2
The morning light was beginning too seep into the streets; she would have to disappear in a few minutes. She sighed. It had been a long night. A carriage clattered by and although she ducked into a doorway, she thought she saw a face peering through the grimy window. She grimaced. Another story to add to the masses of rumours about her. Sometimes having a reputation was good – but she was turning into more and more of a 'celebrity'...
"Daddy, wake up! We have to go in an hour!"
Richard groaned. He had no idea how he had managed to raise such a punctual child. He untangled himself from the blankets and sat up in bed. Alexis was dressed in her preferred loose white shirt tucked into breeches. She had on her favourite leather riding boots and had tied her hair up on her head. Her father smiled.
"Are we just going to say you're a boy at the inn?"
Alexis grinned. "No. I have that cape Grandmother gave me for Christmas, and I'll wear a bonnet."
"So you do put thought into your clothes," her father teased. Alexis threw a pillow at him.
"Get up. You've missed breakfast."
"Cook's packed us something to eat on the journey, surely?"
"That's for later; you cant just eat it as soon as we've set off."
"Alexis, I'm your father. You do what I say."
Alexis grinned. "I would if I could. But face it, I brought you up. I'm in charge."
Richard shooed her from the room so he could dress; Alexis made sure there was nothing left in her room that she would need, tucking her dagger into the back of her breeches. She had heard enough stories about highwaymen to know there was at least a chance of encountering one.
Fame had never been her desire. In fact, she wished for the opposite. Solitude, peace, and restitution. Restitution sounded more thought out, more detached, than revenge. It came to the same thing, really. She had left her old life, not that there had been much to leave by the time they were through with her family.
She liked to be alone. Well, mostly alone. She lived above a bookshop; she had the top two floors of the building. It was clean and well furnished, and she employed a live in maid who did a little cleaning for her in exchange to take night classes in medicine. Lanie was the only person who came close to being a friend...
Alexis somehow managed to herd her father into the carriage before 9 o'clock, the time she had decided they should leave. She wrapped herself up in her cape and settled on the cushioned seat. She wished she could read on journeys but the jolting of the carriage gave her a headache if she tried to focus on a book. Her father, settled in a similar way on the seat opposite, entertained her by telling stories. He was a master at weaving plots on the spot; he could construct an elaborate crime thriller that lasted an entire day of travelling. He made it interactive, too, allowing Alexis to interview characters, and when they stopped to stretch their legs, they had a mock fencing duel, still in character.
To fit with her current fascination, Richard turned Alexis into a mysterious detective, who solved murders and caught killers, hunting them at night. The duel was an exciting tie. Johnson, who was driving, said he couldn't possibly pick a winner. Richard knew he could still beat his daughter if he tried, but it was getting harder and harder. Soon she would be more than a match for him.
The night at the inn was uneventful; Alexis struck up a conversation with one of the barmaids and was elated to hear that this girl, Bessie, knew of Katherine Beckett too.
"Don't cross her, Miss. I mean, M'lady."
Alexis smiled. "Alexis. Just call me Alexis. And how do you mean?"
"Well, what I heard is she's dangerous 'erself, M'la-Alexis. She stops 'em killers alright, but she stops 'em because she don't care about nothing or nobody. Even when she's at court, she stands by 'erself and only speaks wiv the king 'imself, or sometimes she'll dance wiv a brave young man but I feel sorry for the poor buggers."
Alexis' eyes widened encouragingly. "Why?"
Bessie leaned in closer to her; they were sitting at a table in the corner of the dining room.
"They say..." Bessie looked around and lowered her voice to a whisper. "They say she eats 'em. She gets 'em up to 'er chambers an' once she's done wiv 'em she eats 'em up like one of them black widow spiders!"
Alexis managed not to laugh, keeping a terrified expression to match her new friends'.
"She sounds amazing," Alexis whispered.
"You jus' be carful, alright?" Bessie said. Alexis smiled.
