“Stay out of this, woman, or you’ll suffer the same fate as this whore,” one of the men sneered.
“Help!” Almost straightaway, a door opened behind her. Had she not been looking at the men, she would’ve missed their reaction. The look on their faces registered terror as they stared, almost transfixed beyond her.
“Please, we didn’t know that…that the lady was under your protection, milord.” The man’s voice was thin from fear as she held out his hands, palms up. His cohort stood next to him, his face a rigid mask of terror. “Please…”
Sylvia cradled the injured girl tightly against her bosom. Whatever was going to happen to the two young men, didn’t interest her. All she knew was that she had to take care of the shivering woman.
***
Tia stifled a yawn behind her fan. She was bored to tears by these dreary soirees, but she was expected to make an appearance now and then to appease her queen and friend. They had made a pact early on in their friendship. The king would turn a blind eye to her uncommitted existence and not press for an arranged marriage, as long as Tia maintained her station in the public as a valuable member of the ton. Tia acknowledged that it was a small price to pay for her freedom. If it meant she could live her life as she wished and come and go as she pleased, she could bear the endless gossip and exhausting flirtations of the foppish lords a few times a month. Speaking of which. She grimaced behind her fan when the tall, skinny frame of Lord Adam Bedford, the Marquess of Hammond broke away from a nearby group and made his way over to her.
“Your Grace,” he greeted with a thin smile. “I was hoping to catch you alone.” His blue eyes raked over her body and rested a few moments longer on her bosom. Tia hid a shudder at his open regard. “It is rather stifling in here and I was wondering if you could be persuaded to take a walk in the gardens.”
Not on your life, Tia seethed inwardly. But instead, she gave him a small smile and held up her dance card. “I am completely overwhelmed by my own popularity tonight. Maybe some other time, milord?”
“I must admit that I was quite disappointed to find that your dance card was already filled before I could make my interest known. Please consider me a willing substitute should one of your dance partners fail to take advantage of their good fortune, milady.” With a stiff bow he disappeared back into the perfumed and powdered mass in the hall. She beckoned a server closer and helped herself to a glass of champagne.
A group of young lords filled with the self-importance of their station, came to stand at a table nearby. They were the ones, who were the greatest perpetrators of the crimes she hoped to stamp out. Disregarding them, she took a sip of her champagne, only to almost choke when she caught the tail end of their conversation.
“…to slippery to catch. The scoundrel has been on the authorities’ most wanted list for too long and to date there is nothing to show for their efforts.”
“The Maverick, aptly named as he is, is seen as the Robin Hood of the poor. The longer he remains afoot, the stronger and larger his support-base grows. It is time that we consider a more concerted effort to catch the knave.”
Tia eavesdropped shamelessly, whilst waiting for her next dance partner to claim her. It had been more than a week since The Maverick last had been in touch. For the first few days, she had wandered around her room at night, waiting for him to make an appearance, but as the days rolled into a week, she had given up hope that he would return. But still, it was good to know that he was still out there and that his presence in the city was keeping the authorities on their toes.
“Milady.”
She almost spilled her drink at the unexpected voice next to her. She blinked at the servant. “Yes.”
“A note has been delivered for you.” He held out a tray with a folded note on it. She reached for it with a softly muttered ‘thank you’ and placed her glass on the table. Her glance swept the ball room. Everyone on her correspondence list was in attendance. Who would waste their time and ink to send her a missive, if they could simply walk over and talk to her? She unfolded the note.
Meet me at the fountain in the garden in five minutes. M
She quickly refolded the note, her heart thumbing in her chest. Could it really be him? She reached for her glass and took a bigger-than-was-appropriate sip from her glass. Why would he take the risk of coming here and not meet her at her home? She carefully placed the glass on the table and made her way to the exit. Just as she was about to slip out, her name was called out.
“Lady Tia. Your Grace.”
She turned to find Lord Richard Millet make his way over to her.” I believe the next dance is mine.”
