Chapter 13

The Renaissance ball was awful. When thinking about the era, Lisa had forgotten one thing: the dresses the women wore. she remembered unhappily just as Jennie stepped out of her bedroom and into the shared living room.

She wore a full-length Elizabethan gown of burgundy brocade and white lace. It had a velvet bodice with the traditional pointed stomacher. Her long skirts and sleeve caps were pleated. She looked lovely. Truly. But the bodice was what really made the gown; it forced her breasts together and up so that they appeared ready to tumble out at any moment. Lisa's mouth began to water the moment she appeared. Then it struck her that she wouldn't be the only one looking at those luscious round orbs on such display. Jennie was going to wear this damn thing in public. she didn't like that thought at all.

Lisa had opened her mouth to tell her so when she froze and blinked at her. "What the hell are you wearing?" she asked.

She stiffened in surprise. Glancing down at the dark blue costume she wore, she said, "This is traditional sixteenth-century wear," she said. "Did you not order it?"

"Yes, of course. But I just told them the sizes and didn't specify" Jennie's voice trailed off, and she frowned at her.

"You don't like it?"

"Like it? Well, it's just you look kind of er froufrou," she said at last. "I mean the black leotards show off your legs nicely, but ?"

"They are called trunk hose," Lisa informed her. She was still trying to figure out what froufrou meant. It didn't sound complimentary, the way she said it. Unhappily, she did not keep up with modern euphemisms. She really should get out more. "I thought you edited historical romance, too," she said, perhaps a touch peevishly.

"Mostly medieval," she explained. "Renaissance hasn't been that popular." Her lips pursed, then twisted somewhat to the side. "So, what is that er"she waved in the general direction of her groin"that duck thing?"

Lisa sighed. "It is a codpiece."

"Oh." She nodded slowly, considering the rather exaggerated item.

Lisa peered down and considered it as well. It was huge, a puffed and slashed bag ornamented with several jeweled pins. It was also a tad misshapen from storage and did vaguely resemble a duck. This was obviously an early Renaissance costume. The codpiece had fallen out of favor during Queen Elizabeth's reign.

"I have read about those, but I thought they were supposed to be er rounder or something. You're going to hurt yourself. Someone will walk past you, bang into it and"

"Hey! You two look great!" Taehyung came out of his room wearing a red and burgundy outfit.

Lisa smiled at the younger man, feeling the tension seep out of her. She hadn't cared for having Jennie pick on her costume, and even worse was having her attention focused on her codpiece.

"So" Taehyung glanced from one of them to the other "are we ready to go?"

Jennie was positive her breasts were going to pop out of her gown. She was doing her best not to breathe, in order to prevent it from happening, but every time she had to curtsy she also said a little prayer that they stay in place. Fortunately, they did but each time she straightened it was to find Lisa glaring at every man within looking distance. Jennie found it rather amusing. What she didn't find amusing was the way women were staring at Lisa's codpiece. The damned thing sparkled and glittered, to jeweled pins catching every passing light. Jennie's own eyes had been drawn repeatedly as well. It was damned embarrassing how distracting the thing was. Not that Lisa seemed to notice. If she was aware of the way two thousand women in the room were gawking at her groin, she pretended not to be and walked with pride. She didn't know where she got the courage. Had she walked in wearing sparkling cones on her breasts, she would have been cringing and trying to hide them.

"Wow, what a bash, huh?" Taehyung commented.

Jennie peered around at the entertainment. There were musicians, jesters, dancers and minstrels. It really did resemble how she imagined a ball of old would appear. Her hand tightened on Lisa's arm, and she leaned up to her ear to whisper, "Is this how it really was?"

She hesitated. "Somewhat. Of course, the lighting would have been dimmer. We had only candlelight then, no electricity. The floor would have been covered with rushes. Dogs and rats would have been scavenging for spare bits of food. The smell would have been far less pleasant and"

"That's okay," Jennie interrupted. "I like our ball better."

