“Do I really remember when I have it? No. It’s just memorized. It would have to be. It isn’t a reminder. It’s a record to be studied.”
“But Byron—”
“I wish I could remember you. Truly remember you. For now, we need to keep you safe.”
“I don’t know if that’s possible.”
He paused for a moment and opened the crumpled piece of paper the invitation was scrawled on. Then he moved over to her.
“That’s why I’ve decided that you need to leave London.”
She stared up at him. “What?!”
“You heard me.”
“No, Byron. We are going together. I’m not letting you go by yourself.”
“Well, you are going to have to. It’s far too dangerous. Do you have anywhere you can stay outside of London?”
“Yes, but I’m not going to leave.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Byron, I can’t let you go alone.”
“And I can’t let you come with me.”
“Yes, you can. You have in the past.”
“But this is now. I don’t know what kind of idiot I’ve been before, but this time I’m not letting you get hurt.” He threw the paper towards the fire and turned towards the door.
“Byron, I haven’t gotten hurt before. Please,” she pleaded. He paused at the door and looked back at her.
“And you won’t get hurt this time either. Not if I have anything to say about it.” He opened the door and left the parlor, the door closing behind him. She heard him and Landon speaking in the hall. That meant he was telling Landon the circumstances. He would tell her uncle. Soon enough she would be on a train out to Yorkshire and to safety.
Safety. Safety meant she couldn’t do anything. Safety meant being stuck in her uncle’s house until she got married off to someone. Safety meant playing by society’s rules. Safety meant believing lies. She rushed to the fireplace and found that the paper had landed very near an ember, but not quite in the fire. She used a poker to pull it further from the flames and then picked it up and smoothed it out.
You are cordially invited to a meeting of the Order of Circe. It will be held in number 6 on Vale Street in South Kensington starting at nine o’clock PM. Do be prompt.
Beneath it the symbol from Byron’s files appeared, scrawled in red ink. At least, she hoped it was ink. She grimaced and folded the paper back up. She knew the location. Now all she needed to do was get there without anyone knowing. Time for a plan. She looked at the clock. Five o’clock. Four hours to figure something out. She heard footsteps at the door and moved to sit down, hiding the paper in the folds of her skirt. Landon came in, followed by Byron.
“Mr. Constantine informed me of the danger. I believe he is right in suggesting that you leave London.”
Mira hesitated. She still needed to put up some sort of resistance even if she knew it wouldn’t get her anywhere.
“And I disagree. I need to come with.”
“Goodness gracious. Has she always been this stubborn?” Byron looked at Landon. He nodded.
“She takes after her mother.”
Byron came over and took her hands in his. “You’re taking the seven o’clock train to Yorkshire and that is that.”
“You’re certain?” She measured her words carefully and pulled her hands away. He nodded.
“I’ll go pack.” She snatched the paper from her skirts and stood.
“I’ll send a telegram as soon as I get this all sorted out. I promise. We’ll arrange for the ticket.”
She hesitated at the door, searching his face. The trust had returned to his eyes. Unfortunately, there was no reason for him to trust her now. She was going with him.
He just didn’t know it yet.
Once upstairs, Mira took a suitcase and placed it on her bed. Opening it, she looked around the room. Nero jumped inside of it and meowed.
“You’re not coming with me, kitty. I’ll just say that you don’t really like trains and that you’re staying here.” She picked him up and placed him on one of her pillows. He jumped back into the suitcase.
“Alright, you can stay there for now.” She looked through what remained of her wardrobe. None of it would work. She needed something lighter. Something easier to move in. Perhaps her riding trousers? No. In broad daylight she would look ridiculous.
She bit her lip and grinned. If Byron could plan disguises, so could she. Mira tiptoed down the stairs to Walker’s room.
