Wine, Part Three

It was surprisingly hard to visit Bartholomew Throckmorton in prison. The warden had been ordered not to let anyone visit without family's permission. However, finally phone calls were made—more than one, for reasons Cain couldn't comprehend, and finally he was allowed to see Bartholomew.

He was younger than Cain expected—only a year or two older—and as dark as Sir Robert was fair. In fact, just from the way he carried himself, Cain could tell they were as different as day and night. Bartholomew sat across a wooden table, looking as though he felt he owned the place, but Cain could see a small excitement in the other's eyes, and a tenseness at the guards' presence.

Cain pulled the note out of his pocket and pushed it across the table.

"Did you send this?" he asked.

A look of surprise crossed Bartholomew's face.

"You got it?" Bartholomew asked. "Did you figure it out?"

"…no," Cain said, glancing over his shoulder at Riff. "We figured some of the parts, but not the message as a whole."

"Do you have a pen?"

Riff put a hand the breast-pocket of his jacket and handed it across the to Bartholomew. There was a pause between them as the transaction was made, and Bartholomew looked at Riff with an unreadable expression. He then turned to the paper and started writing. After a few moments, he pushed the paper back, with a list underneath the original note.

Three is Empress

Und is German, goth

Tarteen tartine, French

French "Goth" empress, Tamara

"won't say no moor"

Seven nationalities out of thirteen

"Tamara?" Cain asked. "So the German was only helping to allude to Tamara, but the person we're looking for is French?"

"That's right," Bartholomew answered. "From what I've heard—which isn't much—she's been collecting people from each of the thirteen colonies and installing them in the households of nobles, sort of like a spy system. They're all criminals. Rumor has it she's bought a few people out of the gallows, and even brought somebody back from Australia."

"But she only has seven so far?"

"Do you know who she is?" Riff asked.

"No," Bartholomew answered. "I haven't heard a name. But they talk about her around here. For a few men, she's their only hope."

"And you haven't heard about an 'Aaron'." It was more of a statement on Riff's part than a question.

"Again, no. But I have no doubt there will be one eventually, if there isn't already."

Cain rose from his seat, and turned toward the door. "Thank you." Then, as an after-thought, he turned back. "And the 'sephen'? Is that just Egypt or India, or is it both?"

"Both."

Riff and Cain nearly made it out the door, before Bartholomew said, "Count, may I talk to you in private for a moment?"

Cain glanced at Riff, and Riff shrugged, answering that it didn't matter either way to him. Cain nodded and returned to his seat. Bartholomew waited until the door was closed before speaking.

"Who was that man?" he asked.

"Who, Riff?" Cain said. "He's my valet."

"Have you told him yet?"

Cain paused a moment, not quite sure what he heard. "Huh?" Realizing how stupid it sounded, said, "I don't understand…"

"What you think of him."

"What do you mean?"

Bartholomew smiled. "You're in love with him." Cain stiffened, and making Bartholomew smile even wider. "I was right, wasn't I?"

"How…?"

"I've got a sharp eye," Bartholomew asked. "And I can tell how you think. Cause we're not so different, are we?"

It was not often that Cain felt truly uncomfortable, and right now, he felt very uncomfortable.

"Why did you send me that letter?" Cain asked, sharply. "Why are you telling me to say something to Riff? Why the hell do you care so much?"

"Do you know why I'm here?" Without waiting for an answer, Bartholomew answered, "It's because I fell in love with another man. Tamara found out and his family, and I got sued."

"So you're just out for revenge?" Cain rose from his seat once again, and turned toward the door. "I'm sorry, I avenge people I've never met. All I see here is self-pity, because Prince Charming doesn't give a damn."

"I can't see him, his family won't let me," Bartholomew said. When Cain didn't look back he said, "You'd get revenge for yourself, wouldn't you? Mr. Australia's in your house."

That got Cain's attention. He turned back around and looked intently at the youngest Throckmorton brother. His pride wouldn't allow him to inquire any further, though. He walked out the door without another word.

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"Master Cain?"

Cain turned in his chair to look at his butler, before returning his attention back out the window of his study. He felt bad for having ignored Riff for the most part after they left the prison, and it made him feel even worse when he heard the slight hurt in the other man's voice. Bartholomew's comment about Cain confessing had struck a little too close to home, and forced him to really think about what he felt. It was hard to even look at Riff now.

"We can't just get someone to tell us that they're from Australia," Cain said, finally.

"No, Sir." Riff sounded a little disappointed to that this was what came up when his master finally decided to talk to him.

"Come here," Cain said.

Soft footsteps on carpet, and Riff stood next to him. Cain looked up, finally paying full attention to Riff. And what he saw in his face was worry.

"Are you alright, Sir?" Riff asked. "Do you want to talk about what Mr. Throckmorton said to you?"

Cain didn't want to, and did all at the same time. He wanted to, but he didn't want Riff to know that the reason he was talking about it was because he was told to by Bartholomew. Instead he took one of Riff's hands and studied it.

"…not really," he said, finally. But then, he asked, "Riff, what do you think of me?"

The was a stunned paused. "…I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Sir."

"Don't call me that," Cain said. "Not right now."

He looked back up to see confusion written all over Riff's face. After a minute, Cain couldn't take it anymore and looked across the room.

"…nevermind."

Riff knelt down to look Cain in the eyes, and turned his master's face to look at him.

"You know that if you ever need me, I'm here," he said.

Cain smiled slightly. "I know, Riff."

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Notes: Yeah. I know. I'm feeling slightly evil…it'll probably happen next chapter. But this part Wine is so long already, I couldn't add in a huge love scene. I've gone and loaded people down with even more information, and started the beginning of the end, and even started the beginning of Cain getting up the courage to confess to Riff! That's a lot to do in one chapter! There's actually gonna be a "Wine, Part Four"!

I'm pretty proud of myself for accidentally following the Count Cain tradition and incorporating another story (even though, technically, a Shakespeare play isn't a 'story'). Titus Andronicus is my favorite play by Shakespeare. It's a huge story about revenge, in the goriest way, with a moral at the end. So Tamara is an evil Goth (early German) queen who marries the Emperor of Rome, but is having an affair with her servant, Aaron. She's out to get revenge on a Roman General, who in turn gets his revenge on her, and it goes on and on. Bartholomew is sort of representing Titus's daughter, who got her hands and tongue cut out so she couldn't squeal on Tamara's sons, but they find another way. Read it if you really want to know. Or find a summary.

EternalSailorSolarWind – I hope you got all that…it's more "butt loads of information" Yes, that's what it all means…sort of.

Hatori Soma – There! You got your fluff! Really, first and foremost, this is a mystery, so the plot comes first. I'm trying to incorporate my CainxRiffness without having it take over