Beginning, Previous Section, Section XI
Chapter 20
Heeding Arabella and Bette's reminders to pick up his skirt when he walked and not to rub his rouged cheeks with his gloved hand, Seth Shackleford descended the staircase to the first floor. "Don't even consider laughing," he hissed in frustration as he met both John Barrow and Tim Scoggins at the door, but it was a weak effort. The corset was binding him up so tightly that he actually felt light-headed. The walk down the stairs was enough to send him gasping for breath.
To his credit, John did his best to wipe an amused expression off of his face, but Tim Scoggins remained incorrigible. "Well, Mr. Shackleford, I never woulda thought it but ya make a right proper lady!" he snickered in open sarcasm, causing John Barrow to look at him sharply.
"That's enough from you, Tim!" John reprimanded.
"He's right, though," Seth said to his friend almost helplessly. "McConnaugh's going to see right through this," and he gestured to himself, almost shuddering as he remembered the odd apparition that had been reflected in the mirror a few minutes ago. Even with his red hair curled into a fuzzy mass and scrunched under a bonnet with a large brim, his lips painted a brighter color than they ever would have been naturally, and eyes darkly lined -- Seth was not quite a portrait of genteel femininity.
"I recall those earbobs," John said, ignoring his friend's words while looking at the glittering ornaments framing Seth's face.
"You should," Arabella came down the stairs and joined her husband, "You gave them to me two Christmases ago."
"And even with Arabella's generous donations to the cause, I still look like an idiot!" Seth nearly shouted.
"Nonsense!" Arabella chided, coming to face the hapless parson. "You will do just fine." And she readjusted the lace tuck that she and Bette had used to disguise the fact that most of Seth's chest was simply stuffing added in between himself and cotton shift that he wore under the corset. It was all quite scratchy. Seth fought down an urge to itch himself.
"Perhaps this might enhance the vision that is our lovely Miss Sutherland, Arabella," John said, stepping forward and handing her the bloodstone brooch. "Willie and I decided that the prominent display of this object might help to force our man into a quicker confession."
"But can we keep it safe?" Seth asked, as he allowed Arabella to pin it to the front of his dress. He was already a bit nervous about Arabella's earrings.
"We shall have Bruno and Daniel in the street as well as Mr. Scoggins, Willie with McConnaugh, and myself in the room with you," John elaborated. "The man will be quite outnumbered."
"And besides," Tim added, a wicked smile on his face, "As anyone can see, yer a fine, strapping specimen. Any man would be insane to mess with th' likes of you!"
Seth considered advancing upon John's annoying little employee, thinking that they might as well test out such a theory on that man, but recognized that the time was drawing near for them to leave. Seth was quite eager for them all to get underway, knowing that the minutes spent dallying now would mean a longer wait until he was allowed to take off such an uncomfortable outfit. He could hardly believe that women lived almost their entire lives in such costumes! Never again would he think bad thoughts about women who complained of stomach illnesses and 'the vapours.' His insides felt completely rearranged by the wretched corset.
His one solace was that Mary had not seen him in such a state.
John glanced at the clock in the hall and seemed to realize that time was quickly passing. "We should go now," he said to Seth, as he gathered up his own greatcoat as well as a borrowed cloak for Seth. Arabella attempted to assist him into that unfamiliar garment. He remembered helping Mary into such an article just that morning. He recalled placing his hands on her small shoulders and thinking about just how brave she was. He was sure that any other woman would have come down with the hysterics after learning that the man she had chosen to marry was a villain. Instead Mary had chosen to do her best to learn the reasons for his deception and had then visited John specifically so she could relate her information.
Such a woman would not easily be forgotten! And he had been on the brink of telling her exactly how he felt when she had discovered that he had shaved his face more extremely than he ever had before. Her comment had left him utterly disordered, and made him lie badly in an attempt to produce an excuse that would keep her from learning that he was the one that would be deceiving McConnaugh on that evening.
"Seth, are you ready?" John inquired, waiting by the door expectantly.
"Yes, of course," Seth stammered, moving to follow. But even as he complied with his friend's instructions, he wondered if he would ever get a chance to visit with Mary again. Or was she so frightened by his earlier behavior that she would refuse to see him entirely?
That thought kept Seth from remembering that he needed to pick up the corner of his dress before he attempted to walk down stairs. He nearly tripped on the skirt hem as he went down the steps. Fortunately, Barrow was just in front of him and was able to help him right himself. "Methinks you need a bit of assistance, miss," Barrow said, mock gallantly as he offered Seth his arm.
