by Aria Norton
The Marquis straightened his clothing, clearing his throat as he sat down. He has never had to beg for anything, he must be desperate. This intrigued Nash, something must have rattled his father quite a bit for him to forget himself and leap across the desk.
“As you know, I am a man who believes that things should be earned. I would like to return your inheritance to you; however, I need you to help me first.”
Since when did the great Lord Blackmore need his help? Something must be seriously wrong.
“How can I possibly help you?”
“Someone has been sending me letters of a disturbing nature, and I need you to find out who it is.”
Letters of a disturbing nature? Did his father have a gaming debt? Did he owe someone money?
“Is someone threatening you, Father?”
"Yes, that is exactly it. Some fool has repeatedly sent me death threats, and I want him found!"
Who dared send Lord Blackmore death threats? Nash had some respect for the person, as it took a courageous or foolish person to do such a thing.
“What did you do?”
“And what do you mean by that?”
"Father, no one can send a death threat for no reason. Did you double-cross someone?"
Nash watched the Marquis twirl his moustache between his fingers. I see that he has to think about that, and no wonder, the man is an absolute fiend.
“Perhaps,” he eventually said. “Who can know for sure? I need the perpetrator found, and I want him found soon. If you can do this for me, I shall gladly return your inheritance to you.”
This deal could actually work in his favour. If he indeed found the man sending the threats, he would reach his goal and be able to ask for Freddi's hand in marriage. If I say no, I walk away from an opportunity, but if I say yes, I shall have to involve myself in my father's business. That was the last thing he wanted to do, but the thought of making Freddi his wife was a beckoning beacon of light.
“Who is to say that it is a man?” Nash asked.
“What do you mean? It cannot be a woman!”
Nash shrugged. “I am sure that you have angered many women in the past, Father. Who is to say that one of them is not taking their revenge now?”
The Marquis appeared to think on that for a moment, his fingers working furiously on his moustache. Any harder and that furry creature will fall right off. Nash almost laughed at the thought, recovering in the nick of time.
"Do you truly think so? A woman, you say?"
“It is worth a thought.”
"I shall give you the names of all the courtesans I have dealt with in the past, as well as business partners, those that owe me money- that sort of thing."
Nash relaxed in the chair, looking around the room. “I like what you have done with the room, Father.”
No, not really, but he was feeling charitable at that moment.
“It is no different than the last time you were here.”
"Yes, I suppose so. Well, Father, I accept your offer but on one condition."
“Name it.”
“If I catch this man, not only will I have my inheritance, but I shall also marry whomever I wish to marry.”
His father narrowed his eyes. “You do not mean to tell me that you will marry that servant girl?”
“Whom I marry is not your concern, Father. Do you wish this person to be caught or not?”
“You are the son of a Marquis, a Baron in your own right! You cannot marry that girl.”
“Father, I have not admitted to anything, all I ask is that you agree to let me marry whomever I choose.”
“Very well, I accept your condition. Even if you should wish to marry her, I doubt that you will find her. She no longer works at this estate, and in a week she will cease to call this her home.”
A frisson of alarm went through him. “What have you done, Father?”
“What any father would do in my shoes. She is fortunate that I allowed her to stay for as long as I did. And there is no point in scolding me about it, the decision has been made.”
“How could you? You know that this is the only home she has ever known! And she has just lost her parents, for heaven's sake! Father, what kind of man are you? Have you no heart?”
The man shrugged. “Where she is concerned? No. She is the one who put a wedge between us, the one who turned my healthy son into a cripple.”
“Is that what you think of me? A cripple?”
“What else do you call a man who needs a walking stick to help him walk?”
There was no reasoning with this man! It was as though all the hard work he had put in these years past meant nothing, and it hurt him deeply. Here was the man who had believed that he would never walk again, and yet here he was defying the odds.
Nash wanted to walk away right there and then, but Freddi's face came to his mind. He needed to do this for her, he needed to help her. It was no longer about just marrying her, but giving her security. She must be frightened of what the future may hold for her.
"Father, I was mistaken in believing that you had compassion, common sense, and accountability. No wonder you are receiving death threats! But fine, I shall help you in this, and you shall give me what I want."