She smiled at him, injecting as much regret as she could into the smile. “My apologies, milord, but I have just been the recipient of some bad news about a friend.” She allowed her eyes to well up with tears. “I need a few minutes alone to compose myself. I pray you will understand my need for privacy at a time like this.”
Lord Millet looked utterly crestfallen at the missed dance, but his good breeding dictated he respect her wishes. He bowed deeply. “My sincerest condolences, milady. Would you care for an escort?”
She shook her head faintly. “Thank you, dear sir, but I will be fine as soon as I can have some privacy to process the news.” Before he could insist any further, she fled the room and made a dash for the large doors leading to the garden. The garden was well-lit, allowing her to make good headway. She only slowed down a little when she encountered a few couples strolling through the gardens. She sighed with relief when she saw the fountain. Her relief quickly turned to despair when she noticed that it was deserted. But where was he? He said five minutes. Calculating the time, it took for her to get the missive, dodge Lord Millet’s attentions and make her way through the large garden, it should already have been five minutes. She was about to turn around, when she saw a slight movement in the bushes at the side of the fountain. Of course, he wouldn’t come out and show himself in such a public setting. She made her way over the fountain and took a seat at one of the benches nearby.
“You came.” A voice spoke from the shadows of the rose bushes.
“Yes. I have been waiting for you to make contact again. Are you going to help me?”
She held her breath when silence met her inquiry. He wouldn’t come all this way and risk being caught only to tell her ‘no’.
“How well do you know Lord Gifford, the Earl of Sherry?”
She frowned. “Not well. I only see him at some of the soirees I attend. Why do you ask?”
There was soft rustle of leaves. “He’s been abusing his servant girls. He forces them to his bed regularly with threats of imprisonment on made-up theft charges. For the unlucky ones who conceive, he sets his hired cronies on the girls to beat and rape them until they miscarry.”
Tia was frozen with shock at hearing such an atrocity. She shuddered at the horror these women had to go through. But she needed to be sure. “How…how do you know all that?”
“Does it matter? You said you wanted to help these people,” came the angry answer.
She itched to turn around, so she could see him, but she knew that would be a mistake. It would put him in danger, if prying eyes were watching from the balcony.
“I need to know that he is guilty.”
Silence.
“I need irrefutable proof of his guilt for my piece of mind, too. I would hate to wreck a man’s life, only to find it had been a simple rumour.”
“Come to the inn. Make sure you are not followed. Use the side entrance from the alley. You’ll find your proof there.”
She didn’t have to ask or look, but she knew he had left. She sat there for a few more minutes going over the information. She had heard some nasty things in her life, but for someone to be so callous as to kill an unborn in the womb... It was a new level of depravity. If it was the truth, she would enjoy the humiliation she would rain down on that monster.
It was time to go home and to change. This time she would take B
urton with her.
***
Oasis downed the glass of brandy with one big swallow, then poured herself another. She was aware of Sylvia looking at her.
“How is the girl faring?” She walked over to sit in the chair near the fire.
Sylvia came to stand next to her. “They got her good. We had to call the midwife to remove the baby.” A soft sob escaped Sylvia’s lips. “She was so small.”
Oasis opened her arms and Sylvia slipped onto her lap. In silence they sat here, cradling each other. Her arms tightened around Sylvia when the older woman let out a soft sob.
“I promise that I’ll make sure that he never does that to another girl ever again.”
Sylvie sniffled and sat up; her teary gaze filled with infinite sadness. “There is only so much that you can do, love. These people are above the law.”
Oasis shook her head. “Apparently not anymore. I’ve made a powerful ally, who wants to put an end to such exploitative acts.”
“Probably one of your noble floozies, who in the height of pleasure made you such a promise,” she muttered and slid off Oasis’ lap. “Nothing will come of it. Now that, I promise you.”
