She carefully took a seat on the daybed, but made sure to keep a decent distance.
“He said to ask you, milord, and I do intent to. But first,” she got up to pour a glass of water and scooped in a bit of headache power. She took the glass over to Pope, who in the meantime, had struggled to sit up. He was gingerly touching his face. “This will help with the pain.”
Pope eagerly reached for the glass and gulped down the bitter brew. He gave her a wan smile. “Thank you.”
Tia nodded and stood. “I need to let you know that I will not let you have Burton punished for striking you.”
“No need for that. I wouldn’t want to be on the bad side of that man ever again.”
“Good. Now, we were just about to sit down for lunch. Would you care to join us?” Tia desperately wanted to get to the bottom of the strife between Burton and Pope, but years of learning and watching her mother deal with guests had groomed her to become the ultimate host. But she still wasn’t going to change her outfit for lunch.
The dark eyes swept over her body and when they met her gaze, his eyes were heavy-lidded. “I would be delighted, milady.”
“I’ll let them know to set another place.”
***
Oasis could feel her eye beginning to swell shut. Maybe staying for lunch was not such a good idea. But the sight of that tall, lithe body in tight riding trousers and a crisp white shirt, had almost made her melt in a puddle of lust at the duchess’ feet. No woman had the right to be so attractive and sensuous. What made it worse was that Lady Tia wasn’t even aware of the effect she had on those around her. Oasis had to fight off the image of a naked Tia bucking under her as she furiously took her, the long legs of the blonde curled around Oasis’ middle.
“It’s best to avoid alcohol so soon after taking a headache powder,” Tia said suddenly from the door and Oasis’s head jerked up. The action causing her to groan as pain shot through her head. Hell’s bells, but the man could throw a punch! Oasis felt like she had run full speed into a concrete wall. She managed a smile at Tia and slowly came to her feet.
“Anything will do, milady.”
Tia left again and Oasis was shocked to find that the duchess didn’t use bells to call her servants as was the norm. She instead walked to where they were and made her request. That spoke of great mutual respect. She had asked around about the duchess and had heard that she had grown up with most of the people on her serving staff. When they sat for lunch, Oasis was not in the least surprised to find Burton joining them. The large man gave her a hard stare before he became engrossed in his lunch. Oasis and Tia managed to keep the conversation flowing around the table. It was only when dessert, a delicious lemon meringue pie was served, that Tia switched the topic to Oasis’ visit. Oasis sadly felt her appetite desert her.
“I was unaware that you had left London for the country. It was while I was standing, flummoxed, before a closed-up house, that this young boy came by and handed me a note addressed to you.” She took the note from the inside pocket of her jacket and handed it to a servant girl who quickly retrieved it and handed it to Tia.
“Thank you, Susan.” She read the letter and Oasis watched the multitude of emotions that crossed the duchess’ beautiful face. She finally looked up from the note in her hand. “Thank you, milord. A short note is hardly worth a three hours trip from the city, but I appreciate it.” Her eyes were harder and colder now. Oasis felt like kicking herself for having taken advantage of Tia’s good-nature. She felt Burton’s burning eyes on her and lifted her head to meet the menacing gaze.
“Well, it looked important.”
Tia scooped a forkful of pie into her mouth. Oasis felt a familiar heat uncoil in the pit of her stomach as she watched the full lips open slightly as Tia pulled out the fork.
“It’s not important, milord, but that doesn’t lessen my gratitude at all.”
Oasis felt the pain cut through her like a sharp knife until it pierced her heart. She had missed her chance with Tia. That last statement was evidence that the duchess was forever done with her. She focused her attention on her plate to hide the pain that she was sure was plain to see in her eyes.
“But I would really like to know about the conflict between you and my manservant, milord.” Tia’s eyes were sharp as they watched Oasis. “I wasn’t even aware that you two knew each other.”
Oasis laid down her fork and looked at Tia. “I would appreciate a little privacy if we are to discuss this issue, milady.”
