Only in America: Skinner's Story

A TPDoEQ special edition

by Lady Norbert

6 May 1900

I'm starting to think Sawyer may be onto something.

He insists that there's more to this marriage situation than we realise, that something is really out of place. At first I didn't believe it...but I'm starting to get the same impression.

It's been two days now, and we've barely seen Bess. She turns up for meals, but doesn't say much. She enlisted Mina to be her matron of honour and to help her pick out a wedding dress, and Nemo to give her away. I can hardly stand to look at her, to tell the truth; I never felt anything in my whole bloody life that hurt this much.

It doesn't seem to matter, though, that I can't look at her. She doesn't look at me either.

There's a part of me that wants to be mad at her, really. Like she betrayed me. Like she led me on.

Except I know this girl, and I know she wouldn't do that.

So I have to wonder if Sawyer's right. One thing's for sure - the Elizabeth Quatermain who's here right now is not the same Elizabeth Quatermain I took to a ball a few days ago.

7 May 1900

Three more days until this blasted wedding.

Two more days until we have to sit through a ruddy engagement dinner. As if we want to celebrate this.

Nobody in the League is happy about it. Least of all me, of course, but Mina and Jeks and Nemo - they're all irritated. We talk about it when Bess isn't around - which is most of the time; she's been hiding in her room a lot. I've noticed they all try not to look at me too much when it's being discussed.

Of course, for Bess's sake we put on happy faces when she's around - well, sort of. I don't look too happy, I know it. I don't much care, either. It's taking all my effort not to beat Everett to a bloody pulp when he comes to dinner; give me some credit.

8 May 1900

She went out a little while ago to have her dress altered. Tom's fit to be tied. He kept telling me I ought to break down her door, or something, and make her tell me what's going on.

"The hell am I supposed to do?" I asked him. "She wants a normal life. God knows that's something she'll never have with me, League or no League."

"Skinner...I don't know how many ways I can say this." He was fuming. "Elizabeth. Does. Not. Love. Everett." He paced around the room, muttering. When I didn't answer, he glared at me. "Dammit, Skinner, she loves you!"

"I don't think she does, Sawyer. No differently than she loves you, anyway." I looked at the card game we were supposed to be playing. "Hell, why don't you marry her?"

"Me? Are you crazy?"

"Can't think of a better way things could go, really." I was serious, even if it made my stomach hurt. "You'd treat her properly. You wouldn't take her away from us. And I could hang around and be Uncle Skinner to your little Sawyerlings."

He actually laughed, a little. "That would work," he replied sarcastically, "except that it would be wrong in more ways than I can count." He threw himself back into his chair. "You're the one she wants. Me, I'm her brother. Not complaining, either - I like the job."

We heard voices then, from outside the parlour; Bess was back, speaking briefly to Mrs. Singer. Then up the stairs straightaway, gone to hide again.

"Right, that's it," Sawyer snapped. "I'm going to do something about this." And he left. What he did, I don't really know, but it seems to have involved that friend of his, Becky; saw her leaving the hotel a while later.

9 May 1900

Well, this is inconvenient.

Day started out badly and just went downhill. I woke up remembering that tonight's the bloody engagement dinner, and I would have to dress nice and smile and pretend to be happy about everything. Kind of a dry run for tomorrow.

I went back up to my room after lunch, to get my coat; thought I'd go for a walk, try to ignore everything. I was passing Bess's room on my way back down when I heard it. She was crying.

I stood outside the door for a minute, listening. I put my ear to the door to hear if she said anything, but she didn't...just kept on crying fit to break any man's heart. I was real close, then, to doing what Sawyer suggested, and trying to get her to talk to me - trying to tell her what I'd wanted to tell her days before.

Couldn't quite do it. Not sure what stopped me, unless it's just that I'm a coward. So I went downstairs. And who should I run into but Everett.

I stared at him for a minute. I was already angry that something had upset Bess so much she was crying; seeing him only made it worse. And I knew it was time I did something.

"Mr. Everett," I said, in the most controlled voice I could manage, "why don't we have a little chat, you and I?" Outside. Somewhere private."

He rolled his eyes at me, but said, "Very well, Mr. Skinner." He almost looked like he'd been expecting this.

We went out back, away from anyone who could hear us. "Now," he said in a bored voice that reminded me - just when I thought he couldn't be more grating - of Dorian Gray, "can we make this quick? I do have an engagement dinner to prepare for."

"Come right to the point, then. What do you think you're playing at?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. What the hell are you doing?"

"I believe I am getting married tomorrow. Oh, my goodness, Mr. Skinner, are you jealous?"

I very much wanted to beat the smirk off of his face, but I checked the impulse. I needed to find out what he was up to. "You don't love her and you know it. So what are you up to?"

I didn't know for certain that that was true. I'd suspected it - I knew his feelings for her couldn't come close to my own - but I wasn't completely sure that he didn't love her at all. He confirmed it with a snort. "Love? Please. We're not in a fairytale, Mr. Skinner. The princess is not going to kiss you and turn you into a prince. This marriage comes with a number of perks, I admit, but that isn't one of them."

I was so startled, I forgot to be angry. "What are you talking about, 'perks'? Just what exactly are you after, Everett?"

He shrugged. "Marriage to Elizabeth is a means to an end, nothing more. I may be playing the doting swain, but she herself doesn't have anything to offer me that I can't get somewhere else. I'm after a bigger fish here." Then he smiled. "I just have to take the blush off your English rose to get to it."

I snapped. Next thing I knew, my hands were on his throat. "Don't you ever talk like that about her!"

I would have loved to strangle him, but I'd barely gotten a decent grip before much larger hands pulled me off of him. I should have known better than to think Everett's bodyguards weren't around; they yanked me away from their boss and held my arms behind my back. He straightened his tie and gave me a look, like I was a slug or something. For a minute he just stared; I guess he was thinking.

"Take him to the old Royal mine, gents. If he tries to climb out of the shaft, shoot him. We'll let him out after the wedding...if his precious Elizabeth behaves herself for me." I wrestled against the grip I was in, but couldn't break free. He gave me a very nasty smile. "I'll be sure to let you know how everything goes, Mr. Skinner."

My options were limited, but I needed to do something to the bastard. So I spit in his face. Last thing I remember, too, before I was knocked senseless. When I came to, I was in the mine shaft.

I'll say this for Everett - he's not stupid. If he'd had me put anywhere else, I could have stripped down and sneaked away without being seen. But I can feel the coal dust on my face; it's in my mouth. There's no water to wash. He trapped me, same as he trapped Bess.