"I will be. Thank you so much for talking to me."
"It was a pleasure, m-Alexis. I better go back to work now. Have a good time in London."
Alexis watched Bessie go and smiled across at her father, who came to take the seat the barmaid had been occupying.
"Have you made a friend?" he asked.
"She was very interesting. She was telling me about Lady Beckett – they call her the black widow!"
"As in, man eater?"
Alexis grinned. "Yes! She gets more interesting with every moment."
"Shouldn't this scare you?"
Alexis winked. "I'm not a man. You might not be safe though."
"You could go out," Lanie suggested.
She shook her head. "No. These 'public appearances' are so tiresome."
"No one even knows who you are. There are dozens of women in London who might be the infamous Lady Beckett. Use a different name."
"It's not about my identity. I just don't enjoy the parties. Everyone is fake. I do not wish to join them."
"I think you're wasting your natural blessings."
She sighed and put her arm around her friend. "You can go out. This isn't America."
"They look at me like the slave girl I am."
"You're not a slave girl! You're free – I freed you. I shouldn't have had to, but there it is. You're free now and you can do whatever you want."
"That's nice of you to say, Miss, but it's not true."
"Lanie, do not call me Miss," she said warningly.
"Sorry, M'Lady."
She laughed. "Lanie! We're equals."
"Maybe in your eyes, Miss, but I think it's better for everyone if I just stay your humble servant."
"You can be anything-"
"I don't want to be. Not any more."
"Oh, Lanie... If I could have saved him, if there was anything-"
"You didn't even know about him until it was too late. He fought to get me to you."
"And he will always be remembered."
Lanie smiled. "Now he's reincarnated as a blade stronger than steel."
The second day's journey was duller than the first. The story ended, and Richard and Alexis were both sore, tired, and impatient to get into town. Alexis wanted a bath; Richard wanted a proper bed.
"We're too rich," Alexis commented.
"What do you mean?"
"We're used to things which are too nice. Most people would kill to ride in a carriage like this one, or even stay where we stayed last night. We can just ride to London if we want to – if we weren't rich, we'd have to get a coach or even walk!"
Richard smiled. "I see your point. We're very used to being comfortable. But I've worked to maintain our wealth, and it comes with responsibilities. I care for all my tenants and staff; I do many things to make sure my money is being used for good."
Alexis smiled. "I know. Just... some things are unfair. I'm very lucky."
"You're right. We both are. Being born with talent is lucky, as is being born with a name, or a pretty face. But the way we use our luck is what defines us."
Alexis nodded. Her father might be childish a lot of the time, but she knew he was thoughtful at heart.
It was already dark, well into Tuesday evening, when they finally arrived at the town house. Richard's mother, Martha, greeted them dramatically as she flung open the door, pushing the butler out of the way.
"My dears, my dears! It's so wonderful to see you both! But you're so late – I was sure something must have happened to you!"
Alexis grinned. She had missed her grandmother's enthusiasm; everything the older woman said was completely emphatic.
"You've grown so much," Martha said as she pulled the teenager into a hug. "But you still dress like a boy."
Richard laughed. "Not for much longer. She's going to be presented at court."
"Oh is she now? You did say so in your letter but I didn't dare believe it. Alexis, my darling, is it true? You're going to embrace a beautiful, feminine custom?"
"It's true," Alexis replied, managing to seem at least a little excited. Martha ushered them into the house, telling them they must sit in the drawing room; she had a fire made up and they could have something to eat.
"You're being quite the hostess," Richard commented. "Especially considering that this is our house, not yours."
Alexis made a face at her father. She was pleased that he had included her, she liked that it was their house, but she thought it was Martha's house too. She knew he was joking but sometimes his jokes were a little wearing.
They gathered around the fire in the drawing room and after sharing all the interesting titbits of news from Castle Manor that they could think of (which didn't take long), Alexis was free to ask her grandmother about Lady Beckett. Martha took great pride in knowing all the interesting gossip their circle in London had to offer, and as usual, she did not disappoint.