"Thank you, but I'm sure that I can manage," Seth shot back in embarrassment. "And don't even try to hand me into the carriage!"
"I see that the lady prefers to be independent," John remarked to no one in particular as he followed in Seth's train. True to his word, he didn't attempt to assist Seth into the carriage, but made the poor man struggle through the difficult task on his own. The heavy material swirling around his legs made this an almost impossible maneuver. He climbed in clumsily and let out a loud sigh of frustration as he finally came to rest on the front facing seat. John, unencumbered by petticoats, hopped in gracefully as did Tim. Daniel folded up the step and closed the door as John rapped a signal to the coachman. The carriage started to lurch forward just as another figure approached and opened the opposite door. A tall hatted individual leaped in quickly.
"I'm going with you, John," the unknown man addressed himself to Barrow.
But it wasn't a man and she wasn't unknown to them. "Mary!" Seth exclaimed in shock, while the name "Thomas," escaped from John's lips.
She sat down on the rear-facing bench next to Mr. Scoggins, a determined expression playing across her face. "There's absolutely nothing that you can do to stop me from coming along!" she insisted argumentatively, looking from John to Seth to Tim, as if attempting to address all the individuals that might stop her from doing what she had set out to do. "Dr. McConnaugh was my fiancé and I insist that..." She stopped and turned back to Seth, looking more closely at him. "Seth?" she nearly shouted in shock. "Seth, is that you?"
Seth rolled his eyes and tried to assume an air of indifference, but this was nearly impossible to do. The very last thing that he wanted was for her to see him in such an outfit. "Oh, don't look so surprised, Mary," he made a weak attempt at scoffing.
"You're posing as Mairie Sutherland?" she said, incredulous.
"It would seem that Miss Sutherland and I have a great deal in common," he explained loftily, hearing his voice and knowing that the light note in it was a thin cover for the mixture of embarrassment, frustration, and mortification that he felt.
"A great deal in common?" Mary questioned. "You --- have a great deal in common with a woman?"
"Yes," Seth snapped back. "We happen to share the same eye color, hair color, and height, which -- as I have already noted -- was a sad thing for her."
"But you -- play a woman?" Mary couldn't seem to get her mind around such a concept.
"Why should that shock you? You of all people should be able to understand this!" Seth retorted. "You were the one who had to spend six years living in a man's shoes. I -- quite fortunately -- shall only have to spend one evening in such uncomfortable attire." With that, he attempted to adjust his corset somewhat. One of the whalebone stays was jabbing into a rib.
"But why?" Mary continued to press. "Why would you agree to do such a thing?"
"Isn't that obvious?" Seth had just about enough of this. It wasn't as if he were enjoying himself. The insidious corset had quite nearly mangled the organs of his body that were not protected by his ribcage and the powder on his face was beginning to itch.
"No, it's not obvious!" Mary shook her head.
"I'm doing this to protect you!" Seth shouted in return, silencing the entire group instantly. Mary appeared to be too confused to ask any further questions. John was regarding it all with a look of barely concealed frustration, as if he were trying to figure out whether or not their little party could proceed as planned. Tim, however, seemed to be highly amused by all that was occurring before him.
"To protect me?" Mary finally asked, voice made smaller by disbelief.
"Yes, Mary," John chose to jump into the fray. "The only reason why Seth agreed to dress up as Mairie Sutherland and meet with Hugh McConnaugh tonight was because it was the only way to ensure that McConnaugh would be brought to justice and wouldn't be able to harm you any further."
Mary's eyes widened as she listened to John, but they did not stray from Seth. "Really?" she whispered.
"Yes, really," Seth admitted, quieter now.
"For me?" Mary asked again.
"I didn't want to see you hurt," Seth shook his head while gazing at her, the urge to reach over and take her hand remarkably insistent. But he didn't take her hand. He stayed seated on his side of the carriage and stared, nearly drinking in the sight of her. Her large brown eyes seemed fixed on him alone. And now that she had removed her hat, he could see that she had brushed the curls out of her hair in an attempt to appear more masculine. But she hadn't been able to keep the ends from circling up on their own volition. It was something that she would never have allowed as Thomas Townsend -- she would have had her barber crop off the unruly locks just as soon as they showed any attempt to flip into a different direction. Her hair was growing out.
In the dim half-light created by the carriage lanterns, he saw just how thick her hair was and how much it enhanced her beauty. He wondered if it had upset her to have it cut off when she assumed a man's identity six years ago.
John rapped again on the top of the carriage and shouted for his coachman to drive on, seemingly resigned to the fact that Mary was not going to allow herself to be left behind.
