Masters of the Air (closed to cgRaven)

The sun had just dipped down below the horizon, soft streaks of purples and oranges beginning to cut their way across the darkening sky as the moon began to rise overhead. Color and shadow were transforming the bustling town from its quaint and quiet daytime façade, making it slip away as the shroud of darkness Yes, it was pulling it into its nighttime embrace and all too soon it would change. It would change into something only those who breathed and moved at night lived to know and understand, that thrumming hum of life that spoke of hidden danger and wild adventure, of escapades that ran as deep as fantasy.

And oh how Eleanora adored it!

Eleanora McAllister walked along the dimly lit and dusty road, her pale eyes scouring the sights of the nightlife as it emerged from their darker corners of town. She longed to be a part of it, so eager to just let go of her boring and mundane life and forget about the dilemmas her family faced with their company as they tried to monopolize the industry they held. As it was, their influence was great, holding sway over many and those beyond the borders. They had ties, connections, allies... Enemies. Ah yes, Lily and William McAllister would never let their dearest daughter forget that bit. For a brief moment, the girl's hand reached down, sliding along a slender thigh overtop her skirts to gently touch where she knew the holster resided, holding the knife that rested there. Of course, she didn't really know how to use the thing, but it made her parents feel better knowing she carried it. But such was her life. With great fortune and success came a price, so her parents harped and drilled. And that meant having to watch your back.

At that, Eleanora glanced over her shoulder and scowled, her pale eyes catching a glimpse of the brutish man about five steps behind and ever gaining on her trail. Oh, it just wouldn't do having that man so close behind, practically breathing down her neck as she tried to enjoy her evening out on the town.

"Ahem," came a gruff grumble from behind. Clearly the man wanted to stay close.

Immediately, Eleanora rolled her eyes, one tiny hand moving to tug on a stray dark curl while another went to fondle the trinket she wore about her slender neck. She heaved a sigh, her thoughts growing dark at the notion that she'd have to spend the entirety of her evening with the oaf not far behind. She was annoyed at having to be escorted. After all, she wasn't a child any longer, but a woman! She was two and twenty! Just then, she heard the faint sound of music, drums thumping the pulse of the night, of life. It was the heavenly sound of street performers and they couldn't have come at a better time. Soon a crowd would gather, large and anxious, full of excitement to see the goings on.

A coy smile played on Eleanora's lips as the music grew louder, her steps growing quicker as she raced toward the sounds, toward the crowd. She glanced over her shoulder, her blue eyes spotting her escort. They sparkled as she noticed him losing distance, getting lost in the crowd, her small frame making its way through the sea of people and sound, sights and smells. All too soon, she was on the other side, her escort seemingly gone.

Triumph! Victory was hers!

Eleanora smoothed her dark skirts, her eyes scanning her form a bit before she resumed walking. Her ankles were bared for all to see, her corset tightened just right as they pushed and squeezed at her body, lifting her breasts in the most tantalizing way. She knew it angered her parents, her father especially, but that was as she wanted it. Smiling, she pressed onward, the dusty roads getting darker, quieter. Glancing about, she noticed a club up ahead—Le Chat Noir.

Upon arriving at the door, Eleanora sucked in a sharp breath, her one hand patting her thigh for reassurance while the other fondled her locket. She then set her jaw and dared to enter the club. Yes, she was ready for this, ready to let go and forget about all the nonsense her parents spouted, about her escort. Yes, she was ready to experience. She was ready to live.

Commander Karl Wilhelm Műller of the Imperial German Navy Air Service listened intently to Count Zefflin as he laid out the plans for the Harland and Wolff ship yards in Belfast.
“This is not only one of Briton’s leading shipyards but also one of the few yards capable of building an airship capable of competing with our own.”
Count Zefflin raised his cold gray eyes to those of the Commander Műller to see if the Naval Air Officer truly grasped the significant of what he was saying. Karl met that steady gaze and once more felt ill at ease under the Counts intense gaze. The formal stiff white cellulose collar of his dress uniform suddenly felt unbearably tighter. Karl Műller always felt ill at ease when in the presence of nobility. The strict social structure of Imperial Germany, where most mid range and senior officers were Counts, Viscount , and Barons only enforced that his family tree left much to be desired. His Father had come from a very old family but had the misfortune to be born the second son to that illustrious house. To compound that misfortune pater had chosen to marry an Irish Girl that only brought her beauty and a small but substantial dowry to the marriage. That series of parental misfortunes is what led Karl Műller to be in Count Zefflin’s office now, for Műller was seen as not quite a gentleman and he did speak English without a telltale continental accent thanks to his Irish Mother. What both Imperial Germany and Count Zefflin both needed was a man that was not quite a Gentlemen with a practical knowledge of the complexities of airships and the wits to make him an effective spy.
“We have heard rumors of an Olympic class of airships being built there for William McAllister with the financial backing of the American J. P. Morgan. If the rumors are true this class of airships could make Briton Masters of the Air as well as the seas.
*************************

