Chapter Fourteen: A Scandal in the British Empire
June 23rd, 1879
London, England, United Kingdom, Europe
It was silent as Marie stopped talking. She stared stubbornly down at her hands—her broken hands. They hurt, throbbed with the memory of the marble peacock crushing the delicate finger joints. Tears burned in her eyes, but they didn't fall. She wouldn't let them. Taking a chance, she glanced at everyone's faces.
Fred looked disturbed, his gaze was locked on her hands, but when he noticed her looking, he quickly averted his gaze. He looked uncomfortable despite having dealt with much worse situations before. Marie figured it was because he knew her and was friends with her. It would be disturbing to anyone. If it weren't, she'd be worried for their health.
Sebastian was fiddling with his own glove, looking sympathetic to her story. Marie had noticed he never took off the glove while around the group much like her, and it had only taken an inquiry to William to discover he had been in a situation similar to Marie. But to lose an entire hand… And because he had been ambushed during the war too. She couldn't begin to imagine what it was like.
Louis and William looked mildly disturbed but otherwise unaffected. They rarely ever looked upset or uncomfortable about anything. Albert, however, looked upset. He looked angry. He sat in his seat with hands clenched and a dark look in his eyes.
Nessie was dabbing tears from her eyes with a handkerchief. Tears dripped from her cheeks and onto her skirt as she stood up, making her way over to Marie. She helped her to her feet and wrapped her in a tight hug. Marie froze for a moment before returning the affection.
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that. Thank you for telling us." Nessie whispered in Marie's ear and pulled back, giving her a watery smile as she did so.
"Thank you, Nessie," Marie whispered back and gave a tear-filled smile of her own.
…
June 26th, 1879
London, England, United Kingdom, Europe
It was almost strange after that whole affair. For a few days, everyone avoided her; whether they were processing everything or just avoiding her, she didn't know. Marie simply took it in stride and let them. She used the time to herself to wander the streets of London, dressed in clothes she hadn't worn in months and thinking about things she hadn't thought about in years.
Mainly Matthew.
She thought about all the happy memories she had made with him while under Lord Christie's service.
But all thoughts eventually led back to that night. So she tried her best not to think too much about it.
Glancing up from her thoughts, Marie found herself at the cemetery. She slowly entered in, drawing her skirts about her, and walked the rows and rows of headstones. Her dress was simple, olive green in color with long sleeves and a collared neck with white buttons down the front. It was one of the plainest dresses she owned now, one she wore when she didn't feel like dressing the part of a noblewoman. She adjusted her gloves—long leather riding gloves that stretched up her forearms—and made it to the headstone she had been looking for.
Paula Black.
Her grandmother.
Marie knelt before the headstone and brushed off the dust and dirt that caked the thing. Already she felt the knot of melancholy that always appeared when she visited. She never knew where her parents had been buried; they had been buried in a pauper's grave somewhere unknown. The only reason her grandmother had a headstone was because Marie had been employed at the time and could therefore afford it.
Someone approached from behind and came to an abrupt stop. She glanced out of the corner of her eye; she spotted him.
Matthew. Holding a bouquet of forget-me-not flowers and watching her with wide eyes.
Marie hurriedly stood and turned to face him, brushing off her skirts as she did so. The two of them stood in silence, a breeze blowing through and rustling the skirts of her dress and his bouquet of flowers.
"M-Matthew… What are you doing here?" She asked shakily, watching him warily. He was watching her with those sad eyes that had become so normal to her now.
"I-I was visiting your grandmother. She likes forget-me-nots, right?" He asked and stepped beside her, setting the flowers down. Marie blinked, not expecting him to remember such a minor detail.
"I- Yes. Why are you visiting her grave exactly?" She couldn't help but ask as Matthew straightened up; he had gotten taller over the years, nearing six feet if she had to wager a guess. He stood motionless, staring at the gravestone and refusing to look at her.
"Because I missed you. I know you always used to come here when you were upset. This was the only place I could think of that you would come. Glad I was right." He said matter of factly, and Marie looked down to the gravestone, watching the flowers move in the slight breeze.
"I didn't realize I was so predictable." That was all she said before they lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.
Moments passed in utter quiet before Matthew spoke again.
"Why did you leave?" His voice cracked, and Marie refused to look over for fear of seeing him cry. If he cried, she would break down, and she couldn't have that. So instead, she stared stubbornly at her gloved hands, thinking of how to answer. She couldn't tell the truth. That would break him. To know his own father drove her out.
"I can't tell you. You'll hate me if I do." Was all she said, twisting her hands over and over as she waited for him to respond.
"What happened to your hands?" He asked instead of demanding answers, and Marie bit her lip so hard she nearly tasted blood. The bloody peacock laughed behind her eyes. She saw it every time she blinked.
"I can't tell you. You'll hate me if I do." She said instead and saw Matthew clench his hands into fists out of the corner of her eye.