Mary relaxed somewhat as she realized that John had given in to her protests. "Thank you," she said, although it was unclear to whom she was offering this simple expression of gratitude.
"But you shall remain in the carriage, with Daniel and Bruno by your side, Mary," John admonished firmly. "I'm not going to allow you to put yourself in danger." He sat back as well. "The Darcys aren't the only people who would have my head if anything happened." He whispered this aside to Seth.
"So that's why you shaved off your sideburns," Mary said to Seth.
"You didn't actually believe what I said about following fashion, did you?" Seth raised an eyebrow skeptically.
Mary looked as if she wanted to smile at that, but wasn't able. There was too much to be done on that night for any lighthearted jokes. The rest of the trip passed by silently enough. Seth alternately worried about Mary and whether or not Daniel and Bruno would be able to provide her with adequate protection and he also worried about whether or not he would be able to pass himself off as Mairie. He attempted not to look at Mary but was unsuccessful. It was almost as if he no longer had any control over his eyes; they roamed towards her whenever they saw fit. Strangely, Mary seemed to turn away quickly whenever his own gaze fell upon her. It was almost as if she were stealing glances towards him as well.
The coachman reined in the horses far too soon by Seth's own reckoning. Even though he was eager to be done with the entire mess and be able to take the dress off, he wasn't quite ready to assume the persona of a dead woman.
Daniel jumped down and opened the door for Barrow. Tim Scoggins jumped out as well and was instructed by Barrow to stand as nonchalantly as possible in an unobservably dark corner of the street, a well-practiced skill for the young thief. He sauntered off to assume his post while John waited for Seth to emerge.
"Well?" John asked, glaring impatiently back into the carriage. "Are you coming? Willie should be here with McConnaugh at any moment!"
It couldn't be delayed any longer. Seth stood up and tried to marshal his courage as well as his skirts. He glanced back over at Mary and saw that she was staring up at him, a barely definable expression of worry playing across her face. She held out her hand as if to make him stay for a moment. "You will be careful, won't you?" she asked.
He took her hand and tried to smile back at her convincingly. "Of course."
He released it back to her and allowed John to hand him out this time, realizing that he needed all the assistance that he could get at this moment.
John instructed the carriage to drive to the end of the street and park in a place where they wouldn't be easily seen by anyone entering Bette's building, but would afford them a good view of the area, just in case Bruno and Daniel were needed. "What should I do?" Seth asked, trying not to sound helpless as the carriage pulled away from the curb.
"What? Have you never seen a street walker before?" John asked incredulously.
"I didn't really study them for their technique," Seth returned, frustrated.
It appeared as if John were attempting not to roll his eyes at that. "I suggest that you simply walk up and down this street, keeping a close watch out for Willie and McConnaugh, and -- above all else -- attempting to appear easy and unconcerned; as if you've done this so often that it has become routine."
"Right," Seth agreed numbly. "Routine." He glanced back over his shoulder in an attempt to find the carriage with Mary. He saw it well secreted in a part of the street not touched by the lamplight. Barrow moved off towards Bette's room, key in hand.
Seth moved a few steps in the opposite direction, eyes darting around, eventually coming to rest upon the inert figure of Tim Scoggins, slouching easily against a wall. In the dimness of the street, he could just make out when that man raised his chin a bit so that he could give Seth a cocky smile.
Seth breathed out a sigh of relief. Tim Scoggins' presence was almost reassuring.
Suddenly, there were footsteps echoing from the far end of the street. Seth whirled around, identifying two figures approaching, alternately leaning upon each other as if each would fall down if they had to walk apart. "Drunk," Seth whispered under his breath, turned away from them, and began to walk slowly down the street.
But one of drunkards appeared to see him as he walked away. "'Ello there!" he shouted over to Seth. "There'sa right fair bird jus' ready ta be plucked," he slurred to his friend who began to guffaw in appreciation. Seth felt his spine stiffen and he thought about turning the corner and walking into another street in an attempt to get away from the unwanted men. But then he would be out of sight if Willie and McConnaugh were to arrive just at that moment. In the end, he just stood there, trying to ignore them.
Being ignored was something that the men would not tolerate, however. "'Ey, there, luv? Didja hear wot I said?" The first one walked over to Seth with more speed than he thought would be possible in such an inebriated state. "Fancy a date?"
"No thank you," Seth whispered tersely, keeping his back turned to the man. "I'm just waiting for a friend."
"Waitin' fer a friend, is you?" the man laughed back, "Well, I'll be yer friend!" And with that, he placed a hand on Seth's elbow and tried to turn him around.
