The girl laughed, combing her fingers through short, almost alabaster hair. She was wearing a man’s suit vest with a white blouse underneath. A rather large and full bowtie hung down and around her neck: a spill of rumpled cloth against black, and overtop brown hound’s-tooth, tweed trousers. “I feel like we’ve had a few too many escapades to be calling each other Miss this and Mister that, don’t ya think, Simon?” That, at least, was true, though he didn’t feel inclined to admit it in his present company.
“V-very well, Fae.” It didn’t seem fair to be a ghost and to not be able to disappear when you liked, Simon thought. “But—”
“Is this Hershal’s daughter?”
Damnation! Simon bit his lip again as the young girl swerved, clicking knee length, leather boots together.
“The very one.” Fae offered Dashing a wide grin that showed her front bottom and top teeth. She had large, round eyes, brown like mud but friendly and a wide nose that was turned up slightly at the end that made her appear perpetually girlish.
“The dice hound herself, eh?” Dashing said with good humour. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here. Though, the fact you seem intimately acquainted with our good, old Mr. Todd is unexpected.”
“Are you kiddin’? I’ve known him since he saved me back in the day. Me ol’ man may keep it a secret, but Simon here saved me from a load of grimy bastards.”
Simon cleared his throat. “L-language, Miss Hershal,” he said under his breath. The young lady laughed again.
Jane Darcy furrowed his brow, captivated at the moment by the direction of the story. “What did he do that was so gallant?”
“Quite nothing, I’m afraid,” Simon made haste to reply. By the gods this woman was loud. She’d fill the ears of the whole brothel if she continued on the way she was.
“Nothing!” Fae spat, pulling up a chair and spinning it around to sit in it backwards. “Wasn’t nothin’ at all.”
“So, something?” Darcy continued.
“A whole lot of something! Good old Mr. Todd paid me debts. Tried to do it secretly so me Dad wouldn’t find out, but it got out all the same.” She sniffed, and wiped her nose with her hand before settling her chin in the crook of her arms on the back of the chair. “Did it before the brothel could sell me off, too.”
“The brothel?” Miss Baxter asked, her eyes widening with concern.
“Not this one. But one like it. The mob owns a lot of businesses out here, especially the dice houses. If you can’t pay they’ll get the money somehow. They had me set up to be a doxy, but Simon got word and set everything straight.”
That wasn’t exactly how the tale went, but at least she was spinning it favorably. Simon could appreciate that.
Mr. Dashing seemed dubious. “It’s convenient Mr. Todd was in town during that time, then. For you and your father.”
“Damn straight! Though I guess it didn’t completely keep me from rollin’ dice, now did it?” Fae laughed. “Oh well. Ol’ habits and what not.”
Simon, who was still in the process of chewing a hole in his cheek, tried a smile, looking up at the ever charming Miss Baxter. She seemed impressed looking at him with her head angled to one side, hair catching the candlelight and throwing gold in his eyes. Simon sat up straighter, before another hand was pressed into his right shoulder.
“Simon?” This time it was a softer voice, thick and sultry like melted wax. It made him shiver deep down in his belly, causing a slight sneeze that he hastily covered with his hand. When Simon finally twisted to regard her, Molly Stein’s eyes twinkled devilishly.
“Back for another go, are we? Or did you bring your own lady for the evening?” She gestured to Miss Baxter, sucking in a breath until the entirety of her chest swelled within the confines of her almost translucent brassiere. Simon, who had his nose clamped closed within his fist, smushing the few spider spawn his allergies had conjured up, made haste to reply when Fae Hershal stepped in, standing from her chair with an angry expression on her face.
“Bugger off, ya swine! Simon’s in no need of your company.”
Molly, seemingly unfazed by Fae’s retort, continued, “I hope Gino doesn’t know you’ve brought in another girl. It’s in poor taste to come to a brothel with another whorehouse slattern, you know.”
Simon was furious, if not wholly humiliated. To top it all off he could still feel the squirmy legs of the half crushed spiders inside his nose. Scrambling for his kerchief, he began to respond when Fae intervened.
