by April White
The men seemed to listen to the darkness for a long moment, then that dog-nosed guy spoke in a normal voice. I almost lost my cider then and there. “Perhaps some student has a girl in his rooms. I’ll have the housemen do a search in the morning to find the tart and send her packing.”
“I’ll take her, your Grace.” The Ruffian’s voice was still a whisper, but I shivered at his words.
“You’ll do nothing of the sort. Things have finally quieted down again in London and I’ll not have that rabble roused until I’m ready.”
The men continued down the stairs, but not until they opened the door at the bottom did I dare to breathe again. I knew that voice. The man the Ruffian had called ‘your Grace’ was Bishop Wilder.
I don’t know how much time passed before Archer and Ringo came up the stairs, but I think Ringo nearly wet himself when I grabbed him on the landing. “We can’t go back to the room. Bishop Wilder knows we’re there.” My voice came out in a terrified whisper. Why that man scared me so much was a mystery to me, but he did, much more than my normal reaction to a Monger. But the simple fact was that Bishop Wilder was a guy I loathed and feared with every molecule of my body. And despite his job with God, or maybe because of it, he was dangerous.
Archer went stock-still as Ringo helped me to my feet.
“We got the notebooks with none the wiser.” Ringo’s voice was proud in my ear and I smiled at him.
“Then let’s go. We can leave here and find a room to rent somewhere in town, couldn’t we?”
Archer shook his head. “I have to stay. If I go missing my career here will be finished and then I’ll have nothing.” My eyes found his face in the darkness. This was not easy for him. Of course it wasn’t. Here I was relating to him like the Vampire I knew in the future. But this was the still-human Archer. The second son whose only prospects were tied up in his education. I’m sure my mom would have applauded him for sticking to his guns about staying in school.
I did too. “I’m sorry, of course you have to stay.”
He still sounded stricken though. “I occasionally use rooms that belong to my father. You can stay there for a time. He never comes to London anymore.”
“Thank you. I’ll take you up on it. My money’s still at home, hopefully being changed into something I can spend.” I smiled faintly. “Actually, it’s your money. From the coin you gave me when we first met.”
Archer’s tone softened. “So it was worth something after all?”
“More than you could know.” I sounded sappy but it was true. It was the act of a friend to give me that coin, maybe the first friend I’d ever had.
Ringo cleared his throat. “Is there aught to clear from the room before we go?”
“I wore my jeans under Archer’s trousers, so I’m good.” The men stared at me. “What? It’s cold outside.”
“Right then, back out into the night we go. I’ll meet you two by the gate. I just need to stop at my rooms for Father’s keys.”
Ringo and I didn’t speak until we were safely out of earshot of anyone at King’s College. “You don’t need to do this, you know. You have a job and a life to live. Helping me could be hazardous to your health, Ringo.”
The idea that I could have given the guys whatever flu bug I brought with me was really bothering me. I’d read enough history books to know what flu epidemics did in these times. When my life ever got back to normal, if it ever did, I was going straight to the doctor for all the vaccinations they didn’t give anymore, like smallpox and polio. Boy was that going to be interesting to explain.
Ringo gave me a dazzling smile, one a fifteen-year-old kid shouldn’t be allowed to have in his repertoire. “You make things interesting, Saira. And I like you. You’re not like other girls. You know how to do things and you’re not scared of much.”
That was high praise from a kid who had basically raised himself. I grinned and pushed him in the shoulder. “Careful. You’re starting to sound a little sappy.”
He grimaced. “I’ll leave that to Archer. But if he doesn’t marry you, give me a few years to make my fortune and I will.” My mouth dropped open, and thankfully Ringo didn’t see it because Archer arrived just then. I didn’t think he was kidding. At least he didn’t laugh or grin like usual when he was being a punk.
Weirdly, the back-handed marriage proposal made me respect Ringo even more. He was thinking about his future and what he wanted from it. That was way more than I’d ever done, and I suddenly felt much younger than my seventeen years.
