Melissa saw Mary
waiting in the room and apologised. She'd forgotten that when she
disappeared Mary covered by claiming illness on her behalf and was
therefore condemned to remain isolated in her bedroom for the
duration of Melissa's absence.
She quickly took
Phillip home and returned to her own place. Mary had called for the
hot water that was once again stood waiting in the kitchen and begun
preparing the wash stand to treat the worst of Melissa's bruising and
grazes. Prescribing arnica, Mary dressed a few areas but left the
rest as they were. A little facial and hair powder left Melissa
looking interestingly pale, but hid the worst of the bruising. After
all preparation, Melissa insisted on taking Mary into her confidence
before she allowed herself to sleep.
It wasn't fair, she
said, that Mary act with such integrity and effort on Melissa's
behalf without at least knowing why. Leaving the time travel
component out of her story again, Melissa explained the crux of the
issue: that she had been bequeathed a device which could transport
her around the world. She could take other people with her and
currently she was working with the British government to aid their
war efforts. Mary heard her our in silence. She found Melissa's
explanation difficult to accept but conceded to herself that such a
fantastic explanation was either true or, given Melissa's current
state of exhaustion, an unbelievably well crafted fiction.
She decided to
disregard the issue for the time being and focussed instead on
putting Melissa to bed. Murmuring a soothing “there, there” and
other such platitudes, she tucked Melissa into bed and watched her
drift off to sleep.
When she woke, almost
twelve hours later, Melissa was famished. Mary had prepared the
kitchen staff and a well arranged breakfast was placed around the
small dining room where Melissa preferred to eat. Her face was still
pale courtesy of Mary's powder and her thoughts were preoccupied by a
memory of Mary's apparent disbelief and the outcome of her efforts
with Phillip. They had identified with certainty the three men who
had been assigned responsibility for Wellington's assassination and
they had established that only one of the three could possibly be
recalled. The gap in their knowledge was simple: they had discovered
the codename identities of these men and Phillip had some idea of how
they could be tracked down, but they didn't know their real
identities.
She was stationed at
the breakfast table for quite some time with a combination of food,
preoccupation and, eventually, her morning mail keeping her
distracted. When she rose she moved idly into her front sitting room
and called Mary to her. The two women sat for a while quietly
discussing the ramifications of Melissa' revelation the previous
night. Expecting to have to convince Mary, Melissa was surprised to
hear that Mary had been thinking overnight, not of whether Melissa
had been attempting to pull the wool over her eyes, but rather of how
she could more readily cover for her mistress' absences. She made a
few suggestions all of which Melissa considered. She agreed eagerly
to the plan for covering up predicted absences: spontaneous absences
were more tricky as she was known not to have any relatives in the
country who could be taken ill unexpectedly, but Mary pointed out
that her business affairs were known to be so varied that she could
easily be called to the country to investigate something at short
notice. Mary's role would be to determine the likely length of her
absence and the most appropriate journey for Melissa to be taken on
then arrange for her property to be packed up and moved from the
house correspondingly. She would also contrive so that her staff
thought they had seen Melissa leave, rather than have them
questioning sudden disappearances.
When they had finished
their discussions, Mary sat alone gazing into the fire contemplating
how fortunate she had been to discover a companion like Mary who was
ideally suited for her own needs and continued success and survival.
She began to wonder if it was possible that the device did, in fact,
have a personality as Phillip had suggested, and that it was pushing
her towards the exact people she needed to help her.
The rest of that say
she was alone. The next day Francis turned up on her doorstep with a
bouquet of flowers and expressed a hope that she was feeling
healthier. The twinkle in his eye caused a brief guilt to flicker and
she apologised for her sudden disappearance. He, gentleman that he
was, waved away her apologies, explained that he understood how
important it must have been and expressed himself her servant should
he ever be able to help in her future endeavours.
She had never, even in
the early stages, readily taken people into her confidence. Pushed
first by Andy into telling the boys, by necessity into telling
Phillip and by circumstances into telling John, she felt now that her
little band was big enough – she had no reason to mistrust Frank,
but wanted to keep the circle to a minimum. She pressed his hand in
gratitude and the two of them moved onto discussing something else.
His half hour stay was
absolutely correct and proper and his departure was witnessed by many
neighbours and passers by. Unbeknownst to her, his interest had
become more publicly marked and many persons waited in daily
anticipation of seeing a notice in the papers. She was alerted to
that in the afternoon visits, which arrived like a tumult on the
heels of Francis' exit. Several kind and genuine enquiries about her
unexpected indisposition were punctuated with heavy handed
suggestions, nods and winks towards Sir Francis' concern for her.
