Thief: Kingdom of Maidenhead Book One, page 11
“This seems quite personal to you, Betsy.”
“He has greatly offended an extremely dear friend of mine. The reason he was only patronizing the secondary brothels was not by his choice and not a financial decision.”
“I see. I like your plan. I’ll get started on all this right away. This will make a very good trial run for what you plan for the cabal,” Mr. Kling says.
“Yes, it will. I hope they end up in gaol for financial ruin before they find their way to the gallows for treason.”
That seems to conclude our business for today, but Mr. Kling springs a surprise on me. “If you would, I’d like to take the two of you out to dinner on Friday.”
“I think I’d like that,” I say. “How about you, Charlie.”
“I’d like that too,” Charlie says.
“Good, it’s a date them. Please meet me here at around 5:00 PM,” Mr. Kling says.
“I’ll make sure she’s here.”
“Thank you, Charlie.”
After we leave the office, Charlie invites me to lunch, just as I had hoped. He takes me to a place that is on the way back to my penthouse. One that I’ve never been to before. He must have seen it on our way to meet Mr. Kling. It is quite good, but not as good as the way Charlie treats me. The joy in this date is still there, but the joy is tempered by our impending conversation. From there, we go to work more on Charlie’s wardrobe.
“Hello, Betsy. I’m so happy to see you,” Miss Millie says.
“And I you,” I say. “My new bodyguard, Charlie, needs to have clothes to match Betsy and eventually Elizabeth. He will be escorting me around town on a fairly frequent basis. We have a dinner date with a business colleague on Friday. If you can get him something by then, that would be wonderful.”
“Oh, I can swing that. Men’s clothing can be so much easier to handle. I think we need to update your wardrobe a little bit as well. Did he say where you are going after dinner?”
“No, he didn’t mention it. He didn’t even say where we are going. He could have at least warned me. After all, a girl needs to properly prepare for a date. He asked us to meet him at his office at 5:00 PM without any details.”
“Where is his office?” she asks, and I tell her.
“Is that Artemis Kling’s office?” she asks.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, that man,” she says with some obvious vexation. “I may have a good idea where you will be dining and possibly where you will be going after. Leave everything to me.”
“Of course, ma’am. You are the best. It was a godsend to me that must have guided me to your shop in the first place. We will be here mid-afternoon on Friday, and I will leave everything in your capable hands.”
“If you are leaving it in my hands, then I need you to be here an hour before lunch. Charlie, you can arrive mid-afternoon.”
“Yes, ma’am,” we both say.
She grins at us when it comes out in harmony. I hope Charlie can get past who I really am. I still don’t know quite how to break the ice on that conversation. When we return to my penthouse, I write and send a note to her. One that tells her he will be working as my personal guard full time, probably living in my penthouse. I also remind her of my still developing Elizabeth Thoms persona. He will be her guard as well. I include the reason why it is unlikely that the thoroughly desirable Charlie will ever be my boyfriend. Miss Millie is one of the few people who knows who I truly am.
I spend most of a week of observing the four and a half conspirators. I’ve come to the conclusion that the first reports I received about them don’t come close to their depravity. Charlie hasn’t moved in yet, and I haven’t had the guts to spill my secret to him. My only hope is that he seems interested in Betsy but not Bit. Maybe it’s an age thing. I don’t know. Still, we both make it to the seamstress shop at our appointed times. When I see the two of us in a mirror, I realize that our clothes complement each other’s. I see that Miss Millie still has hope that we are going to be a couple. Her hope pales in comparison to mine.
We take my building’s carriage to Mr. Kling’s office. Business first, I give him the quarter million golds in one-thousand-gold notes. He gives me a receipt.
“It appears that the baron is mortgaged to the hilt. All his worldly physical possessions are vulnerable. With careful application of pressure, he should put his title up for collateral by next week or the week after at the latest,” Mr. Kling says.
“That is wonderful. How interested are people in selling off his debt?” I say.
“I’ve already purchased most of it at a rate of two silvers to the gold or better. If things continue, it will likely average under one and a half silvers. I now understand what the baron is saying about the pass, as he is a silent partner in Northland Steel. He owns at least eleven percent of it. The majority owner is a mystery. I could find out, but that could upset the apple cart. The Baron’s percentage of the profit is placed in an account at the bank of Maidenhead.”
With a gold being worth ten silvers, even two silvers to the gold is an excellent rate. Any lower than that is incredible. Not only am I getting the money he should be using to pay his debt, but I should also end up owning the collateral for his debt.
“Perfect, I’ll be able to speak with Mrs. Youngerman about that as soon as I come into ownership.”
“Be aware you should do your best to obtain physical possession of the titles, deeds, and ownership records. Just in case he decides to skip town.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea. The records weren’t in Gimden’s residence, so I expect they are in his personal vault at the bank.”
“I didn’t know he had one.” Mr. Kling says with confusion.
“Trust me, he does. My information is a few weeks out of date. But as of that time, I have knowledge of everyone who possessed a personal vault there. Even yours.”
“Well, at least you can’t get into them.”
My smirk seems to make him very uncomfortable.
