Worlds Apart

by Stein Willard

  Her mood darkened, when she rode through the large gates to her estate and noted Lady Rocheline’s coach in the drive-up. The woman was becoming a liability. What had started out as a mutual liaison of consent, had quickly turned into the woman acting as if she owned Oasis. She rode up to the stairs and swung out of the saddle. The door opened and the blonde rushed down the stairs towards her. Oasis held her at an arm’s length as she quickly reached for the woman’s hand and brought it to her lips. There was no time as the present to discuss the verbal clauses of their sexual liaison.

  “Lady Rocheline, it’s good to see you again. I was hoping you would stop by, since I needed to discuss something with you.”

  “Well, milord, you need only send for me and I’ll be by your side.” She fluttered her eyelashes as her eyes glittered with lust.

  “In that case, I suggest we go for a walk.” The blonde eagerly hooked her arm through hers. Oasis didn’t go far before she started talking. “Do you still remember when we decided to start seeing each other?”

  Sharp nails bit into Oasis’ bicep. “Of course, I do.”

  Oasis stopped and cocked her head as she looked at the petite blonde. “Remember we vowed to stop if it didn’t work out.”

  Lady Rocheline stiffened and slowly pulled her arm from Oasis’. “Where is this going, Benedict?”

  Oasis grimace. After many years of trying to conceive and failing, her father had come up with the plan that if he never got to sire an heir with his wife, Oasis would be his only heir. The name Benedict Pope was added to his private documents. Oasis hated the name almost as much as she hated finding herself in this situation right now. And she hated it coming from Rocheline’s mouth. The woman’s blue eyes were hard as they studied her.

  “Is it Lady Tia?”

  “No, it’s not Lady Tia.” She pursed her lips. To blame Tia of all people. “It’s you and the fact that you act as if you have ownership over me.”

  The blonde looked away for a moment and when she looked back, her eyes shone with tears. “I simply got carried away, Benedict. Please, don’t do this.”

  Oasis shook her head. She had callously hurt beautiful Grace with her words two weeks ago and the girl had not deserved it. Here, she was confronted with a very calculating woman who had her eyes firmly fixed on her money and yet, she found it hard to say what she really wanted. But she needed to say it.

  “I think it would be better if we terminate our liaison. We both need the clarity of time to evaluate our need for permanent mates.” She threw her arms wide. “My father died without an heir and I can’t have the same happen to me.”

  The blue eyes fluttered away and back again. This time there were no more tears, only anger. “I think it’s too late for that.”

  Oasis’ worse fear had come true. Blackmail. She gave the woman a sharp glare. “Excuse me.”

  “That’s why I came to see you. I’m with child.”

  ***

  Tia rolled over and gasped when she bumped into a warm body. She reached for the lantern, but her hand was grabbed mid-air. “Let. Go. Of. My. Hand.”

  There was a small hesitation before her hand was released. “If you switch on the light, I’m leaving and you’ll never hear from me again.” The threat was issued through clenched teeth and Tia didn’t doubt its veracity. She dropped her hand and swung her feet off the bed. There was no way she was going to share her bed with a strange man. Especially not when she could sense the annoyance coming off him in waves. Something was wrong with him and she didn’t think it had anything to do with the note she had sent him. She folded her arms over her breasts as she stood at the end of the bed, trying to make out his shape.

  “Did something happen?” she asked carefully. Her query was met by silence. She had almost given up on getting an answer when he spoke.

  “Nothing, I can’t handle.” There was a rustling sound and soft footfalls. She caught a whiff of sandalwood as he walked past her. “Tell me about the boys.” She heard a liquid being poured. He was quite adept in the dark. She couldn’t even make out her hand and here he was strolling around her room serving himself from her brandy stock. “I’m waiting, Your Grace.”

  “They are all between the ages of fourteen and seventeen and from Fairfield. The boys died in the past two weeks and there is no information on the cause of death.”

  “Any idea who found the bodies?”

  “No idea.” The Maverick walked past her again, this time in the direction of the door. “That’s it? You’re leaving?”

  There was a soft chuckle. “Unless I get a better offer, I’ll stay.”

  She scoffed. Brute. She always seems to forget who and what she was dealing with. She watched his silhouette as he left her room. Was someone in her household aiding him? How come he could come and go as he pleases? And using the front door, no less. She crawled back into her bed and lay with her eyes open. Something was bothering him. She wished she had felt more comfortable with him to have pushed the issue. But she was not so stupid as to antagonise an already aggravated violent criminal who had broken into her room in the dead of the night. Her last thought before she dozed off, was that she hoped he got better soon. They were making a difference and she really needed him.

  ***

  Oasis carefully jumped over a puddle of water as she made her way to the Warf. With her cape and her hat pulled low over her face, anyone who knew of The Maverick would recognize her. After leaving the duchess, she had known that there was only one man in the whole of London who could give her more information on the deaths of the boys.

  Jimmy Pegleg was a retired seadog and a man who realised early on that information paid better than selling fish. He bought and sold it, like a precious commodity. She came to a stop before the Crow’s Inn and looked around before she slid inside. She would hate to be caught up in a police raid. Most of the riffraff who frequented the place, had more than a few run-ins with the coppers. That was reason enough for the coppers to target the place. Fortunately for her, she wasn’t planning on staying long.