"Hmm." she nodded.

They found a table and were barely seated when Wendy and several other writers joined them. The conversation was at first dominated by amazement at Sana's accomplishment. The jesters were amusing, the minstrels played ancient instruments. The dinner, when it was served, was delicious if not quite true Renaissance fare.

Once the plates were cleared away, the dancing began. Lisa murmured that she would be back in a moment, and Jennie, presuming she had to go to the women's room, nodded absently, her attention on the dancers swirling around the room. She turned to say something to Wendy, who had taken the seat on Lisa's other side, but paused when she saw Lisa was still there. "I thought you were"

Her voice trailed away as she noted that her hands were under the table. she appeared to be doing something. "What ?" she began in amazement.

"I am caught on something," she said shortly.

Jennie blinked, confusion filling her mind. "What do you mean, you're caught on something?" She was imagining well, it was best she didn't think too long on what she was imagining. She soon learned it was worse than that.

"The tablecloth," she said, ducking slightly to the side in an attempt to see the problem. "One of the pins."

It was all she had to say; Jennie got the picture at once. One of the jeweled pins on her codpiece had somehow gotten caught on the tablecloth. Much to her horror, a burst of laughter slipped from her lips.

Lisa wasn't amused. "This isn't funny," she told her grimly. "I have to relieve myself rather urgently. And I can't get up."

"So you people have to go to the bathroom, too?" Jennie asked with interest.

Lisa glared at her as if she'd lost her mind. "Where do you get your thoughts?"

"Well," she explained in self-defense, "Bram in her books, never had Dracula relieve herself. I just never thought"

"I doubt if she had Sara relieve herself, either," Lisa growled. She jerked at the tablecloth, making it and everything on it slide an inch or so toward her.

The conversation around the table stopped. Jennie glanced up to see that everyone was staring at Lisa with varying levels of horrified fascination. Knowing that Lisa would never ask for help, Jennie decided to save her from her pride.

"One of the pins on her codpiece has attached itself to the tablecloth. Maybe someone could crawl under the table and set her loose," she suggested.

Taehyung laughed and paused. "You're kidding, right?"

When she shook her head, he dropped abruptly back into his seat. "Sorry. Codpiece removal is not my department."

"Taehyung!" Jennie said grimly.

"Jennie," he responded dryly. "She's your writer. You crawl under the table and undo her."

"I thought you liked her," she said accusingly.

"Not that much," Taehyung shot back. Then he glanced apologetically to Lisa. "Sorry, Lisa."

"I quite understand. I'll manage." She responded with dignity, but she was blushing fiercely, Jennie noted with interest. She hadn't known that vampires could blush.

She jerked the tablecloth again in her efforts, and Jennie frowned. She was going to upset the table or wreck the costume she'd rented. Neither option was a good one. She had no desire to find the remnants of the dinner on her rented costume; she didn't want to have to pay to clean it. Nor did she want to replace the ridiculous codpiece Lisa wore because she’d ruined it. Swallowing the last of her wine, she set her glass down and turned to Lisa.

"Okay. Get your hands out of the way and let me have a look."

Lisa hesitated, then brought her hands out and onto the table. Jennie promptly bent down to try to see what was going on. She was at the wrong angle. "Can't you back any further out?" she asked.

"Not without taking the tablecloth with me," she snapped.

She straightened and peered around selfconsciously, not surprised to see the tableful of writers all watching avidly. Her gaze found Wendy's on the opposite side of Lisa. "I can't see anything from this angle. I'm going to have to get under the table."

Wendy's eyes rounded; then she got to her feet. "Come on, girls. There's no need for everyone to know what's going on. We can act as a barricade."

The other authors all promptly got to their feet and moved around the table. Jennie watched with relief as they formed a semicircle around her seat and Lisa's, their wide skirts making a nice curtain. Taehyung was the only one left seated. He watched the operation with wide eyes, apparently unsure whether he should be horrified or laugh.

