The Artisan and the Duke

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The Artisan and the Duke Page 6

by Abigail Agar

“Well, someone had to step in and keep the lady safe,” Fredrick said as he drew himself up straight.

  The Duke nodded. “And a noble thing it was for you to offer, but I am here now, so I can help Miss Kelley if she chooses to go out.”

  “Won’t you be a bit recognizable? Half the guild knows who you are,” Jules reminded the man.

  Gregory nodded, “I am actually counting on that a bit, to be honest. Besides, my brother is going to be otherwise engaged momentarily.” The Duke looked over at his brother, “Is not your contact coming to see you today?”

  “True,” Fredrick said as he frowned. “I would much rather adventure with Miss Kelley than deal with Archibald, I assure you.” There was a deep laugh from the Duke as he agreed, “I do not blame you one bit, Brother of mine.”

  Chapter 4

  Jules took the simple dress that Sherry brought to her. “Going adventuring? Don’t worry, Miss; I won’t say a word. I rather like all the intrigue,” Sherry confided with a grin.

  “You must love it here then,” Jules said with a chuckle.

  Sherry nodded and replied, “I really do.”

  Once Jules was ready, she pulled a bonnet over her hair and gave Sherry a smile. Her mother would have loved to see this, Jules mused to herself as she took in her reflection. She was certain that this very outfit was the future that her mother had always envisioned for her oldest daughter.

  “Wish us luck,” Jules said with a brave smile as she headed towards the door of the bedroom.

  Sherry called out from behind her, “Good luck, Miss.”

  Downstairs, Jules was met by the Duke at the bottom of the stairs. “My mother is out for tea with one of her dear friends, so we shall have easy access in and out of the house. The servants who might give us away, are usually at the far end of the house at this time of day,” the Duke said with a smile. He offered Jules his arm and asked, “Shall we, My Lady?”

  “Yes, I think we shall,” Jules replied. She laid her hand on the Duke’s forearm and let the man escort her towards the front door.

  The man’s hair was pulled back with a simple bit of tattered ribbon, and his white shirt was a bit dirty from previous adventures. It gave him a look of authenticity.

  Of course, Jules had never seen a man on the streets of London who looked as beautiful as the Duke, and one look at his cheekbones would probably give him away as one of the upper crust.

  It took only a bit of time before they were out on the street and swiftly away from the shining side of the elite. The large houses faded away, morphing into slum buildings and squalor. Jules took a deep breath of the rank air that filled the streets at this hour. The pots were being emptied, and the stench rose up off the streets.

  Gregory fetched a handkerchief out of his vest pocket and offered it to the dark-haired young woman. Jules took it swiftly with a mumbled, “Thank you.” Gregory fetched another for himself, and they proceeded toward Jules’ old neighbourhood where the fire had taken place.

  As they walked, Jules asked, “What did your friend the barrister have to say?”

  “He was most intrigued and is looking into it forthrightly,” Gregory said. “I’m sure that he will find a way to sort it out.”

  Jules relaxed a bit knowing that her guildmates now had someone fighting for them even if she could not.

  “Jules?” An incredulous voice asked from across the street.

  They turned to see a slender youth headed toward them. Jules smiled. “David,” she said with relief. “I thought for sure that you had been captured.”

  “Devil – like me?” David scoffed. “I have to say that I’m a bit surprised to see you here, especially without your kit.”

  Jules glanced at the Duke who was eyeing them curiously. “Oh, I beg your pardon, this is my friend David Larkin. We came up the ranks together during apprenticeship,” Jules explained to the man. “David, this is …” Jules paused not sure if she should drop the disguise. “This is Gregory Townsend. He’s my betrothed.”

  David’s mouth fell open. “You don’t say? I never thought in my wildest dreams that you’d be settling down for a manger.” David laughed. “Well, I’ll be a mule.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Gregory said as he extended his hand to David.

  David, in turn, grasped Gregory’s hand eagerly in a rigorous shake while the young man exclaimed, “Pleasure is all mine.”

  “I apologize for the rush, but we were just on our way to look at a prospective house,” Gregory said sadly.

  David waved off the man’s concern. “Don’t let me hold up your wedded bliss. I was just on my way to see a man about a job. All the best to both of you,” he said with a grin and a wave.

  Gregory watched the young man dash away. “So, he knew you were a girl?” There was a question in Gregory’s eyes that he held back, but Jules saw it all the same.

  “We’ve known each other since we were children. Of course, he knew I was a girl. He apprenticed with my father, and my father swore him to secrecy. We’ve been good friends for years, and that’s simply all there is to it,” Jules said with a shrug.

  Gregory nodded and said, “Well, we had better start making enquiries before people start buying us wedding gifts.”

  Jules chuckled and agreed, “Right. Carrying around all that linen could be quite tiresome.” She nodded towards the next street over. “I know a lady who worked at the factory. She was not there when the fire started, but she had gotten off earlier in the day. She might be able to tell us something.”