"Can you tell me anything?" He asked, and she turned away from the grave, heading towards the gates, and whispered to him as she passed,
"Only that I'm sorry."
…
Marie made it back to the Moriarty estate with no issues. But as Louis opened the door, he gestured for her to follow him.
"My brothers wish to speak with you. Follow me." He said, and she caught him staring at her hands. Most of the group did when they thought she wasn't looking. Part of her wanted to show them her hands already, but the other part of her knew she couldn't.
Albert and William were sitting in the parlor, sipping cups of tea as they waited for Marie to take a seat.
"I hope your day has gone well so far?" Albert asked as Marie sat in the chair across from him. She nodded, accepting a cup of tea from Louis with a quiet 'thank you.' He quickly excused himself, saying he had duties to attend to.
"It has. Louis said you wished to see me?" She purposely left out that she had seen Matthew again. They didn't need to know every aspect of her day. At this, William nodded, setting his cup of tea down and steepling his fingers.
"Yes, I am sending you with Albert to a masquerade ball tonight. You will be there as staff. I need you to poison Baron Rollinson." He explained, and Marie sat back in her seat, thinking it over. It wouldn't be too hard. She had already poisoned several nobles in public places before. So this shouldn't be any different.
"Alright, but what kind of poison do you need? And might I ask why we are doing this at a masquerade ball?" She asked, and William shrugged,
"Preferably something like you used on Lady Amelia Ruth. And it's to gather information on a certain Irene Adler. I believe you have heard of her?" Marie had—Irene was a former prima donna that Lady Christie was a massive admirer of. Marie had never seen one of her performances herself, but she had heard only good things about the woman.
"I've heard of her. What about her?" She asked, and William was silent while he chose his words.
"She has a particular document Albert has been tasked with retrieving for MI6. So we are going to the masquerade ball to find out just what document she has stolen."
…
Marie dodged and weaved through the crowds of noblemen and women, dressed in all black save for her white apron and leather gloves. It had been no trouble at all infiltrating the ball, especially since Albert was the one arranging the thing in the first place. She merely had to show up in uniform and ask for instructions from the head of staff. "People really need to step up their security." She thought and smiled as someone took a drink off her tray. It wasn't Baron Rollinson, but she already had a plan for him.
Speaking of which, she best put her plan into action now—especially since Albert had already been disqualified from the "Lord of Crimes" game and had headed upstairs with a young man with slicked-back black hair. The young man must be Irene Adler in disguise if Marie had to wager a guess.
She smiled welcomingly to Baron Rollinson and offered her tray,
"More wine Baron Rollinson?" She asked, and he scoffed at something a colleague said before taking the offered glass from Marie, taking a large swig of the poisoned wine glass. Marie left him and gave a discrete nod to Albert. He responded with a nod of his own and continued talking to the man next to him.
It took less than half an hour.
Within no less than twenty minutes, Baron Rollinson doubled over wheezing, clutching at his chest as he tried to breathe. Just as he was outed as the "Lord of Crimes" for the masquerade game. It looks like the poison was working well. Marie slipped away quietly as the commotion ensued and snuck a look towards Albert and the man presumed to be Irene.
Irene looked as if she was going to be sick as she watched Baron Rollinson die. The masquerade staff quickly moved the body out of the ballroom, and Marie exited the room as the masquerade continued. It was sickening. No one cared that a man had just died. All they cared about was the party.
Soon the party was back in full swing with a new round of the Lord of Crimes game beginning again. Marie slipped away to the kitchens, where she took a fresh tray of wine and busied herself passing out the wine glasses. She did this until Albert gave her the signal, and she was able to sneak away to the carriage waiting for her and Albert. Louis sat at the head of the carriage, holding the reins. He gave her a nod as she waved and climbed inside.
Albert followed soon after, shutting the carriage door behind him. He settled in quickly, sitting across from her, and the carriage started in motion.
"How did speaking with Irene go?" She asked after a few moments in silence. Albert hummed,
"Rather well, I think. I believe Irene will give us the document in question." He replied as he adjusted his gloves and tophat.
The two of them were silent for a moment before Albert spoke again.
"If I may ask… Why did you start poisoning people, Marie?" He asked, looking directly into her hazel eyes with his own green ones. It felt almost like an interrogation, but Marie knew that wasn't the case. Instead, he was looking at her with a soft, curious sort of gaze. Marie sat back in her seat, head tilting up to the ceiling of the rocking carriage as she thought it over.
"I suppose it was because I wanted to help. There are so many people in situations like Lady Christie. I couldn't help her, but I could help others. I already had some knowledge of poisonous plants from my time as a gardener. Still, my mother and grandmother's apothecary shop had a lot of remedies that could easily be fatal if misused. So over time, I learned even more poisons and got to where I am now. Eight years later, and here I am." She explained after gathering her words. It was hard explaining something she had internalized for so long. Never before had she explained to anyone her motives behind killing others.
She had plenty of blood on her hands, but she didn't mind. As long as she made a difference—especially with William's plan—that was all that mattered.