Melissa blushed deeply
and inside fell into a chaotic panic. She was still fielding
questions when Phillip arrived and her joy at his entrance was not
only witnessed by every female in the room but gave rise to a whole
new level of speculation as to not only who was interested in her but
potentially even who would win her. It didn't escape Melissa and she
wasn't particularly soothed by the gossip. As soon as she was alone,
she called for Mary and begged for a plausible means of scotching the
rumours that she might be on the cusp of marriage to any of the local
gentlemen. Mary simply smiled – she'd been expecting this plea for
some time – and pointed out: “Gentlemen require a wife who can
bear their children. You are known to be sickly. If the nature of
your illness was known to be that you could not bear children, you
would immediately become unmarriageable.”
Mady blinked. Half of
her was up in arms that such a simple thing could immediately write
off the future for so many local women, but the other half pointed
out that if she questioned or fought it, she could no longer take
advantage of it and it was absolutely necessary to her that she
remain unwed. She loved it here, but she expected to leave one day
and marrying a man – particularly one who actively contributed to
the success of the country in any way – would severely mess the
time. Especially if she either produced an heir for him, caused him
to leave when she did or in some other way disrupted his life.
Now it was only her own
needs she had to consider as she determined to make use of Mary's
idea. How was simple – it wouldn't be appropriate for Melissa to
make any kind of statement about bearing children, but Mary would
undoubtedly be approached for gossip about her mistress. Usually she
turned it away in short terms, but if she was clearly worrying about
something a little detail may be let slip. And so it happened two
days later Mary was able to report that she had been retrieving a few
items at the Bazaar for Melissa's linen closet when she had been
approached by the ladies' maid of one Helena DuBrun, a sharp tongued
female of impeccable provenance but suspicious income, who was only
accepted on the fringes of society by a few females who were addicted
to gossip.
The maid engaged with
Mary about the trials of being a ladies maid, to which Mary replied
repressively – as was her usual habit - but in a slightly
preoccupied fashion. Encouraged, the other suggested that it must be
more difficult for Mary given her mistress' frequent bouts of ill
health. Mary responded hotly that her mistress was a good woman who
stood her trials well. “And if,” she cried, “Madam should be
distressed by certain comments of the doctor, that is only to be
expected. She does absolutely nothing,” Mary descended into bare
faced lying, “to cause me trouble or distress. She deserves better
than the hand she has been dealt and she will get the best I can
offer her, which does not include being spiteful or spreading her
personal history to the like of you Millicent Harper!”
As Mary was about to
storm off, Millicent caught her arm and apologised profusely. “I'd
had no notion it was so bad for you to be worriting as you are. I'll
leave you be, but please, you know I weren't trying to upset no-one.
Your mistress is a good woman. We all know what she's doing with the
girls on the streets – them as deserve much worse than what they're
getting from her. You just know I didn't mean no harm.”
Mary sighed heavily. “I
know. Sorry. It just seems so unjust – especially as you say, with
the work she's doing with the girls and their children. She's always
loved children.” Shaking her head, Mary scurried off leaving
Millicent with a dropped jaw and a delighted yet incredulous look on
her face. Within 12 hours, Melissa was the recipient of many a
sympathetic look, many ladies robustly supporting her in her time of
trial and many gentlemen suddenly deciding her wealth wasn't a
sufficient inducement to wed a barren female.
She had never been at
the centre of such mixed signals before and it was a difficult few
hours for her. Francis still took her for a turn about the floor –
all eyes on the two of them as he did so. Once they had finished
their dance, she noticed a gentleman leading him to one side to have
a quiet word and, having done so, she observed his eyebrow quirking
in her direction. Phillip arrived later in the night and took her for
a walk on the terrace to relieve herself from the heat of the room.
There he asked her quietly what the purpose of this ruse was and she
confided her desire to remain unwed to him. She admitted that she
knew there were a variety of reasons why she should be a single
female according to the laws of their society, but she could not
afford any of those to be publicly known. This reason at least,
although it would see her pitied and kept at a distance by certain
men, would not affect her reputation. She had, fortunately, enough
wealth to remain a spinster without difficulty or discomfort, as long
as she had her reputation.
He nodded his
appreciation of her argument and bowed to her before leading her back
into the ballroom and to a small sofa where he left her. Within
minutes she was surrounded by an honour guard and she was deeply
touched by he sincere affection expressed by this group of ladies at
her perceived plight. She eventually retired for the night and
confided the success of her endeavours to Mary who had been in no
doubt.