"I should have known," she tutted when Alexis brought up the woman. "She's just the type to peak your interest. Is that why you want to go to court? Because she is there?"
Alexis bit her lip. "Maybe," she said with a small smile. Martha patted her hand.
"That's all very well – and you might meet her. But you won't know it."
"What do you mean?"
"She keeps her 'formal' identity very secret."
"So she isn't really Lady Beckett?"
"No, dear, she is Lady Beckett. Poor child – young, still, and with a troubling history. But there is no Lady Beckett at court – Lady Beckett the lady hasn't been seen for almost nine years. She is a rumour, a whisper in the wind. And though the rumours say she is at court, and friendly with the king, there are a great many women of about the right age who are."
"But surely... I mean, there must be some way to tell? They can't all be ladies?"
"I doubt that any of them were born ladies, my sweet, but they are all ladies now."
Alexis sighed. "So even if I do meet her, I won't know it."
"Don't be so downhearted, child. There are dozens of equally fascinating people at court. Balls are wonderful for stories and making intriguing connections. That's why I attend so often."
Richard cut in at this point. "It's nothing to do with the free wine or friendly, rich gentlemen."
Martha laughed. "Absolutely, Richard. Nothing to do with that at all."
Alexis had to laugh a little, but she was very disappointed.
"What about her being the black widow?" she asked.
"Black widow?" Martha didn't recognise the name.
"She eats men," Alexis explained. Martha laughed.
"Ah, the spiders. She may well be a man eater, Alexis, but more than half the women at the parties we'll attend will be known as 'black widows'."
"She is real, though?"
"Certainly. But she keeps herself secret. No one knows where she lives or how she goes about anything; she deposits murderers outside the gaol. They are unconscious, and if they are not known criminals she leaves a letter explaining their crimes."
"But if she was a real lady, even nine years ago, wouldn't people know what she looked like?"
"She was a lady, but not a well known one. She was very young and her family very quiet. I don't know that they ever moved properly in our circles."
"So why is she in them now?"
Martha laughed. "I can only speculate, my dear. My suspicion is that she likes to catch criminals from all levels of society; the upper class ones are likely to be the worst. Balls, as well as fun, are excellent places for discovering things."
Alexis frowned and flopped back into her armchair. Her father winked at her.
"I've never known you back down so easily, Lex! It's a challenge, but you love challenges. And I know you love solving the mysteries in my books. Think of this as another mystery for you to solve."
Alexis still didn't smile, but she was getting closer. "You can be an investigator," Richard continued, "just like Lady Beckett. You can go to balls and parties and dinners, and find out everything you can until you work out what you need to know. I'll help you – I've always wanted to do some real detective work."
Alexis did laugh at this. "You just want to be Sherlock Holmes."
Richard grinned. "No I don't. He's insane. I want to be a better investigator. After all, I write about one."
She lay down on her bed, looking at the books on the table beside it. 'Flowers for your Grave' by Richard Castle. Sir Richard Castle. She smiled. She liked his poetry too. She had heard he was coming to London, to present his daughter at court. The child couldn't be more than... fifteen? Then again, who was she to question? She had thought herself quite grown up at fifteen, too.
She wondered if she would meet him. It was likely; the ball on Friday was a must for anyone starting out. It would be the perfect place for him to introduce his child to everyone. Her included, she supposed. She would stay close to the king as she always did. It was safer.
She was not naturally shy, and at one point she had loved to dance more than anything else. But being outgoing attracted attention, and attention might risk her cover. No one could know who Lady Beckett pretended to be; Lady Beckett had to stay hidden. For her own safety, apart from anything else.
A/N: Thanks for reading and for all the follows/reviews for chapter 1! Please keep reading and reviewing! In terms of my other stories, I will be updating them when I can. I know Sierra is due an update and I have started to write it so it should be up soon. Take care, love and hugs, Z xxx