"Let me go!" Seth shouted, trying to shake off the man's hand.
"Och, we gotta feisty one, 'ere!" he called back to his friend approvingly as his grasp became tighter. "Come an 'elp me wit' 'er!"
Seth tried to think quickly about what he should do. He felt like taking both of their heads and banging them together until their ears rang like church bells, but that would completely undermine his cover.
"Let 'er go!" An authoritative voice said from behind.
Seth felt the hands of his oppressor being removed. He turned and saw that Tim Scoggins had come to his aid. "Wot's it to ya?" the man addressed Tim. "Clear off!"
"No, you're the one wot's gonna get cleared off if you don't walk away right now," Tim followed up menacingly and looked at the two men with a slight smile playing across his keen features. This friendly gesture belied the other, more dangerous emotion that could be read in that man's cold, blue eyes. It was Tim Scoggins' most volatile expression.
That was enough for the two men. Realizing that they weren't quite capable of waging a battle with younger and more sober foe, they decided to take Tim's suggestion. "Jus' thought she'd like a bit o' comp'ny, thass all." The first man acquiesced quickly.
"Well, she don't!" Tim placed his face right in the other man's face and spit the last out. With that, the second man chose to pull his friend away. The two made their way down the street and around the corner
"Thanks," Seth whispered to Tim. "I wasn't sure what to do about them."
"Well, at least they gave ya a chance ta test out yer feminine charms," Tim smirked. "Obviously they thought that you were a girl."
"Yes, but they were drunk." Seth reminded dryly.
Just at that moment, the sound of a hack carriage could be heard approaching the street. Seth looked in the direction of the noise, becoming apprehensive instantly. When he looked back over at Tim, he noticed that the man had managed to slip silently away. Seth, remembering what John Barrow had told him to do, attempted to walk easily down the street, but it was a nearly impossible task. He kept looking over his shoulder at the advancing cab. It appeared to be rolling to a stop a short distance behind him.
Seth stopped and watched as Willie scrambled out of the cab. Seth could just make out that McConnaugh was following closely behind. Willie made eye contact with Seth before announcing in a loud voice: "There she is!"
The gasp that Seth uttered appeared to work perfectly well with the persona that he was assuming, but it wasn't an act. It was quite frightening to see McConnaugh begin to run towards him. He stood frozen in his spot for a moment longer than he should, then turned on his heel and began to run towards Bette's, forgetting to pick up his skirts as he did so.
He tripped as he came to the curb and fell face forward.
McConnaugh was next to him in an instant, pulling him up roughly by the elbows as Seth struggled to right himself within the tangle of skirts. He thought that he heard someone scream his name as McConnaugh insisted upon having the jewel. "Mairie, give the brooch to me, Mairie!" He hissed upon Seth's ear. There were more footsteps, as if several people were advancing all at once. Seth's feet found the pavement. Surer of his balance, he was able to push McConnaugh away. Then he turned to face the man.
McConnaugh stopped moving. He recognized that the woman he attacked was not Mairie Sutherland. "But --" he began. "You're not Mairie!"
Seth looked around and saw that Tim Scoggins as well as Daniel and Bruno had joined Willie Barton. The four men had formed an arc behind McConnaugh preventing any escape. McConnaugh, seeming to sense their presence, turned slowly around as well. "What is this?" he asked in irritation as he saw the other three men. "Who is this person?" he addressed Barton. "Who are these men?"
Then he saw that another person joined their group as well. McConnaugh looked behind the rank of men and noticed the person standing just beyond. Seth followed his gaze and realized that Mary had arrived as well.
"Hugh," she whispered a greeting.
"Mary?" McConnaugh was aghast. "What are you doing here?"
But before she was able to attempt an explanation, John Barrow came running up as well, obviously frustrated that events had not gone according to plan. "Were you hurt?" he checked first with Seth, whom he had seen fall.
"No, I don't think so," Seth was barely able to comment before McConnaugh was calling for Barrow to explain the situation. "What is the meaning of this, sir?" he asked belligerently. "You called me here to meet my sister and instead you offer me an impostor with her dress and jewelry --"
"But you told me that you had no sister, Hugh," Mary interrupted, going to stand on the other side of Seth. "And, regardless, is this how you would treat your sister? Throwing her down in the dirt?"
That caught McConnaugh off guard. He stared at Mary in open-mouthed surprise. "Well," he began an attempt to explain. Seth watched as McConnaugh struggled to think of something that might explain away the fact that he had told one person that he had a sister and another person that he didn't.