"Go ahead," Wendy said once everyone was in place. The other writers nodded.

Jennie felt ridiculously like a soldier being sent on a solo secret mission. Wishing she'd had more wine, she took a deep breath then slid off her seat and under the table. It was terribly dark. And hot. She knelt to the side of Lisa's hosed legs, her head twisted, attempting to see the pin and what it was caught on, but she wasn't quite at the right angle and wasn't close enough.

Muttering under her breath, Jennie eased closer, around her leg until she knelt between her knees; then she reached tentatively for the bunched-up tablecloth. She was absolutely not going to touch her codpiece, at least not if she could help it. She lifted the cloth a bit, but it really was attached.

"Do you need a candle or something under there?" Wendy asked helpfully. Her head suddenly appeared under the table, then it disappeared and Jennie heard her ask, "Does anyone have one of those pen light things in their purse? I usually carry one, but"

The rest of what she said was lost to Jennie as the other woman straightened.

"You sure get yourself into some interesting situations, Jenjen my girl," Jennie muttered, trying to unbunch the cloth so that she could find where it was attached to Lisa. It was her job to be sure that things ran smoothly for her writers at these things, and to help them out of sticky situations. But it was her considered opinion that this situation was beyond the call of an editor's duties. If it hadn't been Lisa in this bind, she wouldn't even have thought of fixing it herself. Which was an interesting point, one she would contemplate later.

Lisa wished the ground would open up and devour her. It could even take every one of the writers surrounding her, and Jennie too if it liked, so long as it ended this misery, the most embarrassing moment of her life. It wasn't bad enough that her codpiece was attached to a tablecloth, but now Jennie was kneeling between her legs trying to untangle her, and that was giving rise to thoughts that had nothing to do with getting free so she could visit the women's room. She was imagining what it would be like if, instead of untangling the tablecloth, she would

How had she ended up in this position? She was a woman who liked order and routine. She did not attend conferences, or Renaissance balls. How had her life got so out of control? Something nudged against her codpiece, and she jerked upright in her seat, drawing the attention of the women around her.

"Sorry." Jennie's voice came muffled from under the table. It sounded like she was speaking through gritted teeth. Lisa closed her eyes in humiliation and wished herself staked through the heart.

"Did she stick you with the pin?" Beth, one of the writers, asked in concern.

Lisa grunted in answer, but it came out more like a whimper. Taking that for a yes, Beth patted her shoulder sympathetically.

"Here you are!"

Lisa turned her head to see Sana making her way to her through the gathering of authors, Wendy pressed herself against the table next to her leg, blocking the view of Jennie underneath. Sana appeared a little curious as to why the women were all clustered there, but she didn't ask. Instead, she smiled at Lisa.

"Jisoo told me you were feeling better, but I wanted to see for myself."

Lisa stared at her, knowing her eyes had gone as round as pumpkins. Normally, she would have stood when someone approached; but that was impossible. That wasn't the reason her eyes had gone round, though. The fact was, unaware of Sana's presence, Jennie had just grabbed her codpiece and shifted it.

"Sorry." Jennie's voice came from under the table again. "I'm having trouble seeing this pin."

Lady Sana's smile froze. Her eyes shot down to where Wendy's skirts hid the table, then traveled up to the writer's alarmed face, then slid to Lisa's mortified expression. Before she could say a word, Jennie's voice sounded again. It was irritated and short. "Dammit, Lisa! The moment I get you unhooked, I insist you take these damn pins out. They're a bloody nuisance."

"Lisa's codpiece is stuck to the tablecloth," Wendy blurted as Lady Sana opened her mouth. "Jennie's trying to free her."

"Her codpiece, she means," Beth put in helpfully. "Jennie is trying to free her codpiece from the tablecloth. Not her from her codpiece."

