Trafalgar Boone and the Children of the Burnt Empire

by Geonn Cannon

  “Only that I make myself available to her at some future date. I would of course take the debt upon myself, since I’m the one who received the offer to begin with.”

  Abraham said, “Well, if we all benefit from the money, then we should share the risk equally.”

  Leonard nodded. “Agreed.”

  Cecil ran a hand through his hair. “Well, maybe we can wait until we know what the favor is before we jump in with both feet, eh?”

  “That’s more than fair,” Dorothy said.

  “How long do we have to decide?” Cora asked.

  Agnes said, “And does our answer need to be unanimous?”

  “A majority should be fine,” Leonard said. “Dorothy is willing to take on the risk. So even if a nay vote is outnumbered, the only consequence is they benefit from the money.”

  Cora said, “So we won’t require a consensus, but those who vote ‘aye’ will share the burden of answering this Lennox woman’s call. There’s no reason Dorothy must shoulder it herself.”

  Dorothy nodded her thanks to Cora, who dipped her head in acknowledgement.

  “We don’t need to vote immediately. I’ve no idea when Miss Lennox will reappear, but I’m certain we can at least sleep on it.”

  There was a knock on the door. Everyone turned to look at it, then refocused on Dorothy.

  “Then again, perhaps she’s the impatient sort.”

  Leonard was closest, so he stood and answered the knock. Standing on the other side was no Riya Lennox, but a man Dorothy hadn’t seen before. A quick survey of the room indicated that everyone else was just as confused about who he was.

  “My apologies,” Leonard said, “but this isn’t actually a working pub.”

  “Oh, I’m aware. I’m not looking for a drink. I was told I would find the Nemo-scene Society here.”

  “Ne-mah-se-ne,” Dorothy corrected. “May I ask how you came across that information?”

  He fumbled in his coat pocket and produced a newspaper clipping. It had been folded so many times that the creases looked soft and ready to break apart. “I read about the drowned necropolis you discovered, and I’ve been following the progress of other expeditions looking to continue the research you started. I thought perhaps I could engage your services. May I come in?”

  Leonard looked at Dorothy, who nodded her approval. She looked toward the empty space where she believed Ivy had last been standing.

  “Keep an eye on him, Ms. Sever,” Dorothy said under her breath.

  “Already doing it,” Ivy said, much closer than Dorothy expected her to be.

  The stranger came inside and offered his hand to Leonard. “Bertram Rees,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  Leonard shook his hand. “Leonard Keeping. My wife, Agnes.” He completed the introductions, gesturing to each person in turn. He hesitated before naming Ivy, and Dorothy gave a quick negative shake of her head. “And lastly, the woman responsible for bringing us all together: the Lady Dorothy Boone.”

  “Hello, Mr. Rees,” Dorothy said.

  “Charmed.” He turned slightly, presenting his face to Leonard and Cecil while Dorothy was looking at his shoulder. “Thank you for agreeing to see me. I wasn’t certain of the etiquette in this sort of matter. I couldn’t find any information about whether you took appointments, or how one would set one up if you did.”

  “It’s quite all right,” Dorothy said. “You’re fortunate to find us all gathered tonight.”

  “Mm,” he said, glancing in her direction before focusing on the men again.

  Dorothy stifled a sigh. This was to be expected, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. Leonard looked at Dorothy as if he wanted to press the issue, but she gave a quick shake of her head. No sense in making a scene unless it became necessary.

  “I represent the Royal Geographical Society. Two years ago, we commissioned a cartographer named Captain Felix Neville to find a mythical river called the Pratear. The expedition maintained their correspondence until about a year ago, when we stopped receiving updates from them. We believed they may have simply moved into an area where they weren’t able to send messages, but the more time passed, the more concerned we became. After six months, we began debating our options.”

  Dorothy picked up Abraham’s beer glass. He watched her but said nothing as she carried it to Rees. He was still addressing the men in the room. She placed the glass near his right hand.

  “Oh, thank you,” he muttered.

  “My pleasure.” She stepped around him and returned to her spot by the bar.