She opened her twin’s door to be greeted by the smell of dust and memories. She turned to his closet to look through the clothes he left behind. A pair of sturdy trousers, a shirt, vest, jacket, hat, pocket watch, socks, and shoes. Everything she needed. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind her borrowing them. She could ask forgiveness later. She took several of each article of clothing and brought them back into her room to try them on. She needed to ensure that they fit before she packed them.
She laid each piece on the bed and looked them over. Her brother had quite the fashion sense. She locked the door and smiled to herself as she tried on each article of clothing. The trousers were a bit long and needed to be hemmed, but otherwise they fit fine. The shirt could be tucked into the trousers to hide the length. The vest was a bit snug, but it was nothing like a corset. The jacket needed to be hemmed at the cuffs but fit around her shoulders nicely. The shoes didn’t fit her feet at all, being far too large. But how could she adjust that? Instead, she found the most masculine pair of shoes that she owned and tried them on with the outfit. Adequate. She pulled her hair up into a tight bun and put the hat on. Passable. She couldn’t hide her facial features, but that wasn’t exactly the point. From a distance she looked like a man.
She quickly changed into her own clothes and packed most of Walker’s clothes into the suitcase, grateful that the top hat was collapsible. Then she set to work hemming the trousers and the jacket. It didn’t take long, and they soon joined the rest of the outfit in the suitcase. She closed it, locked it, and sat on the bed, feeling incredibly pleased with herself. She looked at the clock. Quarter to six. Forty-five minutes. The next course of action was to ensure that she survived the night.
She went to her writing desk and pulled out several fresh sheets of paper. Every little detail of the case poured out of her pen. She made a timeline. She mentioned every name connected with the case. She outlined the motives, the events, the clues. Every address that could be of any relevant importance. She made it as clear and succinct as she possibly could. Then she took her sketchbook and tore out the drawings of everyone involved and placed them with the papers. She then worked on two new drawings. One of The Shadow and the other of the man she met in the park. She added them to the stack. Once she felt certain she included everything, she placed the stack of papers into the largest envelope she had, addressed it to Scotland Yard, and stamped it. That way, even if something did happen to her or Byron, the case would still be solved, and perhaps the police would still catch the perpetrators.
She looked up at the clock. Six-fifteen. She would have to leave the house by six-thirty to catch the train. There was only one thing left to do. She tiptoed down the stairs to her uncle’s room and listened. She heard three distinct male voices coming from her uncle’s study below. She hesitated and then creaked open the door to Cyrus’ room and stepped over the threshold. The floor squeaked beneath her, and she prayed that no one heard. She went to his bedside dresser and opened it, taking out a small box from inside and opening it. The dwindling light from the window glistened off the metal barrel of a pistol. She wrapped her fingers around the carved handle and lifted it out of its velvet enclosure.
She turned it over, examining it. It looked like Byron’s. Probably a flintlock or some other term she’d heard her uncle talk about. If she pulled the trigger, it would shoot. Of course, she didn’t know if it was loaded, and didn’t even know how to load it. She took the small package of rounds from the case and a bottle of gunpowder, nonetheless. She closed the box and placed
it carefully back in the drawer. Hopefully, her uncle wouldn’t miss it. The pistol was the last thing she placed in her suitcase.
Her uncle, Byron, and Landon stood waiting for her downstairs. Byron looked relieved that she had packed. Her uncle and Landon looked increasingly worried.
“Mira, I know this will be hard for you, but I can’t begin to tell you what a relief this is. Ever since you’ve come back, I’ve been worried sick. I just—” Her uncle stopped.
“I know. You don’t want to lose me, too.” She looked up at him with a slight smile.
“I don’t think I could handle it if…well, if anything were to happen to you.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sure there are quite a few things to draw out there, and the new surroundings will do you good. I’ve arranged for you to stay in a hotel in Bradford until we can find other accommodations.”
“Of course.”
“Aren’t you taking Nero?” Her uncle looked at her and cocked his head.
“He doesn’t like trains, you know that. He can stay here until we get everything sorted out.”
