by Morris, Tee
As Eliza slid a tiny pistol into her garter belt, she said, “As am I.”
“Expecting trouble from this gent then?”
“Not from him,” Eliza smiled, “but I have found in the life I live that it always pays to prepare for the worst—at the very least a street thug might appear.”
“I think you are going to the wrong end of town for that, miss.” Alice helped her step into her dress and began the task of doing up all its tiny pearl buttons.
“Such high society is not my usual environment,” Eliza reminded her. “My parents are still pulling pints at their hotel—and honestly I wish I was back there many times.”
Alice pressed her lips together—Eliza had told her this often enough. “You are lucky, miss—to know where your folks are.” Her hands fumbled on the buttons, and Eliza felt like a fool. She had rescued the younger woman from the poorhouse where she had been placed after her own parents had abandoned her. Alice’s accident had seemed to be a stroke from a cruel god. Eliza had taken it upon herself to remedy that.
So she turned about and squeezed Alice’s hands. “Once the Ministry Seven have finished their dinners and left, take the night off.” She slipped a coin into the maid’s hands. “And how about you take Billy somewhere grand. It’s a new age after all, Alice.”
The younger woman’s smile was broad and wicked. “That it is, miss.” With a hasty bow she took her leave.
Eliza looked into the mirror at what they had created. She was still young, but not as she had been when last Douglas had taken her to dinner. The midnight blue dress she had picked with care—he had always admired the colour on her. She still recalled how he had whispered that it made her eyes blue pools that could drown a man.
Back then, such compliments had made her blush and stammer. She wondered how she would react should he say the same tonight. In New Zealand there had been such sweetness to their courtship, but back then she had been quite a different person. Still a little reckless, but in the way of a young woman not yet as familiar with black powder and explosions.
Looking directly into her own eyes she spoke softly, “Bloody fool!” Then she smiled. Douglas might have surprised her with his invitation to dinner, but she had a surprise waiting for him in turn. It simply would not do to dare being alone with the paragon of New Zealand manliness. No, not indeed.
Then, snatching up her tiny jewelled purse, she made for the door.
The Bird’s Eye View was quite the newest way to see London—and though she didn’t say it, Eliza was impressed that Douglas had managed to get a booking at such short notice. Four small airships bobbed in their moorings, quiet and awaiting passengers. These were pleasure craft meant for local journeys, with room enough for only twenty or so people in the accommodations beneath.
Eliza jumped down out of the carriage and stared up at them. The trepidation growing in her chest was not their fault, but they did give her something to focus on.
“Quite a sight, aren’t they?”
She spun around and glared at Douglas. “Have your customs changed so much that you enjoy frightening women?”
He tipped his hat to her. “As if anything so minor as my voice would scare the redoubtable Miss Eliza D. Braun.”
She was just about to reply when she heard her name called from a little distance. At the sound of Ihita’s greeting Douglas’ eyes widened.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Eliza whispered. “Since you said it was a dinner between friends I thought to invite a couple of mine.” It was quite insulting, but then she felt in need of some backup.
Ihita, wearing a breathtaking tangerine sari accented with gold threads and what appeared to be tiny medallions, practically skipped up to them. The perfect gentleman, Douglas regained his balance quickly.
“Ah yes,” he smiled. “I recall you were with Eliza buying sandwiches. Any friend of hers is indeed a welcome addition to our party.”
“A party is it?” Agent Brandon Hill appeared on the other side, and Eliza couldn’t help the small smile of triumph sketching itself on her lips.
The second time Douglas did not look surprised, but Ihita’s cheeks flushed red and her gaze shot to Eliza. Brandon was dressed in an exquisitely tailored evening suit, his carriage making many of the ladies turn and take notice. The Inverness overcoat was a very nice touch, Eliza found, and made the eccentric agent look exceptionally dashing.