"I see," Lady Sana murmured, looking not at all sure how to handle the situation. Her dismay lasted only a moment, however; then she gestured for Wendy to move aside, lifted the tablecloth out of the way, and knelt to peer under the table. "Can you see in there, Jennie? Or shall I have someone bring a light?"

Lisa felt Jennie's hand tighten on her in alarm, and she closed her eyes with a moan.

"Lady Sana?" Jennie's voice sounded incredibly small.

"Yes, it's me. Do you need some light under there?"

The muffled curse that came from under the table was almost drowned out by a sudden guffaw from above. Lisa opened her eyes to see Taehyung covering his mouth. The man was losing it. Lisa supposed she couldn't blame him. Were she not at the center of this debacle, she might find it horribly amusing as well. As it was, she just found it horrible.

Lisa couldn't hear Jennie's muttered answer to Sana, but it must have been in the affirmative, for the woman straightened, peered around, then summoned one of her workers to find a flashlight. The woman was off like a shot; then Sana turned to survey Lisa's pained expression. She patted her shoulder soothingly. "Never mind. This sort of thing has happened to all of us at one time or another." Her mouth quirked. "Well, not precisely this sort of thing, but you know what I mean."

Lisa groaned and closed her eyes again. Then a bluff voice said, "Well, what's going on here? Why are all my writers just standing about?"

Jennie recognized Jimin's voice and could have wept. Instead, she leaned her head weakly against Lisa's knee and wondered if the situation could possibly get any worse. First Lady Sana was witness to this humiliating event, and now the president of her company had arrived. Oh, she was really impressing her superiors with this conference! It had all been much easier when Edwin had been in charge and she had only been an assistant.

"What?" Jimin's horrified roar was probably heard from one end of the reception hall to the other, Jennie thought and judging by the way the general talking and laughter suddenly quieted, she knew she was right. Dear God, soon everyone was going to know she was under here.

Jennie heard Lady Sana's voice, sharp and firm, and she smiled to herself. Sana could be as kind as anyone, but she wasn't a woman to take guff and she wasn't afraid of anyone, as far as Jennie knew. She had probably just put Jimin in his place for drawing attention to what they had all been trying to hide, and Jennie could have hugged the woman.

"There you are!" she heard Lady Sana exclaim. "Thank you."

The tablecloth lifted, and the woman appeared. Much to Jennie's amazement, rather than hand over the flashlight, Sana knelt and slid under the table next to her. "It's hot under here, isn't it?" she commented conversationally, as if she did this sort of thing every day. Lady Sana situated herself, turned on the light, shined it where the tablecloth and codpiece were tangled, then nodded solemnly at Jennie. "Get to it, girl. The sooner you get it untangled, the sooner we can get out of here."

It was easier said than done. Lisa was well and truly caught. At least three of the half-dozen pins on her codpiece were stuck at various places in the tablecloth. One pin had probably just snagged at first, then Lisa's tugging had entrapped the others. It took a bit of work to free her.

Lady Sana remained patient throughout, keeping the light steady, holding the cloth out of the way when Jennie needed an extra hand, giving advice and cracking the occasional joke to relieve the stress of the moment. However, even with her help it seemed an excruciatingly long ordeal. And embarrassing, too. As much as she wanted to avoid touching Lisa's codpiece, it was impossible and more often than not she was holding it in her hand. She was terribly aware of the flesh beneath as she twisted the material this way or that, trying to unhook all the pins without getting others caught. She didn't even want to guess at how Lisa felt. It had to be some horrible torture.

If Jennie didn't soon stop, Lisa was positive she was going to shame herself right there at the table for all to see. She wasn't touching her in any sexual way, but the very fact she was between her knees her reacting like a teenage boy. She had lived a long, long time, but Lisa had never found herself in quite this situation before. And she hoped to God she never did again.

"There's another one free."

