Chapter 18 #3
The cloaked one felt this last name to be both the most fitting and a taunt of sorts.
Walking through the half door at the supposed front of the establishment, the cloaked figure’s senses were assaulted by the din of mostly drunk sailors and their paid or unpaid companions for the evening.
The smell of the place had already wafted onto the cobblestone streets, but was much more intense inside, with an added stench of unwashed flesh and thick smoke.
This place was not intended for bawdy activities, with no rooms for it, but served merely as a place for sailors to either start or end the evenings without venturing too far from their posts on the docks.
Its location and relative unpopularity among the more boisterous crowds also made it a popular place for anonymous, if not discreet, discussions, no patrons really caring about the business of others.
It was little more than a shack with a long rough-hewn bar on one side of the room and only a few sets of tables and chairs for larger groups.
Tonight, the crowd was lighter than usual, the first batch of ships having arrived earlier in the week, and the younger sailors preferring the more cosmopolitan scene of London proper.
This left only a few people strewn throughout the tables, and some at the bar, leaving plenty of room for the hooded newcomer to sidle up to the bar without incident, taking a seat on a high stool.
The lone barkeep lazily made his way to the figure, not particularly interested or bothered by their presence, other than the fact that he thought it was unlikely the person would order anything.
When he came face to face with the would-be patron, he was surprised to see such a winsome visage beneath the hood of the cloak.
His gruff exterior softened, but remained suspicious, as he asked, “Would you like anything, miss, or is it my lady?”
A snort came from the cowl of the hood. “Nothing please for now. I will order in a moment, sir.”
A few folks further down the bar looked up at the refined speech, narrowing their eyes in attempt to focus their blurred vision, unable to determine the exact source. They quickly gave up their quest of discovery and went back to drinking, but not without the bartender taking notice.
“You know, people here care not a whit for why you are here or who you are. It is more the threat of something unknown that can cause trouble,” the bartender said quietly before moving along, leaving the lady to contemplate.
Clearly, he had been speaking of her hooded presence, and wishing to not garner any more attention, or worse, curiosity, Lady Barbara relented and pushed back her hood.
Her dark hair was sedately tied back in a knot at her nape, her pale skin glowing in the soft light of the bar, giving her usually appealing face a more severe look.
No one seemed to bat an eye in her direction, as all those looking for company had already found it, while all the others were there for the drink.
Lady Barbara waited for what seemed to be an interminable amount of time, hearing the tick of an imaginary clock in her head as she sat alone at the bar.
She did not hear the approach, but she did recognize the voice of the man next to her. “Lady Barbara, what is it that you want?”
Barbara whirled in her seat to see Charles Kendall, a scowl on his face. Barbara softened her expression and motioned to the chair next to her. “Please sit, my dear. We have much to discuss.”
A few moments passed before Charles decided to sit. “So, what is it that we have to discuss with such urgency? I had to end my dinner with my cousin early.”
“I have to say, I had thought you would welcome my company a bit more than that,” Barbara prodded. “When I first met you, it was all smiles and sweet nothings; now you are a veritable grouch.”
“You seem to conveniently forget that when we first met, your attention was set on Percy. After his arrest, I foolishly believed your change of attentions to be based on a true connection,” Charles growled.
“Now it is clear to me that you just found another opportunity. And I feel that your ambition outreaches reason.”
“It is for both of us, my dear,” Lady Barbara countered.
“Do not ‘my dear’ me. What do you want?”
“I have something that could prove useful, and I thought to pass it along,” Barbara said nonchalantly, as she removed a pouch from her cloak, a thunk sounding as she placed it on the bar.
Charles was quick to grab the proffered satchel, opening it only enough to peer inside. He raised an eyebrow. “How did you get this? And what exactly am I supposed to do with it?”
Lady Barbara considered her answer for a moment and decided on flattery. “Charles, you are smart, I am sure you will put the trinket to good use. As for how I came into possession of it, Percy was useful in his way, even though he ultimately failed in his endeavor.”