Oasis smiled. If only, the duchess was one of her floozies. She would give her right eye to be able to take that hothead to her bed. The woman was a piece of work. Since her first meeting with the duchess, Oasis had tried very hard, and many times, to douse her fever for the noble woman in the arms of willing wenches. But to no avail. The elusive citrusy scent of Lady Tia haunted her senses and taunted her sex ruthlessly. Earlier tonight, as she sat there in the soft light of an oil lamp at the fountain, Oasis had been struck by the woman’s effortless splendour. Lady Tia, the Duchess of Camphor was a siren. Albeit one who seemingly wasn’t in the least aware of her attraction. And Oasis was not going to be the one to awaken the young woman to that fact, lest she fell hard for the gorgeous blonde. The mere sight of Lady Tia stirred her hot, wild Gypsy blood. That first night when she had kissed the woman to keep her from alerting her bodyguard, Oasis had been left dazed for the rest of the evening. She still woke at night feeling those soft lips under hers. If a single closed-mouthed kiss could affect her so, Oasis was afraid of what one night in the duchess’ arms would do. No. She was going to have to keep that woman at arms’ length.
With a soft sigh, Oasis reached out and took Sylvie’s hand. “She’ll drop in sometime tonight to see the girl.” She grinned when Sylvie blinked at her. “She asked for proof before she sets the wheels in motion. I couldn’t say no, now could I?”
“Does she know who you are?”
“She was the one who came asking about me a week ago. She knows me only as The Maverick and I want to keep it that way. Nor do I want to be seen by her when she comes by later.”
“Will that not put us in danger? Can she be trusted?”
“Yes. She can be trusted.” Oasis was shocked to find that it was true. She trusted Lady Tia.
Sylvia dabbed her grey curls. “In that case, I better go freshen up. I wonder if my new bonnet will do for this meeting. Maybe…” Her voice trailed off as she rushed from the room. Oasis smiled and drained her brandy.
***
Tia grimaced at the smell that assaulted her nose when she opened the carriage door. Throwing a quick glance sideways, she made her way over to the dark alley. She heard heavy footsteps behind her and knew that her ever-present shadow was following closely. Anyone trying to mug her would be utterly sorry, seeing that she had a mountain of a bodyguard with her. After their last fall out, she had decided to let him in on her nocturnal activities. Due to his size, he was easily recognizable, and he was aware that there would be times that he would not be able to accompany her. It had taken her almost two hours to get him to agree to that.
They reached the door and she knocked softly. Behind her, she heard Burton sigh before his ham-like fist pounded on the door. She glared at him, but before she could reprimand him for his oafish behaviour, the door swung open, revealing a rotund middle-aged woman. For a moment they only stared at each other. The woman’s eyes moved carefully over her face. After leaving the ball, she had changed into her male disguise, complete with the stained teeth and scruffy hat.
“Welcome, milady,” the woman said with a neat curtsy. “He said you would be stopping by. My name is Sylvie.”
Tia was disappointed. If the woman could see so easily through her disguise, then it meant a big part of her plan had to be reviewed. She must’ve shown her disappointment, for the woman smiled broadly, her eyes twinkling merrily.
“Oh, your disguise is perfect, milady. The only flaw is that I cannot recall ever having met a man here in the slums who smelled of freshly pressed citrus blossoms.”
A soft snort behind her, had her push her elbow into Burton’s ribs. She grinned at the woman. “A novice mistake, Mistress Sylvie. I promise it will not be repeated.”
“Please follow me, milady.”
The place was clean and smelled of freshly baked bread and rich stew. They must be in the kitchen area, she thought as she looked around eagerly. They walked past an open doorway and she threw a quick glance inside. It was the common room of the inn, filled to the brim at this hour with tired dock workers, eager to see an end to a hard day. A thought struck her suddenly.
“Is he here?” Her heart pounded at the thought of finally meeting her faceless associate.
“No, milady. He rarely stays in one place longer than necessary.”