That thunderous meeting with Count Zifflin had been over two months ago. Karl had had some success with penetrating the security of the Harland and Wolff thanks to his Irish connection and the Republicans fanatical hatred of the English. He had been encouraged to hear that the Olympic class of airship was still in the planing stages but very close to completion. Yet time was short, the sheds and launching dock plans for their construction had already been drawn, materials ordered, and from what he had seen of them with his own eyes, Karl Műller knew Germany had nothing to compare with their size and scope.
Műller listened intently to the sticatoe dits and dashes of the Marconi set quickly coping them down. He acknowledged the receipt with his call sign Zed 69. Műller ran his fingers through his ginger hair as he decoded his orders, realizing it was hardly the fashionable close cropped Prussian image so popular in the Fatherland at the moment. Slowly words began to appear……. Eleanora……. McAllister………. Le Chat Noir
As he read further he realized that what Imperial Germany desired of him was to compromise Miss Eleanora McAllister and obtain as much information from her about the new Olympic class of Airships, hardly an assignment for a gentleman, but then after all Commander Karl Wilhelm Műller was not considered to be a gentleman.

There were very few places in the city where the bored children of the upper classes and the lower classes could meet, even the churches were segregated according to class and station. There were few exceptions, Le Chat Noir was one of those few exception. It was a club, not one of the highly segregated pubs, but a club where one danced, and sipped the latest cocktails from New York and London. It was a place where for a few bob the lower middle class could pretend for the evening that they were one of the swells. It was a place where the bored offspring of the cream of society could go slumming, live if just for an evening free of their gilted cages.

Karl Műller was attired in evening dress, of poor quality, as he sipped a Manhattan at the bar, the very image of the lower classes out for a lark. He was looking over the rim of his glass when he saw her enter. Eleanora McAllister photograph did not do her justice. With the practiced eye of an Airship commander his eyes swept over her; the dark skirt that indecently displayed her trim little ankles, boldly bared for all to see. Her corset had been tightened just so, to delightfully push and squeeze her gorgeous young body, lifting her breasts in the most tantalizing way. Her lustrous chestnut hair framed Eleanora’s angelic face. Such rebellion, such beauty, and such stunning blue eyes. This was a woman worth knowing, Műller felt a strange attraction for her beyond his duty to the Fatherland and yet he had his duty.
At that moment the little quartet that provided the dance music for Le Chat Noir struck up the first few notes of the latest dance crazy from the Argentine the Tango. Karl set his glass on the bar and boldly approached Eleanora McAllister, hardly the behavior of a gentleman as she had given no indication that such an approach would be welcome.

“Dance Miss?”

His voice had just a hint of an Irish accent; his dark hazel eyes with dancing flecks of gold boldly met Eleanora’s stunning blue eyes. This was no idle rich boy of the upper crust; this was no gentleman of her class.

The lights were low and the air thick and warm as Eleanora made her way inside the 'Chat'. It wasn't the first time she'd managed to venture into this sordid area of town where eyes lingered and undressed without the use of hands. Nor would it be her last, or so she hoped. The place was teeming with life so colorful it beckoned her like a moth to a flame—so much she never was allowed to see! Surely, her father would scold and reprimand should he learn of such defiance, but she'd yet to be caught or noticed. Not a single escort had yet to find her when she'd made her way to the seedy corner where life hummed and people boldly let their worries fall to the wayside.

Something she hoped would never change. Let them never find her until... later.

