Saint Denise was just like any other city, besides the surrounding swamp, and having been born and raised in a city Evelyn was unphased by it, unlike Dutch and Arthur who wore their disgust and discomfort on their faces openly. They trotted along the street quietly, clearly uncomfortable. It almost made Evelyn chuckle at the sight of the two grown men acting like toddlers who didn't want to eat their vegetables.
"We should split up." Dutch said. "We can cover more ground that way. I'll see you two soon, hopefully." He trotted away, delving deeper into the city. Arthur looked at Evelyn.
"Alright. You okay goin' off on your own?" Arthur asked. Evelyn quirked an eyebrow at him.
"I'm a grown woman, Arthur. Not a damsel in distress." She scolded. "Plus, I lived my whole life in a city just like this, so this is nothing new to me." Arthur scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.
"Right, sorry 'bout that. I'll see you later then." He apologized before riding away. Evelyn sighed, feeling guilty for making him feel bad, but she carried on. She nudged Athena in the opposite direction and rode along until coming upon a Saloon. She hitched Athena to the hitching posts and entered, the smell of liquor and cigarettes assaulting her nose as soon as she opened the doors. Music flowed loudly through the saloon and Evelyn quickly felt out of place. Around her were women in puffy gowns and ridiculously feathered hats, and men in expensive tailored suits. Many of the women eyed her with disgust as she made her way to the bar, she assumed because it was still improper for women to wear anything but dresses and skirts. She shook her head, remembering when she had felt the same way.
She leaned up against the bar and called for a drink. A neatly dressed man answered her summons, sliding over a shot of whiskey. As she drank, she could feel the bartender eyeing her curiously.
"Not from around here, are you?" He asked. She set the glass down and looked at him evenly. He was an attractive middle-aged man, a neat mustache and glistening black hair with hazel eyes. He looked at her kindly, though couldn't hide his curiosity.
"No, not really. I live on a farm, a little ways away from here. I'm here on business." She lied easily. The bartender nodded, cleaning out a glass with a rag tied to his apron.
"Well, that explains it. Any way I can help you?" He offered, making Evelyn eye him suspiciously.
"Why so interested?" He shrugged at her question and set the glass down and leaned forward, putting his weight on the bar.
"A beautiful woman walks into my bar and seems out of place. Course I'd be curious." He said with a wink. Evelyn blushed, stammering.
"I'm flattered, Mr.?" She trailed off.
"Just call me William."
"Right. William. I guess you might be able to help me. I'm looking for Angelo Bronte. Do you know of him?" She asked. William whistled low and wiped down the bar.
"I know of him, alright. I wouldn't feel right sending a pretty woman his way, though. Man's dangerous." William said seriously, looking Evelyn straight in the eyes. Evelyn grasped his hand, her eyes pleading.
"Please, William, I have to find him. He- He has something very precious to me." She begged. William's expression softened and he took her hand into his, sighing.
"Look, I can tell this is important to you. I'll tell you, but you have to promise to be careful, okay?" He requested, to which Evelyn nodded furiously.
"I don't know his exact location, but he's a big shot around here. I'm betting you he lives up there with the rich folk in town, on Flavian Street. He'll likely know you're coming for him, he has eyes and ears everywhere in this city." He told her. Evelyn sighed in relief, raising to lift herself up and planted a kiss on the helpful man's cheek and stood up, looking at him from over her shoulder.
"Thank you so much, William. I promise I'll repay you!" She called out as she left. William held his hand to kiss cheek and watched her leave. He smiled, hoping she stayed safe.
By chance she happened to run into Dutch and Arthur sitting on a park bench, the latter looking out of breath and angry. She hurried up to them, stopping to stand in front of them. Arthur was muttering angrily, holding his satchel in his hands, the strap seemingly gone. She gave him a curious glance but ignored it.
"Mrs. Kings, how did you get on?" Dutch greeted.
"Surprisingly well. I think Bronte is staying somewhere near a place called Flavian Street." She said, nerves on edge. She was so close to Annabell.
