Thanks again for the reviews on the last chapter - I appreciate them all so much. I hope you can still hang in to see where this goes!

Chapter 35
A Tavern and a Storm

"Let me lead the way," Marcus said as they stepped out of the carriage outside the Kensington Tavern. "I have spent time in places like this before. In fact, I may have even been here, they all look the same." The drab building had seen better days, with a cracked sign that hung crookedly in front.

Derek eyed the dingy establishment. "Interesting. Let's get this over with, then."

"Wait…" Marcus undid his cravat and tossed it back inside the coach, then undoing the top buttons of his shirt. "You don't want to look like you've taken a wrong turn into a den of iniquity. As Hunter pointed out, it's a little rough at the edges here."

"I suppose you are the authority," Derek grinned, following Marcus' example.

"That's better, but no one is going to mistake you for anything but nobility, Shep."

"I am not entirely helpless, Sloan," Derek reminded him. "I've seen my share of taverns, as well. But lead the way..."

Marcus pushed the door open, and they stepped inside. The place was crowded, set with several gaming tables of various persuasions. There was a haze of cigar smoke in the air, and it was loud with the sound of raised voices and the rattle of dice. They threaded their way towards the hazard table, stopping to observe the bets placed, while keeping an eye on the surrounding group of men.

A serving girl sashayed up to them, balancing a tray in her hand. Her low cut gown displayed her ample bosom, and her hair was pulled up into a haphazard arrangement. Rouge dotted her cheeks, and her lips were painted bright red.

"Well 'allo there, gents." Her eyes swept over them, assessing their expensive clothing. "Something to drink, m'lords?" She gave them a smile that indicated she would be willing to serve more than just alcohol, if they were interested.

"Just a whiskey," Marcus told her, "and one for my friend."

Derek waited until she was gone before speaking. "I don't see Rhys anywhere, do you?"

"No. I'll place a few wagers, and loosen up a few tongues with a free drink or two. If anyone's seen him lately, they might be more willing to talk if I lose some money to them." Marcus rolled up his shirtsleeves, and stepped closer to the table, while Derek was content to stand back, arms folded over his chest.

When the waitress returned with two watery looking tumblers of whiskey, Derek held out the payment for her. She took it with a wink, and deposited it in the bodice of her dress. "You need anythin' else, m'lord, you just wave at me," she beamed. "M'name's Sally." She leaned a little closer, and he caught a whiff of cheap perfume and smoke that clung to her. "By the way, guv, you look like yer slummin', if I say so meself…"

Derek glanced towards Marcus, who was throwing dice and losing badly, from the sounds of it. "We're looking for a friend, said he might be here."

"Oh…is he a toff like you then?"

"I suppose you could say that, but he might not look it."

"We gets all kinds in here, m'lord. They like to pop round the bar, away from the wife, have a bit o' fun." She winked at him again. "You need a bit o' fun, m'lord?" Her hip swung out, bumping him.

"No, thank you, Sally. My wife is all I need." Derek raised the glass, and took a swallow, resisting the urge to grimace at the cheap whiskey, watered down as it was.

"Ah, an' she must a lucky woman," Sally sighed. Someone else called out for her, and she turned to leave. "Good luck finding your friend, m'lord."

There was a loud cheer from the table, and Derek looked back to see Marcus shaking his head, as the game ended. He hoped that the lure of the gambling tables wouldn't pull Marcus back as well. Izzie wouldn't be happy with him.

The dealer at the table took the pile of notes Marcus tossed at him, and the rest of the patrons eagerly crowded around. "Drinks for everyone here!" Marcus called out, and Sally was there, taking orders. "And if you can tell me if you know Rhys Huntington, I'll buy another round."

Several men spoke up, offering tales that seemed too outlandish to believe. "Old Rhys..he liked to play the tables, he did..."

"Has he been here lately?"

"Naw...not in a few days or so...lost a pile he did. Right pissed about it too..."

"I see. Did he owe money to anyone in particular?"

The man shrugged. "Just the table here, I reckon..."

Only one man had kept quiet, keeping his distance from the raucous group, head down, obscured by the hood of his cloak. Now he tried to make his way unobserved, but Derek set aside his glass, and followed, towards the door. He caught Marcus' eye, and jerked his head towards the door, keeping pace with the man disappearing outside.

He increased his pace, and Derek hurried to make sure he could catch him. Outside, the misty rain enveloped them, and the other man hurried away over the cobblestones, his black coat flapping behind him. Derek could hear Marcus behind him, bootheels on the stones, as they made their way through the dark streets. The other man disappeared around a corner, and Derek paused, waiting for Marcus.

"Go around the other side..." he muttered.

