“Where were you? You have missed quite the spectacle.” She threw her arms wide. “The father of Lady Rocheline’s unborn baby has finally been determined.”
Tia blinked as she looked at Oasis and back to the queen. “I don’t…I don’t understand, Your Majesty.”
The queen signalled for a servant to bring them fresh drinks. “Captain Henry Masters requested the hand of Lady Rocheline and claimed the unborn child as his.” She glanced at Lord Pope over her fan. “It would seem that that you’re off the hook.”
The dark eyes were unreadable as he bowed his head respectfully at the queen. “It’s a relief, Your Majesty.” He glanced at Tia and found her staring straight ahead. Look at me, she wanted to order, but knew that Tia was not a woman you took on in public and walked away unscathed from the encounter. A servant came over with drinks and the queen held up her glass.
“To new beginnings, Lord Pope.” The green eyes switched to a quiet Tia and back at him.
Oasis grinned. The queen definitely had sense of humour. “I’ll definitely drink to that, Your Majesty.” Still, Tia remained quiet as she sipped her champagne. Oasis was relieved when the queen persisted on drawing a reluctant Tia into the conversation.
An hour later, the queen signalled for her ladies-in-waiting and after a quick farewell to Tia, she winked at Oasis and left with her entourage. Tia placed her half empty glass on a nearby picnic table and turned to Oasis.
“I forgot that I had a prior engagement,” she said shortly and curtsied. She turned to leave, but stopped to face him again. Her brilliant blue eyes searched his face. “I want to thank you for your company, milord.”
Oasis smiled and bowed to her. She had hoped she could say something witty or even invite her out for a ride, but the intense look in her eyes, had left her speechless. The most sought-after woman in the whole of Britain had no business looking at her like that. He watched as she made her way over the wide expanse of the lawn, dodging would-be suitors.
“You lucky devil, Pope,” a voice said nearby. Oasis turned to find Lord Percy Hamilton, the fourth Marquess of Penworth. They weren’t friends, but Oasis found the other man’s company quite refreshing. His life story almost paralleled hers. The bastard son of a noble and a servant girl, he had to step in when his father died unexpectedly, still unmarried. Unlike her, Percy didn’t mind the stiffness of the nobility, but enjoys the power and privilege it accords him.
“What do you mean?”
Percy’s brown eyes twinkled. “You’ve dodged a bullet today, old man.”
Shrugging, Oasis sipped from her glass. “True love will always prevail.” After Rocheline’s hint about a possible pregnancy, Oasis knew that for the woman to make the claim stick, she would have to conceive. She had the woman followed and before long, she was caught in a few very compromising situations with the handsome Captain Henry Masters. It was also obvious that the man was smitten with Rocheline. An anonymous tip about the unborn child as well as the whereabouts of Rocheline, compounded by a small lie about an attempt from the young lady to abort the child, brought about the desired reaction.
“Whatever, man. You are my hero. Not many men get to ‘play without pay’ nowadays.” He bumped Oasis’ shoulder. She thanked the stars that Tia had left already. “Most of my buddies are married because they weren’t careful.”
She smiled faintly and placed her glass on the tray of a passing servant. “I have to go. Are we still on for the game tomorrow night at the Club?”
“Of course. Most of the men are looking forward to hear how you’ve managed to wiggle out of a marriage and still succeeded in monopolising the attention of the delectable duchess.”
Oasis touched her hat and walked away. The moment the discussion turned to Tia, Lord Hamilton was unaware that he was treading on dangerous ground.
***
Burton mumbled something under his breath, which Tia ignored. Upon her return from the picnic, she had questioned Mini again and it came to light that this weekend was a probable date for an outing arranged by the House of Trichardt. She had dressed in her disguise and this time made sure that not a whiff of citrus clung to her. Now, they were waiting in a hired carriage on a side street from the House of Trichardt. Any transport leaving the school would have to pass by them. Tia had sent a note to The Maverick, but haven’t heard back from him, but she wasn’t too worried. He had come through each and every time and she needed to think of a way to repay him for his commitment. Her cheeks heated up as she recalled their first meeting and the man’s insinuation. He had since been a perfect gentleman.
“It’s past midnight. I think we should call it a night,” Burton said from behind her and she almost jumped out of her skin. She wasn’t ready to give up just yet. What if, as soon as they left, the girls were smuggled out? She wouldn’t be able to forgive herself.
“Just an hour more and then we can leave.”
“Your man’s right, milady,” a familiar voice said from the shadows. Burton had his pistol out, searching the shadows. She touched his shoulder and shook her head. It was the first time she was meeting The Maverick outside of her bedroom and she was eager to see what he looked like.
“I was just thinking about you.” She immediately regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. Burton’s head jerked in her direction and Tia shrugged even as a dark, husky chuckle sounded from the shadows. “I meant I was thinking of how well we work together.”
“That is a great compliment, Your Grace.” A tall form untangled itself from the shadows. Tia waited with bated breath as the man came closer. “I have received your note and immediately put my people on the street. I’ve even managed to plant a mole in the school. It would seem that there will be no nightly excursions tonight.” A wide brimmed hat was pulled low over his face, hiding his features, but the low light of a nearby oil lamp showed a strong jaw. “I will leave my men on the street, but I think we should call it a night.” He moved away.