"The truth is that you never had a sister, isn't it?" Seth stated.
That statement made the physician examine their false Mairie even more closely. It appeared as if a male voice was emanating within a female countenance. He looked from Seth to John and then to Mary. "Your friend?" he asked her. "This is that minister friend of yours? Shackleford?" Seth watched as Mary nodded in silent agreement. Hugh's mouth twisted angrily as he recognized the duplicity of his own fiancée. "At the parish where Mairie's body--"
"Yes," John said. "Although you didn't find that out from myself or Willie, did you?"
"It took me long enough to discover that," Hugh admitted, looking somewhat defeated. With four men standing sentinel behind him and three confronting him with their evidence, it didn't seem as if there was much that he would be able to do to weasel out of the situation. He looked back over at Seth. "I assume that you had the jewel the entire time," he surmised, eyes narrowing, "Did you take it off her body before you laid her in the grave?"
Seth felt himself redden at such a hideous accusation. "Of course he wouldn't!" He heard Mary defend loudly.
"The bloodstone was with a friend of Mairie's the entire time," John explained. "The friend only recently discovered that she had it."
"So it was above ground." McConnaugh shook his head as that realization struck him. "It wasn't buried with Mairie."
"Who was Mairie Sutherland?" Mary asked.
"Mairie?" McConnaugh repeated. "She was a maid at my aunt's house, and a very willing young woman." He laughed harshly at some remembered idea.
"Your aunt was Lady McRae?" John supplied.
"Yes," he nodded. "Although aunt is an odd term to be applied to someone such as she. She never had any feeling for me." Seth felt a small degree of sympathy for the man as he recalled his own boyhood with an aunt whose meager attentions were only given in attempt to influence Seth against his father, but this was quickly chased away by the angry and abrupt manner with which he was answering Mary's question. "My only usefulness, it seems, was to be as her attending physician. The only future she was willing to fashion for me was in medicine, never mind what I wished."
"You never wanted to be a physician?" Mary was startled by that thought.
"I can't understand why anyone would willingly wish to place himself in a position where he has to care for ill and sickly people." McConnaugh shook his head in distaste. Seth watched as Mary struggled with that thought. McConnaugh's opinion of his profession was about as far from Mary's own as could be.
"So you decided to pursue a different fate?" Seth asked.
"I heard about a whaler leaving for Greenland that needed a surgeon," McConnaugh admitted. "It -- if nothing else -- would get me away from having to remain in Lady McRae's household any longer. I decided to ship out with them."
"But not before directing Mairie to --" John asked leadingly. Seth looked over at Barrow and saw that he was attempting to figure out where the brooch and poor Mairie fit into this history.
"The brooch." McConnaugh agreed -- looking at the dull object surrounded by glittering diamonds that was still pinned to the front of Seth's dress. "As you can see, it's a very unique piece and couldn't be fenced easily and certainly not in Edinburgh, where nearly every jeweler knew of it. It would have to be deconstructed before it could be sold. Mairie was to steal the brooch from my aunt's rooms a week after I had left for the ship, thereby assuring that it would be her and not be me who was accused of the theft. I had left her enough money to make her way to London so that she could hide for a year. I was to return to before that year was up."
"But you couldn't do that after your ship became locked in the ice," Mary realized.
"And Mairie didn't have enough money for the second year, did she?" John said. "She couldn't expose herself by attempting to sell the jewel on her own and she didn't have any references with which to find another job..." He drifted off in mid-sentence, as everyone appeared to be able to come to the same conclusion. Mairie Sutherland had prostituted herself because she had no other choice.
"And how were we to know that Aunt Una would not even look for the jewel in the next two years?" McConnaugh said almost regretfully. "She was supposed to have worn it at a ball that was to take place the following week. Poor Lady McRae," he said, voice laden with sarcasm. "I'm sure that her private physician's leaving was quite a blow to her fragile constitution. She was probably left to rely on the apothecary from the down the street."
"Why did you need the brooch?" Mary pressed.
McConnaugh looked over at Mary, eyes coldly distant, almost as if he were looking on an antagonist rather than the woman who had once been his fiancée. "I hardly think that you'd be able to understand it, my dear," he cut meanly. "A woman never wishes to know what's beyond the next turn or over the next rise -- all that she cares about is how tired her feet will get if she walks the extra distance without the opportunity to rest."