"That's near the big park in the center of the city. Where'd you get the information from?" Arthur asked her. She blushed, avoiding their gazes.
"A friendly bartender, named William. He seems like a reliable source." She answered. Dutch raised an eyebrow at her avoidance, and looked at Arthur who seemed a little perturbed. What was up with them? He wondered. Dutch stood up and offered his seat to Evelyn.
"I'll go get John, I'll meet you two there when we get back." Dutch said. Arthur and Evelyn nodded and Dutch took his leave. Evelyn looked at Arthur.
"How'd your endeavor go?" She asked. He scoffed and gestured to his satchel.
"Wasn't in this godforsaken city but ten minutes and I got robbed." He grumbled. Evelyn laughed.
"That sounds about right. I'm happy you got it back, though. Hopefully we can fix the straps." She offered. Arthur shrugged, and stood up. He helped Evelyn onto her horse and he mounted his.
"So, I been wonderin'." Arthur began to say. "You never told me 'bout your life... Well, before all this. Before you found us. What was it like?" He inquired as they leisurely rode down the street. Evelyn contemplated for a moment.
"Well, I was born and raised in a city identical to this. As a child we were very privileged, on account to my father's success as a pastor and having his own church. I never wanted for anything. I had a happy beginning, though my father was more absent than not, my mother was a wonderful woman. She was heartbroken when she first learned of my betrothal, but as time went on and the wedding was upon us she seemed more accepting, I think Glenn had worked his charm on her and made her feel happy for me." Evelyn said, bitterly as they continued riding on. "I wasn't ever too close with my father. Most of my life he'd spent gambling away. When I moved into my husband's home I only ever saw him maybe a few times afterwards, unlike my mother who I had visits with nearly every week. When I got married I was moved into Glenn's massive Estate. Gardens, hedge bushes, ponds, servants, as far as the eye could see. It put the Grays' and Braithwaite's to shame. I never had to lift a finger, I always had a waiting girl on hand and foot. Though Glenn was an evil, abusive man, he always made sure I had plenty of allowance, so I spent it freely." She shrugged. Though her life had been full of luxury and privilege she didn't miss it. "I never had any real friends, not that I can remember. Sure, I had social gatherings with other privileged women, it was never genuine. More of a battle of wits and who could get the most gossip to spread about one another. I know I had it easier than most women, but I couldn't take it anymore. I don't think I would've survived much longer, had I stayed." She said sorrowfully.
Arthur listened intently to Evelyn talk, nodding and humming to let her know he was still listening. He had a hard time imagining Evelyn as a pampered noble woman, instead preferring to see her as the kind, compassionate, and stubborn hard worker he'd known her as. Though, as he observed how comfortably she traversed the city and how desensitized she was to the sights and sound around her, he could see how she was.
"Sounds like you've had an interesting life, Mrs. Kings." He said. She chuckled.
"I suppose. I'd ask you about yours, but Dutch and Hosea filled me in while you were on bedrest." She teased. He groaned playfully.
"I bet they didn't leave out the embarrassin' parts, did they?" She chuckled.
"Nope. 'Fraid not, sir." He smiled, happy to see that she had somewhat gone back to the playful, happy Evelyn he knew. She'd been cold and quite since Jack and Annabell went missing.
"Arthur!" Someone yelled as they approached a large fenced in estate. They looked up to see John and Dutch riding towards them. "You two ready?" He asked.
Evelyn nodded. "Of course." She answered, Arthur nodding alongside her. The four of the dismounted, then approached the gate where a servant stood at the ready with a pistol in his hands.
"John, Evelyn, I need you to keep your cool. If we draw our guns in there I've no doubt the children will get caught in the gross fire." Dutch ordered. The two parents agrred stiffly. They stood back as Dutch dealt with the servant, and soon a small party of well-dressed servants came to escort them into the manor. They were lead into an expensively furnished living room, clad in bright rich reds and golds. On a plush seat sat a man dressed head to toe in expensive red and yellow silks. He spoke to one of the servants in Italian, scrutinizing them closely when he was answered. Dutch stepped forward.
