Chapter 20 #2
“He hasn’t sent anyone after us yet,” Jonathan said as they unpacked the plates and lenses in the kitchen. “I won’t fool myself into thinking he isn’t coming for us as soon as possible.”
“What do we do?” Charlie asked, twice as anxious as he would have been because he suddenly felt as if he was in danger in the one place he’d once felt safe.
Jonathan rubbed a hand across his face, then pushed his fingers through his hair as he glanced around the kitchen.
“We have to develop the plates immediately,” he said, gathering up the boxes from the table once he’d made his decision.
“We might only have hours before someone comes after us. We need to make the best use of them that we can.”
That was how the two of them ended up in the cellar darkroom before bathing, before eating, and before sleeping.
They worked tirelessly, putting each plate through the development process as quickly as they dared.
There were dozens of photographs to develop, which stretched all of the shop’s resources, but they didn’t have a choice.
In between the stages of the development process, Charlie and Jonathan each took turns bathing and napping.
Charlie could hardly sleep, though. He could feel time running out.
Jonathan knew it, too. In his time away from the darkroom, he sorted through all of his possessions, making piles of things he needed to take away with him and things he merely wanted to take.
The whole thing had a dreadful air of finality to it.
It was late in the afternoon by the time the last photograph had been transferred to albumen paper and set in the sunshine. Charlie worried the paper wasn’t dry enough for the photographs to remain fixed, but at least they’d come out clearly enough.
They’d captured almost every man who had been at Fairford House at one point or another. The only men who had managed to avoid the camera completely were Hammond and Dalhurst, which did not surprise Charlie at all.
“We can pack those between sheets of linen,” Jonathan told Charlie as he brought the finished photographs back into the kitchen. “They should be safe in the time it takes us to reach The Zagreus Den.”
“That’s where we’re going?” Charlie asked, thrilled and anxious together.
Jonathan nodded. “I think it’s our only choice, though I have a hell of a lot of questions for Brutus and Titus.”
Charlie nodded in response. He had questions for the two men, too.
They wasted no time once everything was packed.
Both of them were still in the clothes they’d worn the day before and both were in dire need of a full bath.
They were both weighed down with bags and satchels as they slipped out the back door of the shop and cut through the mews to a side street, where Jonathan hired a hack to take them to Tyburnia.
As the hack passed in front of the shop, Jonathan glanced out the window with a worried look. “I have this horrible feeling in my stomach like this is the last time I will ever see this place,” he said.
Charlie reached for his hand and squeezed it. He had the same feeling.
Half an hour later, the hired carriage pulled up in front of the plain brick facade of The Zagreus Den. The driver helped them with their things, Jonathan paid the man, and they approached the Den’s ordinary door.
One knock was all it took. One knock, and as soon as the attendant who opened the door saw them with their arms laden with baggage, they were welcomed into the Den with open arms.
Jonathan flinched when the door shut behind him. “Never has a closing door felt so final,” he said quietly to Charlie.
“If you would like, sir, I can see to your belongings,” the door attendant said with a welcoming smile.
Charlie nodded subtly at Jonathan, certain the lightness he felt was in deep contrast to the wariness he could see in his master’s eyes.
“You may take these,” Jonathan replied, setting down the two cases he carried, then stepping over to Charlie to take the satchel from his shoulder. “This one, we’ll keep with us.”
The satchel contained the photographs. It was the only thing they’d brought with them that truly mattered.
As soon as their belongings were sorted, the attendant led them deeper into the Den. Instead of being shown to the grand banquet hall, where Charlie could hear music and conversation, they were taken to the same parlor where they’d had their last audience with Brutus and Titus.
They did not have to wait there long. Jonathan was in the middle of pacing restlessly and Charlie stood to the side watching him when Brutus and Titus strode purposefully into the room, Valentine following them.
Charlie burst into a relieved smile at the sight of his friend, but Jonathan rounded on Brutus and Titus, suddenly brimming with anger.
“You sent me into a viper’s pit without giving me sufficient warning,” he said, approaching them with angry strides. “Two men were murdered before our eyes and a third somewhere else. I’ve no doubt that Charlie and I would have been next.”
Brutus and Titus stopped a few feet short of Jonathan and exchanged regretful looks.
“So Charles has resorted to violence,” Titus said, sounding upset at the admission.