Later that night
Francis visited her and had the same conversation Phillip had. She
pointed out that eyebrows were being raised in daily expectation of
his proposal and that she didn't want that impact on him. He
appreciated her endeavours on his behalf and the two of them once
more relaxed into their relationship. It was at about this time,
however, that Francis became conscious that he had, for a while, been
thinking of Melissa as more than merely a convenience and now that
the public were aware of his interest he realised that he didn't want
to have the excuse provided. It was, he informed himself, merely the
idea that the inability to bear his children would be enough to put
him off any female that stuck in his craw. In the quiet hours of the
morning as he slipped from Melissa's bed and returned to his own home
he admitted to himself that the truth was more simple. He wouldn't
give her up for that reason or any other.
Over the next few days,
as Melissa's bruises faded and her grazes healed, she waited for
Phillip to return with the required information about the French
operatives.
In his turn every time
he heard something relevant he made a point of sharing the
information at any casual opportunity. She was off limits to him in
every way – he respected and liked her, she was in some form of
relationship with a man whom he had grown to consider a friend and
she was a single woman held in esteem by many members of society and
regardless of her own approach to her relationship he could not see
her as a sexual individual and so he had created a new category for
her of female friend to sit alongside female relative. She was more
than just another society female and could never be his wife.
Phillip was not aware
of just how offensive his views of women were to Mary. Melissa
couldn't see how limited they were: women were either sexual toys
worth nothing in their own right, or ladies to be respected and held
at a distance, but Mary, accustomed to a lifetime of objectification
and never subject to respect recognised his attitudes. She had seen
them all too often before. Sir Francis, although more willing to risk
Melissa's reputation, was actually more respectful of women – he
allowed the the right to make decisions and participate in his life
on their own terms: Phillip, without ever acknowledging it to
himself, removed the right of choice from the women he associated
with. He was always very clear about the offer and never forced
himself upon a woman, but although he walked away from women who
refused him, he did so with a sneer. Although he accepted ladies who
were married could seek physical relationships outside of wedlock, he
considered them morally corrupt. That their husbands were also
unfaithful he dismissed as the male right.
His revulsion of
feeling where Melissa was concerned had not spread to his views on
the female race in general. Instead, he held one set of rules for her
and considered himself incredibly open minded and progressive, while
pursuing his old rule set with all other women.
Mary was deeply worried
every time he hove into view and she was glad that her relationship
with Francis was apparently steering her clear of Phillip's
potential. Her feelings about Francis were more complicated – she
didn't trust or like him. She had taken against him at the start and
had never particularly warmed to him in the following months although
he had done nothing to earn her disapprobation. She felt that he had
not been tested yet, and she suspected when he was, he would fail.
Phillip, however, she knew was good news for Melissa but bad news for
every other female.
He gave Melissa a role
and a purpose and treated her with the respect due to a male
colleague, but Mary anticipated trouble from him in time.
The time soon came.
They had found one of the three assassins and Phillip had made
arrangements for him to be tracked. There was a period during which
they did nothing but gather information and then came the time to
take the assassin down. He was referred to as le Chat Noir in the
English paperwork, partly in mocking reference to his large green
eyes and swarthy complexion, and partly with an edge of respect for
his stealth and ability to slip into the most confined places to make
his move hours later.
He had stopped in an
inn and set up with a group of travellers for a market run which
would take him across Wellington's path in about a month from now.
Phillip had determined that a raid on the travellers' camp was the
most appropriate way to take down the Cat. Within a few days they had
sketched up a plan: the British assassins were the first line of
attack, but it wasn't possible to guarantee that their attempts would
succeed and it was imperative that the Cat was given no opportunity
for escape.
The assassins went into
the camp and moments later the cry went up – whatever the reason,
the Cat had ensured a guard was set up to protect the camp beyond the
usual concern for horses and specifically precious belongings. The
British were taken by surprise but regrouped quickly. In the poor
light of the night and one flickering bonfire, however, there was
every chance that the Cat would escape. This was why Melissa and the
gang were there. They had stationed themselves at intervals around
the camp and, within ten seconds of the hue and cry starting they
had set fire to the oiled cord that they had lain on the ground.
Encircled in light, the action in the camp was much more visible.
