“Not coming!” Tobias yelled.
“Shh.”
Tobias heard a door open, and put his eye to a peephole. He watched his Ma hurry down the steps with a suitcase in hand. Maddie was on her heels, carrying another suitcase.
Tobias’s nostrils flared. He didn’t want to leave. His telescope wouldn’t even fit in a suitcase. Frantically, he snatched a folding knife from his pocket, and began carving a message on the wall.
“Tobias White, if you don’t come out of there right this instant, I’ll—” His mother cut off. What would she do? Take away his dessert. His telescope? Give him more chores?
Tobias kept carving.
“Toby,” she continued in a softer voice. “There’ll be men after us soon. After Grimm and me. You can stay here if you like, but we have to leave.”
Tobias stared at the door in horror. His ma sounded defeated. Either leave his family or leave Ravenwood Manor? It wasn’t right to make him choose.
Footsteps faded, and he cast around for something more. Some hint to leave… But what? He didn't know where they were headed. He never knew.
Tobias clenched his jaw as he carved out one more message. There. That would do it. He stabbed his knife into the wall with all the force he could muster, then scrambled out to catch his family.
67
The Tempest
Isobel stirred in the water and lifted her head to get her bearings. No land. Where was the land? A seal popped up to stare at her with large dark eyes. It looked afraid. Of her?
The seal disappeared, and she let the current take her. Then she started to sink. And that was pleasant, too. Salt water caressed her lips as the ocean embraced her, its calming scent a drug she ached to inhale.
It was so very peaceful.
She frowned, squinting at the blue skies with their lazy clouds and drifting birds. Where was the howling wind and thunder of waves?
Where was the tempest?
This wasn’t right.
Soon, the sun beat down on her. Her lips were parched, her tongue swollen. She needed to find her boat. At that thought, Isobel jerked in the water, but her arms didn’t obey, and although her legs kicked, she sank.
Something pulled at her from the darkness—a tentacle from the ocean deep, tugging her downwards. Isobel fought, clawing her way to the surface until she broke the water, gasping in air. The sun. So relentless.
She started swimming and kept at it long into the night. The water turned icy, her limbs filled with lead. Then it grew hot until she was dizzy with thirst. And still she swam, through another day and night. A light appeared on the horizon. Wind howled, waves surged, slapping her face, and in the fury of a storm she heard a call.
Bel.
What an odd name. But it gave her strength; it gave her purpose. The waves parted, the wind died for a second, and she glimpsed a snatch of red sails. Her boat.
Isobel swam for her life, only now realizing the danger she was in. How had she let herself drift so far away? She struggled and fought and swam into another long night.
Then her hand slapped wood.
As waves pounded her against the hull, she clawed at the boat, but the wood was slick with algae. She hadn’t the strength to climb aboard. There was nothing left. She started to sink, her fingers gouging the hull.
A hand grabbed hers. It was real. She focused on that touch, palm against palm, and used it to pull herself out of the sea.
Isobel opened her eyes. Her lips were cracked, her tongue swollen. And the pain… God, the pain. Every breath was agony.
White all around. Murmuring voices. The sting of disinfectant. A hospital.
The hand was real, still clutching her own. She looked down her body—covered by white blankets—and saw a head of black hair with a wing of white at the temple.
Riot had his forehead pressed to their clasped hands.
“Sarah?” she tried to ask, but her lips barely moved. Instead she squeezed his hand.
Riot lifted his head, mist shadowing his sunken eyes. “Bel?” he whispered.
She certainly hoped so.
“Sarah?” Her question emerged as a rasp this time.
A light chased the shadows from Riot’s eyes. “She’s fine, Bel. Sarah is fine. Her ankle is on the mend.”
Isobel closed her eyes. It must have been some time later when she opened them again, because the room was dark. A light flickered somewhere in a corner.
Riot looked better too. He sat in a chair, holding her hand, and when she looked at him, he smiled.