Brutus blew out a breath and lowered his head for a moment. “We always knew he had that sort of rancor in his soul.”
“He is your brother,” Jonathan spat, angrier by the second. “You did not inform me that I was to be a pawn in the middle of a game between brothers.”
Charlie wanted to go to him and hold him, if only to bring a shred of calm to his soul.
Brutus and Titus looked surprised that Jonathan knew the truth.
“We did not tell you because we did not anticipate your role in the war we are fighting against our brother to be as dangerous as it has apparently been,” Brutus said.
“What did you think would happen when you sent me to a place where politicians and industrialists were being courted into blackmail and where a young lord was being drugged and held for God only knows what purpose?”
Brutus and Titus exchanged another quick, almost triumphant look.
“Lord Fabian is at Fairford House?” Titus asked.
Jonathan gaped at them as though they had entirely missed the crux of his anger. “He was at Fairford House,” he said. “He is not now.”
“He is not?” Brutus’s triumphant look dropped to worry.
“Dalhurst moved him,” Jonathan said. “He was shuffled off into a carriage and taken away to some unknown hell.”
“They said they had a buyer,” Charlie murmured softly to Valentine, grabbing his friend’s hand to try to steady himself.
Valentine glanced anxiously to Brutus and Titus.
“What is it?” Titus asked, taking a step closer to them.
Jonathan stepped in front of Charlie to block him. “You will not go anywhere near Charlie until you can convince me that you are not in league with your brother,” he growled.
Pride swelled in Charlie, but also worry. Despite everything, he was still convinced the Den was good. He feared what might happen if Jonathan let his anger get the better of him.
Fortunately, Brutus took a step forward, touching his brother’s arm and pulling him back.
“You are completely right to be angry with us,” he said, nodding respectfully at Jonathan. “Please allow me to send for refreshments so that we might sit and talk together.”
Jonathan wavered. He glanced over his shoulder at Charlie.
With a warm rush like an embrace, Charlie remembered what Jonathan had said to him on the train. He needed him. He needed Charlie to help him make the right decisions.
Charlie met Jonathan’s eyes, and did his best to smile. He nodded, then stepped away from Valentine to take his hand.
As soon as Charlie touched him, Jonathan relaxed and his shoulders sagged. “Refreshments, yes,” he said, folding both of his hands around Charlie’s.
“Valentine? Would you?” Titus asked calmly.
Valentine nodded and hurried out of the room.
As soon as he was gone, Brutus extended a hand to one of the comfortable sofas at the side of the room. “Please, sit,” he said.
Jonathan nodded and walked with Charlie to take a seat. Perhaps wisely, Brutus and Titus sat in two chairs that made up a circle with the sofa instead of trying to be close to them.
“I understand that you are angry, and in a way, your anger is justified,” Brutus said in a voice that could calm a raging elephant.
Jonathan breathed heavily for a few moments, still clutching Charlie’s hand tightly. “Why did you involve me in this?” he demanded. “And why did you not ensure that I was fully informed before I left for Wiltshire?”
“There wasn’t time,” Titus said, not quite as soothing as his brother, but still calm. “The house party had already begun by the time Thomas was able to convince Frome to send for you.”
Jonathan sat straighter, his eyes widening incredulously. “Thomas is one of you,” he said. It was not a question.
“He is,” Brutus said with a nod. “Though our brother thinks he is one of them.”
“A double agent,” Jonathan murmured, his posture slipping as he took in the information. “He saved our lives.”
“Likely at the risk of his own,” Titus agreed.
“Will he be safe?” Charlie asked, though he had no idea if he was allowed to speak in the presence of such dominant men.
Brutus smiled softly at him. “Thomas is clever and quick. We have not heard from him as of yet, but I am certain he will preserve himself.”
Charlie wished he was as certain.
“Please,” Jonathan said, staring at the floor instead of their hosts, like his patience was at its end. “Please tell me what precisely is happening here.” He looked up and glared at both men. “I no longer wish to be in the dark.”
Brutus and Titus exchanged careful looks.
“I have earned the right to know what I have been involved in,” Jonathan said more forcefully. “You have already made me one of you by default. I demand to know what war I am now a soldier in.”
The two brothers seemed to come to some sort of conclusion. Titus nodded, then Brutus turned to Jonathan and Charlie and spoke.