Daniel swung a well-worn satchel onto the corner table and tossed gentlemen's items into the air. Five snatched them up while trying to read Daniel's guarded expression, but the man kept throwing silk and linens and spitting obscenities under his breath. He'd been the first person to give Five a hand out of the brambles. The one that showed him the poorhouse box where he could get proper clothing, the safest barrel from which to cup unsullied rainwater. He'd even given Five a sandwich. And a job. And a family, of sorts.
Daniel Knapp was the closest thing Five had to someone he called a friend, and even Daniel didn't know the half of it. Didn't know a quarter, or even a sixteenth. Five could calculate the exact fraction of his knowledge Daniel was privy to if he wanted, but it would be a colossal waste of everyone's time.
"What's going on?" Five asked when the rain of fabric let up.
"You're getting dressed."
In those early days, Daniel had taken an interest in Five's welfare and given him small, hand to mouth jobs. As time went on, Five worked his way up to more lucrative gigs, using his talents and knowledge when he could be discreet about it. Five didn't need to do grunt work anymore. He'd moved on to bigger, wealthier endeavors, enough to accumulate a sizable account at Barclays. Did he still owe Daniel for his current situation? Yeah. Yeah, he did. Did he occasionally still do scrap jobs for a handful of coin? Yeah, that too. Because Daniel was someone he had counted on. Someone that could count on him. In spite of the obvious visual age difference, they treated each other as equals.
Most of the time.
Five turned over the circus-colored fabric and discovered it belonged to a leg of orange and brown pin-striped pantaloons.
"I'm not wearing this rich monkey's outfit!"
Daniel heaved a sigh, reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a sack that jingled. He threw it at Five's head, and Five caught the substantial weight of it. He shrugged, removed his shirt, and started pulling on the open-collared muslin.
"What's the play, Danny?"
"I'll fill you in on the way." The man turned and put up a chest wall between Five and the rest of the coffeehouse as Five ungracefully danced out of his braced trousers and pulled up the undignified pantaloons. "Sleep well last night?" his friend asked over his shoulder.
Five sucked in his stomach to button the waist, which had definitely belonged to someone of a smaller stature. "Well enough."
Daniel grunted back. "Sure beats the Towers, don't it?"
The main row of upper rooms at Westgate had been nicknamed the Towers, cramped attic crawl spaces rented by the night, and only good for sleeping if one could ignore the constant noise. They were no more than stacked hovels in a crowded area of upstarts and hopefuls trying to squeeze out a living in the middle of the city. Rent was as low as the quality of the lodgings, which were at least drier and less drafty than sleeping on the streets. Daniel, however, had found a room to let in Green Park, but rarely stayed in it. Naturally, Five jumped at the opportunity to stay in Daniel's room and pay a pittance for it to help cover the rent when Daniel wasn't there.
"Is that where you ended up, at the Towers?" Five asked, struggling with slippery brass closures on a daffodil-kissed waistcoat. Occasionally, Daniel's alternative lodgings didn't go as planned, but he never put Five out on the street because of it. He liked the extra coin Five provided to him.
"Nah. Found me a pillow last night."
"First name, Pillow, last name 'See yourself out before the dawn'?" Five asked.
"Better than the Towers," Daniel said.
"Yeah, I like the quiet better, too," Five agreed.
Daniel chuckled. "That why you're in the coffeehouse at all hours? It ain't quiet here."
His statement was punctuated by another heated argument that had blown up on the other side of the room. Cups swung in the air, accented by profanity and angry exclamations.
Five pulled on a short olive jacket and caught a damp rag that Daniel had grabbed from the dish basin and tossed his way. "Scrub your mug, boy. You need to look impressive."
They exited the Caraway through the back door, leaving the next wave of morning business deals and amateur philosophers behind them. Five wrapped a small white cloth around his throat as they walked to the south, with Daniel not saying a word about where they were going or what they would do once they got there.