As Eleanora stepped inside the club, she felt her muscles tense briefly before she finally let every fiber relax. This happened every time she did something rebellious, something she knew would anger her parents or go against the expected. It was that exhilarating feeling, that sensation of success and accomplishment at having managed to get her way despite the stern set of rules her parents had laid out for her to follow. It honestly could not be helped. And as her mind drifted onto the potential whereabouts of her more than likely lost and confused escort, a smile began to tug at the corners of her lips.

The room was crowded and Eleanora welcomed it, her feet moving—left, right, left—as she began to make her way into the club. A hand fondled the locket about her throat as her dark curls bounced with each graceful step until... A voice. An invitation? Her breath caught in her throat as someone approached—they never approached, a first—his mysterious eyes, so captivating, finding hers. She found herself almost starting, a sweeping heat rising to her cheeks as it raced along her neck and over the swells of her exposed breasts.

"I..." Eleanora began, unsure of what to say, to do, her heart racing as her mind became muddled with thoughts. Finally, she found herself nodding, a hand reaching out for his as her blue eyes took in the sight of him—build, those eyes and that hair. His hair intrigued, making her smile, her blush deepening against the porcelain pale of her skin. "Thank you, sir," she stated softly, her hand in his as the music played, its lush tones drawing her in—or was that his eyes?

The rich sounds resonated throughout the crowded room and as it continued to play, Eleanora felt her muscles trembling. Was that nervousness? Briefly, she bit down on her lip, her mouth going dry as a wave of worry washed over her. Oh, she hoped she danced well... never had a stranger asked her dance before. She hoped she didn't disappoint or worse, make a fool of both herself and him.

"I..."

There was a note of uncertainty in the girl’s voice as Karl held his hand out to young Miss McAllister. Could it be that, her bold and shockingly rebellious attire where props to hide a shy young innocent, Műller question himself? It very well could be for Eleanora cheeks turned the most delightful shade of pink as she slowly nodded and her delicate hand reaching out to him.

As the little quartet struck the next cord, Karl Műller swung Miss Eleanora McAllister into his arms; her supple young body pressed to his. Karl’s right hand firmly pressed to the small of her back and her left hand clamped firmly in his hand as the darkly rich and sensual strains of the Tango hummed with the seductive rhythms of the Argentine. He led the young beauty through the torrid and sensual steps of the dance, their hips pressed to each other. At times as he led Eleanora through the whirling sensually seductive steps of the dance his thigh pressed between her legs. At other times she felt him lead her through a dizzying series of changing foot shifts that would leave even an accomplish partner breathless. Then Eleanora found her body bowed back, his body pressed to hers as the last strains of the Tango faded.

There was a hushed silence as his eyes held hers captive. Eyes that had a piercing gaze as if he could see all the secrets of her young soul. It was if they were the only tow people in the dingy little smoke filled club. Suddenly the spell was broken as there were shouts of Bravo and a thunderous applause.

“A drink Miss? They serve a rather good Daiquiri here. It is all the rage in America sense their war with Spain.”

Karl still held Eleanora in the deep dip that had ended their Tango. Slowly sensually Műller drew his partner to her feet and as he stepped back she tumbled into his arms.

“A smoke perhaps too?”

Thought there was a hint of an Irish accent many of the way he phrased things had a decidedly American flare to them and spoke of far away places. Places very far from the stifling provincial city that was her home. They stood there a moment longer Eleanora supple young body pressed to his. He waited to see if the shy little innocent would step from his arms and flitter away or weather the spoiled little rebel would stay where she was flirting with danger.

Karl Műller decided to tempt fate as he held the gorgeous young beauty in his arms he let a single finger slip between the chaste gold chain of her locket and her warm pale flawless skin. He Sensually slid that single finger along the bare skin of Eleanora’s slender neck. Karl let his hand rest on the boldly bared curve of the girl’s breast, the locket now resting on his finger tip.

“ A gift from a lover.”

He could feel her heart beating beneath his hand seed up at his outrageous question a question no gentleman would have the audacity to ask. He waited anticipating a slap across his face for taking such liberties with a lady.