Eliza winked at her friend, and hoped she recalled that she’d promised not to interfere. As she made another round of introductions between the men, Eliza congratulated herself. In one step she had taken care of one of Ihita’s problems and one of her own. Her friend pined after the curious charms of Agent Hill, and Eliza was no longer alone with a man whose charms she knew very well.
“We shall make quite a jolly group,” Douglas’ recovery was almost superhuman. No one looking on him would ever guess that he had not planned the whole thing.
“Only four is it, Eliza?” Brandon whispered to her. “You said it would be a party when we spoke this afternoon.” His eyes were pretending to be stern, but twinkled with a barely withheld enjoyment. Agent Hill was much like her—he enjoyed the rush and the excitement of fieldwork. Yet he’d been stuck in London for the last month going as quietly mad as she was in the Archives. Inviting him along tonight had served multiple purposes, but it had also been a kindness.
“Maybe my mathematical skills aren’t all that,” she murmured back. “But I think the company will make up for it.” In response he glanced over at Ihita. She did look lovely tonight. Eliza began to reconsider her earlier judgement. Maybe Brandon wasn’t as blind as she’d said, because when he turned and looked at Ihita no one could mistake the slight lifting of his lips. He knew full well how beautiful and charming Miss Ihita Pujari was. It had not escaped his notice.
In the midst of all these strange disappearances and confusing feelings, Eliza was glad that someone was moving towards happiness.
“Indeed.” He tipped his hat, and walked over to join the conversation between Douglas and Ihita. They really did make a striking couple.
The four of them set off towards the gangway. Ihita took Brandon’s offered arm, and Eliza did the same with Douglas.
Her fellow New Zealander smiled wickedly. “I recall how you used to watch the airships from your father’s house. You used to say you would ride one when you were older.”
“I said a lot of things back then—I was an exceedingly foolish girl.”
“And the most beautiful in two hemispheres.” Luckily he did not mention that he had said the same thing when he’d proposed.
Brandon and Ihita were polite enough to drop back a little.
“Oh, Douglas,” Eliza whispered. “You are exaggerating. You thought my sister Anna was far prettier than I.”
“Nonsense!” He looked positively outraged. “She might be considered the most lovely girl in Auckland by many, but I never held with it myself.”
“I should very much like to meet your family,” Brandon chimed in. “The stories they could tell of the young Eliza Braun? It would be most . . . educational.”
“Are they all like you?” Ihita squeezed her arm.
Every one of them laughed, and she felt the sting of it. At the mention of the family she had so rashly lost, Eliza felt a pierce of grief. Letters were not nearly enough.
“Mr. Hill, I could tell you plenty of stories!” Douglas began, but before he could elaborate, Eliza tugged on his arm.
“Come along—I am ravenous!”
All four of them trouped up to the small craft with the name BIRD’S EYE VIEW written on the keel in flowing golden letters. The captain at the prow tipped his hat to them as they entered, and looked ready to leap to service immediately. Still they were civilised beings, and took their time entering this luxurious dining establishment.
Thick red velvet drapes framed the large windows while jewel-coloured Turkish rugs spread over the teak floor. Over each of the white-draped tables gleamed a crystal chandeli
er lit with the newest sealed electric tubes.
“Delightful!” Ihita breathed, and from the child of a raja—even one that had run away to join the Ministry—that had to mean something. Douglas went over to the imperious-looking maitre’d and had a whispered conversation.
When he strode back to the other three, there was the hint of a smile in the corners of his lips. “They’re able to accommodate our new party, but unfortunately only at two smaller tables.”
Check and mate, Eliza, his gaze told her.
She crooked her eyebrow at him, but would not kick up a fuss. Instead she turned to Ihita and Brandon. “I hope you don’t mind.”
The look Hill shot her friend made Eliza suspicious that perhaps he was starting to get the point of the evening. “I am sure Miss Pujari and I can find many topics of conversation.” He held out his arm and gestured towards the table that a waiter was indicating.
Douglas and Eliza were taken to a nearby table, close enough so that they were within polite eyesight of the others, but not so close that they would easily overhear each other’s conversation.
