Mistress Melanie sat Hawk and Fisher down in front of the makeup mirrors and
studied them thoughtfully. 'Yes,' she said finally, drawing out the word till it
sounded more like no, 'The scars are going to be a problem, but a good coat of
makeup should cover them. No one'll be able to tell, even at close quarters, but
don't let anyone kiss you.'
'I hadn't planned on it,' said Hawk.
Mistress Melanie sniffed. 'We're going to have to do something about that eye,
of course. A patch is out of the question.' She looked hard at Hawk's single eye
for a moment, then opened a small lacquered box and rummaged around inside it,
finally producing a single glass eye. 'Try this.'
'No,' said Hawk flatly. 'Forget it. I hate the damned things.'
'I can assure you, you'll find it a perfect match,' said Mistress Melanie
frostily.
'I said no!'
'Be reasonable, Hawk,' said Fisher. 'You can't wear your patch. Any member of
the Quality who suffered that kind of injury would have it put right at once
with a shape-change spell. And since you can't do that, you'll have to use the
glass eye. It won't be for long.'
Hawk growled something indistinct, and accepted the glass eye with bad grace. He
scowled at it for a moment, then took off his patch, put it to one side, and
gingerly eased the glass eye into the empty socket. He blinked experimentally a
few times, and then glared into the mirror. 'Hate wearing a glass eye,' he
growled. 'Makes my face ache.'
Fisher looked over his shoulder into the mirror. 'She's right, Hawk; they're a
perfect match. No one will be able to tell it isn't real.'
Hawk sniffed loudly, unimpressed. Mistress Melanie produced a set of clothes for
each of them, and thrust them unceremoniously into Hawk and Fisher's arms. 'Try
these for size. They're based on the statistics in your official records, but
I've had to make some allowances. From the look of you, you've both put on some
weight since then. Come on, get a move on; I've got to know if I have to make
more alterations, and we've still got your makeup to do.'
Hawk looked at her and raised an eyebrow meaningfully. Mistress Melanie's mouth
twitched. 'I'll wait outside while you change. Call me if you have any
problems.'
She left, closing the door firmly behind her. Hawk took his first good look at
his new clothes, and his heart sank. The latest male fashion for the Quality
still consisted of tightly cut trousers, a padded jerkin with a chin-high
collar, and knee-length leather boots. Plus some rather utilitarian long
underwear. The jerkin and trousers were both navy blue with gold thread trim.
The military look was in this Season. He looked across at Fisher, and smiled as
he saw she was even less enchanted with her new clothes. There was a long
flowing gown of lilac blue with frothy lace trim, a great deal of frilly
underwear, a formidable-looking corset, and a pair of fashionable shoes that
looked hideously uncomfortable. Fisher picked up the corset with a thumb and
forefinger and held it out at arm's length, studying it dubiously.
'Look on the bright side,' said Hawk. 'At least there isn't a bustle.'
'Do we really have to do this, Hawk?' said Fisher.
'Well, we could fight our way out of here, and make a run for it.'
'Don't tempt me.' Fisher sighed heavily, and began stripping off her furs. 'The
things I do in the line of duty…'
It took them the best part of half an hour to climb into their new clothes.
There were endless buttons and hooks and eyes, and they all had to be done up in
just the right order. Hawk could only just get into the trousers. Even with
Mistress Melanie's allowances for his somewhat expanded waistline, it was a very
tight fit. Fisher had even more trouble with the corset. Hawk ended up having to
put a knee in the middle of her back while he pulled the cords tight. Fisher's
language became increasingly awful, until finally she was forced to give up from
lack of breath. Finally, the ordeal was over, and they stood together before a
full-length mirror, judging the effect.
Despite everything, Hawk had to admit they looked the part. Before them in the
mirror stood a gentleman and young lady of the Quality, dressed impeccably in
the latest finery. Hawk looked splendid and striking, though the scars on his
face still gave him a sinister air, and Fisher looked absolutely stunning. The
corset had given her a magnificent hourglass figure, and the long gown made her
look even taller. She winked at Hawk coquettishly over her paper fan, and they
both laughed.
'Been a long time since we looked this good,' said Hawk finally.
'A long time,' said Fisher.
Mistress Melanie knocked loudly, and swept in without waiting for an answer. She
looked them both up and down, and nodded curtly. 'You'll do. Now let's see what
we can achieve with a little makeup.'
Another half hour passed before the wardrobe mistress allowed Hawk and Fisher to
look into a mirror again, and what they saw kept them silent for a long moment.
Their skin was now fashionably pale instead of their usual tan. Fisher's face
had been expertly made up with rouge and eye shadow, taking the edge off the
harsh lines, and softening the aggressive chin. Her long blond hair had been
piled up on top of her head in a complicated design. Hawk's face had changed
completely; with the patch gone and the scars hidden under makeup he looked ten
years younger, and somehow more at peace with himself and the world. Fisher
looked at him and smiled tenderly.
'I often wondered what you looked like, before the scars.'
'Well?' said Hawk awkwardly. 'What do you think?'
'I think you look very handsome, my love. But then, I always did.'
Hawk leant forward to kiss her, and Mistress Melanie yelled at him. 'No touching
till the makeup's set! I don't want to have to fix her face all over again!'
Hawk and Fisher shared a wry smile. There was a loud knocking at the door.
'Are you two decent?' called Commander Dubois from outside.
'Near as we ever get,' said Hawk loudly, and nodded for Mistress Melanie to let
the Commander in. Hawk and Fisher struck carefully aristocratic poses and stared
haughtily at Dubois as he came in. He walked slowly over to them, and looked
from one to the other and back again.
'I'm… impressed,' he said finally. 'You might just bring this off after all. I
wish we had time to give you a full briefing on how to behave, all the little
tricks of etiquette and the like, but we're way behind schedule as it is.'
'Don't worry,' said Hawk. 'We know which fork to use, and which way to pass the
port. We've been around.'
'Right,' said Fisher. 'You'd be surprised.'
'Yeah, well,' said Dubois. 'We've worked out a rough background for you. You're
going to be remote country cousins of the MacNeils; a brother and sister from