  Gregory had to agree that it was a good bet. “Then let us go see her,” he said, and they swiftly set off towards the woman’s house.

  Like most of the other houses in the area, it was more house in name than reality. Gregory wondered if there was a landlord behind this that could be brought to justice over the conditions as Jules knocked on the door.

  The door swung open, and a redheaded woman stared at them for a moment. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?” There was a thick Irish accent in the woman’s words.

  “Margaret, it’s me. Jules,” Jules said with a grin.

  Recognition dawned on the woman’s face as she brought her hands up to clap against her cheeks. “Didnae know you a bit. You look every inch the lass now. Your mother must be swelling in her heart at the sight of ye,” Margaret exclaimed.

  Jules laughed. “She is,” Jules agreed. “We actually were hoping we could talk to you about the fire.” Margaret gave Gregory a suspicious glance. Jules intervened, “Forgive me for my rudeness. This is Gregory Townsend, my betrothed.”

  “You don’t say?” Margaret exclaimed as she shook her head. “Come in; come in.” The woman waved them into her house.

  Gregory and Jules were guided over to sit on a very well-worn seat just big enough for the two of them. Margaret clasped her hands together in front of her with a pleased look on her face. Jules tried again, “Margaret, do you remember anything odd about the shift before the fire broke out?”

  The woman took a deep breath. “I’ve thought about that a lot lately. I keep wondering if something happened to Marcus,” she said sadly. “He was a horrible man most of the time, but he gave us work.”

  “When was the last time you saw him? The boys and I were discussing this as well the other day,” Jules said thoughtfully. “No one could remember seeing him past the morning before the fire.”

  Margaret nodded, “Aye, I saw him about lunchtime. He was in a state, though.”

  “A state?” Gregory asked for clarification.

  Margaret repeated, “Yes, quite a state. He was sick I believe. He looked awful.”

  “Do you know if he left?” Jules asked feeling certain that something was missing, and if she could just grasp it then perhaps everything else would come into focus.

  There was a pause as Margaret thought. Finally, she nodded slowly, “I do think he did. I saw him by the back entrance a little before the end of the shift. I never did see him at shift change. That’s normally when he leaves for the night.


  “So, he left early,” Gregory said quietly.

  Jules added, “And he was sick or distraught.”

  “I do wish the law would look into it, but they don’t care about those children who died. They could burn this whole section of the city down, and no one would blink an eye,” Margaret seethed. “I’m sorry, lass. I just keep thinking about the wee ones and their mums. The heartache of losing a little one too soon is such that it would be a mercy to cut out their hearts altogether.”

  Jules reached over and gave Margaret’s hand a squeeze. Jules remembered when Margaret’s own baby had died. The woman had been so consumed with grief that Jules’ mother had brought her food and sat with Margaret to ensure that she ate it.

  Gregory said softly, “I hate to press, but I think we should go. We have much to do yet.”

  “Oh my, yes,” Margaret agreed, which surprised Jules until the woman continued enthusiastically, “setting up a household takes a good bit of planning.”

  Jules forced a smile. “Yes, we’ve been a bit overwhelmed,” Jules said far more truthfully than she would ever admit to.

  “If you need anything, just give me a yell,” Margaret said warmly. “It’s the least I can do.”

  ***

  “Let’s go check the lots around the factory,” Jules said softly once they were out on the street. “If something were wrong with the man, he might not have made it far. With all the commotion, his body could still be there.”

  Gregory grimaced, “I will leave this part out when I am selecting memories of our courtship to tell our children.”

  “You act as if you already have me at this imaginary altar of yours.” Jules laughed. “You know there are consequences for marrying a commoner if your peers so choose.”

  Gregory shrugged as they made their way around the burned edges of the lot where the factory had stood. Gregory looked over at Jules. She had been in that rubble, dragging bodies out. Again, he felt a deep admiration build for the young woman. He knew a lot of men who would not have dared to do that.

  “Look,” Jules said as she pointed to the ground. There was a pocket watch there. She picked it up. “It’s got Marcus’s initials on it.”

  Gregory said, “So he made it out of the factory at least.”

  “Yes, but where did he end up?” Jules looked around as she held the pocket watch in her hand. “There’s really only one way to get out of the lot if you picture where the factory walls would have been,” Jules said thoughtfully.

  Gregory followed the young woman toward a gate in the neighbouring lot’s wooden fence. The door came open easily enough as Gregory pushed it inward.

  Gregory stepped through first and looked around the empty yard. The house was falling down. A foul smell hit Gregory’s nose. “I think we found Marcus,” Gregory said as he covered up his nose with his sleeve.

  “Oh no,” Jules groaned and covered her nose with the handkerchief Gregory had given her earlier. “He’s almost unrecognizable.”

  Gregory nodded as he walked around the body of the wayward factory owner. “Looks like there’s a piercing wound in his chest and side,” he said through the fabric of his shirt.”

