The Sisters Mederos

by Patrice Sarath

  Men rushed into the gambling salon from the other gallery. There was another loud bang as the bandit discharged the second pistol through the open window. The screaming was almost as deafening.

  “Where did he go, Miss Mederos?” someone asked her, shaking her so violently her teeth rattled. The man’s eyes were wild. “Quick – we can still catch him. Which way did he go?”

  She pointed where the walk followed the garden wall, quickly disappearing into the hedges and the rose arbor. That way led to the back alleys of Port Saint Frey, with its many byways and nooks and crannies and crooked little mews and the secret pathways down to the docks. It was the perfect place to get lost. Her questioner cursed and thrust her at the crowd of fashionable men and women who poured through the door with cries and questions.

  Some of the servants and grooms brought lamps and pistols of their own. The head coachman had the Iderci hunting dogs on long leashes, and they bayed an eerie call to the night. Someone had been sent for the police, and still others said they would stay to keep guard over the house and make sure the man didn’t return with accomplices.

  Tesara let the commotion wash over her. The women forgot all about her status and chafed her wrists and patted her face with scraps of handkerchiefs bathed in cucumber water, and murmured over her. Elenor Sansieri brought her own warm wrap and covered her with it and then hugged her for good measure.

  Her heart was humming with excitement as they all talked and wondered and said how awful it was that such a terrible thing could have happened in one of the best parts of the city, and was no place safe any longer? Couldn’t the police do something about this dreadful bandit? He had just robbed the Kerrills, for Frey’s sake.

  “Come on,” Elenor said in her ear. “I’ll have our carriage take you home.”

  Tesara let herself be led away, only looking back once, not at the walk where it went along the garden wall, but the other way, where it led to the front of the house, where a young man, once he drew off his red silk handkerchief and uncovered his face, might go quite unremarked upon as he made his way home.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  It was nearing three in the morning when Yvienne fumbled the key into the kitchen door and came in, easing the door open as quietly as she could. She sighed in the fading warmth of the kitchen. It had taken her most of the night to elude her pursuers, and she had to use all of her wiles to evade the dogs. Twice they came so close to her where she hid in plain sight among the crowds of revelers on the Lower Mile that it took all her courage not to run. Finally, she was able to make her way to her sea cave, ditch her boy’s clothes, and hurry into her dress and shawl. The money she wrapped up in oilskin and tucked behind a loose rock far above the tideline, and then headed back up the trail toward home. There was no longer any sign of pursuit by the time she made her way to Kerwater Street.

  She locked the door and hung up the key, and rubbed her aching eyes. She wanted nothing more than to go upstairs, take off her clothes, and go to bed, where she would sleep the day away if she could.

  “Did you make sure you weren’t followed?”

  Yvienne turned and jumped at the same moment. She hadn’t noticed her sister sitting at the work table, a dark shape in the near darkness. Tesara scraped a match against the table and lit a small candle in the dish. The light flared and the darkness receded somewhat. Her sister’s face remained mostly in shadow, with only the side of her face and one eye illuminated. There were dark pools around her eyes and Yvienne knew her eyes were shadowed the same.

  “I think so,” she said. Her voice was raspy and she was very thirsty. She went to the stove and hefted the kettle. To her relief there was water in it, and she found a cup by feel and filled it. The water was smooth and cool and it felt like heaven going down her throat and into her core, a cold, glistening treasure inside her. She sighed in deep relief and slid onto the bench opposite Tesara.

  “You were – magnificent,” Tesara said slowly. “I could not have believed it was you, until I saw your eyes.” A bit of almost humor came into her voice. “And Father’s handkerchief.”

  Yvienne put her hand on her sister’s. Tesara’s hand was warm and she went to draw back her own cold hand, but her sister took hers and began to rub it.

  “It was you at the Kerrills too? The Gentleman Bandit, I mean? And all the other times?”

  Yvienne nodded, and then, because she knew her sister couldn’t see her in the dark, she managed. “Yes.”

  “Were you frightened?”

  “Not really. The first time I didn’t really plan it. But they were more frightened, and it just worked out.”