Women and children were
screaming and huddled, while the men leaped to arms. Melissa was the
only member of the group accustomed to the idea of cross dressing as
a normal activity and she had not lost the habit of checking faces
for gender instead of merely clothes. Therefore she was the only one
who saw the gypsy woman carrying a bloodied knife sprinting between
carts. She immediately threw three of the smaller star blades at the
figure who, with lightening reflexes, turned and ducked. Knowing that
was the man, she charged in and entered into hand to hand combat with
him. Phillip was preoccupied seeking out all male figures and called
her to stop wasting time while the other men were trying to protect
her from the missiles that various members of the travelling group
were throwing.
Well fed and well
prepared for this attack, Melissa had the edge on the Cat. His
fighting style was incredibly reflexive and seemed to change moment
by moment, although she was clearly a surprise to him. She ducked
underneath his left arm thrusting and lunged towards hi right
shoulder. As he twisted and bent, blocking her arm, she brought up
her knee and connected with considerable force. As he was recoiling,
gasping, she followed up with a knife and drove it straight through
his ribs. The force of her blow was sufficient to make a deep wound
and the sharp edge enabled her to slice out wards with ease, tearing
open his chest. He collapsed, the blood spurting and bubbling out of
his chest as he clutched at it. Within moments he was dead.
It was the first time
she had watched a combative opponent die. She stood staring in shock
and the noise and chaos around her faded. The sounds of the men
behind her became somehow remote and the light of the fire faded into
darkness. A hand shook her and Phillip's face came into view. He was
shouting. The other men neared and all laid their hands on the two of
them. They needed to be in contact to travel and, as that was the
only thought in her mind, she automatically flicked the device and
all men arrived with her in her dressing room.
When they landed the
first thing that happened was James' fist hitting Phillip's face with
some considerable force. As he went crashing to the ground the other
men nodded. She looked around, bewildered, and saw Frank leaning in
the doorway. His eyes narrowed in concern when he saw the look on her
face and he walked to her and wrapped his arms around her as she
leaned silently and wide eyed into him.
“What happened?”
Francis was the only one with the self control to speak at that time.
John stepped forward
and informed him “There was a difference of opinion as to whether
we achieved our objective or not.” His words were stilted and
clipped. Cold beyond belief he refused to look at Phillip and instead
focussed on the disturbance they might be causing. “What of the
household?”
“Melissa is out of
town for a week. Mary gave them all a holiday as the fair is in town
– the house is empty until tomorrow.”
“Good.”
Phillip recovered and
came to his feet. Caution had been forgotten in his ballistic fury.
For several minutes he unleashed it all at Melissa, occasionally
encompassing the others in his verbal lashing. When he had finished
he informed them that he never wanted to see such incompetence on
display again and that due to their worthless actions the Cat had
escaped.
The other men looked at
each other and silently nominated John as spokesman. He stepped
forward and in the same cold tones informed Phillip that they were
not in his employ: they worked with Melissa out of respect for her
and what she was trying to achieve. If she made any action they would
trust and follow it. The individual she had attacked had been chosen
deliberately and that choice had their full support. They weren't
going to leave her defenceless in such a situation.
Phillip once more raged
that they weren't even looking for a woman. John pointed out what all
the men had realised as soon as they saw Melissa enter the fray –
just because he was a man, didn't mean he had to be dressed as one.
It was the considered opinion of those gathered that the individual
deceased would turn out to be in the report after the event a man and
none other than the Cat.
Phillip spluttered and
blustered but the others remained unmoving and unmoved. That fury
they had felt that he had dared to try attacking Melissa had not
faded, but their response now was the code of conduct expected of a
gentleman. There were four of them and one of him. Five if you
included Francis who had gathered the gist and was now also in arms
on Melissa's behalf. They all stood, furious but controlled waiting
for Phillip to retreat and apologise.
He didn't. Instead,
Melissa, who had recovered from her shock somewhat, called the men to
order and pointed out they were in entirely the wrong place. She had
programmed home accidentally and needed to take them to the inn where
all of their work had been done and where they would receive the post
event report. The four men accepted her statement as an order and
lined up ready to move. Francis didn't release his hold on her and
when she turned her gaze to him he simply raised an eyebrow as if to
dare her to attempt leaving him behind. Too drawn out to fight she
accepted it. Phillip grudgingly took his hold on the device and when
they landed in the inn immediately started throwing his weight about
as if to make the point that he was in charge.
The others remained
gathered and silent, protectively surrounding Francis and Melissa.
Eventually the body of the gypsy woman was brought in and “her”
identity confirmed as a disguised Cat. Phillip was silent and
sulking. His respect for Melissa as an individual was high but his
problem was that he had always seen himself as the one giving the
orders and she was allowed to tag along. It was the device only that
made her important he'd thought and this corpse indicated otherwise.