Marcus nodded, moving quietly through a side alley, as Derek edged towards the corner. He took a deep breath, and then stepped around the corner, fists clenched in anticipation. The street was empty, and he exhaled in frustration. He moved forward cautiously, keeping his steps quiet. Before he was too far, he heard a scuffling sound and then Marcus' voice. Moving quickly, he ducked into the alley where the sounds came from.

Marcus had the other man backed against the wall, his hand at his throat. "Why did you run?" he demanded. Equally matched in size, they struggled together as Derek joined them. Realization dawned, and he quickly pushed the hood away from the man's head.

"Huntington! What the hell are you doing hiding?"

Rhys shook his head angrily, pushing Marcus' hands away from him. "Why does one normally hide, Shepherd? I have a good reason, which I don't necessarily wish to share with you. What the hell are YOU doing looking for me?"

"In case you've forgotten, you have a wife that you left alone with a baby, without any means of looking after herself," Derek said, his voice cold.

"Cordelia sent you?" Rhys frowned. "Is she all right?" He swayed a little, and then leaned back against the dirty brick wall behind him. From what they could see in the darkened alley, Rhys' clothing was rather disheveled and smelling of cheap whiskey, and he had a bruise around his eye socket.

"You're drunk."

"An excellent observation, my man," Rhys laughed. "Never accuse you of being a fool…"

Marcus exchanged a glance with Derek. "Maybe we should just leave him in his misery here."

"I am tempted….however…" Derek broke off, hearing the sound of footsteps hurrying along behind them. "Damn…we have company."

"This is why I am hiding!" Rhys muttered, attempting to run away, but Marcus grabbed his coat. "Let me go! It's me they're after, not you."

By this time, two men were gaining ground, and Derek realized they had no choice but to run, or risk being trapped in the alleyway. "The carriage…it's close by!"

They scrambled towards the street, keeping a firm grasp on Rhys' arm to keep him from getting away. Derek could hear shouting behind him, and he risked taking a look over his shoulder in time to see one of the men raise a pistol. "Get down!" He shoved Marcus down, and followed with Rhys, landing in the soggy rubbish that clogged the alley. The pistol shot whistled over them, and then another.

"Now what?" Marcus muttered.

Before Derek could speak, he heard the sound of the horse and carriage out on the cobblestones. "Run!" They hauled Rhys up and made a break for the street, where the Shepherd coach was waiting. Standing beside it, was Thomas Hunter, a pistol in his own hands. He brandished it towards the two men, while the driver was braced for immediate action, holding the dancing horses in place.

"What the devil?" Derek frowned, but had no time to process this turn of events. Thomas wrenched the door open for them, and they all tumbled inside. Another shot was fired, and Thomas fired back before swinging into the carriage as well, and Derek felt the coach take off as fast as the driver could urge the horses. As they lurched along the road, Derek blew out a relieved breath at their escape, and he raised one eyebrow towards Thomas.

"Thought you might need a bit o' help, Your Grace," Thomas grinned. "Tagged after you in case things went bad."

"Well, in that case, I think you have just earned yourself a job at Gracewood. Thank you, Hunter." He reached over to shake Thomas' hand.

"You're most welcome, and thank you, sir!"

Derek looked at Rhys then, slumped in the corner of the coach. "Now, tell me…what exactly have you gotten yourself into, Rhys…"

Meredith woke with a start, hearing the sound of thunder rumbling outside. For a moment, she was disoriented, putting her hand out for Derek. Then she remembered that he was away in London, and she sighed softly. She lay back against the pillows, closing her eyes, willing away the tense feeling that had invaded her sleep. After Cordelia had confided in her, and revealed the more violent nature of Rhys, Meredith had been more concerned about what was happening. As the rain beat down harder, she gave up trying to sleep, unable to find a comfortable position with the growing bulk of the baby pressing on her.

She sat up, and decided to check on the children; sometimes the thunder bothered them as well. Slipping on the velvet dressing gown, she took the lamp from the bedside table and ventured out into the corridor. Intermittent lightening flashed, and an especially loud crack of thunder made her gasp. "Silly, it's just a storm…" she told herself.

At the children's quarters, she silently made her way towards where they were sleeping. Meggie stirred from her bed, blinking at Meredith. "My lady…is everything all right?"

"Just fine, Meggie. I just couldn't sleep."

"I understand, ma'am…" Meggie yawned.

"Go back to sleep. I just want to see the children for a moment."

As if he had heard, Michael sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes. "Mama…it's noisy…"

"I know, but it's just thunder. Did it wake you?" She sat on the edge of his bed, and smoothed the hair away from his eyes.

He nodded. "I wish Papa was here…"

"He will be home soon," she soothed him. Then she heard the sound of little feet, and Hannah and Ella scampered across the floor to join them. "You're awake too…"

"The storm scared me…" Ella murmured, hiding her face against Meredith's side. "Can we sleep with you?"