  “We can’t take it back, can we?” Tesara said. “You and I – we’re really in it now.”

  “We’ve always known we were playing dangerous games,” Yvienne said.

  “Yes,” Tesara said, but she sounded lost in thought. She kept rubbing warmth into Yvienne’s hand. “But this is far too dangerous, Vivi. If you’re caught…”

  “I won’t be,” Yvienne said. She could tell her sister’s expression in the dimness. “Uncle is right. I know how to get in and out, and I only pick the houses on the Crescent that I know have a back way out.”

  “Bosh,” Tesara said, flat. “Everyone’s luck runs out. That’s the first rule of a gambler. You need to stop before you get caught.”

  I can’t stop. The thought hammered at her. I tried. But it was intoxicating to be out at night, in the guise of the Gentleman Bandit, surprising her victims and robbing them senseless. She felt remorse afterwards, especially if it was someone she knew. But in the moment, Yvienne was a predator of the night, and she relished all of it – the stealth, the attack, and the flight into the darkness, down to her sea cave.

  “And what about you?” she snapped back at her sister. “You don’t have to stop cheating them at cards?”

  “At least I won’t be thrown into gaol!” Tesara cried. “Or worse! Hanged!”

  “Shh!” Yvienne hissed at her.

  They were both silent, listening for sounds that they had woken their parents. After a moment Tesara continued, in a whisper.

  “You know you have to end it, Vivi. This is too dangerous. I was the distraction, to be sure, but it was for you to find out evidence against the Guild. Not for this.”

  The accusation hit home. Yvienne had nothing to say. There was a muted chime from the parlor as the mantel clock sounded the hour. Four o’clock. Mathilde would be coming any minute. She could not find them in the kitchen. As one, the girls sighed.

  “Come on,” Tesara said, standing and pulling Yvienne to her feet.

  They made their way upstairs and to bed. They settled in, warming up under the threadbare blanket. In the darkness, Tesara spoke first.

  “Promise me, Vivi. Promise me you’ll stop.”

  Yvienne felt the tears leak from the corner of her eyes. I want to stop, she thought. I need to stop. She opened her mouth to promise her sister, to assure her she was done with the Gentleman Bandit, struggling to voice the words she knew would be a lie. After a moment, Tesara rolled over, turning her back to her sister.

  One last job, Yvienne told herself again. One last one, and then I’ll stop.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  “Where is Tesara?” Alinesse grumbled at breakfast, pouring the coffee.

  “Still abed, Mama,” Yvienne said, wishing she were right beside her.

  It was another rainy morning as Port Saint Frey’s changeable weather took a turn for the worse. Yvienne and her parents sat cozily over breakfast porridge, eggs, ham, bacon, and waffles stuffed with cream and peaches. Yvienne had stumbled downstairs because she knew her parents would roust them out of bed, but as far as she knew, Tesara intended to sleep the day away.

  “Goodness, how late did you girls stay up?” Alinesse asked.

  “I don’t know. Late.”

  The sound of tromping footsteps made them look up, but it wasn’t Tesara who was that heavy-footed. Uncle Samwell grunted something and slouched into
his chair, pouring coffee for himself.

  “What’s your excuse?” Brevart muttered, barely looking up from the Gazette.

  “Your daughter,” Samwell said. “Your daughter has single-handedly put a monkey wrench in the works of the best deal I’ve ever made. Where is she, by the way? Do you know what she has been up to?”

  Icy anticipation gripped Yvienne’s heart.

  “What on earth are you talking about, Sam?” Alinesse said, all irritation.

  “Merciful heavens!” Brevart shouted, sitting back in his chair with his eyebrows straight up into his hairline. He smacked the newspaper with the back of his hand. Even though she had been half-braced for it, Yvienne still felt a jolt.