Archer looked at us both expectantly. “Ready to go?”
“Lead the way.”
Lord Devereaux’s apartment wasn’t far from King’s College, but it might as well have been a whole other world. I looked up at the grand Georgian building and shook my head. “I can’t stay here.”
Archer stared at me. “Why not?”
“I’d stick out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood.” I remembered the slang. “I don’t fit in. I’m not money enough to be a guest and not outfitted to be a servant, at least from what I’ve seen. And there’s no way Ringo could get in and out of that place without being questioned by everyone he met.”
Ringo looked startled. “I wouldn’t be staying here, I have my own digs down by the river.”
I turned to him. “Can I stay there with you?”
Both guys looked positively pale at the thought. I was so over Victorian modesty. “Okay, look. You can’t think of me as a girl, because to outside eyes, I’m not. And we’re friends, so I don’t think you’re going to suddenly try to ravage me in the middle of the night.”
If it was possible to lose all color in their skin, both of them did. I tried not to laugh, but really, the twin expressions of horror on their faces were way too funny.
“And besides, I’d probably win the fight if you did.” I did burst out laughing then, because Ringo went bright red and Archer’s shock finally shifted to amusement.
“She’s right about that, you know.”
I felt a little sorry for Ringo since I’d just insulted him, but really, they were being ridiculous. I decided to hit him in his pride to get my way.
“That is, of course, unless where you sleep is just too gross.”
Ringo looked at me with suspicion. “Gross?”
“Disgusting. Flea-ridden. Filthy with bedbugs. Gross.”
Ringo puffed up like a stuffy Brit. “I certainly do not live in filth, nor are there any fleas or bedbugs allowed in my flat. In fact, it’s cleaner than the room you’ve been living in, and bigger, too.”
“Good. Then it’ll be perfect.”
“It’s not proper for you to stay with me. It’s just not done.”
I started walking away from the big Georgian house, back toward the river and the neighborhoods I was becoming familiar with. I was definitely much more comfortable blending in as a guy in those parts of the city, and despite the dark alleys and criminal element that lurked in the shadows, I somehow felt less exposed in the places where people were too busy worrying about their own survival to pay much attention to me.
Archer and Ringo caught up with me a few moments later. They’d obviously taken the time to have a private chat. “I’ll give you my flat, Saira, and I’ll find another place to sleep.”
I turned to Ringo. “Not a chance. I won’t stay there if you go. It’s your home.”
Ringo and Archer exchanged a look, so I pulled them both into my gaze. “Look, guys. I know I’m an inconvenience, and like I was telling Ringo before, hanging out with me is potentially hazardous to your health.” In more ways than you could know, I thought to myself as I interrupted Archer’s protest. “No, listen. I know I’m already asking the world, but I can also admit that I need your help, and I’m learning how to put my pride away to ask for it.”
I looked them both in the eyes. “And here I go, asking for more help. I need a place to stay, for just as long as it takes to find my mother. I’ll stay out of your business and try not to bother you-“
Ringo interrupted. “It’s not that you’d be a bother. But how could you ever look your mother in the eye again after staying in my flat?”
That surprised me. I thought it was all about what was proper for them. He was actually thinking about my reputation, and again, I was impressed. I smiled at him. “My mother trusts me.” I actually wasn’t sure how true that was, given that she’d never told me my true nature, but I plowed on. “In my time, guys and girls live together as roommates all the time. They go to school together, they work together, they even play sports together. So the only weird thing to me about staying with a fifteen-year-old guy is the fact that that fifteen-year-old has his own place.”
Playing on his pride worked, and I could see Ringo’s arguments fall. But when I looked at Archer there was a different expression playing on his face. Maybe envy? Maybe jealousy? I wasn’t sure, but I thought it was ridiculous for him to be jealous of a kid. Even if that kid had basically proposed half an hour before.