"We're here about the children." He said slowly, not sure if the man spoke English. Bronte looked at them shrewdly, his mouth set in a frown. Dutch tried again. "Why did you take their children?" He said, more demanding. Bronte's brow furrowed.
"You come into my home, uninvited, stinking of horse shit and dressed like..." He gestured unhappily at Dutch's apparel. "This. And you make demands of me?" He said sternly. Arthur and John looked at eacother hesitently, poised and ready to draw their guns. Evelyn simply stared forward with a hard expression, knowing that people like him loved making a show.
"Listen, whatever problem you have with us, I can assure you is a huge misunderstanding. My friends here just want their children back." Dutch said.
"You claim innocence to messing with the liquor business?" Bronte asked.
"Whatever we were not innocent of we are surely ignorant of, Mr. Bronte." Dutch assured. Bronte stayed silent for a minute, dramatically sizing them up. In a split second, he broke out into laughter and smiled.
"Sit, please. Bring these fine people drinks!" He ordered. They all sat, slightly taken off guard, and accepted the drinks.
Bronte gestured to the group. "Please, introduce yourselves. I love you already." He said kindly. Dutch introduced them.
"I'm Dutch Van Der Linde, this is Arthur Morgan, and these are the parents who so dearly miss their children," Dutch said, pointing to Evelyn and John with a slight flourish. "Poor John Marston and Mrs. Evelyn Kings." He finished. Bronte nodded, greeting them all individually and sipping on his drink.
"A pleasure to meet you all." He said. "I am Angelo Bronte. Now tell me, are you two both the parents of the children?" He inquired, gesturing between John and Evelyn. John stuttered and Evelyn taped into her old habits. She sat straight, prim and proper.
"No, Mr. Bronte. The girl is my daughter, and the boy is my friends son. This is his father." She said, gesturing to John. Bronte nodded, interested.
"So... May we have them back?" Dutch asked. Bronte took a slow sip of his drink, nodding.
"Of course, friends." He accepted. Everyone's shoulders slumped in relief. "But," He started, and everyone tensed back up. "You would not wish for me to come out of this empty handed, no?" He asked.
"Please, Mr. Bronte. I'll pay you whatever you want, we just want the children back." Evelyn plead, her hands clasped together. Bronte assessed her closely, dragging his eyes across her body slowly.
"No, no dear, that will not be necessary." He assured her. "I just wish to ask your friends a favor. A job, perhaps." He leaned forward. "Some petty thieves have been robbing our dead, with no tribute to the living, yes? My men scare them away instantly, but you, that would be no problem, you see?"
Dutch nodded, gesturing for John and Arthur to stand. "Of course, we would be happy to help in any way." Bronte waved him off.
"Mr. Van Der Linde, Mrs. Kings, please, stay and keep me company. Your men seem plenty capable, no?" Evelyn and Dutch stayed seated. John and Arthur left to do his bidding, but not before they made sure Dutch and Evelyn would be safe.
The night was growing dark, and Evelyn was growing tired, having had to be on high alert for the past two hours in Bronte's presence. She couldn't figure the man out, his way of speaking came off as back-handed for the most part but he was polite and an attentive host. She was grateful that most of his attention so far was focused on Dutch, so she could zone out of most of the conversations.
"Tell me, Mrs. Kings. Are you married?" Bronte asked. Well, so much for going unnoticed.
"I am widowed, Mr. Bronte." She answered carefully. The Italian nodded, his face apologetic.
"I am sorry to hear that, Miss. Was he a good husband?" Evelyn didn't know how to answer.
"He... He had a love for alcohol, Mr. Bronte." She answered simply hoping it would appease him. His eyes lit with understanding.
"I see. My father was the same, when he drank he would get violent. My poor, dear mother. I suppose his death was a mercy to you, no?" He inquired. Evelyn grew increasingly uncomfortable.
