Chapter Nine: Amelia Ruth
"Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die." ~Unknown
*Part Two of my double update this week for Thanksgiving! Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate!*
June 21st, 1879
London, England, United Kingdom, Europe
Marie sat patiently in her seat as noblemen and women alike bustled around her. She sipped idly at a cup of tea and scanned the people milling about. In her free hand, she played with the fabric of her skirt, her hands clothed in a pair of silk gloves.
She was dressed the part of a noblewoman sitting at a tea garden, sipping on a cup of tea. Clothed in a beautiful silken gown, she adjusted her skirts as she waited. Her client should be here soon.
The dress itself was magnificent, a gorgeous champagne color with long, lace, bell-shaped sleeves that fell to her forearms. The dress also had ruffles adorning the front, hung to the floor, and had satin buttons up the bodice to sit underneath a neat bowtie of the same color. She wore a high-crowned hat, with turned-up brims, tilted over her forehead. It had been decorated with lace and white roses. Her hair had been parted down the middle and was styled in a low curled bun at the nape of her neck. According to Albert, it was one of the newest fashions among high-class ladies. Still, it was one of the fanciest things she had ever worn, and she felt extremely out of place.
However, she simply sat and sipped at her tea and nibbled at her biscuits like a proper noblewoman and hoped no one noticed how uncomfortable she felt.
"Sip slower. You're drinking like a racehorse." Nessie Morgan commented from her place at Marie's side, drinking her own tea with elegance and poise, and Marie had to refrain from glaring.
"It's boiling out, and I'm quite uncomfortable. So forgive me if I seem a bit flustered." She said as politely as she could, remembering the lessons she had received from Nessie at the last moment and speaking as properly as she dared. She drew out her silken fan and began to fan herself lightly with it.
It was indeed hot out, with not a cloud in the sky and the sun beating down on everyone in the tea garden. All the women had their fans out, fanning their faces lightly as they chatted and gossiped. Marie had to stop from cringing at the embarrassing gossip she overheard and instead turned her attention to Nessie.
She was dressed in a high collared and long-sleeved mourning gown. She had foregone the veil and instead had her hair styled in a tight updo with a bonnet. There had been whispers of scandal when the two of them first arrived at the tea garden. After all, it had barely been five months since Nessie had last been seen in public, and she wasn't supposed to be seen for at least a year while in mourning—but people had quickly ignored them in favor of their more exciting gossip.
A woman with blazing ginger hair and pale skin took a seat at their table—dressed in a beautiful dress with a white pearled bodice and green velvet skirts—adjusting her skirts as she poured herself a cup of tea.
"Amelia Ruth, I presume?" Marie asked. The woman nodded and cleared her throat.
"And you are?" She asked, and this time, Nessie piped up.
"I'm Nessie Morgan. This woman is my friend and confidant, Alice St. Clair. We take inquiries for Ms. Dubois." She said, playing her role perfectly.
The note from this woman had been suspicious, and Marie had enlisted Nessie's help with setting up a scenario in which everyone could safely meet.
The plan was: Nessie and Marie (posing as Alice St. Clair) would meet this Amelia Ruth as noblewomen and gather the information needed to see if Marie would help her with her situation. The idea was that even if someone caught them, Nessie would be safe as she was a proper noblewoman with money and status to keep her from harm, and Marie would be safe as she wasn't using her real name and her fake name was untraceable.
Marie drew to mind the letter she had received two days prior.
"The butler found them together, in the bedroom.
We've a gathering in four days, and she will be in attendance.
Perchance you've something to incite lust? At noon for tea, I will meet you at Cuper's Gardens on the south side of the River Thames in Lambeth, London."
Amelia Ruth
"Right, it's a pleasure. Might we get straight to the point?" Amelia asked, and Nessie nodded, effortlessly taking control of the conversation. Part of their plan was Marie was to say as little as possible so as to not draw attention to herself.
"Right, when would you need this prepared by?" She asked, going off of the careful script Marie had prepared and had her memorize. Amelia frowned and plucked her fan from her purse and began to fan herself with it,
"I stated in my letter, didn't I? She is coming in two days' time." She said urgently, her tone of voice indicating she certainly did not want to argue about the little details. But there was something Marie just couldn't let go of.
"She?" Marie asked, cutting Nessie off from what she had been about to say and cutting a hole in their plan where she would say little to nothing at all. Amelia nodded, her fan picking up speed to a faster tempo.
"I want to poison my husband's mistress."
…
Marie threaded her fingers together in front of her and rested her chin on her interlaced fingers. She was sitting at her desk, staring out the window and watching commoners pass by beneath her on the street.
What should she do?
She had left Amelia Ruth with a message that she'd contact her in one day with her answer. Her initial response had been no, but she acquiesced when Amelia threatened to get the police involved.
Should Marie relent and poison the mistress? Her gut told her no, that she had taken an oath to protect and help men and women in trouble. But if she didn't, she risked getting outed to the police and executed.
There was a knock on her door.
Turning, she stood and crossed the space to her bedroom door and twisted the bronze knob.
Albert James Moriarty stood outside the door. She paused for just a moment before speaking,
"Albert? What are you doing here?" She asked, and Albert adjusted his suitcoat.
"I heard you were in a bit of a predicament and hoped to lend a listening ear, maybe offer some advice. Perhaps we could sit in the parlor? I know Fred just put some tea on." He explained, and she nodded her head with a quiet 'ah' before following him out into the hallway.
The two of them sat in the parlor—an appropriate distance from each other, of course—each with cups of tea as Marie explained the situation. After her explanation, she sat back, fiddling with the silken lining of her gloves. Albert was quiet for a moment, then two.
"It seems you have quite the problem." He said finally, and she nodded with a breathless laugh.
"You have that right. And I haven't the faintest idea of where to start all of it." She replied and massaged her temples. Her knuckles ached, and she knew they were swollen and red. She had seen rain clouds on her way home.
Albert gathered her attention by setting his teacup down and clasping his hands together.
"If I may, I may have an idea."