  “Brevart!” Alinesse exclaimed. “What on earth–”

  “‘The tranquility of the gentle city of Port Saint Frey was rudely broken again last night with another attack on one of the most respected and wealthy trading houses, House Iderci. The guests of the Idercis were cruelly overwhelmed by the same Gentleman Bandit, this time who took one gentleman hostage and forced a young scioness of a not-to-be-named fallen House to gather up purses and deliver them to the masked evildoer. She was forced to perform an act of even more dreadful proportions when she was made to stand as a human shield between the bandit and any would-be defenders.’”

  Brevart looked up at all of them. They stared back.

  Samwell grunted, reaching for a waffle and folding it over, stuffing half of it in his mouth. “Told you,” he said, through a mouthful. “The Colonel told me all about it when the whole thing was over.”

  There was dead silence. And then Brevart pushed back his chair so violently that it fell over and made for the doorway. One after another they followed, Yvienne pausing to pick up his chair, and the entire family trooped out of the dining room, past a startled Mathilde, and thundered up the stairs. They crowded onto the narrow landing. Alinesse rapped sharply on the door.

  “Tesara! Wake up!”

  “Young lady, come out at once!” Brevart said.

  Alinesse kept rapping, and finally the door cracked open, and Tesara peered out. Her braid was disheveled, and her wrap was badly tied. She clutched the material closed at her throat. She met Yvienne’s gaze and Yvienne bit her lip, shrugging with resignation. Her sister would just have to wing it.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  “Did you go to the Idercis’ last night, young lady?!” Alinesse said, her voice rising. Brevart shook the Gazette in her face for good measure.

  “I didn’t want to alarm you,” Tesara said, a note of defensiveness in her voice. “I’m all right, really. It was frightening, but no one was hurt. And Elenor Sansieri made her coachman take me home. Did you know she’s engaged? He’s rather mature. An officer in the navy.”

  “An officer? And what good was he, I wonder?” Brevart snapped. “Officers letting girls being used by bandits as human shields?”

  “Well, he wasn’t exactly in the salon where the robber came in,” Tesara said. She glanced at Uncle Samwell. “However, your friend Colonel Talios was there. He believes in discretion over valor, I expect.”

  Uncle Samwell snorted a laugh. “If you mean he sat tight and handed over his cash, that would be him. But don’t think you’re using that as an excuse to get out of this match, missy.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Tesara said. “Though I think the presence of his mistress and his would-be fiancée might have made him braver, don’t you?”

  There was a pregnant silence. Then Alinesse raised her hand, closed her eyes, and took a breath. “Tesara, get dressed and come downstairs and tell us exactly what happened.”

  She began pushing everyone down the stairs again, with Brevart exclaiming, “Alinesse, what is going on with that girl? I thought she didn’t want to go! She said she wasn’t going.”

  “She sneaked out, Brevart. It’s what girls do,” Alinesse said. Her voice was grim. “Downstairs. Now.”

  “I’ll help Tesara,” Yvienne said. She shouldered through to the door, turned around at her poor, harassed parents and pugnacious uncle, smiled brightly, and closed the door on them. She latched it for good measure and then turned to Tesara. They stared at each other, their unfinished conversation hanging over them. Tesara spoke first with studied nonchalance.

  “Ah, the Gazette. They always come through.” Tesara threw off her wrap and got into her underthings. Yvienne shook out her sister’s day dress and fluffed it up, preparing to put it over Tesara’s head.

  “It was quite a lurid write up,” Yvienne agreed.

  Tesara disappeared inside the dress and popped into view again.

  “Is that why you do it?” she said.

  Yvienne paused, then continued buttoning up her sister’s dress at the back. Yes, she thought. Or rather, no. “It’s complicated,” she said finally.

  “I don’t want to be a nag,” Tesara began.

  “But you are,” Yvienne said, anger giving her words a sharp edge.

  “I’m worried!”

  Yvienne turned her around by the shoulders. “Are you? Or are you just being bossy? No, don’t protest. There’s a difference. We’re both playing dangerous games. What happens when you come up against a better gambler, one who understands you’re counting cards? Don’t you think he’ll cry foul? He will, if the stakes are high enough. And it will be you in gaol, and our family’s reputation will be shredded once more. Oh, the Mederos girls – cheating runs in the family.”