“Your beard,” she said. She tried to reach for his face, but the pain nearly sent her spiraling into the dark. He bent down to rub a cheek against the back of her hand. It was rough like sandpaper.
“It was gone… wasn’t it?”
“It’s been a week,” he said.
Her mind was sluggish, and it took a worrying amount of time to make sense of his words. She tried to swallow.
Riot used a cloth to drip water onto her lips. She wanted more, but couldn’t very well grab the pitcher from him. “I was drifting,” she whispered. Riot bent closer to hear. “On a sea with no boat. There was a seal.”
“Don’t drift away again, my love.”
She stared into his eyes. Rich like chocolate, full of warmth, and something more that made her eyes water. “I’m on my boat now.”
“Good.”
The next time she awoke, she was more aware. Of pain.
“God, I should have followed that damn seal,” she croaked, trying to find a better position. But when she moved, her rib cage made a grinding noise.
Riot put a hand on her arm. “A moment.” He left, then returned with a doctor, who injected her with something that made her float again. Not as far as she wished, but it helped.
“A seal?” Riot asked, settling back in a chair.
“It kept popping up to stare at me.”
“Was it dancing with fairy wings?”
Isobel frowned. “I don’t remember. Maybe?” She fought past a wave of pain to peek under her blanket. A thick padding of bandages circled her torso. “What happened?”
“What do you remember?”
“That’s an unfair question, Riot.”
“At least you recall my name.”
“Smart ass, wasn’t it?”
The edge of his lip twitched upwards. Then he told her everything that happened after she lost consciousness.
“Sarah’s shot skewed his aim. His bullet hit at an angle, punched through a steel stay in your corset, and got cozy with your ribs…” He took a steadying breath. “Surgeons had a time digging out the bullet. They removed some sharp bits of bone, too. It was the fever that nearly did you in.”
Isobel barely heard the last part. She was busy trying to make sense of his case summary. “Jin was watching the house this entire time?”
“I told you she and Tobias were up to something.”
“I thought the seal looked familiar,” she murmured.
Riot was looking down at her, one side of his lip raised, as he tucked the hair away from her face.
“You’ve been here this entire time, haven’t you?”
“Much to everyone’s dismay,” he admitted.
“If you changed my bedpan, I will divorce you.”
Despite himself, Riot laughed, then started shaking with it. “I left the bathing and bedpans to the nurses,” he assured.
“That’s fortunate.” Isobel fell quiet as he ran his fingers through her hair, tracing the contours of her scalp. His touch nearly lulled her back to sleep, but she latched onto a sudden thought. “The maid,” she whispered.
“Safe.”
“You knew?”
“From what Sarah told me, it seems we took two different roads to the same destination.”
“How silly of us.”
“I agree.”
She listened as he filled in the gaps of the investigation. Sakura was recovering, her baby was safe. Freddie was dead. Not by Sarah’s bullet, thank God, but
from an overdose of laudanum, according to the coroner’s report.
“How’s Sarah?” She wasn’t asking after her physical health.
“She’s far too practical to worry over shooting a man, but she’s sick with guilt that you got shot.”
“She saved my life. He would’ve killed me and taken—” Isobel couldn’t finish the thought.
“I know.”
But guilt rarely gave way to logic.
“Mr. and Mrs. Noble stuck to their story that they thought you were a thief, with Sarah being your accomplice. They said they would have called the police but discovered the telephone had been destroyed, which they also blamed on you.”
Isobel snorted, then regretted it when her ribs shifted.
“I aimed Father Caraher and your mother at the so-called house of charity that the Knights of Chastity fund. Dollie is now the caretaker, and… I think the Nymphia will finally be closed for good.”
“You sound like that’s a bad thing,” she noted.
He sighed. “The women there still have to make a living. If a brothel won’t take them in, they’ll be picked up by a pimp on the street or find themselves in a mining camp.”