  He resumed his speech. “Several of us believed it would be best to cut our losses. Simply move on to the next commission. But the majority of us have faith that Neville and his men are still alive and merely lost or too deep into their expedition to bother with correspondence. If we were to move on, we may be leaving them stranded when they finally do reappear. We asked around and it would seem the men in this room comprise the best explorers London has to offer. A vote was taken and the group decided that you would be our last resort. We will fund an expedition for you to follow in Neville’s footsteps to see if you can uncover his fate.”

  “We’ll do it.”

  Rees looked at Dorothy in a way that proved she stopped existing in his mind when she wasn’t speaking. He smiled and looked almost bashful.

  “With all due respect - Lady Boone, wasn’t it? - I suspect the gentlemen would like a bit more information before making their decision.”

  “I have all the information I need.” Dorothy held up the small book she’d been perusing while he spoke. “Your man, Neville, departed from London two years ago aboard the HMS Herald. They arrived at Belém, Brazil, where a local guide escorted them into the rainforest.” She put the journal down again and thumbed through the pages. “I appreciate the summarization of Neville’s letters back home, but I would like to have the originals so I can examine them while traveling to South America.”

  Rees stared at the book, then pressed a hand against the pocket of his suit jacket. “How did--?”

  “When she gave you the drink,” Trafalgar said, smirking proudly.

  “You stole from me?”

  Dorothy looked at him, the picture of innocence. “Well, I can’t take all the blame, Mr. Rees. You’re the one who rendered me invisible. I simply took advantage.”

  Rees looked around the room as if he expected someone to reprimand her. Instead he saw only unmasked amusement. Cora touched a knuckle to the corner of her eye, and Beatrice was smiling at Dorothy with what she could only categorize as arousal. He clearly deduced who was truly in charge from their reactions and turned so he was facing her fully.

  “I see. Lady Boone.”

  “Yes?”

  “I apologize for my assumption. I meant no disrespect.”

  Dorothy said, “Apology accepted.” She closed the journal. “And I apologize for taking the journal without permission, but it seemed the best way to expedite the process. As I said, we accept your proposition on the basis we come to acceptable terms. Compensation, for instance.”

  “Of course,” Rees said.

  “You may discuss those matters with Miss Trafalgar and the Keepings. If we come to an accord, we’ll begin planning our expedition as soon as possible. As for the original letters from Neville and his team...?”

  “I’ll have them forwarded to... to your address, Lady Boone.”

  She smiled sweetly. “Beatrice, please make sure Mr. Rees has the proper address.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Beatrice said.

  Beatrice’s tone made certain parts of Dorothy flush and quake. She composed herself before speaking again.

  “In the meantime, I’ll keep the journal to begin forming our plan of action.”

  “Ah, very... very well. The RGS thanks you for your assistance in this matter. We’ll be in touch.”

  He made his farewells, arranged a time and place where he could talk logistics with Trafalgar and Leonard, and made a hasty
escape back into the evening. Leonard closed the door behind him and smiled at Dorothy.

  “You are a caution.”

  “I prefer to think of myself as a walking education for those who might require one.” She caught Trafalgar’s eye and tapped the cover of the journal. “You should take a look at this as well. I assume you’ll be accompanying me on the trip.”

  Trafalgar said, “It would be my honor. Who else will be coming with us?”

  Abraham held his hands up, palm-out. “Equatorial rainforest? Not for me. But have fun with the bugs and snakes, ladies.”

  Ivy’s voice came from near the door. “I think it goes without saying that I’m staying here. I’m a local girl. Wouldn’t know what to do in the world.”

  “I’m afraid at our age,” Agnes Keeping said, “we would be more of a hindrance than a benefit. Quite a shame. I’ve never been to Brazil.”

  “Of course you have,” Leonard said. “Six days on the Amazon River. Although you can be forgiven for not remembering where we were.”

  She smiled sweetly at him. “That wasn’t me, dear.”

  He looked at her and then his face blanched. “Oh. Of course.”

  Agnes laughed and poked the tip of her husband’s nose.

