Chapter 1

Chapter Text

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Linn Brown was a very capable housekeeper.
Her master never complained once about the way she managed the house. Her reputation between the families of Warren Road was excellent and she received during the years various offers in case she'd change her current position. But Linn was faithful, devoted to the house and its owners.
Sometimes she wondered if the other families who wanted her knew how much money she earned, but it was not greed to fuel her devotion.
It was respect and affection for a person whose life has been so hard and had to choose a very difficult path.
Linn was mending a curtain when she saw her master coming along the street. It was already quite dark, a typical London winter afternoon.
She reached the main door and opened it before a gloved hand touched the exterior knob.
"Welcome home."
"Thanks, Linn."
She helped in disrobing of coat, hat, umbrella and gloves before placing them on the chair near the fireplace, to get them rid of the misty fog.
"I'm going out tonight. Call John. Dark carriage."
"Yes. Can I prepare your usual bath?"
"Yes, in an hour or so, I want to read before."
"As you wish."
"And probably I'm leaving for Paris in two days, I need my travel bag."
"You'll go there for leisure or work?"
"Work. I'll have to meet a French colleague. He already sent a telegram to introduce himself."
"I'll pack your best working clothes."
"As you always do. I rely on you, Linn, nobody else. Call me when bath is ready."
Linn did as she was ordered, preparing the bathroom and taking the black clothes out of the closet in her private parlour. She caressed the dark fabric and took a deep breath.
If only… Then she continued her tasks, filling the requested travel bag, without forgetting the small black purse she knew so well.
She assisted her master in dressing, tying all the buttons and letting the clothes fall perfectly on the slim and well toned form. When she saw the carriage leave and John struggling to control the horses, she sighed. "Good luck", she whispered, "may you find tonight what you need."

The carriage stopped in front of an East End pub. A woman got off and started walking along the street; her clothes were completely black, like the carriage and the horses.
The coachman entered the pub and reached a tall man behind the bar; a small purse passed between them without words.
The coachman retuned outside, telling the woman everything was signed; she entered through a small door on the side street and the tall man made her sit in a secluded corner.
The pub was crowded, as every Friday night: she looked at the various young men drinking beers and the tall man pointed at some of them, murmuring something at her ear.
She nodded than stopped the tall man, lifting a gloved hand; he went to one of the young man and asked him to follow at the woman table.
The young man listened, at first so surprised that he smashed his open hand on the table, then accepting to sit down with her.
When a few minutes later the woman an the young man stood up, they left the pub through the same side door and hopped on the carriage, who moved toward an industrial area, deserted at night