herrington house

sunday – day eight

Firstly you must always implicitly obey orders, without attempting to form any opinion of your own regarding their propriety. Secondly, you must consider every man your enemy who speaks ill of your king; and thirdly you must hate a Frenchman as you hate the devil.
Horatio Nelson

When Stephen came from the attic and into the drawing room Kiara was practicing at her piano-forte and he stopped suddenly as the song struck him. It was so melancholy and dark he knew he had heard it before he just didn't know where he knew the name and the composer he just couldn't place them. He felt sorry for the girl playing who had lost her mother when she was very young, her brother and remote father more recently, now with her maternal grandfather dead she hardly had any family left. Perhaps that was it – her sorrow brought new life to the piece and made it solely hers.

He came into her view; "I must again insist that no one enter the attic until my return."

"Where are you off to?" She asked continuing to play.

"I can easily hide myself in London – I should be worried if any of this came about in the country. And I would ask a favor of you?"

"Yes?"

"Would you have someone deliver this out for me. Just a note containing instructions on - a most severe case I'm afraid." He said looking down to it.

"Of course. Isn't there anything else?"

"No my dear – I have inquires to make. I'll be back for my parcel when this whole affair is settled. She stood from her piano-forte, "good luck Stephen." He bowed and quit the house.

"'as the Doctor gone Mademoiselle?"

"Oui,"

"Comment vous portez-vous?"

"Ça va – quel temps fait-il?"

"Il fait mauvais – il est venteux."

Kiara sighed, "Cela ne fait rien."

"Je veux bien sortir avec vous." Madam Vasseur offered.

"NO-" her tranquil face from before hardened and there was an awkward moment of silence.

"Et cette lettre?" she asked meekly and Kiara gave her a cold look.

"Est-ce qu Richards a préparé le dîner?"

"Oui Mademoiselle."

"Bien – excusez-moi."

When the attic doors lock had been picked Kiara stood over the young corpse with harsh and indifferent eyes. Being at top of the house it was fairly hot and stuffy in the small attic with the smell of the corpse making even more unbearable.

"Now if I know the good Doctor..." she mumbled searching the corpse. She found her object in his shirt pocket then wiped the blood that had gotten on her hand from the chest wound on his sleeve then began to read. "Thank God the fool put it in Latin-" she said before taking the ten pounds into her bodice then neatly refolding and replacing the memorandum.

She smiled maliciously, and then looked down at the body. "He really has no clue has he?"


"Barret Bonden what on earth?" Bonden laughed at the Doctor's blunt approach. "Why are you not afloat?"

"Why as to that sir Lygnus came fully crewed being saved for some high up captain I reckon. Not a single post untaken God love us."

"How long are you in London?"

"Oh not long, just long enough to see to some – to some family matters."

"Bonden if I could ask your help on finding someone…a midshipman I believe."

"Well sir I would be the last person-"

"Not now though I have a pressing engagement for tonight – could we meet at the coffee shop down the road tomorrow?" he asked distractedly.


Kiara watched Mr. Warren's last letter shrivel and be engulfed in the orange flames as they licked high. With, much to her irritation red blood red roses behind her that Mr. Stafford had sent after hearing that she had taken ill. Which was always a good way of getting out of going anywhere during the Season.

It will not be long now though, she thought, a woman of property and small fortune living alone no matter how happily could only have scandal or a husband. She scoffed when she remembered her last dinner party in town. "There will be no master of this house only a mistress," she growled at the hearth angrily putting on her coat then leaving the house.

She then went through the small door in the garden that led to a secluded street and stubbornly continued against the wind that roughly went against her coat coupled with occasional flashes of lightning.

When she stopped it was outside the high brick wall of the secluded Armstrong garden. The meeting tonight was almost to the point of being public knowledge. Regardless she was certain both contacts would be there.

Though she dully hoped he wouldn't be there – she clutched her sgian dubh hidden in the palm of her hand – if he was she would have to cut his filthy throat. The church bells rang out suddenly breaking the silence – midnight. She stood on even more impatiently arms crossed until she heard the soft sound of his footsteps behind her. "So you have found me out?"


A/N Yay I'm finally getting to post this! I tried all last night and I kept getting a stupid error that said the server was busy try again later. And then my accents wouldn't load. -- but here it is at last and I hope you will forgive the quote I just thought it fit the chapter. And yay you finally get to see what two years high school French does – kinda sad eh?