Her uncle nodded. “This is for the best, Mira. Especially with the recent rise in crime. Two more murders in Whitechapel just yesterday morning,” he muttered.
Byron came to the foot of the stairs and extended a hand to take her luggage. She shook her head and kept ahold of her precious cargo. Byron stepped back and studied her. She tried to keep her face unreadable. Her uncle embraced her, hiding her expression.
“I would go with you if I could, but unfortunately business keeps me here. Landon will escort you to the train station. You’ll be able to manage from there on your own?”
“Of course, Uncle.” She started to move towards the door and then hesitated and looked at Byron. He continued to study her. He mustn’t suspect. She swallowed, set her suitcase down by the wall, and moved over to him.
“Byron, please be careful.”
“I will, Mira. I will.”
“No, I mean seeing as I might never see you again.”
“Yes Mira?”
She hesitated for a moment and looked down.
“Byron, I…” Her voice cracked. She couldn’t bring herself to say it.
“I know.” He brushed her cheek with his hand.
She looked up at him, noting worry in his eyes. No longer suspecting. Completely trusting. Even recognizing. She gave him a soft smile. Byron leaned in closer and whispered into her ear.
“I’ll find a way out of this situation and get that journal back as well. I’d like to read more about the girl that I’m in love with.” He took her hand and gently kissed it. Her face flushed as she glanced at her uncle. Byron smiled at her.
“Miss Mira, it’s time to go.” Landon picked up her suitcase and opened the door.
“Byron, promise me.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t do anything foolish.” She gave her uncle a final hug and followed Landon out the door. Landon called a carriage and set the suitcase down in the bottom when it stopped. He helped Mira in and then sat next to her. The carriage rumbled towards the train station.
“I’m surprised, Miss.”
“That I gave in so easily?”
“Yes, actually.”
“You all have good reason to want me safe. Even if I don’t agree.”
He nodded and went silent. She peered out the window at the street. “Landon, what if he dies?” Her voice cracked again.
“He won’t.”
“But what if…”
“He explained the whole situation to me, Miss. If they truly know of his memory problems, he isn’t a threat to them. You are the only one in danger here.”
“I find it difficult to believe that.”
“We’ll contact you as soon as he sends us any news. I’m certain he has a plan. And I’m guessing you do as well?”
“Why would I have a plan?”
“I like to think I know you better than just about anyone, Miss. I can see the scheming behind your eyes.”
“No. I’m going to Yorkshire,” she lied.
“I also picked up your suitcase.” He gave her a pointed look. “It seems a bit light. Just don’t let me see. After all, I have a duty to your uncle.”
“You aren’t going to stop me?”
“I’ve known you long enough. I might as well save my breath rather than try to stop you. If you follow your own advice, I’ll try not to worry.”
“My advice?”
“Don’t do anything foolish.”
They rode on in silence until they reached the train station. He helped her out of the carriage and took her suitcase to the ticket desk. He returned with a ticket and walked with her into the station. The air filled with steam from the waiting train.
“I suppose this is goodbye for now, Landon.”
“Yes, it is, Miss. Just remember your first stop is in Bradford. You’ll stay the night there before going on to York.”
“I remember. Don’t worry.”
“I’ll always worry about you, Miss.” Wetness filled his eyes. She hugged him tight.
“I’ll be fine.”
She pulled away and gave him a smile. He smiled back and then helped her onto the train. She would be traveling first class if she stayed on the train. Except that wasn’t in the plan. She moved to a window in first class and waved goodbye to Landon through a gap. She waited until he left the station, and then began her journey to the back of the train. It wasn’t moving yet and wouldn’t be leaving until seven o’clock. She checked the time on the train station clock. Ten to seven. She didn’t have much time. She moved past the dining car and past the people sitting in second class. A conductor stood in front of the door to the baggage car. She took a breath and walked up to him.
“Excuse me sir, a server in the dining hall told me that a conductor was needed. There is a passenger making a disturbance.”
“There is?”