Five didn't push. Daniel would speak when it was necessary. They rounded the corner and Five paused at the small handbill posted on the door of a private residence that announced "The Shroud" appearing at their house party that evening. Five had seen the show, or rather the 'sitting' a few times at different residences, curious enough to slip the butler a tip to be let into a stranger's home for the entertainment. Even though he assumed it was all smoke and mirrors and an expert sense for reading the room, he was inexplicably drawn to the spectacle of the mysterious figure in black who hinted at people's futures by holding hands over candlelight. There was something else about the experience that made it feel real to him and kept him wanting to come back for more. The Shroud never seemed to appear in the same place twice, which, he guessed, added to the allure.
"That's something you could save your coin from," Daniel said, leading him through the morning bustle.
"Can't tonight anyway," Five said.
"Yeah, the new job."
Five opened his mouth to say more, but Daniel lengthened his stride and kept pushing ahead. "I said I'd be there. Quit your worries."
Five shut his mouth and pressed through until the side street opened to crossroads with moderate carriage traffic rolling back and forth. He took inventory of the shops ahead, the tea shop, the jeweler, the glove maker, the bookstore. These were unlikely targets for a man like Daniel. Maybe there was something upstairs that needed doing. He scanned the second row of shuttered windows above, making his stomach churn. If his friend gave him a knife, he'd have to give the money back, no matter how close their relationship had become.
Daniel stopped and pulled Five away from the street. "Right. Listen up. Her name is Matilda Burton. She's a cousin. Her prospects are slim. Her dowry's not that…"
"First off," Five interrupted, "you never mentioned you had any family in this town, and second, I'm not gutting anyone."
"That's not… she needs this, Five, a'right? She. Needs. This."
The back of Five's neck prickled. "What exactly does she need?"
Daniel gestured to Five and his frumpish half-dress, then had the audacity to lick his thumb and smooth it over a lock of hair that had fallen into Five's eyes.
Five batted his arm away. "I'm not on the 'marriage market' either, Danny. What's this all about?"
Daniel straightened the hasty mailcoach knot at Five's throat and gave him a once-over inspection.
"Look, people need to see her with someone who can look 'interested', and 'serious', and you got that 'schooled' look and that uppity signed release from Harrow's. She was supposed to meet someone today at…" he checked his pocket watch, "half an hour ago, and he sent an apology begging off." He waggled his fingers at the paltry excuse. "The issue at hand is, she'd already left with her chaperone before his beg-pardons arrived."
Five was momentarily distracted by Daniel's words. It turned out that the man could wax eloquently if given the right amount of indignation, a fact that overshadowed the oddity of his friend knowing so many intricacies about a lady's social engagements.
Daniel read the incredulity all over Five's face and blazed on. "I'm paying you to be nice to someone for once. Can you do that? No, it doesn't matter. Just go in there and sit down. People will see a chap in decent clothes smiling at her, and that's all it'll take. Lord, I hate this Ton business, but Tilda's a sweet thing, and I'll be damned if that upper-crust bastard's double-booked calendar sullies her reputation."
"Are you sure she's a cousin?" he asked. Daniel white-knuckled the bottom of his jacket and gave a curt nod. "You could easily put these trappings on and do it yourself."
"She's a cousin of a friend, a'right? Her family won't appreciate my stepping in, being the burnt end of the lower crust, or whatever they call me. Look, mate, I gave you a boost when you got here. Remember the sandwich?"
Five wagered that he'd have thought better of taking the handout if he'd known that Daniel would hold his kindness over his head for the duration of their acquaintance. Still, their loose partnership had paid off. Daniel was doing a job with him tonight, so he couldn't fault the man for his industriousness.
"All you gotta do is waggle your eyebrows like you do, and say, 'Lady Burton, I presume?' A Lord will be by in a bit. Then you make quick work of it, offer the introduction and get out."
"Which Lord?" Five asked.
"Just look for the bloke with his nose up so high he can't see his shoes. I used the last of my favors to make this happen. Don't muck it up." Daniel checked his watch again, peered up and down the street and then, on a last minute whim, plopped his own wide-brimmed hat onto Five's head. "That's it. Go."
Five found himself pushed into the street, dodging carriages. He made an attempt to pop his collar and center his knot, and then let himself into the tea shop. Daniel's lady-friend-cousin was easy to find, all done up in ribbons and disgrace, head bowed with her chaperone, an older lady, saying useless things like "chin up, girl" and "let's have ourselves a tea since we're here already". Clearly, this woman did not expect any gentleman to come to her charge's aid.
