10.

I do not want to see you for the last time

They were silent when they were sitting in the carriage to the house of the templar. The whole time Connor looked out of the window to the city which once again seemed to be more and more bleak in the setting sun. But Connor didn´t really had an eye for the environment which was passing by outside. His thoughts were unstoppably circling around this upcoming evening. Despite Lillian´s preparations, he didn´t know what was awaiting him. How much templars would he meet? Would he learn what he had to know and above all: Would he stay unrecognized? Theresa and Lillian had thought up almost a complete, new life story for him. Rafael Valdés. A Spanish businessman, raised in Boston and now visiting Europe to expand his business area. He had met Lillian on the journey from America. Except of the last point, nothing of this was even slightly true. But Connor didn´t mind lying to others. He minded not being able to stick to what and who he was. No matter how reasonable and useful it was.
As if she had guessed his thoughts, Lillian suddenly asked into the silence: "Do you remember everything we talked about?"
"Of course", Connor answered coldly when he looked at her again. "What about you? Will you not get my names mixed up?" In the end this whole charade could fail when Lillian only called him "Connor". He would, no matter his reluctance, stick to his new identity. Lillian also had to do it.
"As long as you´re reacting to it...", she just said and Connor uttered a snort, before he turned his eyes to the window again.
"It is not the first name I have to get used to", he murmured.
"Not the first?", Lillian wanted to know in an instant and Connor was tempted to nod. It had come to his mind how his mentor Achilles had given him the name "Connor" back then and with that he had named him after his own, dead son. This new name had been useful. Easier to pronounce for unpractised tongues than Connor´s true name and furthermore it had probably saved him from conflicts with the colonists. Connor had quickly got used to his second name and had already taken it to his heart and always introduced himself with it. Both names were his and still he hoped that he would hear his true name from to time, too.
"Ratonhnhaké:ton." Connor´s gaze was still turned towards the window, when he said this name to Lillian. Something totally normal for him. But it seemed like it was something like a word from a foreign language for Lillian at first and that wasn´t so far-fetched.
"Sorry?", she asked confused and Connor just added: "The name I was born with is Ratonhnhaké:ton. Achilles called me Connor because it is easier to pronounce."
Lillian was silent after that but when Connor looked at her, he saw how she was forming his name with her lips, highly concentrated. Shortly a smirk was curling the assassin´s lips. She looked like a child trying to learn how to speak, but her confusion wasn´t new to him. He already knew that a Mohawk-name and the language of his people in general was something entirely foreign for Europeans. But he had rarely seen how someone had at least tried to pronounce his name.
"Just stick to Connor. At least as soon as this evening is over", he said, after he had kept watching her efforts. Lillian nodded, but he believed to read in her eyes, that her head was still working on the pronunciation of his name.
"By the way, Lillian is neither the name I was born with. At least not completely", she said and Connor questioningly raised an eyebrow which made her smile.
"My full name is Lillian Margaret Sophie Anne Jarvis."
Connor´s questioning gaze became unbelieving and he frowned. "Why does someone need so many names?" It sounded totally absurd to him, but Lillian chuckled.
"You don´t need them but they have a meaning in a way, at least they did for my parents. Margaret for example was my mother´s mother, my grandmother. Sophie was my father´s mother and Anne was the first queen of the united Great Britain. So it´s an honour for me to be named after three special women."
"And Lillian?"
"Lillian...that´s me. That´s my first name. The name you call me with. Who knows, maybe someday one of my grand children is going to have my name. In memory of me."
Connor leaned back, still frowning thoughtfully. "Is it common here? To give a child so many names on its way?", he asked sceptically. He could reasonably understand the basic sentimentality behind it. But the other names must get forgotten when they weren´t used.
"It isn´t common but many people have several first names", Lillian explained, shaking her head but laughing again. Connor nodded slowly, although he still didn´t understand it completely.
"It seems like the British like it complicated", he mumbled to himself, while he turned his gaze outside again. First all these rules of behaviour, now these many names for only one person...

His thoughts were still circling around all these new impressions he had got so far, while the carriage left the main road and drove along a narrow path. Connor leaned a bit forward, to have a better view and so he detected the big, brightly illuminated manor they were approaching. Tension rose inside of Connor again when the carriage stopped and Lillian asked him: "Are you ready?"
The assassin nodded and left the carriage with a determined expression, after the coachman had opened the door. In an instant and instinctively he examined his environment. The wide, paved courtyard, which was illuminated by single lanterns. The guards he noticed in the shadows and finally the broad stone staircase which was leading to a large and widely opened front door. Connor could already hear voices and music sounding from inside. As well as the person who cleared their throat behind him.
Lillian was standing in the open door of the carriage and was giving him an expectant look. He hadn´t thought about helping her getting outside. Connor reached out his hand for her, she grabbed it and he steadied her, while she was steering her broad skirt through the narrow door. It was entirely incomprehensible to him, how someone could willingly limit themselves with such a piece of clothing. But Lillian didn´t seem to mind. Apparently effortlessly she stood beside him and linked arms with Connor, before they climbed the staircase.
"Try to smile", Lillian murmured to him, but he just couldn´t put on a smile.