Breathless, heart pounding, Eleanora found herself suddenly being led across the dance floor of the sordid club. Gone were the eyes and faces of others. The only one she saw was that of the one that held her gaze. Once on the floor, her feet moved in ways she hadn't known they could, her body feeling a warmth as this strange man held her so close, she could swear she felt his heart beating in time to the pulse of the music. She was hypnotized, bewitched as they danced, her body his to manipulate and control as the music played on, dictating their steps—him leading, her following. It was an erotic dance in all its sensuality as he moved her, not once letting her falter.

As the music faded, the sounds and reality of her surroundings once more coming back into her vision, Eleanora felt her breath hitch slightly. Just who was this man that had found her, that was so bold in his seductive touches? She nodded at the idea of a drink, shook her head at the idea of a smoke and then... his fingers found her locket. Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath, the corset she wore hindering each one as it squished her breasts together, pushing on her body with all its delicious restrictions. She could feel the warmth of his fingers as he traced her skin, leaving a scorching trail in its wake.

"A... a lover, sir?" Eleanor stated more than asked, her words full of confusion and embarrassment as her cheeks began to redden. "I believe the term you search for is suitor." Her mouth had gone dry and she felt a heat washing over her in wave after wave, each one more intense than its predecessor.

Eleanora searched the man's eyes desperately trying to read them as his warm, large hands continued to rest against the now blushing swell of her breast. He was difficult to read, his intentions so unclear. Never before had anyone approached her, most knowing to keep their distance—an almost unspoken rule. But this man didn't seem to play by the rules or perhaps he only played by his own? Either way, his game was entirely different than what she was used to.

"And, sir, I'm respectable," Eleanora stated, forgetting her rebellious manner of dress, the fact that she'd just taken joy in having ridded herself of her escort, the blatant defiance she was exhibiting toward her parents' wishes... Just then, she bit down on her lower lip, her blue eyes still locked onto his. "B-but," she stammered. "Do you like it?" she asked, her words referring to the locket he brushed his fingers against. "It was a gift," she then admitted. "Though... from my father."

As the words spilled from her mouth, Eleanora wondered what sort of spell this man had cast to draw her so willingly into this web of his. Perhaps it was because he was the first to speak to her, to show her any kind of attention. Or maybe it was those eyes, that hair. Dark thoughts began to flutter into her mind as she shifted her gaze slightly, watching his hand rest against her bared flesh, toying with the trinket she bore about her throat.

“A gift from a lover.”

"A... a lover, sir?..........I believe the term you search for is suitor."

Eleanora was clearly taken aback by his bold question. Műller had seen her face flush and then her cheeks redden before she had given not an answer to his question but rather a an explanation. Again Karl Műller had the feeling that the outward signs of her rebellion were more for a particular viewing audience, her parents and particularly her father Sir William McAllister. Yet there was a certain boldness to the girl for she had made no move to have him remove her hand from the naked swell of her exposed breast and her pale eyes searched his stormy hazel eyes looking for something perhaps hoping for something.

Karl Műller was no stranger to the wilds of a young beauty. He had taken several lovers over the years and recognized that look he now saw in Eleanora McAllister’s eyes. He let his eyes soften just a bit and let a pleasant smile bow the corners of his lips giving the young beauty a hint of the warmth that she was seeking and yet letting a hint of the forbidden and mysterious also flash in their golden depths as well.

"And, sir, I'm respectable,…………


Eleanora stunningly expressive pale blues held his boldly for a moment longer before she blinked and demurely lowered them for half a heart beat as she stammered

…….. "B-but,…..do you like it? It was a gift, though... from my father."

The words had come tumbling over her moist ripe lips before she could stop them and she blushed a deliciously dark shade of pink that spread from her pale cheeks down across the swell of her bared breasts.

“Yes it is delicate, sensually seductive, like you…..”

He paused only a moment. He could feel her heart beat quicken and when he continued his lips were just a breath away from hers.

“It suits you.”


Karl’s dark stormy eyes held Eleanora’s a moment longer and when he thought that she might indeed yield, he slowly his lips slip away, the moment for a stolen kiss gone, and his fingers slip from her locket and her heaving breast.

“I do believe I owe you a Daiquiri.”

Műller firmly escorted Eleanora to the bar instead of a table in some secluded corner of the club. Though his manners were good he certainly was no gentlemen. His skin was kissed by the sun and yet he did not have the look of a laborer or a shop boy and his hands were smooth which would belie a life at sea and yet he was apparently well travled.