Nash stood up, holding his hand out to his father. The Marquis stood up as well, shaking his hand firmly.
“Good on you, boy, you have made the right decision. I shall have Carbunckle give you all the details necessary to catch this fool.”
“And what will you do to the person once I catch them?”
An evil gleam entered his father's eyes. “Now that you need not concern yourself with, son.”
Nash felt sorry for the person that would fall into his father's hands; the man was not the merciful type. But if the person was foolish enough to send those threats, he must have counted the costs. Nash had tallied the costs, and he would come out victorious. It would be wonderful to be able to tell Freddi about his plans, but it was better for him to keep it to himself.
There was the chance that he might not solve the mystery, although Nash was almost certain that he would find the perpetrator. How difficult could it be? Everyone left a trail of some sort, it was only a matter of time before he was able to find it, and discover the poor fool with a death wish.
Chapter 5
Freddi drummed her fingers on her mother's worn table. It was splendid what a good cry could do for a person, and now she felt positively energised. Her earlier plan of getting some supper and resting with a book would not satisfy her now, she needed to get up and do something.
“But what? It is already the afternoon. Should I return to town and try to find employment once again?”
Every home had rejected her, but she had yet to try the taverns. Nash had been the one to give her the idea. It was the last place that she would have wanted to work due to all the unsavoury creatures that frequented the place, but beggars could not be picky about work.
“What is there to it besides dealing with rowdy men, and filling up jugs of alcohol?”
Although the thought of being touched by one of those men made her lips curl. But if that was what she had to go through in order to survive, then so be it. Hopefully, the owner would not look unkindly on her due to the rumours circulating about her character. If anything, it should make her perfect for the job!
“Perhaps there is a silver lining to every cloud.”
Freddi had bathed her feet this morning once again with a remedy her mother had concocted some years back and applied a poultice that would aid her feet to heal the aching blisters faster. The mixture was a bit on the smelly side, but she would rather have stinky feet than painful feet.
She slipped her feet into her mother's shoes which were one size bigger than her own to allow room for the bandages, and drew a black shawl over her shoulders. She had forgotten that her mother had such a shawl; it would come in handy now that she was in mourning. The last thing to complete her attire was a modest bonnet that had seen better days. Perha
ps when she found a job, she could buy a new one.
Freddi left the cottage in higher spirits than when she had entered it, hopeful that today she would finally secure a job and perhaps accommodation as well. It did not matter that people stared at her as she walked past them; she was not concerned with how they spoke behind their hands, pointing at her.
The only thing that mattered was impressing the owner of Black Horse, the first tavern that she would go to. It hardly had a gleaming reputation, but it might just be the perfect place of work for her. She entered the establishment, drawing attention to her. One man in particular who seemed vaguely familiar called out to her, his drunken slur making it almost impossible to hear him. Drunk at this time of the day? Have they no shame?
“Oh, isn't it the pretty Frederica Dunn! Who woulda thought that such a woman would grace our lowly presence? Come 'ere, luv, sit with us!”
“No thank you, gentlemen, I only seek the owner of this establishment.”
“Gentlemen, she said,” the man continued. “No one be calling me a gentleman in m miserable life! What a gem ye are, Miss Frederica! Come, yer first drink is on me.”
“That is too kind, sir, but I really must speak with the owner.”
“What would ye be wanting with Miss Cathy?”
"I only wish to speak to her. Would you be so kind as to point me in her direction?"
The man pointed behind her before returning to his mug. Freddi turned around to see a woman with a significant chest, heavy arms, dark hair, and sharp dark eyes. She was cleaning a mug with a dirty cloth, defeating the purpose in Freddi's opinion. Freddi approached her, feeling a little anxious about meeting such a fearsome woman.
“Miss Cathy?”
The woman answered without looking. “Who wants to know?”
"My name is Frederica Dunn, and I was wondering if you could perhaps offer me employment in your establishment?"
Miss Cathy looked up, her eyebrows raised. “Would ye, now? And why would a lady such as yerself want to work in my tavern?”
“I wish to work, Miss Cathy, any job would suffice.”
“Ye pulling me leg, ye are. Have ye taken a look around here, dearie? Is this any place for a gentle bred woman such as yerself?"