"I... Suppose so, Mr. Bronte." Bronte chuckled, waving his hand dismissively.
"Oh, no need to be so guarded, Mrs. Kings. We are both adults, there is no need to hide behind vague words." He sighed as he poured her another drink, which she accepted politely. "You're daughter, I see a lot of her in you, no? Same eyes, same freckles. She is a lucky girl that is certain." She was slightly put off by the compliment, but the mention of Annabell made her perk up.
"You are too kind. Please tell me, is she okay? How is Jack?" She asked her voice shaking. Bronte nodded, crossing his legs.
"Oh they are fine, dear. Annabell, she is a delightful little girl and all she could talk about was you. Jack is just as much of a joy, and I can assure you I kept them well fed and happy during their time with me. I noticed Annabell is well educated, who was her mentor?" Evelyn was relieved to hear about them, tears had begun pooling in her eyes. She gathered her composure.
"I am, Mr. Bronte." He hummed, impressed.
"It is always intriguing to meet a woman of education, and even more so such a beautiful one such as yourself, Mrs. Kings." He complimented. Evelyn looked away to hide her discomfort.
"You are too kind, sir." She said meekly. With that Bronte returned his attention back to Dutch, who had noticed her discomfort and had asked Bronte a question about a large portrait hanging on the wall. She didn't bother listening. Sitting here, with Annabell just feet away and not being able to see her, or to hold her, was killing her.
She jumped in her seat as the door slammed shut, and in walked Arthur and John. Arthur handed Bronte a coin purse. Bronte clapped, delighted at their return.
"Oh, I must thank you two. You did me a great service," He said. He got up and signaled to a servant who left into one of the other rooms. Minutes later Annabell and Jack emerged, clad in fine clothes. Evelyn gasped, falling to her knees and opening her arms.
"Mama!" Annabell cried, rushing into her mother's arms. Evelyn sobbed, burying her nose in her daughter's hair and hugged her tightly, afraid to let go. John was just as elated to see Jack, though he just swooped the boy up into his arms in a bodying hug. Bronte smiled at the pictures.
"They were a delight to have, you two have some fine children." "Bronte said, walking up to stand near Dutch. He escorted them out of the building, walking into the crisp night air. As the children were situated into their respective parents' horses, Evelyn and John returned to Dutch and Arthur as they said their goodbye's.
Before they left Bronte handed Dutch a card. "I would love to see you fine people at the Mayor's garden party. Please, accept this as my formal invitation." he leant to capture Evelyns hand in his, placing a delicate kiss on the back of it, his eyes not leaving her. "I do so hope to see your beauty there, Mrs. Evelyn." He said in a low voice. Evelyn cleared her throat, putting on a polite smile.
"Of course, Mr. Bronte. We would be honored." She said, knowing Dutch was already scheming a plot for the party. With one last goodbye the group left, riding quickly back to camp. They listened as the children talked about how their stay was, John and Evelyn both relieved that they were safe and seemed to have fun, but also unsettled that the two kids seemed a little too happy.
"Mama, I missed you a lot. Why didn't you stay too?" Annabell asked innocently. Evelyn chuckled, kissing the top of her daughters head for the hundredth time that night.
"If I would've known you were leaving, I would've gone with you, sweetie. Mama missed you so much." She said. Annabell giggled, turning to look at Arthur who rode beside them.
"I missed you too, Mister Morgan." Annabell called to the man, who chuckled fondly.
"Everyone missed you, little lady, and Jack too." He said. Dutch was quiet, likely pondering over the invite they'd received from Bronte.
Bronte. The man unsettled Arthur, and the way he'd lingered around Evelyn made him uncomfortable, too. Though he wasn't sure why. Or maybe he was, and he just didn't want to admit it. He shook his head.
"They're back! And I see Jack and Annabell with 'em!" Called out Bill, announcing the small groups entrance to the rest of the gang.
"Abigail! Abigail! We got your boy!" Dutch yelled out joyously. said woman ran towards them, and just as John had set the boy on the ground the woman picked him up, hugging him as tightly as she should. She sobbed happily.