“Wait!” The man stopped, his back still turned to her. “I want us to sit down and talk about all this.”
He chuckled. “You mean you want to know my true identity, Your Grace.”
Tia blushed as she glanced at Burton. He had an eyebrow cocked at her. She quickly looked away. “Not at all,” she lied blatantly. “You can choose a place and you can wear your disguise, if it’ll make you feel more comfortable.”
He turned back to her. The rim of his hat hid his face from the oil lamp just above him. “I believe that can be arranged.” He bowed deeply. “I’ll be in touch.” The shadows quickly swallowed him up.
“I must say that you keep dangerous company,” Burton said as he held the carriage door open for her. “Despite his jolliness, that man is not someone to toy with, Tia.” His face was hidden by the dark, but his tone was serious. “A man who ran the most vicious criminals out of London, didn’t do it with smiles and flowers.”
Tia agreed with Burton, but there was also a side to the man that Burton will never completely understand. The part of The Maverick who shows up in her room in the dead of night. If he had meant her harm, he had ample opportunity to do so. With a sigh and a last glance at the gates of the House of Trichardt, she climbed into the carriage.
***
Oasis leaned against a wall not far from where Tia and her man stood. Her heart thundered in her chest. It was getting more difficult every time to walk away from the woman. Every part of her protested when she had to do so. Hidden by the shadows, she closed her eyes. A dangerous thing to do considering that the underworld in London was still peppered with a few elements sympathetic to the old crime lords. A shadow moved closer and faster than the eye could blink, she had her six-shooter out and pointed right at the newcomer.
“Good to see that you haven’t gone soft in this pampered lifestyle.”
Oasis opened her eyes and smiled at her friend. Caleb Blue came with her from the colonies, the half-breed issue of a plantation owner and one of his slaves. As soon as he could, the y
oung boy had run away and learned how to survive in the West. He had come to visit with his family, when Oasis’ mother took over the plantation. The two teenagers became cautious friends and very quickly began to raise hell together. When the slaves were all freed, many had chosen to remain and work for a wage. Over the years some had left, but Caleb’s family remained. He was the brother that Oasis never had and she had been thrilled when he offered to accompany her to England.
“What did you find out?” Oasis asked as she holstered her gun. In the dim lighting, Caleb’s grey eyes were sombre.
“They managed to smuggle the girls out much earlier. With the one girl missing, the headmistress is being careful.” He took out his cigarette makings. “Why do you suppose is it so easy to catch these people?”
Oasis sighed. “Because they always got away with it.” She accepted a cigarette from Caleb and lit it. She took a deep drag and blew the smoke upwards. “They didn’t fear any retribution.”
Caleb lit his own cigarette. “Until now.”
They finished their cigarettes in silence. Oasis turned to Caleb. “Are you ready?”
“Yes. The coppers will do a search of the premises and slap anyone at the Club with a disorderly conduct charge, which will carry a hefty fine.”
“Good.” She pulled her hat over her eyes. “I want to deal with Mistress Trichardt myself.”
***
Caroline Trichardt once had a hard life. Growing up poor and faced with the prospects of dying in the same state, she had clawed her way to respectability. The fact that she was smart and beautiful made her an ideal candidate at a girl’s academy similar to the House of Trichardt. But looking after the spoilt brats of the rich and pampered was not what she was planning to do forever. When the librarian near where she worked, as a governess, approached her with a marriage proposal, the fact that he was twice her age had not bothered her. All she could see was freedom and a good name.
Mister Henry Nickel was not of the peerage, but he had good connections. Connections that she couldn’t wait to exploit. So, when Henry passed in his sleep three years after their marriage, thanks largely to the ‘special’ tea she made him on a daily basis, she had studied the mourners from behind her veil with hard, dry eyes. The awkward offers of assistance, should there be any need, had been gracefully accepted. They were quickly converted into favours and two years after Henry’s passing, the House of Trichardt opened its doors. With the late duchess of Camphor as its patron, donations kept rolling in and the reputation of the school was boosted a great deal.
That was until one of her many discreet lovers whispered the potential of another revenue stream to her. The money was too good to turn down and it had been a secret she had guarded well. Until tonight. She shivered as she looked up at the man sitting opposite her.
“I assure you that you are completely mistaken, mister.” She spat at the man indignantly. “I would die first before I would allow my girls to be used in such a fashion.”
She knew who he was. Everyone knew who he was and everyone feared him. She folded her hands to hide her dread. The man only came out when he wants to make an example of someone. When she was dragged from her bed and bundled into the carriage, she had almost fainted when she saw the large, dark clad man seated on the opposite bench.
“As we speak, Scotland Yard is searching your premises. They are running the names of each girl to make sure they are all accounted for.” His voice was dark with menace. “You and I both know that six of the girls cannot be accounted for.” He lifted his head, the mask of a skull causing a shiver to run down her spine. Death. The dark eyes staring through the holes of the mask, were black as death. “In another sting operation, a group of coppers are raiding the Gentlemen’s Club on St. James’ street. Each of the patrons found within the vicinity of the girls will be slapped with a warrant. How quickly do you think they will give you up?”