“Slog off! The only slattern around is you and no one’s buying anything you’re sellin’. So why don’t ya go find someone to sweep ya off your bloomin’ feet ‘fore Gino finds ya with your legs closed.”
Poor, poor Miss Baxter. Her chastity and virtue were taken into question and all Simon could do was wipe his accursed nose. Molly, taken aback, frowned as she ran long fingers down the soft white fur of the fox pelt she wore around her neck. When yet another woman in bloomers came to tell the party their rooms were ready, Simon took the way out.
“Excuse me,” he hastily said, still fiddling with his kerchief in an attempt to clear his nasal cavities. With nothing but a cursory glance toward his party before retreating, Simon stood, grasping Miss Hershal’s wrist as he did so. The young woman followed behind with a sudden jerk, but not before vulgarly saluting the fuming prostitute in the process.
“Well you’re all certainly very interesting,” Jane Darcy proclaimed, signalling to the servant girl to fetch them some brandy.
Mr. Dashing laughed, giving an apologetic wink to Miss Baxter as they were once again left alone. “Seems the life of an accountant can get pretty hectic.”
“Yes.” Miss Baxter replied thoughtfully, looking towards the foyer.
Chapter 5
A Tempest In A Teapot
“Are you daft? You can’t, I mean you shouldn’t, I mean Molly didn’t…” Simon Todd was utterly in a panic. Tearing at his hair he paced the room like a mad man. That the proprietor had given him the smallest boudoir in the building, Simon had no doubt, for it took only four strides to reach one wall, then three more hectic steps to cross back.
“What’s got your underclothes in a bunch? I made ya look the hero!”
That she did. Simon wasn’t angry about that, but he was frustrated about Molly. She’d insulted the poor Miss Baxter in his company and Simon had been too busy blowing his nose to do anything about it! Insinuating she was a whore? Who could…who would ever…? The entire affair was having a horrible effect on his nerves.
“I must apologize,” he said, looking about the room and noticing a flower arranged in a pot on his bed stand. He plucked it out, flicking some of the dust off the petals.
“For what? You didn’t call her a slattern.”
“But I am responsible for it happening. I must atone!”
“With a dusty daisy you found in a bordello? That’s sure to melt any young lady’s ‘eart.” That Fae was right was frustrating, but Simon stopped anyway, hands by his side with a face full of red.
“Well what would you have me do then?” he asked, watching as she stepped backwards and sat down on the simply tucked featherbed with her boots up on the backboard.
“I wouldn’t ‘ave you do anything.”
Simon felt his nose scrunch up at the sight of her. “What are you doing here anyway? Your father’d have a few choice words to say if he knew you were here.”
“What he don’t know won’t hurt ‘im.” She closed her eyes, folding her arms behind her head and picturing Mr. Todd’s amusingly frustrated face in her mind.
“Well, you ought to return home,” Simon replied, taking another step towards her.
“Should I?” She opened her eyes. “You ought to not bring young ladies, especially ones you’re so enamoured with, to brothels.”
To that Simon had no excuse or retort. He should have insisted that they go somewhere else. This wasn’t a place for Miss Baxter. His entire affair with Piper’s Toss was none of her concern. The
unpleasantness was his fault.
Turning away, Simon threw the half wilted flower on the bed stand, shoulders slumping as he sat down on a chair beside it. Fae sighed, throwing her legs back over the side of the bed as she sat up.
“Damnation Simon Todd, pull yourself together.” He was such a hopeless young man, but he was so pitiable sometimes, that she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. “You look a hero, I’d say. No one’s to know what really happened. I’m not going to tell a soul, and after all, you really did save me.”
Perhaps, Simon thought, if you forgot about all the details leading up to it. The fact was that Simon Todd fancied himself an absolute ninny. The whole of Darlington had heard the rumour that Fae Hershal was a gambling vagabond, and she certainly did favor the dice. That she had accrued an incredible amount of debt was a matter of fact. That the wizard mafia owned most businesses in Piper’s Toss and had thrown her in a brothel in an attempt to garner some back was also, unfortunately, true.