Five put on his best assertive face and walked up to the empty seat. What had Daniel called her?
"Lady Burton, I presume?"
A sudden flurry of standing and curtsying ensued, along with wide-eyed suspicion from the older woman. After the formal greeting where he intentionally neglected to offer his name, Five sat down across from her.
The six inch crown of bows perched on the top of her curls made her look ridiculously young. Five wasn't exactly qualified to comment on the current fashion of the times, but if the lady was attempting to attract a serious man, she'd have to lose the little lamb vibe.
Matilda Burton was pretty in there somewhere, he assumed. She must be quite special for Daniel to have taken such a keen interest in her affairs. There was an intelligent, yet aloof appeal in her bright eyes that looked anywhere but at him. Her dress seemed floral-fashionable and silhouetted a pleasant figure. But the thick bows on the top of her head were so distracting, it was difficult for him to appreciate much else about her. She sipped at her tea and cleared her throat a few times. Her chaperone, an older woman who had adorned her arthritic knuckles with too many rings, was giving Five an uncomfortable amount of attention, almost outwardly leering in his direction from under her bonnet.
Five crossed one ankle over the other under the table, and then switched them around. This was about as uncomfortable a situation as he could have fathomed.
"Lovely morning for tea," he said as amiably as he could muster.
Lady Burton let out a languid sigh. "You are not he, I presume."
"No," Five conceded. "He sends his regrets, as a sensitive matter has interrupted his morning."
Yeah, that sounded genuine. By God, how much of this was he supposed to endure? Five snuck peeks at the window, hoping for a sign of… anything that would excuse him from this farce. When did Daniel say the Lord was due?
"I appreciate the stand-in," Lady Burton said, and then she met his eyes. The firm resolve behind them spoke volumes. "But it will take more than a pleasing face with an amusing sense of fashion to make up for the insult he has dealt."
"That's rather forward of you," Five said before he could help himself. He wasn't sure whether to be impressed or insulted by this woman. Rather than appease her, he went with a verbal parry. "If we're speaking plainly, it would be more pleasing on the whole if you misplaced those upsetting bows."
Her prim countenance dimmed at the jab, and her hand shot up to stuff the offensive ribbons in a pouch on her lap.
That was at least something to improve Five's experience. He admitted to himself that her fine set of curls needed no adornment to be admired. At least she no longer looked like her portrait belonged on a nursery tapestry. This whole 'dealing with people' was not one of Five's talents. That was why he firmly intended to do without them as soon as he had the funds to live a comfortably hermitable existence. Fortunately at that moment, a man definitively dressed as a Lord came in, and Five took his leave of the bowless Lady Burton. As he passed the tall topper hat, he noted that the lordly man was staring at him. Then he saw something else in the man's derisive gaze.
Recognition.
Shit. It was someone he knew. He swallowed a little of his pride and a long silent swear at Daniel. "Good day to you, Lord Garfield," he said.
Lord Garfield looked him up and down with a disdainful sneer. "What are you wearing?"
"Maid's sick, on laundry day of all days. Had to borrow something from the Sunday closet." Five deemed it necessary to point out the full matter before Garfield concocted a less desirable situation in his own head. He gestured to the table with Lady Burton, who was taking in the entire exchange with mild interest. "Didn't want to stand her up, if you get my meaning. Good company is hard to find."
Lord Garfield regarded the young lady who had become more presentable without the bows. "She's with you?"
Five cleared his throat. "After our chat, it seems we are… incompatible. My fault, not hers." He maneuvered the man closer to the back table and turned to the ladies. "Would you fancy an introduction?"
Lady Burton did indeed, surprisingly, and Five obliged. After the requisite pleasantries, he took his leave, practically jogging across the street to the cover of the alley.
He would have to dream up a good excuse for being in Somerset the next time he ran into Lord Garfield, an associate he only dealt with in London. As far as Garfield was aware, there was only one business Five involved himself with, and it had nothing to do with the city of Bath.