"Please?" Hannah added. She had Henry clutched in her arms, and even the little ferret looked worried, as more thunder rolled overhead.

"Why not?" Meredith smiled. "Let me fetch Jamie, and we can all go together."

It seemed like the best solution, and soon they were all trailing behind her, as she carried James towards her bed. Hannah carried Henry, Ella had her favorite doll, and Michael had his stuffed bear. Along the way, they encountered Winston, who looked not quite as formal as usual in hastily thrown on trousers under a long nightshirt.

"My lady…?" he inquired, glancing at the procession.

"We're off to my bed. Is everything all right?"

"There was a crash outside, but I believe it is nothing serious."

"Oh, no…'

"I believe a branch came off one of the trees, nothing to worry about."

"Good. If you could send up some warm milk, perhaps…?"

"Consider it done." He bowed, and Meredith had to stifle a nervous giggle at seeing him try to maintain the usual decorum, while not looking the part.

"All right, on to bed then…" Once in her chamber, they scrambled onto the feather bedding, and she sat between them. "Much better like this, isn't it? Rather like a picnic…" Another burst of lightening lit the room, accompanied by thunder, and they all jumped. Henry burrowed under Hannah's arm, peeking out carefully.

"It's all right, you're safe in here. Thunder is just nature, being noisy. It can be very beautiful to watch, when you're indoors. But you never want to be caught outside."

"Papa likes the storms," Michael said. "He said so!"

Meredith smiled. "Well, he has his reasons…"

There was a soft tap at the door, and Meredith looked up, expecting to see one of the footmen with the milk, but instead Cordelia peeked around the door hesitantly. "Oh, my lady...I mean, Meredith...I thought you might be awake as well..."

"Yes, come in...we're having a little pillow party," Meredith smiled. "Join us..."

Cordelia padded across the floor, carrying Rebecca in her arms. She perched on the edge of the bed. "The storm is very strong. I hope it will be over soon."

"I believe so. They tend to blow over quickly here, just raging for awhile and then all is calm."

There was another knock at the door, and this time it was Winston himself with a tray of glasses and a jug of warmed milk. If he was surprised at the sight of everyone gathered on the bed, he gave no indication as usual. "Your milk, my lady...should I bring more?"

"This should be fine. I believe you can retire again, Winston. Thank you so much."

He bowed briefly. "Very well. Good night."

Once they all drank some of the milk, Meredith could see the children's eye drooping again. "Cordelia, do you know any stories you could tell?" She knew from their time at court that Cordelia had a gift for storytelling

"Oh, well, of course..."

"I'll hold Rebecca, if you like."

Everyone settled in together in the big bed, while the thunder decreased and the rain fell lighter. "All right, let's see..." Cordelia smiled, "...once upon a time...there was a King and Queen who tried for so long to have a baby, and after many years, they were blessed with a little girl. They were so happy, they had a fine christening for her, and invited the seven fairies in the kingdom to be her godmothers. It was a wonderful ceremony, and all of the townspeople celebrated..."

"What was her name?" Hannah asked, looking up at Cordelia.

"Her name was Aurora, and she was the prettiest little baby, and the fairies all blessed her with good fortune and all sorts of wonderful things..."

"What kind of things?" Michael asked.

"Oh, that she would be able to sing like an angel, dance gracefully, and play music to perfection..."

"Would she be able to ride ponies?"

Cordelia laughed. "Oh, of course, that was also a gift...but there was one old fairy that appeared at the end of the ceremony, who was unhappy that she had not been invited..."

"Why not?"

"She had been hiding in a tower for many years, and everyone forgot about her. She was sad and bitter, and did not like seeing anyone so happy. When it came her turn to speak, she placed a curse on the baby. That one day Aurora would prick her finger on a spindle and fall into a deep sleep that would last one hundred years..."

Both Hannah and Ella's eyes went round at this. The boys were starting to doze, lulled by the warmth of the bed, and their mother's arms around them. Rebecca was sleeping as well, and Meredith even found herself getting drowsy listening to the story of Sleeping Beauty. Rather an apt story, she mused.

"Can you tell us more?" Ella yawned. "Will Aurora be all right?"

"Well...for a long time she was. The King forbade anyone in the kingdom to own a spinning wheel, and all was well. But after the Princess's sixteenth birthday, she came upon an old woman spinning in a tower. The old woman was not aware of the curse, and invited Aurora to come and help her. That is the moment the old fairy's curse came true...Aurora pierced her finger, and fell into a deep sleep...a sound, dreamless sleep..."

There was silence in the room then, only the soft patter of rain against the windows. Cordelia looked around, and found everyone else was fast asleep as well. With a little sigh, she curled up, feeling more content than she had in days. She knew it was only for a short time, but she was grateful for Lady Meredith and the welcome she found here.