“Bar tender two Daiquiris .”


Again a hint of time spent in the America’s. Karl was weaving a mysterious persona for the young beauty to become intrigued with. He had danced with her in a most intimate manner to a very sinful dance and yet he had not asked her name, nor had he volunteered his own. With glass in hand and his eyes easily holding hers captive in his gaze he cheerfully called,

“Bottoms up!”

One thing for sure this was a hard drinking man. Before Eleanora could ask a question of him the quartet struck up the first strains of a rumba. Again the sensual strains of Latin Music filled the club.

“Dance?”

Karl bought Eleanora two more drinks and asked her to dance three more times before excusing himself.

“Early day tomorrow Miss and my Captain is a rather demanding man. It has been a pleasure. Perhaps I’ll see you again I am here most evenings.”


And as quickly as Karl Műller had swept into Eleanora McAllister’s life he was gone.

Eleanora was beside herself. This man. This bold and mysterious man who came from the shadows and somehow into her life by merely extending a hand and asking her to dance! She found herself drawn, completely infatuated as his lips barely brushed against hers. For a moment, she'd closed her eyes, felt his heat. But just like the fleeting leaf on a breeze, it was there and then gone. He'd pulled away, leaving nothing but a cold reminder of where he'd once been as her eyes fluttered open and the intensity of the moment began to diminish.

Just then, Eleanor let out a breath, one she hadn't even realized she'd been holding and she soon found herself being escorted to the bar for her daiquiri. Just who was this man? Who would dare drag her along as he was without thought or care? So confident, so sure, so... Her thoughts were drifting as her mind swirled with possibilities and still the night pressed on. It was a whirlwind of the senses, a frenzy of tension laced with allure. But all too soon, he left her there. Gone just as mysteriously as he'd appeared and even still she did not know his name, but oh how she needed to see him again.

Dizzy with delight, Eleanora stumbled out of the 'Chat', her full lips smiling as her thoughts lingered on those dances and the way that man held her close. Never before had another touched her like that before... As she meandered the dusty road, she heard the sound of a throat being cleared, the sound causing her to stop in her tracks. Nervous, she bit down on her lip, a finger moving to twist itself about in her dark curls. As she turned around, she saw the angry face of her escort.

The following morning, Eleanora's head pounded. The normally welcomed rays of sun were harsh on her blue eyes as they poured into her room. She let out a tiny groan, pulling a pillow over her head. Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Eleanora moaned.

The door creaked opened and in walked one of Eleanora's maids.

"Good morning Miss," the girl said brightly, her mousy hair askew from the work she'd already been doing about the home. "Your parents are all in a tizzy, Miss," she went on to say. "Word out is that your father is upset about the stunt you pulled last night."

At that, Eleanora moved to sit up. Her blue eyes looked at her maid quizzically, wondering what else she'd heard. Did she know about the man she'd met? Did she...? "Oh?" she stated.

"Yes," the maid answered. "Sir William says you're only allowed in the gardens today and tomorrow. Your escort said he found you at Le Chat Noir, Miss." The maid paused a moment. "I needn't tell you, Miss. But that is no place for a lady, Miss."

Eleanora scowled. "I will decide what place is for a lady or not. Though why would my escort tell my father such things?" she said, not admitting the truth of the situation though not denying it either.

"Miss, they're only looking out for you, Miss," the maid said.

Eleanora heaved a sigh. "Leave me be," she said waving her hand to dismiss the maid. She wanted nothing more to do with the girl. For now. She was upset and even more at the idea that she now had to figure out how to go to the 'Chat' again—and this time without an escort to bring her into town. It would be difficult, near impossible. No doubt she'd be under constant watch.

But it had to be done. She had to see him again. He beckoned. She needed to feel that heat once again.

“Early day tomorrow Miss and my Captain is a rather demanding man. It has been a pleasure. Perhaps I’ll see you again I am here most evenings.”

Karl Műller slipped from Le Chat Noir and into the night. He paused for a moment drawing a cigarette from a packet of Players . He closed his eyes before he struck a match, the bright flare of it destroying anyone’s night vision that might be hiding in the near by shadows. With a flick of his wrist, to extinguish the match, he slowly opened his own eyes and made his way from the seedy little club down to the harbor and the yards of Harland and Wolff. Just before the ship yard’s gates he took a left turning, a turning that would bring him to the mooring masts of the Aerodrome that serviced the Airship that made a port call in Belfast, before slipping into the shadows once more to wait and see if he had been followed.