“I am a working woman like yourself, Miss Cathy. I do not have any airs about myself. I worked as a maid in my last position, I can do so here as well. All I ask is that you give me a chance.”
“A chance, ye say?”
“Yes, please, a chance to prove that I can work.”
The woman put the mug and cloth down, leaning on the long table that separated them.
“A pretty young thing like yerself might bring in more business fer me, but the question is if ye will cause me problems? I know yer type, all flighty when a man so much as winks in yer direction. This be no fancy establishment, missy. Take a good look around and see for yerself.”
Freddi did as the woman asked, although her eyes had taken in every detail of the tavern already. The room was reasonably large but crudely made with uneven walls and floors. Despite daylight, it was rather dark, as though it were in a cave rather than in a place of light.
Lamps dotted the walls, doing nothing to hide the dirt on the table tops. The stench left much to be desired, it was as if many men were blowing fumes of alcohol into her face all at once, and just under that smell was the rancid smell of unwashed bodies. No, this was certainly not a place she would work in if she had the choice, but she had run out of those.
“I can see from yer face that ye think this here place beneath ye. Do us a favour, missy, and be on yer way. Yer kind don't belong 'ere.”
"No, no, Miss Cathy, you misunderstand me. I know that I am not used to it, but I am sure with time, it will become like my second home. You did say that I would draw in customers, and I am a hard worker. Please, will you not give me a chance?"
Miss Cathy sized her up, stroking her chin. Freddi thought that a male tendency, but who was she to judge? The woman likely had taken on male characteristics to be able to run this rough establishment. It would not surprise her if the woman were to chew tobacco and spit it out on the floor, a ghastly American trait.
“Maybe I've lost me senses, Miss Frederica, but I am willing to give ye a chance.”
A smile lit up Freddi's face. “Thank you, Miss Cathy. May I ask when I should commence?”
“A trial run it be, today, missy. I want to be sure that yer not having me on. Today, ye will serve my customers, wipe the tables, sweep the floor, clean the mugs, and any other work I find fer ye. Are ye up to it?”
Freddi took that as a challenge. “Yes.”
Bonnet and shawl had long since been discarded as Freddi worked to fill up the drinks of customers while collecting empty mugs. She had not had a chance to sit down in the last two hours, and her blisters were beginning to protest. But she made not a complaint, steadily working through the room.
Miss Cathy kept an eye on her, nodding here and there as she successfully completed each task. One of the other barmaids, Molly, did not take too kindly to her, thinking her competition. Freddi did not want to take any customers away from her, all she wished to do was work and pass the test that Miss Cathy had set for her.
From Freddi's perspective, it seemed as though she were doing most of the work while Molly flirted with the men. Some had tried to flirt with her, but Freddi had brushed them off as politely as she could before moving away from. Fortunately, they were not insistent about gaining her attention, and most were respectful of her.
It is not as bad as I had assumed it to be. Some of these men are working men with families, and not all are drunk.
Of course, some had tried to grab at her, but she had easily moved out of their reach. It was not difficult to outrun a drunk man, even in her painful blister state.
“Another round!” a man yelled out.
Freddi hurried to him and the group of men he was with, collecting their mugs as quickly as she could.
“What a pretty thing, ye are! Have ye any room in yer heart for a poor sod like me?”
It was the man with the red hair, the one who had been keeping an eye on her from the moment he had walked in.
“I would if I had a heart, sir, but I am afraid that my mother and father have taken it with them to their graves.”
The man frowned. “Ey? What's that yer saying?”
“May I take your mug? I would like to fill it up for you.”
He grinned. “Take me mug, me heart, and the clothes off me back.”
"Your mug will suffice, for now, I might just come back for the rest of you."
The men roared with laughter, whistling and walloping the man on his back. Freddi took that as her chance to get away, placing the tray on the bar.
“May I get another round, Miss Cathy?”
The woman nodded, taking each mug and filling it from a large barrel.
"Ye doin' well, missy. Keep this up, and ye will have a permanent job in no time. I saw how ye dealt with those men, not even our Molly could handle the drunk ones at first, but ye did it as though ye been doin' it fer ye whole life."
Freddi beamed with the compliment. “A bit of kindness and tact goes a long way, Miss Cathy.”