"My boy! You brought back my boy!" She cried. "Thank you, thank you so much. Annabell! I'm so happy to see you, too!" She called out to the young girl, opening her arms to her. Evelyn happily set the girl down, and she ran to Abigail. Soon everyone crowded around them, and Evelyn was surprised to notice that everyone was just as happy and relieved to see Annabell as they were to see Jack. The women 'ooh'd and 'awe'd over her clothes and the ribbons adorning her hair. Evelyn left John, Dutch, Arthur, and Hosea to talk amongst themselves and joined the crowd settling around the campfire. Javier began strumming on a guitar and broke out into song.
Her heart warmed as she saw everyone welcoming the kids back, even taking the time to pat Evelyn on the back, or the women giving her quick hugs. She felt like she was amongst her family, and her eyes watered, this time from happiness. Annabell yawned, returning to her mother from socializing with the other gang members and crawling into her lap. "I'm sleepy, mama." She said. Evelyn picked her up and looked around for her tent.
Miss Grimshaw saw her look and came over to her. "You're settled up in the house, dear." She said and took Evelyn's arm to leads her to her room. She thanked the woman profusely and looked around. She was in a rather lovely room, complete with a closet, nightstand, mirror and, delightfully, a bed. She lit the lamp on the nightstand, and laid Annabell down, smiling to see the girl already asleep. She stealth fully took out the ribbons in her hair, and removed her shoes, setting the shoes on the floor and stowing away the ribbons in the drawer. Evelyn herself changed into a plain forest green dress. The pants were beginning to make her uncomfortable, and she figured she'd go back downstairs after tucking Annabell in, allowing herself to relax now that she knew her daughter was safe. She took her hair out of her braid, shaking it loose and finally made her way back outside.
The party was still going strong, with music and cheerful dancing. Charles and Sadie sat near the fire, listening to Javier, and Kieran and Marybeth along with Dutch and Molly, were dancing happily away. She smiled, John and Abigail must have taken Jack to bed early as well. She had high hopes that John was finally embracing his role as a father, seeing as how hard he'd fought to bring back his son safely. She made her way to sit with Sadie, but was stopped by a tap on her shoulder. Arthur stood behind her, his arm extended towards her.
"May I have this dance?" He asked, slightly awkward. Evelyn laughed, nodding and accepting his hand. He lead her a bit away from the group, a hand around her waist and one grasping her hand. Her other arm circled lightly around his neck. They danced slowly in silence, the moon illuminating Evelyn gracefully as her long black hair swayed behind her, in sync with her flowing dress. They looked deeply into each other's eyes, ignorant to the world around them.
She didn't know what compelled her, what made her act impulsively, but as she looked into his blue-green eyes, his scarred chin and finally his lips that were quirked into a soft smile, she couldn't help herself.
With her heart pounding in her ears, she rose onto her tip-toes, capturing his mouth in a passionate kiss, her fingers tangled in his hair. She doubted herself as he seemed to freeze, before he returned the favour with a kiss of his own, tugging her waist closer to him and encircling her with his arms. They stayed like that, for what felt simultaneously like forever but also like a split second, before they separated, eyes wide and hesitant. Evelyn clasped her hand to her chest, trying to still her beating heart.
"I... I should go. I-Thank you, Arthur, so much for all of your help." Evelyn said, gathering her skirt in her hands and quickly retreating into the house, leaving Arthur star struck outside. Dutch and Hosea looked at the man with smiles on their faces.
Arthur looked at the empty space she once occupied for a long while, a dumb smile on his face.
Meanwhile Evelyn lay in bed, overjoyed but also terrified. Why did she do that? Why did she want to do that? Surely they'd just forget about it in the morning and chalk it up as a mistake, or maybe she could blame it on the euphoria of having Annabell and Jack back, or maybe all of the alcohol Bronte had insisted she drink.
Why did the thought of forgetting about the kiss unsettle her so much?