*********************************

“What in God’s name did you think you were doing Miss?”

Sir William McAllister thundered, his hands firmly gripping the lapels of his morning suit as a Presbyterian Minister might grasp his surplus as he chastised his flock on a Sunday Morn for their wicked ways, standing aloof and beyond their puny mortal frailties.

“Le Chat Noir Eleanora? It is little more than a brothel where elements of the Lower classes fornicate in public and have the audacity to call it dancing”

Sir William’s faced blanched at the phrase Lower classes and then his puffy face turned a frightening shade of crimson, as the accusation about the character of the dancing at the club dripped with distain, from his now trembling lips. There was no doubt that he would exile Eleanora to her rooms for no less that a fortnight under very close supervision, little more than a prisoner in her own home. A prisoner who must submit to the authoritarian rule of her father or find herself across his lap for a very humiliating spanking as if she were still a wayward child, an indignity she had not been forced to endure sense her sixteenth birthday. His tirade was disturbed by a rather firm but insistent knock at his study’s door.

“WHAT?”

A Major Daily of the Royal Marines to see you Sir William. He says it is quite urgent that he speaks with you.”

“Very well Jarvis you may show the Major in.”

Sir William turned to his daughter,

“You young Lady may retire to your rooms.”

Jarvis ushered Major Daily into Sir William’s study. He was dressed in the no popular Mufti Kaki that had replaced the traditional Scarlet of His Majesty’s Marines and Soldiers, a rather drab look, for a rather drab age Sir William thought.

Sir William, Miss McAllister………

The Major bowed to Eleanora before coming to stiff attention.

May we speak in Private Sir William as the matter is most urgent and most delicate I fear.

Major Daily pointedly ignored Eleanora as if she was nothing more than a delicate figurine, a pretty little decoration.

“Eleanora!”

Sir William gave his wayward daughter a look that not only said she was dismissed but that she was to go to her rooms immediately. As the doors were closing behind her she heard the Major say,

A pretty little thing your daughter.

Again that male superiority, that saw her not as a person, but merely a pretty little decoration whose only purpose was to provide her future husband with and heir, a male heir.

Now to weightier matters Sir William ………

Eleanora was hardly ready to face the day and even less ready to face her father. After the rumors she'd heard from her personal maid, she more than feared having to see the man. He was notorious for his swift and overly harsh punishments and, if she didn't know better, she'd be confined to the house for more than a mere couple of days. Sir William McAllister was highly protective of one of his most prized possessions—his daughter.

With fear in her heart, Eleanora smoothed her deep purple skirts, her corset pulled tight to accentuate her feminine form as it squished and lifted her breasts in just the right way, and walked through the long hallways knowing that sooner or later she'd have to face her father. It didn't long. All too soon, she found herself standing face to face with the man, her heart pounding as a lump formed in her throat making it difficult to swallow.

She listened in silence as the man fumed and spouted, his words full of anger over what she'd done. But Eleanora could feel her defiance rising from within. It was a vicious cycle. The tighter her father tried to make the leash, the harder she pulled and the more she rebelled. Luckily for her, her mother tended to stay out of things and she typically only had to deal with her father's wrath. Though one parent's anger was more than enough and her father had enough for the entire household and then some.

As Sir William scolded, his face red with anger as his voice dripped with contempt for her actions and choice of venues, Eleanora's mind began to drift. She couldn't help but think of the man she'd met and danced with. What had his name been? Blinking, she suddenly realized he hadn't given it to her nor had she requested he tell... how was she to ever find him again if she didn't even know who he was! Would he find her? Oh, but how would she ever see him again if her father wasn't going to let her leave the house?

Such troubles and tribulations and Eleanora knew she needed to find a way. She needed to see that man again at all costs, to see him, to feel the heat of his hands as they'd held her when they'd danced, moving across the floor in such torrid movements she could almost feel her body reacting to the idea of his touch, the closeness. Biting down on her lip, her mind began to wonder just how she might get to see him, her thoughts turning and swirling, desperate to formulate a plan.

