Chapter 4 #2
“Yes, Master Noble. I’ll be back later with the garments that need building or refitting.”
He nodded and returned to the documents. Vivienne seemed to think this perfectly normal as she waved to me and let herself out the door.
I waited a moment, but Noble didn’t look up.
“Vivienne is full of energy,” I said.
“Yes. Stew is in the pot.” He pointed absently to the stove, then made a notation in the corner of a piece of parchment. It seemed so odd to see a man like him so studious.
I sighed. Every wandering thought seemed to be about him. Maddening. I served myself. “Would you like a bowl?”
“No, I’ve already eaten.”
I settled back at the table and broke off a piece of fresh bread. “What are you reading?”
He tapped his quill against the paper and looked up through thick lashes.
“All of the information about your case. The negotiant you’ve hired—and what he has declared.
Your brother will have to answer every question posed by the judge and jury members and deliver his own summary.
Negotiants do nothing to interrupt or lead, no matter what yours promised.
According to this—” He held up the paper.
“You’ve been promised the moon. You’d do well to get your money back. ”
My bread dropped into the bowl. “But Ferris said—”
“Quite.”
I dipped my head and fished out my bread with trembling fingers.
I’d kill him. Ferris had assured me that the negotiant would solve everything.
The negotiant had assured me as well. I hadn’t had time to research the legal system, not with the work I’d been doing on the side, unnoticed by my brother—small jobs to bring in an extra few gold here and there.
Legal issues had mattered little to my daily life other than to keep us from debtor’s prison.
“We will visit the negotiant’s office on Friday to break the contract, then find your brother new counsel,” he said.
Perhaps I should visit today.
As if reading my mind, he gave me a sardonic look and said, “My source said your negotiant is out of town on business. He’ll be back Friday. We’ll retrieve your money. I’ve dealt with his sort before.” His brows slashed together as he focused back on the papers before him.
I nodded, determined to read the legislation myself tonight. I shouldn’t just take Gabriel Noble’s word either.
“A more important matter than the negotiant, we need to discover how your brother came to be standing over a dead woman’s body, saturated in dark magic. I am working on getting us into Montranc, but it may take another day or two.”
He checked something off without looking my way. Good thing, as my heart had stopped beating.
“I need you to distract Archibald Penner today, so we can learn as much as possible about that night, at least from an outsider’s perspective. I need you saucy, not vengeful, in order to get the information we need. We can get your brother’s story later.”
My heart started thumping again. He didn’t believe my brother innocent yet—his tone made that clear—but if he could get me into Montranc to see Kennen, I could forgive him much.
“Thank you.”
He looked up and just watched me with those unnaturally bright eyes for a few moments before looking back to his papers. “Just distract Penner.”
~*~
Archibald Penner answered on the second knock. He was a square man—exceedingly square, as if lines had been drawn from shoulder to hip, his body fitting itself to that mold. He had sandy blond hair and brown eyes, which while not especially sharp, held a spark.
“Master Penner?” Noble wore an easy smile, his features somewhat obscured and softened by a low slung cap.
“Yes?”
Noble stuck out a hand. “Nathaniel Upholt, from The Gilded Guardian. We’d like to do a piece on your capture of the Vein Ripper.”
Penner’s square shoulders puffed back and two spots of color appeared in his cheeks as he vigorously shook the proffered hand. “Come in, come in.”
I followed Noble inside. My first impression of Penner’s house was that it was…fastidious. Perfectly framed pieces, no spare bits of color or style. Geometric. I looked again. Square. Everything was squared away, just like Penner himself.
“This is my assistant, Mistress Klein. Don’t mind her. She’s more for display,” Noble whispered in a stage voice.
I didn’t know whether to be offended or amused. And what was he thinking? Nathaniel Upholt was a real journalist. Noble didn’t seem to understand the importance of that, though, as he calmly retrieved an ink pot, quill, and paper.
Penner gave me a once-over and licked his lips. “Nice, nice.”
In my low cut outfit I wasn’t surprised I warranted a second look from a man with a taste for shopgirls.
Noble had given me cosmetics to apply that didn’t require magic application but contained skin-sinking charms, and without my fumbling, they were surprisingly effective.
They hadn’t turned me into a raging beauty, but they had softened my harsh angles and made me look halfway alive again.
My eyes were brighter, my cheeks and lips glowed, shadows and wanness covered by cosmetic spells that didn’t require my upkeep.
“Have my commendation right here.” He gave me what I assumed was a coy wink. “An upstanding member of Gildon with my services to the town.”
I blinked, but sure enough, there on the wall of his study was a framed piece of paper with a scrawled commendation from the head of the watch. Caught the Vein Ripper, commendation of services to the town. They really had tried and convicted Kennen without so much as a peep of a trial.
“The reward poster was an exact match for the brigand—so when I saw him, I did what any upstanding member would do.”