Seth thought that McConnaugh was being quite unfair to Mary, but didn't have the opportunity to say so before Mary continued with her own interrogation. "Are you trying to say that all of your efforts to find Mairie Sutherland and the bloodstone is just another way to finance this horrific trip to the arctic? Was Fitzwilliam's investment not enough? And all of those friends that his investment managed to influence?"
"Do you think that I really wish to find myself beholden to a group of investors in London when I could finance it all on my own?" McConnaugh's eyes widened with surprise. "You can't think that I would enjoy returning to England just to give credit to a group men whose only exertion has been the writing of bank drafts!"
"But then why did you wish to --" Mary began, looking confused.
"To what?"
"Why did wish to marry me?" Seth watched as she looked at McConnaugh in disbelief.
"You thought that I wished to marry you in order to secure your brother-in-law's financial backing of the expedition?" McConnaugh's expression betrayed his shock at her assumption. It was quite obvious that this was not the primary reason behind his decision to engage Mary's affections.
"You didn't?" Seth heard Mary's voice weaken.
"No indeed, madam. I never meant to marry you at all."
Seth felt, more than saw, Mary crumple next to him. He longed to put his arm around her; to hold her up, to support her through this, but he wasn't sure if such a thing would be wanted.
"Then, why did you propose to me?" Mary appeared to find some reserve of strength within.
"Oh," McConnaugh looked almost pleased to think that the three had not figured everything out. "Your friend here," he gestured sharply towards Seth, "kept on thwarting my attempts to find her body. The good parson was being too vigilant about his protection of the churchyard, keeping watches all night. I needed a way to learn his movements before he made them."
"And what better way than to befriend his former associate?" Mary surmised dully, realizing that she had been duped completely by McConnaugh's regard for her.
McConnaugh laughed harshly, "I found his former associate to be quite forthcoming with information. Why do you think that my men attempted to resurrect another body on the night of your ball?"
Mary didn't need to respond to that question. The answer was plain to all. She had been utterly used.
McConnaugh went further, though. "Did you really think that I would wish to go through with it, Mary?" He spat out cruelly. "Or should I call you Thomas?" Seth felt Mary turn away from Hugh in a attempt to hide the fact that his taunts were hitting home. "Have you decided to reassume your male identity now that the your attempt to play the lady has proven fruitless? I assure you that you're much better suited to play the role of the tireless Dr. Townsend than you are the genteel Miss Bennet."
Seth looked over at Mary and watched as she bit her lip in an attempt to keep McConnaugh's jibes from provoking an even greater show of feeling to be displayed on her face. Seth saw through all of her attempts, however. He had never seen her so utterly dejected. Seth felt his fingers curl into hard fists.
"You don't even know how to be a woman any more, do you?" McConnaugh asked, a bitter laugh coloring his voice.
It was then that Seth realized that she could take no more of his mean attempts to wound her. Mary deserved better than this. Without any more thought Seth felt his arm shoot out towards McConnaugh. His fist slammed into the side of the man's face with such force that it dropped him immediately to the ground.
Mary watched in astonishment. "You have no idea what you've just passed up, do you?" Seth spat down at the man angrily, his bonnet knocked back on his head and his skirts rustling around him. "There you sit, spurning the affections of a lovely, intelligent lady who has more sense and value than you shall ever be able to calculate!" He leaned over McConnaugh, hand still formed into a tight fist. "Had I been gifted with such a treasure, I would not be throwing it away!"
Hugh, supporting himself on his hands, attempted to creep backwards, but was prevented from doing so by the presence of Bruno and Daniel directly behind him. The two footmen appeared to be waiting for a sign from their employer that they should intervene. But Mary didn't have time to look over at John in order to see what he planned to do next. She was too busy trying to figure out what Seth meant by his words: Intelligent? Lovely? A treasure?
"I'm sure that you would not," Hugh said, still menacing even crouched in his position on the ground. "I've seen how you look at her, how you watch her when you think that no one is looking," he attempted to wound. "How long have you been in love with your friend, Shackleford?" Hugh questioned. "For as long as you've known her? What kind of improper feelings have you been harboring within your --" He was barely able to begin that thought before Seth attempted to strike him again, causing Hugh to squirm out of the way quickly. Mary gasped loudly and screamed Seth's name.
"That's enough!" John said to both men, tugging Seth away from the man and instructing Bruno and Daniel to pull McConnaugh up. "It is high time that we get this man to the authorities, such as they are." Mary watched as Daniel and Bruno put their arms under McConnaugh's shoulders and dragged him into a standing position. She looked back over at John and Seth. John was no longer holding on to his friend, "I think that I should take the brooch with us in order to convince the court that an actual crime has been committed and solved," he said, seeming to anticipate another exasperating attempt to get the local constable to do his job. Seth began to fumble with the clasp on the pin.