With sceptical but still attentive gazes he regarded his environment once again, when they stepped through the front door and found themselves in a huge entrance hall. The walls were decorated with expensive wallpapers, the floor was obviously made of marvel and like in the house of the old lady, there were many pieces of art which seemed to be much more expensive. The wealth was unmistakable, not at least because of the servants who, as soon as Lillian and Connor had come in, greeted them with stiff bows and offered them something to drink, which Lillian rejected. Connor´s gaze became disparaging when it became aware to him that all of this wealth could be use to feed ten, maybe even twenty of the poor families of London for a long time. But he also thought about the man who owned all this.
"And he is a templar, you said?", Connor asked quietly and when Lillian nodded, he uttered a scornful snort.
"When you´re meeting him, you should suppress that."
"I will make every imaginable effort", Connor replied sourly when Lillian reprimanded him. But for now he forgot every disapproval he was feeling for the presented wealth of the templar, because they just entered the ballroom.
Lillian had told Connor that a soiree was only a small evening party. A gathering of selected guests but what Connor was seeing here was anything but a small gathering. The room was full of people and the air was filled with voices, music and the heavy scent of different perfumes. Connor didn´t know what he found worse. His gaze roamed through the room, over the people around him, who were standing or sitting together in small groups or who were gathering around the huge buffet. But he already couldn´t take in all the details. Too many impressions were pouring down on him and Connor felt how the tension inside of him was more and more taking possession of him. His jaw was grinding, he was frowning and his lips were tightly pressed together.
"Relax", Lillian murmured to him. His behaviour didn´t stay unnoticed by her but she had given him a wrong imagination of this soiree after all.
"You did not tell me that there are so many people", he uttered between clenched teeth, but didn´t get an answer. Lillian´s gaze was directed to a group of ladies, who were curiously pointing into their direction and began to whisper. Lillian´s sour gaze didn´t escape Connor´s notice, but when they passed the chatting women, Lillian was giving them a friendly smile, while Connor had to concentrate on not returning their staring with a cold gaze.

He could feel that they were still gaping after them, while Lillian was leading him to seating corner. There were sitting two pipe-smoking and lively talking men. The more corpulent one stood up, when he noticed Lillian and Connor and he approached them with a wide smile on his lips.
"Miss Lillian Jarvis! What a pleasure to welcome you into my house." He reached out his hand, which Lillian took it with a bow of her head and he elegantly indicated a kiss on her hand, before he turned to Connor. "And who is the young gentleman with the honour of your company? Not a fiancée we haven´t heard about, isn´t he?"
"No, a friend from America." Lillian smiled and glanced at Connor, who made every effort to suppress his tension. Now he had to start his charade, not matter if he wanted it or not.
"This is Rafael Valdés. A businessman of a Spanish family from the colonies who accompanied me during the crossing. Rafael, this is Judge Richard Pellmore. Our host."
Lillian spoke totally relaxed and with a polite smile, as if she wasn´t feeling any uneasiness. But Connor had to fight against his rising feeling of disdain again. So this was a templar.
Pellmore reached out his hand to Connor, a wide smile on his lips and the assassin only stared at it at first and only took it, after Lillian had given him an inconspicuous shove into his ribs.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir", he said and managed it to smile at the templar in front of him, although he would have liked to show him every kind of disdain.

Pellmore didn´t have the slightest idea of the hostile thoughts of his person opposite. He was still smiling his wide smile and looked Connor over with open curiosity.
"A Spanish businessman from America who´s visiting us in our beautiful England. If that isn´t extraordinary", he said and turned to the other man who was still sitting on his seat and smoked his pipe. "Rafael, may I introduce you to Walter Tibbet? He´s owner of several warehouses at the harbour. Depending on the sort of your business here, he certainly could be a great help to you."
Tibbet only nodded at Connor as well as at Lillian, before he had a deep puff of his pipe and exhaled the smoke through his nose. It wafted through the air and mingled unpleasantly with the omnipresent scent of perfume.
In the meantime Pellmore invited Lillian and Connor to take a seat. "I´m sure you can tell us some interesting stories about America", he said, but Connor would have wanted to reject and leave. His mind refused to sit with his enemies and have a polite conversation with them. But Lillian had already gratefully accepted the invitation, sat down and pulled Connor next to her. The assassin sat there as stiff as a poker while the templar in front of him was still smiling and sank back into his seat, breathing heavily. He beckoned a servant over and ordered him to get Lillian and Connor something to drink. There was a moment of silence during which Connor was totally aware of the templar´s expectant gaze. But he was more thinking about the conclusion, that with Walter Tibbet another templar was sitting in front of him.
His worn-out clothes were too tight for him and stretched over his round belly that was almost rounder than the judge´s. The hair of his stained, white wig was sticking to his sweaty forehead and he radiated an unpleasant scent of tobacco, mingled with sweat and the stench of the harbour. He didn´t fit into the dapper and garish society around him, but the templar ring on his right ring-finger was proving his eligibility to be here and it insured him Connor´s disgust. Now he had two enemies sitting in front of him and still he had to act as if he was friendly minded to them.