“So if you’ll give me a piece of your floor to sleep on, I’d be very grateful, Ringo.”
“I have a chair that I’ll be very comfortable in while you take the bed, of course.”
I grinned. I’d won. “It would be my honor. Thank you.”
Archer said nothing, but he seemed to walk a little closer to me than my masquerade required, and he brushed my arm or bumped me slightly with nearly every step we took. For having spent my first seventeen years with total blinders on, I was starting to learn a lot about people.
Ringo led us back down to the Thames. He lived very close to where I’d first encountered him, by the London Bridge. We turned down an alley and he opened a door into a dark hallway. It was the back entrance into some sort of office or business. As soon as the door closed, Ringo opened a closet and stepped inside. There were a few coats hanging on the rack, but he slipped between them.
“Close the door behind you when you come in, would you?” His voice was just above a whisper when he spoke and I had the impression that his apartment was not strictly sanctioned.
There was a ladder at the back of the coat closet and he climbed it with ease. The space at the top of the ladder was huge, like an attic with one room the size of the entire floor below it. Ringo was right, it was much bigger than the tower room at King’s College. The space reminded me a little of the great room in our Venice loft. Dormer windows would bring in the light during the day, and there was a seating arrangement of chairs and a table at one end. A twin bed, tightly made, was positioned under a window, and a bathtub was oddly, fantastically placed in the middle of the room.
Ringo noticed my eyes on it. “I get water from the cistern on the roof and heat it over there.”
He indicated a small hearth in a tall chimney at one end of the room. Wood was stacked neatly next to it, with a kettle and a cast-iron pot placed carefully on either side. In fact that entire space was very neat and tidy, with everything carefully in place.
“This is cool!”
Ringo suddenly looked a little stricken. “If you’re cold I have extra blankets. I don’t usually light a fire at night because the firelight is too obvious through the windows.”
“I didn’t mean I’m cold, I meant… I really like your flat.”
Archer arrived at the top of the ladder and looked around in surprise. Ringo lit a small lantern in a windowless corner of the room, and I could tell he was proud of his home.
“Ringo, I’m stunned. I had no idea you lived this well. I apologize for ever thinking otherwise.” It was kind of a pompous thing to say, but Archer spoke with such frank admiration that Ringo was disarmed. He shrugged.
“I found this place a couple years ago, when the blokes sent me in through the upper window. The accountants downstairs have no idea about the attic which suits me just fine. And as you can see, Saira, not a beastie in sight.” He was right, the place was virtually spotless.
“I learned a long time ago that if I left food out the beasties would come. And since I’m not an official resident of the building I didn’t like to think of anyone poking about looking for the source of an infestation.”
Archer smiled. “Wise beyond your years, Ringo.” He turned to me. “Saira, are you sure you’ll be okay here?” I kind of liked that he seemed so worried.
“I’m fine. And I really appreciate everything you guys are doing for me. Thank you.” His eyes never left mine and my stomach threatened to backflip with the intensity of it. Finally he nodded and included Ringo in his gaze.
“Where shall we meet tomorrow?”
“I’m working with Gosford in the morning and was going down to the newspaper office after lunch to see about any responses to the adverts.”
“And Saira, what will you do in the morning?”
“I want to go to Bedlam.”
Both guys stared at me. I seem to be fairly good at horrifying them.
“Whatever for?” Archer was the first to speak and his voice broke on the words.
“I found my mother’s name on the sign-in sheet for September 29th and I want to know why. I also want to make sure Will Shaw is still alive.”
Archer looked like he’d just seen a ghost. “You can’t.”
“Why not?”
“He’s… he’s…”
“A murderer? I know. But I want to talk to him.”
“No.”
I couldn’t believe he could stand there and think I’d actually let him tell me what I could and couldn’t do. I narrowed my eyes. “Archer Devereaux. I will be going to Bethlem Hospital tomorrow and not one thing you can do or say will stop me.” His eyes were locked on mine and I could see Ringo looking from one to the other of us like he was taking bets on who would hit first.