Jennie's voice came from beneath the table, and everyone standing around made noises Lisa supposed were congratulatory and encouraging. She tried not to wiggle in her seat as her grip on her codpiece again shifted. By looking down, she could actually see her fingers wrapped around her codpiece where they poked out from under the cloth. She glanced up at Wendy and saw her wide-eyed gaze fixed on her lap. She managed a lame smile.

"Oh, dear."

That exclamation from one of the other writers drew both her and Wendy's attention. It was Beth, and she looked absolutely horrified. Lisa felt her heart sink. She had thought that the arrival of the president of Jennie's company was the worst thing that could happen, but the writer's expression suggested otherwise.

"What is it?" she asked, deciding it was best to find out.

"You know those documentary people? The ones who have been filming everything?" she asked.

"No." Lisa hadn't heard of any documentaries being filmed.

"They're always shooting documentaries at the R.T. conference," Wendy put in. "They love filming all the women and the finery and such."

"Yes. And don't look now, but they're coming this way. And so is that photographer from the local paper."

"Oh, dear," Wendy murmured. "He's probably looking for Lady Sana. He's been trailing her all night."

"Damn," Lisa breathed. It had all definitely just got worse.

"Last one," Jennie told Lady Sana with a relief that was echoed by the founder of Romantic Times.

"Good," the woman said.

Jennie couldn't blame her; they were both bent, heads tilted to the side and backs pressed against the bottom of the table. Jennie had to really respect the woman for coming under here with her. There had been no need, but Lady Sana had that kind of if-there's-something-to-do, let's-get-it-done personality. Energy and enthusiasm seemed to shimmer off her.

Sighing, Jennie forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. One last pin to free and they would be out of there. Then she was going to insist Lisa head straight to the women's room and remove the jeweled pins. She couldn't imagine she had put them on her damned codpiece in the first place, and was grateful she hadn't danced with her before this had happened she might have found her dress caught. Wouldn't that have been fun, to untangle right there in the middle of the dance floor for everyone to see? As it was, enough people knew she was under a table working on Lisa's codpiece; she didn't need every last attendee of the conference seeing her author's predicament.

"Got it! You're free," Jennie called out in relief as the last pin came loose. She started to pull away, only to find her sleeve pulling up short. Somehow, while she had been untangling the tablecloth from the last pin, her sleeve had gotten caught on another. She was now attached to Lisa, wrist to codpiece.

"Damn," she said.

"What is it?" Lady Sana asked, frowning. Something of an uproar started on the other side of the tablecloth. Everyone seemed to be talking at once.

"I'm caught on one of the pins of her" Jennie gasped, rushing forward on her knees to keep her sleeve from ripping as Lisa suddenly scooted backward. The squeal of her chair legs on the floor drowned out her cry of alarm, and she was forced to hurry out from under the table as she started to rise. Jennie blinked against a sudden flash, heard Lisa cursing, but was briefly blinded. It had been dark under the table.

"Watch out, Ms. Manoban," Lady Sana warned, crawling out from under the table. "She's got her sleeve caught on your"

Lady Sana went silent upon seeing the newest additions to their audience. Jennie became aware of them, too, her eyes adjusting and slowly noting the film camera pointed in her direction. There was a photographer, too, with a very professional-looking camera. The flash had been her taking a picture, she realized.

Lisa, doing her best to ignore her hand hanging in front of her groin, said in a pained, polite tone; "Call me Lisa, please, Lady Sana."

"My, my, my," the man with the professional-looking camera said. "You didn't mention this event to me, Lady Sana."

"Who ?" Jennie began, just knowing she didn't want to hear the answer.

"The local paper," Sana said grimly. She got to her feet. "And now that this emergency is over, I guess I'd better take care of the next."

Wendy and the other writers helped the woman brush down her skirts; then Sana took the reporter's arm, turned her away and started to walk her toward her own table.

"I'll lay money she has that man eating out of her hand in ten minutes," Wendy said with admiration. Turning to Lisa and Jennie, she smiled encouragingly. "That picture won't make the papers. I guarantee it."