  “I can protect myself,” Tesara gritted.

  “Can you? With what? This fairy story about your ‘powers’?”

  It was cruel, but Yvienne had had enough. I don’t need another mother. If I want to continue being the Gentleman Bandit, I will, and my sister can’t stop me.

  I can’t stop me.

  Tesara turned pale, her blue eyes dark and shadowed. Without a word she pulled herself from her sister’s hands.

  “I don’t know what’s happened to you,” she said. “But you have to end it, Yvienne. This has gone far enough.”

  Downstairs the door knocker sounded and they paused. Mathilde answered the door and they heard an exchange of voices, a clink as two pennies were handed over, then footsteps up the stairs.

  “Miss Tesara,” said Mathilde through the door. “You have another letter.”

  Without a word, Tesara opened the door. Mathilde handed over the letters and looked from one sister to the other, and smiled.

  “Hidden depths. Just like your sister,” Mathilde said, throwing a little look at Yvienne. “Unseen depths.”

  Yvienne felt an uneasy prickle at the back of her neck. Of course, Mathilde was referring to her escapade in the market so many weeks ago. Wasn’t she?

  Mathilde gave them another look, clearly picking up on the troubled air in the room. She let herself out. Tesara tore the seal on the first envelope, scanning the invitation. Her face paled. Yet composed, she set down the letter and opened the next one.

  “Ah, yes. Elenor asked us to tea on Sunday, you and me both. She’s determined to be good to us for old times’ sake.” She made a wry face. “And also to tweak her fiancé’s nose a little bit.”

  I would like to see the Sansieris, Yvienne thought. She had missed their friendship. That was Elenor all over; she was a sweet girl. But that wasn’t as important as what her sister wasn’t telling her.

  “What about the first letter?” she said, keeping her voice even.

  Tesara handed it over. “There are one or two little things you should know,” she began, as Yvienne read with disbelieving eyes.

  Guildmaster Herald Trune requests your presence at a salon given at House Fortune, at 114 High Crescent, beginning at the tenth hour of the clock on St Frey’s Day, this week. A light repast and dancing; tables for the gamesters. Huzzah for the revels to come!

  “Guildmaster Trune lives at our old address?” Yvienne said. Red gathered behind her eyes.

  “Ah. Yes, and–”

  “You knew and you didn’t see fit to tell me
?”

  There was a pause. Tesara raised her chin. “No. It was none of your concern.”

  “You little fool,” Yvienne said, her voice shaking, even as she was ashamed of herself. Indeed, Tesara’s eyes flashed hurt and anger.

  “Are you going to be insufferable or do you want to understand what’s going on?” Tesara snapped.

  The words penetrated Yvienne’s sense of rage and futility, and she looked at her sister. “Tell me.”

  Tesara did.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  I am frightened of my sister.

  Tesara had always admired Yvienne, had always envied her position as family favorite even as she resented it. She had feared her sister finding out she sank the fleet, until it was clear that Yvienne had no intention of believing her. This new, hard Yvienne was different. Tesara was frightened of her, almost as much as she had been frightened for her, when she found out her sister was the Bandit.

  It had been truly frightening to see Yvienne’s reaction when Tesara told her about impersonating a scullery maid at Trune’s, fleeing, and then being recognized by Trune at the Scarlantis. She had grown quiet and pale, but the expression behind her eyes was one of hard, black ice.

  That was three days ago. Yvienne had gone about her business as usual, leaving early in the morning to go to the TreMondis’, and coming home for a late supper. When she came home, she sat with Mother and Father until bedtime, reading and conversing companionably, and then going to bed.

  There were no more reports of the Gentleman Bandit in the Gazette.

  To their mother and father, Yvienne was exactly the same, if only a bit quieter than usual. Uncle Samwell never noticed a thing, of course, but to Tesara’s surprise, she sometimes caught Mathilde looking at Yvienne with a serious expression, far different from her usual sunny outlook. Under the pretext of helping clear the dinner table, Tesara followed Mathilde into the kitchen and stacked the dishes next to the sink.