“Of course, milord. My apologies for my insensitivity. My staff is like family to me and thus loyal to a fault. I rarely, if ever, feel the need to hide anything from them. I forget that outsiders might not share the sentiment. After lunch, I suggest we retire to the study.”
“Thank you, milady.” Oasis caught Burton’s eye and she grimaced inwardly at the smug look on his face. This day was not turning out the way she had planned.
***
The study was more like a library with floor to ceiling bookshelves. A large window allowed light to spill into the room, giving it a more tranquil atmosphere. Burton was pouring them each some brandy as Tia talked Oasis through some of her favourite childhood volumes. She noticed that Pope was constantly touching his face and after seeing him doing it for the fourth time, she turned to him. His eye was beginning to swell shut and Tia felt an unexpected surge of tenderness. She would have to let go of her selfish quest to know more about what had transpired between Burton and the nobleman. There will surely be another opportunity, when Pope was not injured, to question the man.
“I suddenly feel a little faint. Must be something I ate for lunch.” Both Pope and Burton spun around to look at her. Where Pope’s face was unreadable, Burton’s spoke volumes. She wondered what she was missing. For the look that flashed between the two men, was heavy with mystery. She curtsied and waited for the men to bow before she left the room. There was something there. And she’ll get to the bottom of it. She met her butler halfway on the sweeping staircase.
“Charles, spread the word that we’ll be returning to London in two days’ time.”
The moment she closed the door to her bedroom, she reached into her pocket for the note that had been burning a hole there. She had instantly recognized the handwriting.
Your Grace,
I would humbly like to tender my sincerest apologies for my uncouth behaviour. A woman of your standing should never be the recipient of such revolting treatment. I pray you consider my request and resume our association. As sceptical as I was at the start of our venture, I will be the first to admit that we are changing lives on both sides of the social spectrum. Thanks to you, the poor now know that they have a custodian, albeit an unknown one to them. Even the rich and powerful are aware that an invisible entity is watching over the vulnerable and holding them accountable for their deeds.
I hope to hear from you at your earliest convenience,
Your humble servant, always.
M
Tia read the note two more times and found herself smiling after the second read-through. The arrogant, obnoxious man knew how to apologise. That said a lot about him and his character. Well, The Maverick should get ready for her return. She had been bored out of her mind lately and craved some action.
Now, if only the two days would fly by quickly.
***
Caleb squinted through the cigarette smoke as he studied Oasis. Aware of the scrutiny, Oasis ignored her friend. They had been sitting outside Lord Robert Luton’s house. Earlier in the day, they had sent in one of their own and were waiting for her to report back.
“You’re awfully quiet lately.”
Oasis snorted. “I’m always quiet. It’s you who yap all the time, thus not realizing I’m the quiet one.”
Caleb chuckled softly. “My mistake then.” He drew on his cigarette and held it out to Oasis who took a long drag. “How’s the beautiful duchess doing?” He smiled when Oasis gave him a cold look. “What? Did I say something wrong? Is she not
beautiful anymore?”
She sighed as she returned her attention to the cigarette. After another long drag she handed it back to him. “Here. It might help you talk less.”
“I saw her earlier.”
Oasis tried hard not to react to the news. After her return from Bellingham Estate, she had not ventured out much. The massive black eye was one reason she limited her social engagements. The other, she would never admit to anyone. Not even Caleb. Without Tia here, London was dreary. She could explain away the black eye, but no words could adequately describe the sense of emptiness that Tia’s absence brought on.
“Here she is.”
Tia was here? Her head snapped up and she felt herself deflate at the sight of their mole making her way to where they stood. Emily was tiny with big, trusting eyes and an air of innocence about her, but both Oasis and Caleb knew better. The girl was as deadly as any street fighter in Oasis’ employ. She wielded a blade with the skill of a trained physician. They had no need to fret over her safety in the Luton household. On the contrary, Oasis seriously feared for Lord Luton’s life if he tried to slip unannounced into Emily’s bed one night. Oasis watched as the young woman accepted the cigarette from Caleb and took a long drag on it.