I didn’t even blink, and Archer, to his credit, knew he was beaten. He sighed and rubbed his temples. “Good Lord,” he said under his breath, then finally looked at me again. “I’ll meet you outside at Nancy’s Steps at ten. Borrow a cap if you can.”
He turned to go with barely a nod at Ringo and not a single other glance for me. I’d pissed him off, and I told myself I didn’t care. But I wished he’d looked at me to say goodbye.
Ringo gave me some cold water and a towel to wash with while he rigged a sheet around the bed to give me privacy. I tried to protest that he’d seen me in my underwear when I was sick but he set his jaw and ignored me.
When he had partitioned the room to his satisfaction, he grabbed an extra blanket from a trunk and curled up in a soft-looking armchair to sleep.
I watched Ringo from a break in the curtain for a while. He actually looked a little angelic in the dim moonlight. And I could see the promise of handsomeness his face held, with broad cheekbones and a strong jaw. According to Ava’s vision I would go back home with my mother, intact, but not unscathed. I hoped with all my heart that the sadness I went back with had nothing to do with Ringo.
I didn’t go to Bedlam the next day or the next day after that. I could barely crack my eyelids open when Ringo shook me awake. “What time is it?” My voice was back to croaking and Ringo looked worried.
“It’s after noon. I’ve been to work and the newspaper office already. Didn’t you meet Archer at ten?”
I tried to sit up and failed miserably. Ringo eased me back down to the pillow, looking more and more worried. “I think maybe I overdid it last night.”
“I think perhaps you did.” He went over to a pitcher and poured me a mug of water. He had to hold it for me to drink because I needed both arms to push myself upright so I wouldn’t spill.
Archer’s voice called quietly into the room. “Ringo? Saira?”
“We’re here.” The sheets Ringo had rigged for privacy were still draped around the bed and Archer stopped outside them. “What’s happening?”
Ringo pushed the sheet aside and looked up at Archer. “I found her like this.” Archer rushed forward and put his warm hand on my head. His touch felt good. I closed my eyes and sank back down to my pillow.
“I
’m just really tired, that’s all.” I was annoyed at the croak, but it was already better than before.
“She doesn’t seem to have a fever again. I waited for you until 10:30 and then thought you might have gone to Bethlem alone, so I went there.”
“Did you see Will Shaw?”
He shook his head. “When I didn’t find your name on the visitor’s sign-in list I came here. I’m glad I did.”
I looked at Ringo. “Were there any responses to our ads?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. But they’ve only been out since this morning. If anyone’s seen either woman, we should hear about it by the time the office closes.”
Archer checked his pocket watch. It was the gesture I’d hated the most when I first met him because it reminded me so forcefully that I was not in my own time. If I ever had a chance to come back here again, I’d bring the man a wristwatch. “I have to get back to the college. I’m teaching one of the bishop’s classes this afternoon.”
“Have you seen him?” I could barely keep the fear out of my voice even talking about him.
Archer shook his head. “There was a note with the Head of House that I should take his biblical literature class today. Usually one of his other graduate students takes it, but apparently he’s ill.”
“Biblical literature? Like, the bible as a work of fiction?”
Archer grinned. “The bishop would have you drawn and quartered for saying that. But essentially, yes. It’s one of my favorites to teach, though I don’t often get to. The students apparently get too inquisitive about fact vs. fiction after one of my seminars.”
“My mother read the bible to me when I was small.”
Archer and I turned to stare at Ringo. “The whole thing?”
Ringo shrugged. “I don’t know. I never learned to read for myself because she died before she could teach me.”
“I can teach you, if you want.” I said it without thinking. But the way Ringo’s eyes lit up at the idea told me I’d figure it out, no matter what.
“You would? Really?”
“I could teach you, too. Perhaps in the evenings when Saira’s tired?” Another point for Archer. He was learning.