  The inside was crude and loud. The men drunk and rowdy. She used the shadows in the room to make her way to the bar. The bartender’s eyes widened slightly when he recognized her and with a curt jerk of his head directed her to the backroom. She sidestepped rowdy sailors and flirty women until she made it to the backroom. The room was quiet and a large fire burned cheerily in the fireplace. A man was seated before the fireplace. Jimmy Pegleg was aptly named, for he wore a wooden leg after his leg was bitten clean off by a shark. A wet cough filled the room and she walked closer. The man was not long for this world. Years of excess had taken its toll. She pulled a chair closer and Jimmy turned his head to look at her.

  “Ah, the Lord of the Underworld. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He took a sip from a dented cup.

  “Four bodies were found in the woods. What do you know about that?” She watched his face closely. She had dealt with him on numerous occasions and knew when he was lying. She had also allowed his business to thrive without any taxes paid to her. In return, she got her information for free.

  “An ugly thing, if you ask me. They used the laddies for sport, the bastards did.” He coughed deeply. “I had not expected you to be the one to come for information.”

  “And why’s that?” She leaned back in her chair, her eyes drawn to the flames.

  “You never get involved with the king’s perverted nobles. Why now?”

  Oasis stretched out her legs. “Maybe I got tired of doing nothing.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Jimmy rasped. “Someone needs to look out for our people.” He pointed a gnarled hand over at the small bureau in the corner. “Get a pen and paper and write down their names and addresses.” After she took the names from him, he looked at her intently. “Make them pay…for the laddies.”

  “I will.”

  ***

  Tia glared at Burton as he held the note out of reach. He was still smarting that she didn’t make it to the dinner with hi
m and Janine and no amount of explaining had softened him up. She turned to look at the door leading to the hospice. “I’m running late, Burton.”

  He shrugged. “Then set a new date and don’t miss it this time.”

  “Fine. We’ll have dinner tonight in your wing and I won’t miss it.” She gave him a sour look. “Is that all?”

  “Another thing.” He handed her the note. “No matter what’s in the note, you still promise not to cancel on us.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not fair. You know what we do…what we are trying to do. This could be important.”

  Burton sighed, his broad face hard. “We don’t get to spend time with you anymore.” He shrugged. “I know what you’re doing and I know how important it is for you.” He smiled. “Sister Madeline is waiting.”

  Tia turned and caught the eyes of the nun. She nodded at Burton and rushed to meet the older woman. Sister Madeline looked frazzled. “What’s wrong, Sister? Did something happen since yesterday?” The nun looked around them and shook her head.

  “Not here.” They walked down the hallways until they ended up in the chapel. The nun hesitated for a moment. “I’m not sure if I should tell you this, but…” Sister Madeline made the sign of the cross. “It seems that the boys were shot and killed with crossbows.”

  “Crossbows? That doesn’t sound right.” She mentally waved away her own inane remark. Anything was possible. “Nobody uses crossbows anymore.”

  Sister Madeline nodded. “But that is not what is bothering me.” The nun looked seriously concerned. “The Maverick seems to know who does.”

  Tia felt faint as she looked at the nun. Could it be that the nun knew The Maverick? She took a careful step closer to Sister Madeline. “The Maverick? You…you know The Maverick?”

  The nun looked away, first duty and then distress flashing over her face. When she looked at Tia, her blue eyes were awash with affection. “The Maverick is an enigma. He…his goals are sincere, but they sometimes…” She shook her head. “You made us both late, you know.” She swiftly left the chapel and Tia was about to follow when she remembered the note. She unfolded it. There were four names. They were Percival Jane, the Earl of Hilliard, Martin Shepard, the Baron of Grove, Stephen Abernathy, the Baron of Perth and Colin Barnabas, the Baron of Clede. Tia stared at the names. These were the sons of respected parliamentarians. Men who were at the helm of setting the ethical standards and agendas and who oversaw the governance of the country. She folded the note, deeply disillusioned by the people she called her peers. She wished she could get back to The Maverick and remind him that murder was not an option. The young lords deserved to be punished, but she was not going to stoop to their level. She left the chapel in search of Sister Madeline.

  The nun seemed to know The Maverick quite well. Could it be that Sister Madeline was one of their informants?

  ***

  Rage simmered just under the surface, making her hands tremble slightly. Oasis turned away from the table, having read the four signed confessions. She watched the men through the slits in her mask. Their fear was a palpable force in the room. She had abducted them last night. Luckily for her, they were known for their inexplicable disappearances from their homes. No one would miss them. They were young, handsome and rich. They had it all. According to their confessions, they were bored and craved more action. Whoring, drinking and gambling didn’t hold any excitement for them anymore. So, they tried hunting. That, too, quickly became dull. Then young Percival came up with the idea to make the hunting experience more stimulating. That resulted in the deaths of four innocent boys.