“Yes sir. I was just moving into second class, and he asked me if I could pass the message on.”
“I’m afraid that I need to keep to my post here.”
“Several other passengers were complaining about it, sir. It is becoming quite a riot in there. We wouldn’t want to delay the train. I also heard that Lady Devonshire was getting quite upset with it all.”
“Ah! We can’t have that then, no. I’ll see what I can do about it.”
He sprinted up second class towards the dining hall. As soon as he ran out of sight, she slid the bolt out of the lock and slipped across the gap between the cars. She tested the handle and found it locked. She sighed and pulled out two hairpins. Her hair fell around her shoulders. The simple lock was much easier to crack than the one at the smuggling hold, and as the pins slipped into place, the door handle turned.
It was quiet and private. The perfect place to change. That is, if she could find her suitcase. Unfortunately, her luggage looked very similar to everyone else’s. After looking through a couple of stacks, the train whistled, and the car lurched as the train began to move. The tower of baggage swayed in its restraints, and Mira lifted her hands to steady it. With the train moving, she had very little time to find her suitcase, change, and jump off the train before it hit full speed. After a few minutes, she found her suitcase and began to undress. She found it difficult to keep herself upright as the train continued to pick up speed, and her petticoats weren’t helping. After about ten minutes of wrestling with her clothing and corset, she managed to get dressed in her brother’s clothes. She found the trousers to be slightly too short after hemming, and the jacket still a bit too long, but overall everything seemed to fit adequately. She tied her hair up the best she could without a mirror, placed the pocket watch in her vest pocket, put on the hat, and buttoned her shoes. She put the pistol in one pocket and the envelope in the other. They made her pockets bulge, but if she kept her hands in her pockets, she hoped no one would notice.
She packed her own clothes into the suitcase and stacked it on the other luggage in the car. She didn�
�t need any extra baggage going into this, especially if she had to jump. She didn’t know how to get off the train, but logic dictated that the end of the train would be the best place to start. She made her way to the back of the baggage car, grateful that she didn’t have to worry about her petticoats getting stuck between the luggage stacks. She sped across the car and opened the door at the end. The ground passed beneath her like a river. The coupling swayed back and forth. One misstep and she would be pulled beneath the train. The train slowed, approaching a turn. She hesitated, took a breath, and then prayed that the next door would be unlocked. She hopped onto the coupling and grabbed a hold of the handle.
It opened with ease, and she slipped inside the last car. Windows lit the room and several bunks lined the walls on either side. A guard lay on one of the bunks. She froze before realizing that he was asleep. She let out a breath of relief, then tiptoed past. She opened the last door and stepped out. A wave of fresh air and light overcame her senses, and she smiled. She held onto the railing and looked out as trees moved past. The train slowed again, approaching a new curve, but she still didn’t like the prospect of jumping from a moving train. A mossy clearing between the trees appeared around the bend. Despite her reservations about jumping, this was her chance. It was foolish, but it could be her only opportunity. She took a deep breath, braced herself, and jumped from the train.
At first, she only felt exhilaration. The wind against her skin and filling her lungs. She felt the top hat fly off her head, and she pulled her arms up into her face as she hit the mossy ground and rolled, gasping for breath. For a few moments it was all grass and moss and dirt. Rolling over and over. She slowed to a stop and laughter bubbled out of her. She just jumped from a train! The adrenaline overpowered her. Then she felt a sharp pain in her shoulder, and sharper pain near her hip.
She stopped laughing and tried to sit up. The pain in her hip dulled a bit. She landed on the pistol. She moved each of her limbs and found that they weren’t broken. Her shoulder landed on a rock which tore a good-sized hole into her jacket. She was covered in a thin layer of dirt and grass stains. She stood up, aching, but alive. She gathered the things she had lost in the tumble, her hands shaking. Soon enough, she found everything, including the top hat, and walked back towards the station.
Constantine Capers: The Pennington Perplexity Page 26