“I must say that the man has a great scheme going. All the girls I’ve spoken to say the same thing. Using their family as leverage, he gets them to apply for positions in prominent households in the city.” She took a drag from the cigarette and handed it back to Caleb. “They then rob their new employers and disappear with their loot, which are then hand over to Lord Luton. What he does with it is anyone’s guess.” She wrapped the shawl tighter around herself. “I could find out how many homes have been robbed at his request.”
Oasis nodded. “That, as well as what was taken.”
Emily smiled. “Consider it done.” Like a shadow she disappeared into the night.
“And now we wait.”
Caleb shook his head. “You wait. I’ll go find something to drink and maybe even a warm body to chase away this chill. See you tomorrow.” Oasis watched as Caleb walked off and threw a last glance at the Luton residence. Where to now? She was eager to see for herself if Tia was indeed back in London, but after the last time, she felt like she had lost the right to enter the duchess’ inner sanctum. Maybe a long walk would clear her mind.
She kept to the shadows as she made her way down the blocks towards Fairfield and through the bustling mecca of taverns and gambling houses of the area. She loved being amongst the people, real people. Before her father claimed her, she had lived amidst the very people she was walking amongst now. The old Marques’ aging mother had changed that immediately when she heard that her son’s bastard was living first in a slum and then in the woodlands surrounding Paris. They were moved to the country estate where a small, but charming gypsy village had been constructed for her and her mother and their extended family. Life was free and fun, food was in abundance and the only downside she could remember, was the hours of home-schooling. She had to bathe and dress in her nicest clothes to meet her grandmother for the lessons. When the old lady died, a young governess was brought in to take over. When she turned fifteen the Marques sent them all to live in the colonies on a plantation that he had bought. The rest was history.
“A nice evening, isn’t it?”
The voice, so cold and so near, immediately put Oasis on high alert. She had dropped her guard as she had reminisced about the past. She turned to the voice and met a stare, which was filled with so much malice, it made goose bumps break out on her skin. Oasis always thought she would know when her time had come, but she was mistaken. Death wasn’t big on announcements. She felt the sharp prick and the coldness of a blade sliding in. She wanted to reach for her gun, but her arm felt numb, her breathing shallow and thin. She knew her lung had been pierced.
“It’s an even better night to die,” the voice hissed with obvious relish. “There is a new boss in town and he sends his regards. The view from the top is a coveted position.” The knife began to twist, but a nearby shout caused her assailant to push away from her. She felt her knees buckle and she fell face first into the rotten mud.
“Sis…sis…ter Mad…line”
“What did you say?” a man’s voice asked, but her strength was fading fast, as was her consciousness.
She was going to die and Tia would never know.
***
Tia was trying to shoo off the persistent fly that was trying to break her concentration. She was very close and no one was going to stop her this time. She was going to lift that mask and discover the true identity of The Maverick.
“Milady?”
Tia shrugged off the hand. Not this time. She was close. Too close. Go away fly.
“Wake up, milady.”
The shaking increased and Tia felt like crying as she watched The Maverick smile at her and turn away. He was leaving and…
“Milady, you have to wake up, please.”
Tia rolled over and groaned. The bloody fly won and once again she had missed her chance to uncover the mystery. She felt the bed move and she slowly opened her eyes. She blinked at the light of the lantern held over her head.
“Milady, there is a messenger downstairs from the hospice.”
“A messenger?” From the hospice? Did something happen? Sister Madeline? She sat up quickly. “Sister Madeline. Where is the messenger?”
“Downstairs, milady. The carriage should be ready by now and I’ve laid out something for you to wear.”
Tia dressed in record time and was flying down the stairs when she saw Burton standing with a strange man. The man swallowed when he saw her and bowed deeply. She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him upright.
“What happened?”