  Cora Hyde said, “I believe the time has come for me to return to the field. My skills as a linguist could prove invaluable with the local tribes. If you’re willing to have me, of course.”

  “Always,” Dorothy said. Cora had remained in country for the past few years after a tragic expedition which ended in the unexplained death of her entire team. She’d spent that time brushing up on her mythology, history, and language skills. When she finally checked herself out of the mental hospital, she had seemed robust and revitalized, even if her dark hair had a few more streaks of premature silver than before. If she believed herself ready for another outing, Dorothy would consider herself lucky to have her.

  Cecil said, “Sounds like this is turning into a trip for ladies only. Not that it would be dull, but I suppose I should bow out as well.”

  Abraham snorted. “As if you could handle the rainforest any better than me. Don’t blame gender, you’re staying because you hate to be uncomfortable.”

  Cecil raised his glass. “Don’t hate me for what I am.”

  Leonard looked at Dorothy. “So once again, it seems the heavy lifting of the Mnemosyne Society will be undertaken by Trafalgar and Boone.”

  “We’re sticking with her name first...?” Dorothy asked.

  “You object?” Trafalgar said.

  “No, no. Just making sure. It has a certain ring to it.”

  Trafalgar grinned. “I have to agree. Besides, it isn’t as if we’re printing up business cards.”

  “Right.” Dorothy gently lobbed the journal to Trafalgar, who caught it easily. “We’ll get to work reading up on Mr. Felix Neville. And all of us will take the time to consider Riya Lennox’s generous offer to fund our work. And I believe that will be the end of a very productive meeting. Any objections?”

  No one did. Dorothy rapped her knuckles on the bar top.

  “Meeting adjourned.”

  Chapter Three

  Riya Lennox was true to her word on at least one count: there was no evidence the woman even existed. Cecil and the Keepings had used their contacts to see what they could discover about her. During the two weeks Dorothy and Trafalgar arranged their trip to Brazil, they waited for word. They asked their usual network of ears and whispers to see what they could find out about the mystery woman. Finally the spies came back with a definitive report of... nothing. No woman matching her description, using the name Lennox or otherwise, was recorded in London at any time in the past five years. Agnes Keeping revealed her lack of success in Dorothy’s parlor the day before they were scheduled to set sail. Dorothy took the opportunity to take a break from packing and have tea with her friend in the parlor.

  Agnes revealed, her frustration evident, that she had gone so far as to inquire about immigration records for Indian families. There were many, of course, and a great number of them with daughters, but none were the right age.

  “Perhaps I was off,” Dorothy suggested. She was leaning against the edge of her desk, feet crossed at the ankles and arms folded casually over her stomach. “I could have guessed her age wrong. Perhaps five years, even ten...”

  “Unless the woman you saw was a mature ten or a very well-preserved ninety-one, I doubt it.” Agnes shrugged. She was sitting on the divan near the window, half-turned so she could see the doorway in her periphery. “A woman with the means she purports to have shouldn’t be this difficult to find.”

  Dorothy said, “Or perhaps she uses those means to ensure she remains in the shadows.”

  Agnes considered that, then nodded. “We’ll keep up our efforts while you ladies are on your mission. But I warn you to anticipate disappointment.”

  “I consider myself warned.” Dorothy liked the time she spent with Agnes. The older woman reminded her of her grandmother; brave, blunt, and unwilling to take crap from anyone. She refused to let anyone judge her by her age. Anyone who underestimated her was quickly taught the error of their ways. “Have you and Leonard given any more thought to her offer? You need the money less than any of us.”

  Agnes said, “We’re well off, true. But we do prefer to spend someone else’s money whenever possible. That’s the quickest way to stay rich.” She smiled and offered a wink. “I worry about what the eventual cost may be. One can claim charity all day long, but there will always be some string attached. This Lennox woman admitted as much.”

  Dorothy pursed her lips and nodded. “Yes, and quite a large one. I wish we had a way of contacting her, or at least knew how long we had to discuss our options.”

  Agnes finished her tea and stood, placing the cup and saucer on the corner of Dorothy’s desk. “The solution is simple. If this Riya Lennox returns before we’ve come to a final decision, tell her no. Nothing good has ever come from rushing a decision this large.”