As the waiter placed the pure white linen napkins on their laps and handed them the menus, the ropes were released and the Bird’s Eye View slid up into the sky. The agent felt the familiar dip of her stomach and the slight racing of her heart. She loved air travel—and found it the closest thing to taking wing herself.
They were seated near one of the tall windows and for a few minutes they were lost in the transformation. The distance stilled London’s noise, and smoothed away the chaos of the great city. Even the Thames was beautiful from up here; going from unforgiving purveyor of sewerage and trade to a glistening silver ribbon. She had seen it before many times, but each was like the first. The lights twinkled and the city became a fairytale place. Eliza and Douglas watched as London rolled out beneath them. If either of them had been a poet, perhaps they would have been able to create words to match the moment.
“Quite a grand sight,” Douglas finally murmured, his eyes still on Eliza.
“The grandest the Empire has to offer.” If Wellington had been there she definitely would not have said that. She preferred him believing she was totally miserable in both her new city and her new position in the Ministry. It was far more fun that way.
The waiter gave a demure cough, and they took the very subtle hint. It was time to order. Douglas examined the menu, before offering, “The menu by necessity, is limited—but quite marvellous. We had the fish here last week, and I would highly recommend it.”
“What? The son of New Zealand’s leading suffragist trying to tell a perfectly capable woman what to order?”
“Oh tosh,” Douglas leaned towards her across the tiny table. “Mother would never forgive me if I ignored all my upbringing and didn’t at least give you my opinion. I confess I believe civilisation would fall if we had to give up proper behaviour. You may have the vote back home, Eliza, but you are still a lady.”
She pressed her lips together at that. Across from them, Brandon and Ihita were engaged in animated conversation, laughing, with their eyes fixed on each other. Eliza recognised that look and the accompanying feelings. It felt so long ago.
In the awkward silence, Eliza and Douglas ordered lobster bisque to be followed by the roast beef, and she was grateful the entree arrived so quickly. It was served in fine porcelain bowls and smelt delicious. As she dipped in her soupspoon, from back to front as she’d been taught by Kate, she wondered how many details about that last dreadful incident in New Zealand the suffragist had imparted to her son.
Eliza enjoyed the soup, which was perfectly prepared and beautifully seasoned; and as she took her time with the first course, she examined Douglas closely, covertly. Time had not really changed him, and that made her smile. She wondered if she looked any different to him.
“I was in the Bull and Bear shortly before we departed.” His sudden revelation caught her by surprise and she dropped her spoon into her plate with a clatter. Douglas slid an envelope across the table. “I nearly forgot about it, truth be told, but your mother gave me this since she was somehow positive we would run into each other.”
Inside was a picture of her family: Mum, Dad, Grace, Gerald, and Nora. The only people missing from it were Herbert, still locked away in the asylum, Anna who was happily married and living in Napier, and herself. Eliza swallowed hard. Though there were regular messages from her parents, and even the odd photograph, this was a new one. Nora, only four when she had been cast out of New Zealand, looked so grown-up. Would she remember her sister Eliza?
“Thank you, Douglas.” Eliza, swallowing against the tightness in her throat, tucked the photograph into her purse. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you took the time for that.”
Finishing his soup, he dabbed at his mouth. “I go in there quite often actually. It is still the best pub in Auckland after all. Your father keeps a well-ordered establishment. In fact he’s talking about getting one of those McTighe bars in, and buying another place further south . . . maybe in Christchurch.”
“Oh yes, he says Auckland is getting too big for him—but I don’t think he will ever do it.” Eliza smiled. “Unlike myself, my father really doesn’t like change.”
Douglas leaned back and the waiter cleared the soup course. “Well, it’s a good thing that you do. Otherwise this whole escapade would be quite unbearable.” He waved his hands to include the airship, the food, and all of London. “And the movement would have lost one of its greatest champions.”