  “I don’t know how you can even tell,” Jules said in admiration. Marcus’ body was decaying, and Jules could barely make out the man’s features.

  Gregory shook his head and said, “I had to take fencing in youth. The wound of a sword is a very distinctive thing. The wounds are too wide for a knife.”

  “So, someone with a sword killed him.” Jules shook her head. “Why, though?”

  Gregory led Jules back out of the lot and shut the door. “I’ll tip someone off to come find the body. I want to distance us from this,” he said logically. They made their way quickly across town on foot. The light was dimming a bit by the time they made it back. Sherry let them inside and ushered them upstairs.

  While Jules changed, she thought of Marcus and his fate. Once she was ready for dinner, Jules came downstairs. She was met at the bottom of the stairs by the Duke and his brother. “Come,” the Duke said, and Jules followed the two men towards the drawing room.

  The room was filled with bookshelves, a large desk, a few chairs, lots of oil lamps, and family memorabilia. Jules liked it the moment she saw it. It was the closest to a normal room she had seen thus far in the large home. “What is the urgency?” Jules asked as she took a seat in one of the cushioned chairs.

  Fredrick cleared his throat. “Well, my brother told me about your adventures, and now I get to tell you what I learned,” he said with a grin. It was the most enthusiasm Gregory has seen from his brother since the man had returned from the war.

  Fredrick continued, “Archibald said the insurance company was a precision outfit. However, he did make mention that a few days before the fire they had gotten a call stating that the owner of the factory wanted to cancel the protection of the property. That was the last they had heard until they read about the fire in the papers.”

  “So, that’s why the watermen and wagons never came,” Jules said. Outrage swelled up in Jules’ chest. “He cancelled the order of protection. Do you think that Marcus intended on burning down his property?”

  Gregory frowned and said, “Most people who burn their properties purposefully are hoping to get something out of it. He got nothing out of it. It is a good plan, and a businessman would have a good financially sound plan.”

  “Gregory’s right,” Fredrick said with a sigh. “The fact remains that someone did call and cancel that order ensuring that when the fire was set there would be little to no help coming.”

  Jules balled her fists up and hit them against her legs. “That piece of scum,” she growled. “There were children in that building.”

  Fredrick hung his head. “I know. I read about it in the paper. Gregory told me that you were there, Miss Kelley. I cannot express my compassion for that.”

  “Lord St Claire, you need not worry. I will be fine. I just want to know why those people had to die,” Jules said, softly.

  Gregory looked at them sadly. “We are going to find out,” he assured them both. “And we are going to make sure that things do not go well for them.”

  “Here, here,” Fredrick enthused.

  Jules gave the Duke a smile that the man returned.

  ***

  “My dear, I do hope you are enjoying the London season. Have you been to any parties?” Lady St Claire asked Jules at the dinner table.

  Jules said, “I have never–”

  Gregory interrupted, “She’s never really been to the London season.”

  “That’s right,” Fredrick chimed in. “Yes, she was just telling me this afternoon about how her father worked his way up in the colonies.”

  Jules stared at Fredrick who gave her a wink. Lady St Claire nodded eagerly, “Really? I haven’t heard much of her backstory aside from her mother briefly telling me about her studying through an apprenticeship.”

  The Duke agreed, “Yes, she did. She even got promoted through the ranks if I’m not mistaken?” Gregory looked over at Jules for confirmation.

  Jules laughed. “Yes. When I finally stopped working in the trade, I had made it to Junior Artisan.”

  “That’s fascinating,” Lady St Claire said with feeling. “Your father was a mason as well, child?”

  Gregory nodded, and Jules said, “Yes, he was.”

  Fredrick smiled and added, “He was a master of his trade from what I have heard.”

  Lady St Claire gave Jules an approving look. “Your mother seemed a lovely woman. Was she a mason as well?”

  “No,” Jules said with a chuckle. “My mother has always been a seamstress.”

  Lady St Claire thought for a moment. “Someone is going to have to vouch for her. Perhaps you can get Dowager Stewart to sponsor her,” the woman said simply.

  “So, you aren’t buying the wealthy merchant routine?” Fredrick asked, not the least bit put out.

  Lady St Claire smiled at her son. “I h
ave travelled this world a long time, Fred. You will notice that I do not stumble over the bumps anymore,” Lady St Claire said with a smile.

  Jules frowned. “What does sponsor mean?” She looked over at the Duke.

  Gregory cleared his throat. “It’s just a way of verifying your identity. So, that you are more easily accepted into society,” Gregory explained.

  “Wait, so are we going to lie about who I am?” Jules asked incredulously.

  Lady St Claire said logically, “If Fred had been right, and you had been from the colonies, then it would be a fine story. All we really need is for someone else to say that you are indeed the daughter of a once-wealthy merchant who is now marrying Gregory to pay off her debts. That is sort of what is happening, isn’t it?”

 

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