Connor had to suppress all his denegation when Pellmore started to speak. "Well Rafael, tell us something about yourself. Which sort of business is it, you´re doing over there?"
Connor cleared his throat and shortly, as if he wanted to insure her support, he looked at Lillian who was looking at him, too. Then he turned to his person opposite and answered in a steady voice: "I buy up land and transfer it again. Not that the war is over, almost everyone is interested in having land in the former colonies and I am getting a good bargain."
Pellmore nodded interested and pushed his neighbour into the side, whose watery blue eyes were firmly directed at Lillian. It didn´t escape Connor´s notice that Tibbet was paying more attention to her décolleté than to her face, but he had no chance to distract Tibbet from her somehow. Because Pellmore was already requiring his attention again. "Maybe we should consider buying land over there, too. But is it safe? I mean, certainly there are still many savages walking around."
For the split of a second, Connor clenched his fists. This derogatory comment about his people made his blood boiling. His people had been bereft of all their living space because of the settlements. Because of businesses he was pretending to do. A bitter irony. But Connor had to pull himself together reluctantly.
"They were forced back deep into the wilderness", he answered shortly and with a husky voice. It seemed like Pellmore didn´t notice. He nodded again and had a puff of his pipe while Tibbet´s gaze moved away from Lillian and finally turned to Connor.
"Your accent is strange", he said in a lethargic and also unpleasant sounding voice. "Not Spanish. I thought you are from there."
"My parents. I grew up in the colonies and must have adopted the settler´s accent."
Pellmore nodded again and murmured: "Heard about it." So at least Theresa´s made up story was actually making sense. But it didn´t seem like Tibbet was convinced. He critically looked Connor over from head to toe, had a puff of his pipe but didn't say anything more. Instead he started to stare at Lillian once again. Her hand clenched around the glass which had been brought by the servant Pellmore had sent in the meantime. Connor also had a glass in his hand, filled with a reddish liquid. No vine, he noticed. It smelled sweeter and fruitier and also tasted like that, Connor noticed when he had a sip of the drink. He squinched up his face and put the glass aside again. He rather preferred one of the tart Ales Oliver was brewing.
It seemed like Lillian had a different taste than him. At least she had a deep sip of the drink and kept holding the glass tight, as if it would support her. Connor saw an angry sparkle in her eyes which was obviously meant for Tibbet. He was still deriving pleasure from her appearance, but again Connor wasn´t able to do anything to distract him from her and to spare her the gaping.

A delicate, young woman with deep red hair stopped beside the seats and gave everyone a bright smile. Hannah Lokshire pushed one of her prettily draped red curls from her shoulder and it didn´t escape Connor´s notice that her smile was much wider when she looked at him. Of course she recognized him and Connor hoped urgently that she didn´t betray him. She didn´t knew anything about his charade after all. But she didn´t do anything like that.
"I thought because the gentlemen are certainly talking about businesses, I could steal our lovely Lillian for a while and invite her to us ladies", Hannah said, without letting her smile becoming smaller once. But her idea didn´t cause agreement by everyone. Lillian´s starting objection was interrupted by Pellmore.
"That´s a very good idea", he said and winked at Lillian. "We don´t want to bore you, Miss Lillian and don´t worry: Your companion is in good company with us."
Lillian gave Connor a helpless gaze with wide eyes and he tried to shake his head as inconspicuously as possible and to remind her of her promise with his gaze. The promise, not to leave him alone tonight. He hadn´t made her promise it because of fear or shyness but because he feared what could happen if he stayed alone with the templars. That he wouldn´t be able to hold back anymore and would reveal himself. He needed her as some sort of moral support. As a memory of why they were here. This already unfamiliar situation in the middle of a big society was even more demoralising because of the presence of his greatest enemies. He couldn´t let Lillian go.
But Lillian had no other choice. Hannah Lokshire grabbed her arm, linked arms with her and dragged her with her without bidding farewell. Connor kept sitting like frozen and looked after the women dumbfounded. He could see how Lillian gave him the same gaze.
I do not want to see you for the last time, Connor thought bitterly before she disappeared behind the many people in the room. Now he was sitting in front of two templars alone and they shouldn´t learn that the assassin in front of them was wishing nothing else but to take care of them and to force the information he needed out of them.