“Damn wizards, always throwing their weight around. Someday Grimguild will get his.”
“What did you expect?” Simon replied. “That wizard mobsters would just forgive a thousand crowns worth of debt?”
“Well.” Fae looked away, scratching at her chin in an effort to escape the question.
“Of course not,” Simon answered for her. Heironymous Grimguild, the Chancellor of Grimguild University, was also a rather infamous mob don. It was a well-known fact that many of his hierophant mages were also mobsters and he had a plethora of Arcane goons hired directly from the University alumni itself. It was all rather bothersome in that anyone who wished to study sorcery had to also attach themselves to the crime syndicate of mages. Simon was only glad that Miss Baxter had relatively few ties to the organization, at least, as told by her father.
“Well it doesn’t matter now. That’s all over and done. Me debts are paid. And we’re good mates now for it, aren’t we?” Fae wandered over to the door, chin held between her thumb and pointer.
Simon snorted. “I’d bloody well hope so!” he shot back. “After what you put me through.”
Fae grinned, turning again now that he had lost some of his pitiable state. “Well, don’t forget the whole story now, Mr. Todd. I may have been rollin’ a few too many dice, but it’s better than a wrong roll in the hay now, ain’t it?”
Ugh. That it was. Simon hadn’t forgotten either. He’d been in Piper’s Toss for one reason and that had been to hire a woman. Not that he was any sort of deviant, or wished to enact some kind of perversity upon them, mind you. He had simply wished to find a girl to wear the dress he had made for the occasion.
It was hard, you know, when you were in love with the most kind-hearted, innocent, naïve young woman in the world. All you wanted to do was to proclaim your love to her, but Simon was such a pitiable coward he hadn’t been able to. He was twenty-eight! At a ripe age to marry! He had a house, a garden, his own respectable job, but he couldn’t rustle up enough nerve to actually say anything. So he had often hired working ladies, especially in the most desperate of times. Not for any sexual act, he was much too devoted to Miss Baxter to even contemplate that, but as a manner of practice, and theatre. To… get him comfortable with the idea of speaking his heart to Miss Baxter…
That he had accidently hired Mr. Hershal’s daughter had been bad enough. He’d paid half her debts immediately to buy her silence and keep her father from blowing a gasket. It was all his savings could afford, but it lessened the blow for her when Mr. Hershal caught word, and she had spun such the heroic tale afterward that the generous businessman had offered him a substantial raise.
“Alright, alright.” He held his hands out in surrender. “I’ve had an awfully bad day, so let’s just,” he sighed, “consider the matter closed.”
Fae clapped her hands as though washing her hands of the issue. “So what was Molly’s problem back there? She certainly had ‘er tail feathers in the knot!”
“She couldn’t fit into the dress.”
Fae laughed. It was a boisterous sound, coming from the tips of her toes to bounce around in her belly. “And you came back after all that? You cock-a-ninny!” she said.
Simon collapsed on the bed stand, crushing the flower with his cheek in the process. “I just wanted to see it on someone.” He was a sorry, sorry young man.
Fae turned, taking the three strides it took to reach the bed. “Well, if anyone finds out about that, you’ve only got yourself to blame.”
“Noted. Thank you.” Simon sighed.
“But,” she continued, laying back against the wall with her legs over the mattress, “I wouldn’t worry too much about her or Sally. You’ve been back and forth here a good too many times for them to hold a grudge. Gino will make sure they’re tight-lipped when they need to be if ya ask ‘im.”
Well wasn’t that pleasant? He was so regular that he had the good favor of the Thirsty Bush proprietor. It was something he ought to be proud of, he thought sardonically.
“But ya still ‘aven’t answered me question of why yer here with Dashing, Baxter and, well, that other companion of yours, in the first place. I’d think if ya wanted to keep your secrets to yourself, you’d keep them far away from this place.”
His nose was feeling rather scratchy. Where was his pocket handkerchief? “I tried.” He blew his nose again. “But they’re all determined to go on an adventure.”
“Where to?”