It was quite a statement, but one Eliza knew was not entirely true. “Champion? Come now, most of the English suffragists can’t stand me, and most of the New Zealand ones never even knew what I did to help your mother.”
Douglas’ eyes met hers. “But she does, and Mum believes you can help find these women, and who is behind these abductions.”
“Yet she must keep her distance as my own reputation within the ranks of the London suffragists precedes me.” Eliza folded her hands on her lap. “I understand.”
They paused their conversation while the waiter refilled their crystal glasses with good Spanish wine, and served them roast beef and potatoes. Eliza could detect hints of rosemary in the sauce, but at that moment the food did not have her attention.
Douglas didn’t notice, too busy looking uncomfortable, but eventually he met her gaze. “That is the nature of your personality, isn’t it, Eliza? We both know that you make people uneasy. You enjoy it, in fact.” He took a sip of his wine and waited with one raised eyebrow for her reply.
Her thoughts darted once again to Wellington. “Maybe. But by doing that, sometimes it moves things along. Poke someone enough and they reveal truths they prefer were hidden.”
Douglas gave a slight chuckle, and nodded. “No, my sweet Eliza, you have not changed that much after all, now have you?”
A shudder passed through her when he called her “my sweet Eliza,” and she could feel her cheeks burn at his words. No, I haven’t changed that much, but I miss home. I miss it so, she thought in earnest.
Eliza looked at where his hand rested. It was so close. She felt her fingertips itch.
“So, what can you tell me about your investigation?” he asked suddenly.
The itch subsided. Taking up the glass of wine in the hand wanting to feel Douglas’ own, she leaned forward and asked, “Do you know a person called Dorothy Bassnight? Or Diamond Dottie?”
Douglas frowned. “No, I think I would remember someone with such a dramatic name.”
“Well, if she didn’t tell you her proper name, you probably remember seeing her. As tall as a man, and excessively dressed even at a meeting—silks, furs, and enough jewellery to sink a ship?”
Her former lover was not so much of a dunce that he missed such a brilliant creature among all the deliberately dowdy suffragists. “Oh yes, her! Quite the strapping woman. She could probably give even me a good go in the ring. Do you think she has something to do with this whole mess?”
Eliza finished her wine, and then placed her silverware on the empty plate that had held her very excellent dinner. The waiter with his eagle eye immediately cleared away her plate. “Well, she is one of the most powerful women in the city. She runs a huge gang of female thieves and thugs known as the Elephants. They in turn are part of an even wider criminal organisation that takes in all of London. A very strange woman to be attending one of these movement meetings, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Perhaps she is interested in having a say too,” Douglas offered.
“More like scoping out the territory. At the very least she could be sizing up the ladies there as marks for robbery—at the worst she could be involved in something that the larger gang has planned.”
“This is delightful, Eliza.” Finally Ihita found her voice. She leaned over and spoke slightly louder than was polite. “Thank you so much for inviting me . . .” She cleared her throat. “I mean . . . us.”
“Don’t mention it,” Eliza replied. “Excellent food is only improved by excellent company.” It was something she’d heard Kate say often. Douglas grinned a little at that.
At least someone was having a good time. Apart from their surroundings, Eliza felt as though she’d been balanced on a knife’s edge throughout dinner.
Douglas raised his hand slightly, and the waiter brought over the dessert—a trembling plate of blancmange. It looked both sinful and erotic to Eliza, and she managed not to giggle. This was, after all, serious business.
“So you’ll question this delightfully named Diamond Dottie?” He leaned closer to her over the table, his smile a bit rakish. “Perhaps enquire about some fashion tips?”
For a second they were both back in New Zealand, trading little jibes. She stuck out her tongue at him—a reflex gesture that hearkened back to her childhood. She swallowed after doing it, and felt herself go red again. “I don’t think that I will be taking advice from Miss Diamond. Her tastes are far more extravagant than my own—and besides, she is not someone you just go up to and question. She tends to have her own bodyguards about.”