Tia didn’t know what to make of the response. Does it mean that Maverick didn’t live here? Or does he simply operate from this inn? She wanted to ask Sylvie to elaborate on her answer when Sylvie opened the door and walked in. She followed and was immediately hit by the strong smell of eucalyptus oil. A small figure lay covered on the single bed. Sylvie walked over and gently cupped the young girl’s cheek. Tia stared in horror at the girl’s face. The side of her face was so grotesquely swollen that it gave the girl an asymmetrical look. Her eyes were puffed-up and her lip were smashed in several places. She swallowed hard as she stepped closer. Sylvia looked up, her eyes swimming in tears.
“We had to remove her baby. It was killed during the attack and she was bleeding heavily.”
Tia reached out and pulled the older woman in her arms. She had to fight not to let her own tears escape. She felt Burton moving closer to her. His rage pounding against the walls of the small room. She was grateful that the perpetrators were not present, for she had no idea how she was going to stop Burton from pulverizing their bones. She wondered what happened to the men who did this.
“Where are the men who did this? Did you call the authorities?”
Sylvie shook her head. “He took care of them after he made them tell him who their master was. They won’t hurt another girl again.”
Burton growled in satisfaction. He took care of them. Did that mean that he…? She couldn’t even think it. She will have to talk to Maverick, about his executioner style punishments. She didn’t want to be an accessory to murder. Not even for the sake of catching a monster such as Lord Gifford.
“Could I leave a message for him?”
Sylvie nodded.
“Please ask him to contact me. We have a lot to discuss about how we are going to handle this situation.”
“I’ll do so, milady.”
Tia looked at the girl again and shook her head. She couldn’t comprehend that someone would do something so foul to such an innocent, vulnerable person. “I will have my man, drop off some medicine and food for her. If you need anything else, do not hesitate to send for me.” With another gentle squeeze, she moved away from Sylvie. “Thank you for taking care of her.”
Back in the carriage, she leaned into Burton and cried until she had no more tears left. He sat quietly, holding her head against his chest.
“Who could be so cruel?”
“Lord Gifford, evidently.”
She inhaled deeply. In her mind’s eye she could see Lord Gifford walking amongst his peers. Appear
ing like the perfect gentleman on the outside, while only skin-deep, his monster lurked.
“What are we going to do?”
“Let The Maverick decide. I love his way of dealing with monsters.”
“No, Burton. I will not condone murder. We cannot break the law, if our aim is to serve justice.” She closed her eyes, seeing the girl’s battered face before her. “Even a monster needs a fair hearing.”
Burton snorted derisively. “That’s not going to happen, Tia.”
“We have to hope and pray it will, my friend.”
***
Lord Joseph Gifford, the fourth Earl of Sherry, was drunk and itching for a little bed sport. Down the hall, his overweight, bland wife was snoring, but it had been years since he had touched that cow. She had come with an attractive dowry and that was all she was good for. A few hasty copulations in the beginning had not resulted in any offspring and soon afterwards, he stopped visiting her rooms. Why would he, when the house was crowded with young, delectable servant girls? He had made it a point to have some input in the hiring of house servants, especially the girls. His argument was that he needed to make sure that they were healthy and practiced good hygiene since they would be touching his food and personal effects. His wife had thought nothing of it and allowed him to loiter around when she was interviewing the new girls. It was then and there that he marked the ones he would add to his personal harem. He smiled as he stumbled down the dark hallway leading to the servant quarters. It was such a shame that his latest conquest had to be removed. She was a timid little thing who knew how to follow orders.
He stopped in front of the first door. Tonight, he wasn’t really picky. Anyone would do in the dark. He pushed the door open and glanced at the bed. The room was dark, but he could make out the empty bed. He frowned. The room was always occupied. Where was the girl? Could she be bunking with another of the servant girls? He turned and felt his heart stutter in shock at the sight of the tall dark shadow behind him.
Worlds Apart Page 3