Suddenly, Eleanora found herself snapped out of her reverie, her blue eyes shifting toward the door as a guest interrupted the all too intense moment between she and her father as he tried to forever hold her back just as he always did and always would. It was Major Daily, a friend of her father's and no doubt in want of his company. But no matter. She was in need of figuring out a plan to get back to the 'Chat' that very night. Nothing would keep her away from the dive, not even a threat from the likes of her father.

Giving the Major a low curtsy and a smile, Eleanor peered up at the man beneath her long lashes, her eyes hooded as she thought a bit more on what she could do to escape the prison of her home and family. As she slowly stood up, she turned toward her father. "If you'll excuse me, father, I'll leave you to your business." She gave the man a smile and then turned back toward the Major. "Major Daily," she added out of respect for the newly arrived company.

At that, Eleanora headed out and into the hallway, her thoughts swimming as she headed toward the gardens for a short jaunt to clear her head and cool off after the argument she'd had with her father. While making her way toward one of her favorite places on the grounds, she saw her personal maid.

"Hello, Miss," the girl said warmly. "I do hope your father wasn't too hard on you."

Eleanora smiled at her and shook her head. "No more than usual." Her response caused the girl's expression to soften, a look of condolence coming over her. As she watched her, her thoughts began to take a turn. How interesting that she appeared to be of similar age and build and, from afar, quite... passable. Biting down on her lower lip, she reached out and took hold of the girl's arm. "Elena," she said softly. "Come walk with me."

"But, Miss," Elena said, her cheeks going pink. "I'm not supposed to, I..."

"Please, I wish it," Eleanora stated quite clearly not willing to take 'no' for an answer. "Walk with me." Her smiled broadened. "Tell me, Elena. Would you like to try borrowing one of my dresses?" she asked.

Sir William scolded his wayward and head strong young daughter, his face red with anger as his voice dripped with contempt for her actions and choice of venues. The irony of it was that if Eleanora was son instead of a daughter he would have been claming her on the back and cautioning her to be careful where he sewed his wild oats. But the fact was that Eleanora was his daughter and as a woman her value to the family lay in her chaste innocence and what dynastic and business alliances her chaste virginity could be bartered for. Sir William anger nearly became titanic as he saw that far away look in his young daughter’s wide blue eyes and knew that once more she was in a dream world of her own far from the well deserved chastisement he was giving her. Sir William McAllister raised his hand as if to strike Eleanora’s cheek when a soft knock at his study’s door stayed his hand.

Eleanora found she snapped out of her reverie, her blue eyes shifting toward the door as a guest interrupted the all too intense moment between she and her father.

"If you'll excuse me, father, I'll leave you to your business."

Sir William watched as for the moment Eleanora played the dutiful, chaste daughter. A dainty graceful low curtsy and a beguiling smile,

"Major Daily,"

“McAllister”

Major Daily drolly acknowledge as he let his eyes boldly take in every sensual curve of her supple young as if her were evaluating a young filly that he was thinking of purchasing. The Major to particular note of the flare of her hips and the swell of her firm young breast as if he were judging her breeding assets. Then he turned to Sir William.

“Sir William As I said Military intelligence believes that the Imperial German Navy will be endeavoring to steal the plans for you Olympic class of airships from the Harland and Wolff. We fear that Republican elements are in league with the Kaiser’s agents. Every effort must be made to thwart their efforts.”

The Major gazed out the French doors that over looked the south lawns of the estate. He saw the meeting between Eleanora and her maid Elena and could not help but notice the conspiratorial nature of their meeting or how closely the two young women resembled each other from a distance.

“Sir William as to the matter of your daughter. She is a head strong young filly would you not agree? And like all headstrong young fillies she needs to be broken young and learn early to obey and please her Lord and Master.”

There was a dark look in Major Daily as he slapped his riding crop against his impeccably shined military riding boots. He would have his own men follow Miss Eleanora McAllister. Through no fault of her own Eleanora had become a pawn in a very dangerous and dark game being played between shadow elements His Majesty’s Government and that of the German Kaiser’s. A game that would be played out in the shadows. There of course would be no war between the two, which was out of the question as Gorgy and Billy were cousin. Not the battle to be Master of the Skies would be a war of wits and Commerce raiders.