Dinner is wonderful, with Charlie being, as usual, my dashing date. Mr. Kling proves to be wonderful social company, insisting that I call him Artemis from now on. I’ll do that as Betsy and my additional female personae. He’ll have to endure being called Mr. Kling from Bit, though. After dinner, he takes us to his box at the theatre. This is the first theatre I’ve ever been in. The only play’s I’ve seen before are on outdoor stages in squares and at festivals. This is an entirely different experience since there is nothing else to distract from the performance.
After the theatre lets out, we part from him on the curb. It is a warm evening, so Charlie and I decide to walk back to my penthouse. It is late enough that I tell Charlie that he should plan on staying in the security quarters tonight. Charlie decides to go stoic on me until I tell him we can talk in the morning.
Chapter fourteen
Attacked
As we near my building, a dozen toughs with daggers separate themselves from the shadows. Charlie and I go back-to-back as if we’ve practiced it. I hear his short sword clear its scabbard. I already have long daggers in each of my hands. The toughs encircle us, with half of them in front of me.
The six dagger-wielding thugs on my side of the circle look like they know what they are doing. They start making thrusts and passes in ones and twos. I know they are only feeling me out, but they are on a clock. In this borough, the police are rarely more than five minutes away. I use the minimum movements necessary to block their exploratory attacks. After a few passes, all they learn is that I am adept with both hands. Little do they know, I am grandmaster class with both hands.
Their first real attack is by three of them. When initially seeing their tactics, I realize they want to take out Charlie first. I suspect they’re supposed to take me alive. I’m now certain the baronet, or more likely, the baron, is behind this attack. They want whatever is in the vault. Possibly the crates that Alber mentioned. It’ll be hard to get what was in the vaults if I’m dead.
Two of them come in from my right side, and the other, obviously from my left. They are likely trying to get me to believe that one of the two to my right is going after Charlie. If I move over to fully intercept them, the one to my left has a clear path to Charlie’s back. The two on the right don’t seem to have drilled together as they stay too close to each other. They both make a thrust at me. I block the outside attackers thrust into his partner’s attack.
My long skirts completely hide my feet, so they don’t know that my primary objective is to intercept the thug to my left. He leaps as soon as he sees me shift in over to in front of him and make a lightning thrust at his belly. He goes straight up and spreads his legs. He makes an awkward stab at me while in the air. I can pull back and avoid his wild jab, or I can take it and remove him from the fight.
With the way these attackers move, I’m confident I can take out four of them. Five would be difficult, and six unlikely. I choose to complete my attack and take the hit. Luckily, there isn’t much force behind his thrust, but I feel it bite into the front of my left shoulder area. Meanwhile, the scalpel-sharp blade of my dagger is now between his legs. I rapidly bring it up in a slashing maneuver. I split him from his crotch to his belly button. If his boystick is resting straight up, it is likely split in twain lengthwise. From the screech he makes, that seems likely. He may not die, but he has certainly suffered a life-changing wound.
The thug in the middle has pressed on his attack through the interference of his partner’s deflected attack. He lunges at me as best he can. His dagger makes a very painful wound in my right-side rump. As much as it hurts, it causes no real harm. He is off-balance when his blade stabs me, so he stumbles away rather than stay within my range.
My foe to the far right, seeing the gushing blood coming out of the left-side thug’s crotch, screams incoherently. He makes an unbalanced lunge with only the power of anger behind it. His blade catches me in the right side, a little above my right hip. Before he can get the dagger fully out of my body, I deeply cut his wrist with my left-hand dagger. This wound forces him to drop his weapon. My right-hand dagger guides several inches of steel in between his ribs which then savages his heart. Two down, but I have three wounds on me, and the four remaining attackers will now be more cautious.
They start to attack me two-by-two. They alternate, trying to get me off-balance or out of position. We trade small cuts and knicks back and forth for a short time. Finally, the left-side thug of a pair overextends, and I pin his arm to my side. I slam my dagger through his eyeball, almost to the back of his skull.
I push him back away from me, then twist my hips in a counterclockwise motion. The spin causes my skirt to flare out, making the partner of the most recently deceased believe that I will make a spinning attack. He leaps forward and to his right to get ahead of my expected attack and be in a position to make a counter-attack when mine fails. My attacker can’t see that I never shifted my feet. My torso is side on to him when my right-hand dagger snakes out toward his midsection.
He is in mid-air, so he has to throw his hands up to pull his belly back. He likely never realizes that I was making an arcing underhand attack. With his chin now fully extended, when my dagger vertically penetrates him near the top of his throat, it has a direct path into the bottom of his brain. He’s dead before his feet hit the ground. Before he expires, he is able to bring his dagger down in an ineffectual slash to my upper arm.
The tumbling body causes one of the two remaining attackers to all but fall down. While he is still off balance, his right side is exposed to me, with his arm straight down. I make simultaneous backhand slashes to his upper arm and forearm. This causes him to drop his dagger. As he turns to flee, I slash both of his hamstrings. A second one that is seriously wounded but may survive. I straighten up and glare at the last fighter with what I’m sure is murder in my eyes. He looks shocked for a second. Then a grimness settles over his face. I believe he just figured out who I am and knows that trying to flee is near-instant death. To his credit, he lasts six or seven seconds before I force an opening and severe his jugular vein and carotid artery with one deep gash.