"It's just around the corner from here, sir," Willie said to John helpfully, indicating the direction in which Bruno and Daniel were to take their prisoner.
John nodded, taking over the job of removing the brooch. Seth appeared to be all thumbs at the moment. "I shall be back directly," she heard him say to Seth. "And then we can take you home and get you out of that dress."
Mary saw Seth smile weakly at that. "Perhaps we should take Mary home first. I believe that I can stand this corset for a bit longer."
John grinned openly and walked off to join McConnaugh and his large entourage, leaving Mary alone with Seth.
"Seth?" Mary whispered, knowing that she had to wisely use this private moment with him.
He looked up. "Yes?"
"What did Hugh mean?" she began, trying to find a way to frame her question without being too bold, without having to reveal her own feelings in a way that might later be painfully humiliating. It wouldn't do. This was not the time to be meek. "What did Hugh mean when he said that he had caught you looking at me?"
Seth breathed in deeply as if trying to gather up some degree of courage. Mary waited and found it difficult to breathe. Could it be that Seth was actually... but she was too afraid to admit such a thing even to herself. Then she remembered him that afternoon, what he had said to her in John's study and how he had placed her cloak around her shoulders. She remembered the carriage ride just now and how he had declared that his only reason for agreeing to dress up as Mairie had been to protect her. And she remembered just how often she had needed to glance away so that he couldn't tell that she had been looking at him. Had he been looking at her as well?
"I don't know what Hugh meant by his comments, Mary." Seth began. "Who knows what a villain such as he is thinking?"
Mary's heart sank and she felt the tips of her ears heating in embarrassment. She looked away quickly.
"But I know that I love you," he went on.
Mary's eyes darted back to him. "What did you say?" she asked searching his face to some hint of derision. There appeared to be none there to find.
"I know that I love you," he repeated steadily, his voice not made cautious by indecision or quiet with apprehension. This was something on which he sounded quite certain.
Still Mary's general tendency was to disbelieve. "But you," she began, her own voice not at all even. "You were so angry with me for deceiving you. You sent me away. You carried me out of our home. How can you say that you love me now?"
Seth winced painfully. "I deserve that," he admitted, but not seeming to have lost any of his resolve. "I know that I have not been the most understanding of men during the last month, but if you only knew how much I've been paying for my earlier lack of consideration, you might judge differently and decide to forgive me."
Mary didn't trust herself enough to say anything.
"If you only knew how I watched you through your ball, wishing that I could find a way to be near you, envying all those men who were able to claim your hand, knowing that they all had more to recommend them than I did." He shook his head at the memory. "And when John told me about your engagement to McConnaugh on the next day," he went on, "and I saw that I was too late to do anything but offer my congratulations to you."
Mary nodded, remembering how he had behaved on that night. He had looked quite uncomfortable, hadn't he? And she had attributed it all to a different cause.
Seth swallowed painfully and went on. "But those emotions were nothing compared to what I've felt since discovering the truth about McConnaugh," he revealed, "knowing just how much such news was going to hurt you and realizing that there was little that I could do to comfort you."
He had wanted to comfort her? Mary felt a small seed of something that could only be described as joy lodge itself in her heart.
He loved her?
"Seth?" she heard herself question. "Are you sure?"
"I've never been so sure of anything in my life," he stated without apprehension, and Mary's breath caught in her throat. Seth had been certain of quite a few things in the past, hadn't he?
Mary watched as a tentative smile began to play at the edges of his mouth. "Does this mean that I have a reason to hope?" He asked.
Heart too full to form words, Mary could only nod her affirmation.
The expression on Seth's face slowly widened into a grin that crinkled up the corners of his eyes. "Come here, Mary?" he asked, arms widening in wishful expectation.
Mary took a step towards him, which appeared to be enough of an invitation for Seth to take the three steps towards her that would allow him to pull her into an embrace. His arms went around her and she found herself held tightly. "You don't know how long I've wished for this," he whispered into her ear as he placed his head against her own. Mary could only think that it was probably not as long as she had wished for the same outcome, but it was too soon to tell him about just how long ago her own love had developed. They would have that conversation someday, she knew, and it thrilled her to think that there would be moment in their future for such a revelation, that there would be many moments for them to share together.