Caroline felt faint. It was a bigger mess than she had thought. The loyalty of the nobles only stayed with their own kind. She doubted they would protect her. Her hands began to shake. This was the end. She could lose everything. The House of Trichardt would probably be closed down or renamed with a new headmistress. She could end up in prison for years. That was everything. She would have nothing left.
The carriage came to a stop. She looked out the window and quickly back at the silent man. The door opened and two burly men reached in for her. “What…what are we doing here? Why did you bring me here?” Her voice was shrill with panic. Why did he bring her to a whorehouse?
“I thought it was only fitting to let you experience what those girls went through. Lecherous men pawing at them. Treating them like animals.” She gasped as she stared at him. “Don’t worry, I’m not an advocate for rape, unlike you, but even without that, I’m sure you won’t be left cheated by the experience.”
The men dragged her from the carriage. The inside of the whorehouse made her cringe. Men, a lot of them, drunk and unwashed, turned to look at her. The hungry looks in their eyes made her try to break for the door.
“Not just yet, Mistress Trichardt. You still have the whole night and mid-morning to entertain these gentlemen.”
Now she’ll truly have nothing left.
VI
‘The Dark Veil I’
Susie Hogarth was born with a sunny disposition.
Nothing spectacular marked the day of her birth, expect for the fact that her mother was convinced that her new-born baby girl had greeted the world with a wide toothless smile. And nothing much had changed since then. She grew up in one of the poorest parts of the poorest slum, but it never bothered her. She realised very early on that opposites must exist to keep the balance in life. If there were poor people, then there needed to be rich people, too. Even on the evenings that they had to go to bed hungry, she had been convinced that on those same nights, there were people who had it much worse than them.
Yes, she suffered from perpetual optimism, too.
But today, she found it a tad difficult to smile and to be optimistic as she made her way down the muddy streets towards the police station. This was the eleventh time that she made the trip to the see the coppers. Their impatience and discourtesy with her didn’t bother her too much, for she needed them. She was so lost in thought in her long walk over there that she was shocked to find herself standing opposite the large imposing building. She patted down her washed-out dress, straightened her shoulders and with determined strides crossed the street to enter the building.
The place always overwhelmed her. It was loud and busy. And so cold. She took a deep breath and walked over to the desk sergeant.
“Hello, sir. I’m Susie Hogarth and I’m here to find out if there’s any news of my sister. She’s been missing for three weeks now.”
The man looked at her from down his nose, his disdain for her and what she represented, clear on his face.
“Do you know who worked on the case?”
“A Constable Edward Hicks.”
He shook his head. “Hicks was transferred. They haven’t appointed anyone in his position yet.” He moved away and began to flip through a file.
“What does that mean? Is there no one who can tell me anything?”
The sergeant looked up. “Listen,” he said as he came closer to stand before her. “it is very rare to find someone who doesn’t want to be found. I’ll tell you what, go home, make yourself a nice cup of tea or whatever it is you drink at home and forget about your sister. As soon as her john gets tired of her, he’ll send her packing and you’ll have her back.”
She stared at the man in shock. “Lily is not like that.”
“In that case, the news is not much better. The body will turn up when it does.”
Not sure she could stand to hear more, Susie ran from the building.
***
“You haven’t left the house in almost a week.”
Tia looked up from her plate and scowled. “Since when has it become a sin to stay indoors?”
Burton shrugged. “Since it’s you we’re talking about.”
“I need to rest,” Tia said shortly then savagely stabbed at a piece of potato. She chewed it slowly, ignoring Burton’s appraisal. “What?”
“Does it perhaps have anything to do with the article in the newspaper?” he asked calmly as he returned to his lunch.
Yes, the article. That stupid article that had made her so angry. He had lied to her face. She felt like throwing her knife at something. Imagine her shock when she woke to an article about the House of Trichardt scandal. Twelve noblemen, amongst them well-respected legislators, had been caught in very compromising positions with the young girls from House of Trichardt. They were all charged under the Disorderly Houses Act of 1751 and were expected to appear in court in a week’s time. In another shocking turn, a picture of a clearly intoxicated Caroline Trichardt posing inside a whorehouse with a bunch of the drunken, leering patrons had completely destroyed the woman’s reputation. She would also face a prison sentence for the role she played in setting these girls up to be assaulted.
The House of Trichardt had been renamed and a new headmistress was expected to take over starting next week. It all worked out for the best. Yet, Tia was fuming. In actual fact, she felt more betrayed than angry. She so desperately wanted to bring Caroline Trichardt down for betraying her mother’s trust. And yes, she felt betrayed that The Maverick had lied and gone behind her back to do just that.
Burton poured himself another cup of tea and studied her intently over the rim. “Why don’t you ask for a meeting and the two of you talk about this?”
She gave an unladylike snort. “He stood there and lied to my face about what was going on. I doubt he was even truthful about him being willing to meet me.”
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