Charles snorted, “Do not bother with flattery, I know you have picked me out only to serve your purpose, and your brother preyed on my shallow pockets and my proclivity to cards to ensure that I went along with your plan. And I must say, the man has an uncanny ability with cards, one that cannot be attributed solely to good luck, as he claims.”
Lady Barbara sighed, softening her demeanor, as she placed her hand on Charles. “My dear, my plan ensures we both get what we want, money for you, and…”
But before Barbara could finish, Charles spat out, “There is no need to explain it to me as if I were a child!”
“Very well, Charles,” Barbara replied smoothly, unaffected by his outburst. “Let me know when you have a plan.”
The chair scraped the floor loudly as Charles stood up, and executed a crisp bow. “Good evening, madam. I will be in touch.”
Sometime later, Lady Barbara exited the dockside hole-in-the-wall, hoping for a quick trip back home by foot. She readjusted the hood of her cloak for more anonymity and set off with wary confidence.
A thick fog had settled on London, making for a more anonymous, but uncomfortable, walk.
Barbara’s footsteps echoed unnaturally in the night, each step bringing with it random sounds from the fog that startled her, only to prove an errant cat or rat wandering the streets in search of the day’s leftover scraps or a warm place to sleep.
Soon, though, a more constant cadence reached her ears, one she quickly identified as footsteps.
A quick look around gave her no peace of mind, as the fog masked the identity of their source as well as the direction of her company on the long quiet streets.
Frozen for a moment, Lady Barbara heard the steps grow louder until a dark figure coalesced in the night.
With no time to run, Barbara hoped the man was just out for a stroll in the night and cared not a whit of her presence.
Unfortunately, the dark figure, cloaked by midnight cloth, seemed on a collision course with her and was closing in at an alarming rate.
Suddenly too afraid to move at all, Lady Barbara awaited her fate with eyes wide in terror.
Her would-be assailant stopped just short of Barbara, leaving little space between them.
She craned her neck to see who lay within the cloak.
A gasp was the only thing that escaped Lady Barbara’s mouth before the cloaked figure picked her up and smothered her screams with their gloved hand. Lady Barbara struggled against her captor to no avail and was dragged into the fog, the sound of her muffled screams lost to the mist.
Across town, the Norwich townhouse had settled into relative quiet as the clock on the mantel in the front parlor chimed the eleventh hour.
After dessert at Charles’s home had turned awkward, Charlotte had claimed a headache.
Christopher had made his quick apologies and suggested that they retire for the evening.
Alaina wondered if her mother’s headache was feigned or due to the true discomfort of the moment.
The exchange between Charles and his manservant butler, Felton, had been unsettling at best, the identity of the lady in question still unknown.
Even the carriage ride had been quiet, each occupant mulling over the evening.
Back in the townhome, Alaina and Charlotte seemed to relax, playing easy hostesses to Christopher.
Edward and Evelina joined them in the front parlor for tea and biscuits.
The men added a bit of brandy to their cups and soon the tension of dinner was forgotten.
Laughter echoed in the parlor, filling the space with warmth and life, the happy couple exchanging a heated glance now and again as discussions steered toward wedding planning and life after the blessed day.
Charlotte and Evelina took it upon themselves to set a schedule for the wedding planning; Christopher and Alaina just enjoyed the moment.
With such excitement, Evelina and Charlotte eventually excused themselves for bed, leaving Edward as chaperone.
However, the brandy which had at first been enough for boisterous laughter, now led to a more mellow tenor, causing Edward’s eyes to close in rest. Edward was positioned in front of the fire, which still burned high, although signs of waning could be perceived, the crackles of the logs becoming lazier.
Christopher and Alaina moved to a settee closer to the window, far enough away that a chill from the glass window could be felt, but with the fire at their backs, it was still cozy.
A small table had been moved in front of them where a small chess set was currently in use.
Christopher and Alaina tried to remain focused on the game, but it was clear their nearness to one another was overtaking their attention.
“You know, my dear, it is your move, has been for quite some time,” Christopher teased.