“Sister Madeline requests your presence urgently, Your Grace. She said it was matter of life and death.”
Tia cupped her mouth as she felt her stomach began to roil. She was relieved when Burton immediately took charge and led her and the messenger out of the house and to the waiting carriage. The ride over to the hospice was done in complete silence, with a number of scenarios, each worse than the next, flashing through her mind.
The hospice halls were empty as the man led her to the surgical wing of the building. She had not been on this side before and found herself being ushered into a room overlooking the operating table. She swallowed hard at the gory scene that met her. Amongst the bloody sheets and pools of blood on the floor, four people were working intensely on a body on the operating table. The patient’s face was covered, as was the rest of him, except for his gaping chest. Tia shuddered at the sight, but couldn’t make herself look away. It still boggled her mind why Sister Madeline wanted her here. Behind her, she heard someone else enter the observation room, but she was so caught up in the tense, almost dance-like routine of the nuns below, that she couldn’t look away. They were in constant contact with the patient, as if they wanted him to know that he was in good hands. Sister Madeline, standing on some kind of a step, was working intensely in the gaping cavity of the patient’s chest. Of the three other nuns, one nun was assisting Sister Madeline by periodically passing instruments to her. Another was keeping vigil at the patient’s head, while another was using limitless amounts of cloths to dab at the blood in the chest cavity.
“…not the first time. Everything will be okay.”
The softly uttered encouragement stirred her from the rapt fascination of seeing the nuns patiently work on saving a life. It struck her then that although she didn’t know why she was here, the other people could give her a clue as to who was on the operating table and how she was tied into all this. She turned and saw a man a woman sitting a row behind her. The woman’s face was hidden in the man’s heavy coat. Although his face was vaguely familiar, it didn’t stir any memory in Tia. Just as she was about to turn away, the woman lifted her face.
Tia shot to her feet.
No! No! No!
Her hand reached out to the touch the cold gla
ss that separated them. This could not be happening.
Not him! Not now!
IX
‘Meeting the Masked One’
Tia looked down at her hands. They were pale and trembling. As soon as she had found out who it was on that blood-soaked operating table, she couldn’t stand the sight of the blood and the gaping cavity anymore. Suddenly, the synergy of the nuns as they worked together didn’t resemble a delicate dance anymore. Instead, every memory of The Maverick had surfaced, bit by bit. She will admit that he was a cad, especially on their last meeting, but Tia had met men who were worse.
She had left the observation area and instead opted to wait in Sister Madeline’s office. Not that it was a better option, since every echoing footfall in the hallway had her sitting up straight, watching the door. Tia glanced at the large grandfather clock in the corner. It had been more than three hours since she had been woken from a sound sleep. She caught a partial reflection of herself in the glass pane of the large clock. For someone who was awake at this hour, she looked well-groomed. Her hair was in place and her face looked pale, but composed. It was her eyes that gave it all away. They were reflecting intense emotional chaos. She swallowed and blinked a few times, but nothing could ease the quiet chaos that she felt inside.
Why? Why did the possible death of a violent underworld gang boss affect her so much? Yes, they had worked together for the past three months, but does that really warrant the amount of inner turmoil she was experiencing at the moment? If there was more, what could it be? It was driving her mad. She didn’t even like men, not like that. Or did she now? No. She shook her head. This was not something she could turn on and off like that. Not for her. She was startled out of her thoughts when the door opened and Sister Madeline entered the office. The nun looked utterly exhausted, her eyes sunken and her face pale and pasty. She gracelessly fell into the chair and immediately leaned her head on the desk. Tia watched the older woman in mute panic. That wasn’t the reaction of someone who had been successful recently. Her eyes ran over the skewed veil where a few greying blonde strands had escaped its confines. The nun would never allow anyone else to see her like this. She was always groomed and the picture of elegant poise. Thus, Tia allowed her friend a moment as she sat back in her chair, suppressing her own curiosity about the state of the patient.
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