  She neared the men where they sat, shackled to their chairs. A soft dripping sound drew her attention to the young Lord Abernathy. The coward was pissing himself. She nodded at her men and they stepped closer. The four men looked frightfully at the burly men. Oasis had chosen her most menacing-looking men for this job. The young nobles knew that their presence there was not only for show.

  “I have your signed confessions, gentlemen. Thank you for that. But sadly, that is not enough.” She looked at her men. “Your transgression calls for a blood price.” The gasps of horror made her smile. “Don’t be so dramatic, gentlemen. You have two choices.” She walked over to the table and picked up a dagger. In her other hand she picked up a chisel and a hammer. She turned to the bound men, holding up the weapons. “These are your choices.”

  “Ch…choices?” Lord Percival asked carefully. “What do you mean?”

  “It means that you either choose to have the letter M, for murderer, carved on your forehead. Or you have your kneecap shattered, thus rendering you a cripple for the rest of your life.”

  Another dripping sounded, this time from young Lord Barnabas. She turned to her men. “I have a prior engagement. They have an hour to make their decision, or you make it for them.”

  She fingered the note in her pocket. She rushed back to the townhouse and changed. An hour later she found herself outside St. Moira’s hospice. She was a regular visitor to the hospice when she found herself in London. A number of youngsters from the orphanage were employed at her country estate. She tried as best she could to repay the nuns here for their support when she found herself alone in this strange country.

  “It is a pleasure to see you again, milord,” Sister Madeline greeted him warmly when he entered her office. She skirted her desk to come and stand before him. “What brings you here?”

  Oasis grinned. “As if you don’t know, Sister.” She held up the note. “I see you’re still in the business of divine intervention.”

  Sister Madeline blushed. “I need to keep you in check. Your soul is worth saving, my child.”

  Oasis shrugged. “I’ll let you worry about my soul then.” She took the nun’s arm and led her over to her chair. Once they were both seated, she spoke again. “I believe we have a common friend.” She watched the nun closely. Her spies had followed the duchess here.

  “Well, if you have a name, I could probably help you. Otherwise…”

  Gently tapping her top hat on her knee, Oasis studied her old friend. The blue eyes were brimming with mirth as the nun looked at her. “The Duchess of Camphor.” Sister Madeline touched the tip of her fingers to her lip in a contemplative manner. “I know she’s here.”

  “And if that were the case, what would you want from her?” This time the nun’s eyes were serious. “You know that she is not like the others. She is decent and strives to make a difference.”

  Oasis looked away from the penetrating stare. “I know.”

  “Then why, milord?” The emphasis on the masculine address was not missed by Oasis. “There are so many who would welcome your embrace.” Sister Madeline sat back in her chair. “The world is changing and I’m trying to understand these radical adjustments. But there are some things that I would not want to see disturbed. Lady Tia is one of them.”

  Clutching the knob of her walking stick tighter, Oasis swallowed the snarky retort that threatened to fall from her lips. She only practiced restraint with a select few and Sister Madeline was one of them. Instead, she rose and walked to the door. With her hand on the doorknob, she turned to face the old nun. Six years ago, when she was establishing herself as the new order in the underworld, she had ousted some of the most vicious criminals the country had ever known. And it had not been an easy task. It was during one of her cleansing operations, that she got injured. A musket ball to the gut. A wound that would have killed her, were it not for the attentive care of a rebel nun. In the backroom of The Stag ‘n Hound inn, the nun had fought tirelessly for Oasis’ life. To this day, that bond forged on that blood-soaked bed had never been threatened or questioned.

  Until today.

  Lady Tia must mean a lot to Sister Madeline. Why else would the nun jeopardize their solemn pledge to each other? She placed her hat on her head and touched it in farewell. She wasn’t going to lie to the nun and tell her that she would keep her distance from Tia. It was simply impossible. The woman drew Oasis
to her like a moth to a flame. Her reckless playfulness and her misplaced bravery, combined with her startling good looks, were too much for Oasis to resist. And there was the fact that they were working together. She would rather just leave here and not fill the old nun with hope. Maybe one day… The door swung open. Pain exploded in her head and she fell back, hitting the wall hard. She slowly slid down into a sitting position.

  “Oh gosh,” a new voice gasped and Oasis tried to open her eyes. Voluminous blue material could be seen rushing to her aid. She blinked to clear her vision and almost sighed in despair when the beautiful face of Lady Tia swam into focus. “I’m so, so sorry,” she gushed as she tried to help Oasis to her feet, but failing miserably. “What were you doing lurking behind the door?” She gently tilted Oasis’ head up to try and stem the stream of blood.

  “Ahh wannnt urkig,” she said in the most indignant tone she could muster at that moment. How dare Lady Tia imply she was lurking? With Sister Madeline’s help, they managed to get Oasis into a chair. Oasis’ head was tilted back, and although she couldn’t see the women, she could hear them moving around her.

  “What had you barging in here in the first place?” Sister Madeline asked as the two women were dancing around each other, seemingly trying to get a kit together to treat her wounds.

  “You’re needed. There has been a carriage accident. I’ll take care of Lord Pope.”

  Sister Madeline stepped into view, her eyes equal parts amused and concerned. “I’m leaving you in very competent hands, milord. Please follow her instructions and you’ll be as good as new.”