My six being down and out of the fight, I turn to see how Charlie is fairing. I see four of his attackers are down, and the two remaining seem to be content to distract him and keep him from assisting me. I move around his right side, staying out of reach of his shortsword. I no doubt look a sight as my dress is cut, ripped, and slashed in multiple spots. I’m also covered in blood. The last two of the dozen attackers take one look at my face and decide to make a run for it. The two make it three and four steps before their lifeless bodies faceplant on the cobbles. They both have the hilt of a dagger protruding from the back of each of their skulls.
I turn to Charlie and feel myself breathing deeply and rapidly as my overstressed body tries to restore itself. We clasp each other’s forearms, and I wonder how this day had gone so horribly wrong so quickly. I start to feel massive pain and weakness as my battle rage starts to recede. I hear running feet and pray it doesn’t mean another attack. I know I don’t have it in me. To my relief, it is the police.
I begin to realize this is the closest to dying I have ever come. I’ve been in many fights, and I have killed many times before. I’ve never gotten the shakes afterward. Not like I do now. A police sergeant comes up to us.
He looks at me and asks, “Milady, are you all right?”
I slowly shake my head. I don’t trust myself to speak at the moment.
“Is that blood all theirs?” he asks.
“No, sergeant. They were able to get several stabs and slashes on me,” I’m able to say.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t think so, sergeant. I really don’t feel well. Perhaps you could question me in the morning? My name is Betsy James. I live in that building right there in penthouse number one.”
“Of course, Milady James. We will see you in the morning. Do you need healing?”
“I believe I do. Could you ask someone to send for a healer?”
“I can do better than that. We have one not far from here. I will send her up.”
“Thank you, sergeant.”
Charlie starts walking me into my building. I start to collapse into him. I hear him shout as he picks me up. I can tell he is carrying me upstairs, and I hear a woman’s voice behind us. The next thing I’m aware of is lying on the cushioned bench in my bathroom. I hear some water running and look up through blurry eyes, and I see what looks to be a familiar face.
“Bundi?” I ask.
“Shh, Shh,” she quiets me.
When I can see more clearly, I realize she is not Bundi. The shape of Bundi’s eyes, her brows, the perfect nose, and her incredible lips are present on this younger woman’s face. There is a small difference between their cheekbones.
A warmth of hope glows in her eyes. Bundi’s eyes, while absurdly beautiful, almost always showed a hint of something between bitterness and regret. There was nothing malevolent in them, more like a lament. As if there was something in her life that she desired with all her heart and soul that she knew she could never possess. This beautiful woman lacks that loss and is all the more beautiful for it. I immediately want to lose myself in her.
The moment I have this thought, I see a change in her face. Those beautiful eyes widen and shift from warmth to a kindled heat, the heat of desire. I feel her gaze in the depth of my being. Her perfect lips part, asking to be kissed. Only a moment before I lift up my weary body to kiss her, she averts her gaze, using a visible effort to do so. I hear a small, strangled cry.
As I lay in my still somewhat befuddled state, I wonder if I imagined it all. My head is still clearing as I lay here. When she does turn back to me, my experience with Bundi allows me to clearly see the longing in her eyes. My heart lurches in my chest and starts to beat harder. I reach out with both hands to embrace her. She intercepts them, taking my hands in hers.
“I’m Yenjy. I’m your healer. Just lay still for a bit. You don’t have anything serious except for the loss of blood. I’m almost done with the largest wounds. In a minute, I’m going to need you to stand up.”
A short while later, she looks closely at me. “Good, you’re coming back to life. Let’s get you on your feet,” she says in a voice as pure as angels singing to my ears.
She reaches out and takes my hands, helping me to stand.
“We need to get you undressed.”
Ooh, yes, please, I think.
She starts removing my clothes. It seems that as soon as I am naked, Charlie walks in. I’m facing him, and now I don’t need to figure out how to start our conversation.
“You had several deep lacerations and puncture wounds. You’ve lost lots of blood, so you need someone with you at all times for the next twelve hours,” the healer tells me.
I see her clearly now, and she is, if anything, more attractive than Bundi. They share many features, but hers seem more perfectly formed. In my still mildly befuddled mind, I have the urge to kiss her. She speaks again before I carry out my thought.
“Charlie, I will need you to sit in her tub with her for an hour. Then put her straight into bed. You need to sleep in bed with her. If she has another corset available, please lace her snugly into it. She should otherwise stay naked.”
“Couldn’t you stay with her?” he asks. Oh, yes, I think.
“No, I’m afraid not. It would be unprofessional to sleep with my patient. I’d likely do something inappropriate if I stayed as well.”
There is nothing inappropriate you could do except leave, I think.
“Do I need to stay naked with her?”
“No,” Yenjy giggles.
“Why are you laughing.”
“I can’t stay because I want to sleep with her. You are staying, and you don’t want to sleep with her.”
“Charlie, are there any boxes in the foyer?” I ask.