Simon didn’t have much of an answer. To some abandoned dragon’s lair, he supposed. Led by a hastily scribbled map Mr. Dashing drew up to jog his memory in time of need. That was all well and good, but Simon was still currently upset by the fact his hand had went through the furniture and that he was still sneezing these accursed spiders out his nose.
Looking back at Miss. Hershal, he sighed. He didn’t think he had a liking for being dead, and he so very much wanted to unload the burden of secrets onto someone else to bear. But it didn’t seem proper. Miss Hershal was a young lady, his boss’ daughter. She was eccentric but, certainly not the appropriate confidant for all his worldly troubles.
“I’m feeling quite under the weather, Fae. Would you mind if I retired for the evening?”
“Are you sick?”
No, he thought. That would be convenient. “I’m just a little out of sorts.”
She ran her long fingers through short, platinum hair, inhaling deeply at his request. “Well, alright,” she said. “I’ll go downstairs and make sure Molly keeps her gob shut. Have a rest in the meantime, luv.” She sprang from the bed again, long leather boots thumping against the floor. The rain was still pouring outside, running in rivers down the small window facing the outer street. Piper’s Toss was lit up in a constellation outside. The candle on the desk added its own shine to the darkness.
Fae Hershal nodded to Mr. Todd as she shut the door behind her, leaving him to quite heavily collapse onto his feathered mattress. The draft from his fall caused the candlelight to be snuffed out, and soon Simon was in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. Over two days there had already been a great deal of trouble. Simon was feeling worried. He resolved that the majority of his quarrels would be solved as soon as they found the horses they sought and were quickly on their way. He’d also have to remember to purchase a tent.
Simon turned his head until he saw his case on the floor. Mr. Hershal had given him several golden crowns to finance his travels. He’d have to stop off at the bank tomorrow. The large ledger he had also been given would take an hour or so to update, but if Simon got up early enough, he could do it all before any of his party could be inconvenienced.
“One sleep until I’m quite away from this place.” Simon was still staring towards the roof. He resolved that when everything was said and done he’d make pains to confess his feelings to Miss Baxter and be quite done with all the improper affairs surrounding this horrid place. Starting tomorrow, he’d apologise.
In the meantime however, Mr. Todd closed his eyes, listening to the p
atter of rain against his bedroom window.
Chapter 6
Leafing Through Ledgers
The spider that resulted in Simon’s untimely demise was always at the forefront of his nightmares. With a big bulbous bum and brown markings across the thorax, he remembered the creature perfectly. It had descended from the windowsill of Miss Baxter’s boudoir window and bombarded him. It had been as large as a man’s thumb, perhaps even both thumbs held together! What a fright. Simon didn’t think he’d ever forgive the nasty creatures. Especially not for killing him. Especially not for invading his nightmares relentlessly.
Mr. Todd shot up with a fright. The cursed arachnid appeared to be crawling along the ceiling, large, white and brown, exactly like the one he had seen in Darlington but of an immeasurable size with two human-like limbs. He gave quite the shout as he tumbled out of bed, drawing the bedclothes to the floor with him. The morning was still rather dim, but as he struggled to the opposite wall, Mr. Todd was quite certain he saw the thing wriggle away and out the now open window in his bedchamber.
To add to the alarm, Miss Hershal, who had been idly dozing in the chair beside Mr. Todd’s bedside, loudly joined the chorus of shrieks when she was jolted out of her sleep by the stumbling, Frelish gentleman. Together they must have looked quite silly in the moment, screaming at seemingly nothing until Simon managed to take hold of a few good senses and manage a few coherent words.
“Did you see it?” he asked, still holding on to the sheets with white knuckles. “Did you see the spider?”
“I didn’t see nothin’ but you screamin’ ya bleedin’ neck off! What’s the problem with ya? You scared me half to death!”
“It was gigantic.” Simon looked back to the ceiling, eyes wide like boiled eggs. Picking himself up a moment later he ran to the window and promptly shut it.
“You were dreamin’.” Fae rubbed her eyes. She had kicked her boots off in the night and they were lying at the foot of the office chair. “Drank too much ‘fore bedtime, I’d imagine.”
The Curious Case of Simon Todd Page 6