“You can’t save them all, Riot.”
“I can’t seem to stop trying.”
“That’s what I love about you.”
68
A Tidy Bow
It was a rare day that Riot slipped away to rest; it had taken her mother to convince him to leave her bedside. Isobel worried about him. He was looking gaunt of late.
Time had lost meaning under the electric lights. She didn’t much care about day or night, or the date in general. She supposed it was a new year. And her time in the hospital was becoming tedious.
Riot had brought in a chess set, and she stared at the little figurines without seeing them. Instead, the frantic minutes of her standoff with Freddie kept spinning in her mind. Of Sarah. And the gun held to her head.
So it was a welcome interruption when Lotario poked his head into the room. He arched a brow. “Aren’t you the picture of feminine fragility.”
“I’ll kill you.”
He grinned. “I’ve brought a visitor. I thought you’d like to tie up loose ends.”
Isobel frowned in puzzlement. Then Lotario stepped aside, and Katherine Hayes glided into the room with her ‘butler’ who was dressed in immaculate silk robes. He had his hands tucked into wide sleeves.
Katherine lifted a black veil, revealing her face. She was quite beautiful, and made Isobel feel like an unwashed heathen. Maybe Riot had left because he couldn’t stand to look at her sickly self anymore.
“I’d get up, Miss Hayes, but…”
“Please don’t, Mrs. Riot,” the woman said, taking a seat. Lotario moved to the other side of the bed, and Mr. Chang stepped behind Katherine.
“When I asked you to investigate, I had no way of knowing how dangerous it would prove.”
“It’s part of the business,” Isobel said.
Katherine leaned forward. “Tell me… did Freddie really murder Dominic?”
“Yes.”
“But why?”
“Because Dominic Noble lived up to his name. Your fiancé died trying to protect his sister, his family, and a maid of no consequence.”
Katherine sat back. “I knew he’d never—” She cut off. It never had to be spoken of again.
“Everything you said about Dominic is true, Miss Hayes. Your faith in him. Your… love. He was the best of men. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to know him before his death.”
Lotario sat down on the edge of her bed. She didn’t look at her twin, but she could feel his emotion. He was struggling. She knew if she touched him, he’d crack. So she gave Katherine a succinct report of everything that happened.
“Oh, Dominic…” Katherine whispered when Isobel finished. Mr. Chang placed a hand on Katherine’s shoulder. “The woman. Sakura. Where is she?”
“Under the care of a Dr. Wise, on the edge of Chinatown.”
Katherine looked up at the man behind her. They shared a silent conversation that Isobel knew well. She and Lotario communicated in such a way. Her own parents did it. She and Riot did as well.
Mr. Chang inclined his head, ever so slightly.
Katherine turned back. “I should like to meet this woman. There will be a place for her in my household, if she wishes.”
“That is generous of you,” Lotario said. “I’ll arrange it.”
Katherine removed an envelope from her handbag, and stood. “Your payment.”
Isobel accepted it. With tears brimming in her eyes, Katherine lowered her veil and left, and Mr. Chang paused to offer a deep bow before following.
Isobel heard a sniff at her side and found her twin dabbing at his eyes. “I’m sorry, Ari.”
“And here I asked you not to investigate at all.”
“It was fortunate I did.”
He cocked his head.
“Is my bodice still here?”
“Yes, what’s left of it…” He rummaged through a trunk. “Atticus had them bag everything for evidence in case Mr. Noble pressed charges.”
“Good. Look in the lining of my bodice.”
He searched through her bloody clothing while she tore open the envelope. They gasped as one. Isobel at the check and Lotario at the postcard of himself.
“Where did you find this?” he asked.
“Dominic’s room. It was tucked behind a photograph.”
He was staring at the message on the back, and she motioned him closer lest their voices traveled. “It’s from Katherine.”
He blinked. “Are you sure?”