I looked at the framed handbill with its vague drawing of a man sporting a serious scruff. Nothing like Kennen’s baby cheeks. The reward proclaimed the sum of fifty gold to anyone who apprehended the murderer.
“Planning to use the money to do good works. You can print that.” He pointed to Noble’s poised quill.
“What type of good works?” I wanted to know what my brother’s life cost. Noble gave me a warning glance.
“Oh, this and that. Make sure the lads at the pub have a round or two.”
Noble gave me a look that promised death should I continue that line of questioning.
“Now, where were you when you realized you had the Vein Ripper in your grasp?” Noble’s tone was both flattering and curious.
Penner leaned forward. “At my pub. The White Stag. Celebrating with the lads. Went out for a bit to clear my head and I heard a sound—a cry for help. I ran around the corner, ready to help a fair lady, but I was too late.” He hung his head. “The bastard had already done her in.”
“How do you know it was Winters?”
“He was hunched over the body! Covered in blood and darkness. His eyes met mine. Demon’s gaze, dark magic enriched! I knew immediately. I let out a yell and tackled him.”
Noble lifted a brow. “You tackled a murderer? Very brave.”
Penner puffed out. “Couldn’t let him get away. I’m quite the sportsman. Know how to put a man down. Can handle some fists.”
Tall, lanky Kennen had probably gone down like a sapling felled by a thick, monstrous axe.
Penner gave me another coy glance. I dredged up a weak smile.
“Did he say anything? Try to proclaim his innocence? Try to run?” Noble asked.
“Blighter looked smacked in the gob. Like he didn’t know why I hit him. As if murdering women were not a sin.” Penner clenched his fist in disgust.
I exchanged a glance with Noble and was gratified to see the thoughtful look in his.
“And then what happened?”
“The watch guards came. We have five fellas from the Stag that make the rounds. One of the men on duty was in the pub.”
“The man who arrested K—the brigand—had he been drinking?” I asked.
Noble’s lips pinched together as Penner’s head swung toward me.
“No more than need be. Just what are you implying, Mistress Klein?”
Noble tapped the feather of his quill against his leg. His expression said, Talk yourself out of this one.
“It just seems such a dangerous business. You must have needed to double your efforts to keep the murderer subdued if the watchman on duty was below the weather.”
It wasn’t my best effort, but Penner’s slow nod became more vigorous. “Yes, I do my duty, no matter what.” He leaned into my space, expression turning coy again. “I know how to take care of things.”
“How lovely.” Not quite what I’d had in mind when I’d lamented my failed charms.
Noble gave me another warning glance, but he was no longer glaring as he turned back to make a few more notes.
He asked three more questions—about Penner’s commendation, the White Stag, and what had happened after the tackling, but nothing stood out in the answers.
Penner was just a do-gooder who I fervently wished had not “done good” that particular night.
“If you need any more information, Master Upholt, send your assistant back. I’ll make sure she gets all she needs.” He leered.
I forced another smile. Like the time I was told I would make a decent bedwarmer if I put my sharp tongue to better use. If I were truly desperate enough to go that route, I would not choose the man who ruined Kennen.
We walked from the house, and I held my tongue until we were well away.
“What were you thinking to impersonate Nathaniel Upholt? What is Archibald Penner going to do when he doesn’t see his write-up in the paper?”
Noble looked unconcerned. “Oh, the article will appear in The Gilded Guardian.”
“What? How?”
“I spoke to Nathaniel this morning. He was more than happy to give me the task of interviewing Archibald Penner.”
My jaw dropped. “You spoke to Nathaniel Upholt?”
“By way of courier, yes.”
“And you did all of this before I awakened?”
“Not all of us can afford to be layabouts.” His arms swung loosely at his sides as he walked. Noble seemed much more relaxed on foot. “You gilded types are all the same. Sleep until noon and then fritter your nights away.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I do not fritter my nights away.”
“Really? And what do you do at night?”
“I go to social events. Parties or galas. Sometimes a musicale. Or a charity event.” And in the midnight hours, hid pay-for-work tasks from Ferris in my room.
“Well, I must retract my frittering comment in that case.”
“It’s not frittering. It’s surviving.” I gritted my teeth.
“Social survival is quite the onerous task.”
“Quite.” I kicked a stone on the path. Stupid soft shoes.
“Your days must be very satisfying.”
“I find you irritating, Master Noble.”
“I am most distressed to hear that, of course, Lady Winters.”
He tipped his hat to two girls passing. I mulishly looked back to see the girls madly whispering, eyes wide as they watched him, girlish giggles rolling out one after the other.
“Must you do that?”
“Walk?”
“Encourage them.”
“I tipped my hat. Are you against politeness?”
“At this time, quite possibly. My irritation borders dangerously close to dislike.”
“Yes. I can’t say I’m fond of you either.”
The lazy grin with which that was delivered made my heart speed up two notches. I was quite irritated by that as well.