Chapter 9 – Not Quite Eleven In The Garden of Moral Ambiguity
Chrissiania fumed as the maids poured the tea. "Where did he go?"
The other debutantes made a show of sympathy for the girl, but their hearts weren't into it. Instead of throwing themselves at impossibilities, most of the belles of Runess had successfully ensnared prime husbands from nearby islands. They were too busy enjoying their victories to be brought down by Chrissiania's fury.
Annalinalou considered her catch. He was older and wealthy and she'd been elated that he'd suggested that their parents meet but now that the chase was through and she had her prey, it all felt kind of … flat.
Chrissiania glowered. It was unbecoming, but Annalinalou wasn't going to say so. Instead she asked, "No word from the servants on his whereabouts?"
"Of course not. They're worthless." Chrissiania gripped her teacup so hard that her knuckles whitened and murmured, "I know that the carriage is still in the driveway."
Linathia, daughter of Sir Torrance, raised an eyebrow. "Really, Chrissiania. Why not go after someone else? It's not as if there aren't other bachelors here."
"But none of them leave for months at a time!" she said sharply. Couldn't they see that was the whole point? Marines were gone on dangerous sea voyages that could possibly end with their untimely death. If she were lucky, she would be a young, rich widow within the first year!
Annalinalou ventured an opinion. "Have you considered that perhaps the man isn't interested?"
"In me?" Chrissiania asked. Her voice was polite, but had an edge to it.
"No, of course not." Annalinalou thought of something the Marine might not be interested that encompassed her friend. "In marriage! Yes, perhaps he isn't interested in marriage."
Chrissiania's voice lowered dangerously. "I don't care what he's interested in. Whether he likes it or not, that Marine is mine."
Marines! There was more than one and that changed everything!
She escaped from the watchful eyes of Jeffrey and made for the garden. Her feet and mind raced together.
Who would have thought that the main course for that pack of hyenas would bring back up? Or that the back up would be a woman? It wasn't very fair when Marines went around in dresses. That was almost undercover. Where was that woman's sense of pride? Or her desire to proclaim her personal values on her clothing so in-house thieves would have some warning?
Her partner was not going to like this.
The lights from the mansion did not penetrate the thick bushes of the ornamental maze, but she had memorized the way through it many months ago. In the middle of the labyrinth, she found her partner and his gang, waiting to begin the evening's 'festivities.'
"There are two Marines in there!" she whispered breathlessly.
Mr. 11 was not concerned. "There are three, Miss Thursday," he said. "There's also one in the stable playing cards with the groomsmen. Or didn't you know that?"
She mumbled something conciliatory. Of course she didn't know that. She'd been hanging up coats and then passing out crepes and then helping with the washing up in the kitchens while all they had been doing was skulking in the weeds, which didn't take much talent at all.
She wished she hadn't been paired with such a jerk, but a Baroque Works agent didn't question the Management's decisions. Mr. 0 sounded scary on the phone, Miss All-Sunday just was scary and she wasn't even going to think about that psychotic buzzard and otter combination.
Her partner continued. "Three Marines mean nothing. They are outnumbered and if they are attending this kind of event, they must be very poor Marines indeed. The plan continues."
They were supposed to be partners, she thought sullenly, but he had made it very clear that he was the boss of the operations. Huh. She was one of the best thieves in this part of the Grandline. She could melt into any social situation; be a duchess or a maid or a man even and no one was the wiser. But did he appreciate her abilities? No. Not in the slightest.
She consoled herself with that fact that her ridiculous costume was due to her work and not because she had extremely poor fashion taste.
"Now get back there before someone notices you are missing. Idiot."
She nodded. I may be an idiot, but your hat is ugly and you smell like my grandfather.
She found her way out of the maze and was about to cross the garden to the patio doors when she was distracted. A bright point of light hovered in the darkness. Fireflies? she wondered.
No, not unless fireflies favored cigars.
Damn. The gardener. She approached the dark silhouette sitting under the willow tree and played with the thin knife concealed in the pocket of her uniform. She would really hate to have to kill one of the staff…but oh well. Eggs and omelets and all that.
She addressed the smoldering end glowing in the night as she stalked forward. "Samuel, you know you're supposed to make yourself scarce during the party! Jeffrey doesn't like the outside staff hanging around where guest can see them. Why aren't you playing cards with the rest of the fellows in the stable?"
Then she saw she was speaking to a guest and not a gardener. "M'lord! So sorry, m'lord, I didn't mean to insinuate that you were one of the help, m'lord. Please forgive my rudeness."
She apologized and curtsied and kowtowed and reflected that if she had to kill one of those powdered jerks, it would be twice as hard to explain but she wouldn't feel half as bad about it. So that worked out mathematically.
The guest waved off her apologies in a cloud of cigar smoke. "I think I found something you lost."
A small figure sat next to the guest on the bench. It was clutching a blanket and sucking its thumb industriously. "Master Clarence! Nanny's been going mad with worry!"
And rightly so. For while bad things happened when Master Clarence was around, much worse things happened when he wasn't. It was best to have the boy where you could see him.
"Clarence, huh?" the guest asked the boy. When Master Clarence nodded, the guest shook his head and said something about a haircut. And boxing lessons?
"Excuse me, m'lord?" She kept her hand on the knife concealed in her maid's uniform.
"Your what?"
"M'lord?" She was ready to gut the guest from neck to navel if necessary.
"Never mind. Is it over?"
"Is what over, m'lord?" She doubted that being witness to a grisly murder would scar Master Clarence much if that rumor about what he had been caught doing to the kittens in the barn was true.
"That." He motioned towards the house.
"Not quite, m'lord. I believe it is time for the ladies to have tea and for the gentlemen to retire to Lord Fop's study."
"What do the gentlemen do in Lord Fop's study?" The guest said gentlemen in the same way other people said cockroach.
"What they always do, m'lord. Drink brandy and smoke cigars." She was confused. He didn't know that? Was he drunk as well as naturally stupid? She hoped so. It would make her work easier. "I'm sorry that Master Clarence bothered you, m'lord. I'll take him back to Nanny, m'lord."
And then come back to finish you.
She held out her hand though she wasn't quite sure how Master Clarence was going to take it unless he sprouted another arm. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility; an extramarital affair between Lady Fop and Beelzebub seemed highly likely.
"Hang on," the man said. He sat there for a moment, contemplating the stub that was left of his cigar as if it was the answer to one of society's major social ills.
Then he reached for the long white coat hanging on the back of the bench. She almost gasped aloud. Of all the people to come across.
But the Marine couldn't have heard anything or she would have been arrested by now.
"You're coming with me."
Caught! Her lips curled into a sneer. "Not on your – "
"Let's go, kid." Master Clarence slid off the bench obediently. The Marine's attention swung back to her like a searchlight. She tried not to cringe. "Did you say something?"
Be a maid, Thursday. Act maid-y and get away from the Marine. "No, m'lord."
She led the way back and calmed her nerves. She just had to hand the Marine over to the pit bulls inside and wait for the chaos to begin.
It wouldn't be long now.