Isobel showed him the check so he could compare the handwriting. Lotario was too stricken to bat a lash over the sum she’d paid them. “She knew about Dominic…” he trailed off, sitting back on the bed.
Isobel placed a hand over his.
“I don’t understand,” Lotario murmured. “Katherine knew he preferred men, but still agreed to marry him—even encouraged him to see me.”
“Yes,” Isobel said, waiting for her twin to make the connection.
“Do you suppose Katherine is sapphic?”
“Good God, Ari, have you gone daft?”
“It appears so.”
“She’s in love with Mr. Chang.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I took the girls along when I interviewed her. While I was speaking with Katherine, Jin sneaked into the study and saw that the desk was being used. There was tea there. Mr. Hayes, her father, was away on business. Jin noted that Mr. Chang acted as an equal, not a servant. I thought little of it at the time, but when I found that postcard… by the way you look extraordinary.”
“I know,” he said, fanning himself with the naked postcard of himself.
“Any road, I put two and two together. Dominic needed to marry, or he’d lose his inheritance. And I suspect Katherine wanted to avoid society gossip about her and Mr. Chang. A union in this state, between Chinese and whites, is illegal. Dr. Wise and his own wife were married in New York where it’s legal, but here they’re living in sin and could be charged on a whim.”
“A marriage of convenience,” Lotario mused. “The amount of trust that takes… Well, it’s frightening.”
“Dominic and Katherine must have loved each other a great deal, as friends.” Sadness crept into her words, and she felt suddenly crushed by it all. “It’s tragic for anyone needing to hide their feelings.”
“Well,” Lotario mused, tapping his lips. “I knew a man who was enamored with his sheep…”
“Ari. Don’t. I don’t want to know.”
“Yes, we must draw the line somewhere.”
“Somewhere,” she muttered in agreement.
Lotario plucked the check out of her hand. “I believe this is mine.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry,” he said, giving it a straightening tug. “You’ll be paid hourly wages, and I’ll toss in a hazard bonus.”
&nbs
p; “I hate you.”
Lotario smiled. “This nearly makes up for you almost dying.”
She leaned over to look at the figure again. “It does, doesn’t it?”
“Never do that again!” he snapped.
“Rescue Sarah?”
“No.” He gestured sharply. “I mean, yes. But don’t get shot. God, you didn’t even get shot properly.”
“What on earth, Ari?” She gestured at her wounded side. “I’ll be lucky if I can ever raise a mainsail again.”
“You’re lucky to be alive, Bel.” Then he pulled her into a hug that hurt, but she savored the pain. It was easier than feeling his.
He pulled away to blow his nose, which she was thankful for, because it was that or her hospital gown.
“You got shot in the wrong place. We have mismatched scars now.”
Isobel stared at him. “Really?”
“Do you know the trouble I’ll have replicating the horrid amount of scarring on your side? Do you realize how much longer it will take us to swap places?”
“The scarring is under my breast, Ari. You can’t show off my breasts when you impersonate me.”
“Yes, but I’ll know.”
Lotario spotted a familiar figure at the nurse’s desk on his way out.
“Mr. Taft.”
“Mr. Amsel.” The old cowboy looked embarrassed without his hat. His gray hair was plastered to his head.
“I hope this lawman is treating you well, Miss Dawson.” Lotario favored the nurse with a smile, her pale cheeks blossoming with color.
“He was just asking after your sister.”
“Oh?”
“I came to pay my respects,” Liam said. “How is Mrs. Riot?”
“Sleeping,” Lotario said, turning to Miss Dawson. “I don’t think she should be disturbed anymore today.” He gave the nurse a pointed look.
“Of course not.”
“Hard to find rest after a gunshot like that,” Liam noted.
Miss Dawson pretended to check her logbook.
“Ah, the power of a badge.” Lotario gestured at the one pinned to Liam’s vest. “I imagine they loosen tongues.”
Beyond the Pale Page 38