  “You are quite right. Thank you, Agnes.”

  “Safe travels, Dorothy. We shall await word of your adventures, as always.”

  Dorothy saw her off and returned to her room to finish packing. The suitcase was where she’d left it on the foot of the bed, but it had been filled in her absence. Beatrice was in the process of closing it when Dorothy caught her.

  “I thought we spoke about you doing menial tasks around the house,” Dorothy scolded gently.

  “We did,” Beatrice said. “We agreed I would only do the things which I chose to do. I wanted to do this because I know your time is short. You and Trafalgar leave tomorrow morning.”

  Dorothy embraced Beatrice from behind and kissed her neck. “Indeed we do.”

  “I think there are better ways to spend the time you have remaining in London.” She took Dorothy’s hands from where they rested on her stomach and guided them lower.

  “You could always come with us.”

  Dorothy made quick work of Beatrice’s belt, then unfastened her trousers. Beatrice straightened her posture as Dorothy’s deft right hand disappeared into the folds of the clothes. She reached back and rested her hands on Dorothy’s hips.

  “My place is here.” Beatrice’s voice was softer with her arousal. “Protecting your home.”

  “I want you at my side.”

  “You want me beneath you.”

  Dorothy smiled. “Yes, occasionally. But in a general sense, you are my right hand.”

  “Lucky hand,” Beatrice said.

  “Yes.” Dorothy nipped Beatrice’s earlobe. “You’ve determined your powers are earth-based. What better place to explore that potential than a rainforest?”

  “What more terrifying place,” Beatrice corrected. She reached down, covering Dorothy’s hand with her own, guiding her movements. “I can feel the power tugging at me even when I’m in the middle of a city. If I venture into the country, it becomes like a church bell ringing just on the other side of a hill. I
shudder to think what might happen if I venture into a completely undeveloped world.”

  Dorothy kissed Beatrice’s hair and moved down to her neck. Her free hand was now at Beatrice’s chest. “I would be there for you,” she promised. “I would catch you if you fell.”

  “You would be there as a potential, inadvertent target.”

  “I’m willing to risk it.”

  “I’m not.” Beatrice was breathing heavily now. “I will remain here, keeping the home fires burning until you return.”

  Dorothy said, “If that is truly what you wish, I will abide by your decision. But I shall miss you terribly.”

  “And I, you. Please, Dorothy...”

  Dorothy rested her cheek against the smooth shoulder of Beatrice’s shirt and finished what she was doing, eyes closed so she could enjoy ever tremble and quiet gasp Beatrice made. Afterward, when Dorothy freed her hand, Beatrice turned to face her. She kissed Dorothy’s lips and touched her hair.

  “Don’t be gone too long, my love.”

  Dorothy turned her head to kiss Beatrice’s palm. “You’ll be in my heart every day. Every evening.”

  “I’d better be. And if you happen to find someone to share your bed, you know that I won’t object. But just to be certain your heart remains with me...” Beatrice nodded toward the suitcase. “I packed a few items to keep my memory fresh, no matter what wild local women may have to offer.”

  “I can’t wait to discover those treasures.” She kissed the corners of Beatrice’s mouth. “Now, since I planned to be packing all afternoon, it would seem I have at least one free hour. Perhaps you can refresh my memory of you in a more concrete manner.”

  Beatrice’s fingers moved to the collar of Dorothy’s blouse. “Let’s see what we can come up with.”

  Dorothy put her hand in the small of Beatrice’s back and allowed herself to be pulled onto the bed, knocking the suitcase out of the way in the process.

  #

  Trafalgar glanced up at the sound of a thud against the floor, but she didn’t let it distract her. Agnes Keeping had left, Dorothy and Beatrice were in the same area of the house, and there was a loud noise. It didn’t require much deduction to conclude what was happening. Her housemates had a... healthy physical appreciation for each other. She was in the study, which was inconveniently located beneath the master bedroom, but she was confident focusing on work would help her ignore any sounds coming from above.