Then she felt him turn his face towards her own. His open lips gently grazed her forehead as he made his way slowly down to her mouth. Shivering slightly against him, she raised her own lips towards his. He kissed her, and Mary, knowing that there was no one on the deserted side street that might object, allowed it to deepen into something that she had never experienced before. This was not the quick and startling kiss that Hugh McConnaugh had pressed upon her; this was sweeter, more loving, and more complete than anything she could have ever imagined.
Eventually they did have to break apart, but Seth refused to let her out of his grasp. In the dim lamplight of the street, Mary watched as he looked at her fondly and then put out a finger to wipe something off of her cheek. "I fear that I've smeared this lip paint all over the side of your face," he said, smiling somewhat deprecatingly.
Mary reached up to the side of her face as well, realizing that half of the rouge and powder that had been so carefully applied to his face was probably now on her own. She shook her head in amusement. They must make a pretty pair: Seth standing tall in his borrowed dress and frizzled hair and Mary in her waistcoat and pants, hastily tied cravat and all. "Do you think that we'll ever manage to be in the correct clothes at the same time?" She asked him almost teasingly.
He shook his head, chuckling at the thought. "I don't really care about that anymore, do you?"
"No," Mary agreed, laughing out loud this time, successfully drowning out the sound of footsteps approaching. They were still giggling when John Barrow came upon them with Bruno and Daniel and -- while he did clear his throat loudly in order to make them aware of their presence -- he did manage to refrain from saying the word 'finally' as an odd benediction to what had just transpired.
Chapter 21 ~~ Conclusion
Not a week after the resolution of the resurrectionist case, Arabella Barrow found herself being shown into the drawing room of the Darcy house where a very eager Elizabeth Darcy was waiting for her. "I'm so glad to see you!" Elizabeth said, going over to her with both hands outstretched. "Finally, someone rational to talk to!" And with that, she pulled her friend towards the sofa.
"You've been trouble finding rational people of late?" Arabella found herself asking, an amused smile crossing her face.
"You can't imagine the difficulty!" Elizabeth said. "Lady Heydon-Powell called yesterday with her two extremely silly daughters, stayed for over an hour and discussed nothing but the weather! I was nearly driven senseless by her attempt to prognosticate the appearance of an early spring through the careful study of the red ants that had invaded her below-stairs closets."
Arabella clucked sympathetically. "Well, at least you have your sister with you to share in this misery," she said.
"Mary? I can barely get a sensible word out of her these days either!" Elizabeth responded laughingly. "And that's only when I can find her."
"She's taken to disappearing of late?" Arabella asked, raising an eyebrow. "She sounds very much like my current house guest. I don't believe that I've seen him in the last five days."
"You mean Mr. Shackleford." Elizabeth assumed, "You can generally find him here, when he hasn't disappeared with Mary. I finally know what my father meant when he said that Charles used to arrive before breakfast and never left until after supper. And -- as for rationality, he's ten times worse than Mary is!" She threw up her arms. "What is it about love that makes people so --" she searched for a word, "so giddy!"
"Giddy?" Arabella echoed.
"It's very difficult to describe that pair in any other way," Elizabeth nodded. "Ever since Mary came home and announced that Dr. McConnaugh had been arrested for the theft of the 'McRae' bloodstone and that she had decided to accept Mr. Shackleford's proposal, they've barely spent any time apart. They've taken to walking to the park, even on cold days! And when the rain drives them inside, I find them giggling in strange corners of the house, as if life were just one big secret in which only they can share!"
"But surely you remember what it was like to first be in love," Arabella attempted to explain. "I thought that I understood that your housekeeper at Pemberley found you and your husband in rather odd locales during your first few months together."
Elizabeth had sense enough to blush and agree to that. "I do remember getting lost a great deal during those first few months," she admitted. "Pemberley is rather large and my teasing husband would often direct me into closets and cellars when I asked for directions to the more habitated rooms. If I asked for the dining room, he would show me the china pantry. If I tried to find the solarium, I would find myself in a gardener's shed. And our poor gamekeeper! I'll never forget the look on his face when he discovered us in his house." Elizabeth smiled over at her friend warmly. "You are right, Arabella, we ought to allow them to enjoy their time together."
"After all they've been through in the last month, I think that it's quite lovely that they are having this time to be 'giddy' together," Arabella stated.
Elizabeth nodded in agreement to that but appeared to remain unconvinced.
"You do approve of her choice, don't you?" Arabella asked.
"Well, he certainly is a vast improvement from a confessed resurrectionist and thief," Elizabeth began, "And he certainly seems to adore Mary..."
"But?" Arabella questioned.
"But he was wearing a dress on the night that he brought Mary home!" Elizabeth looked somewhat shocked by that. "It's difficult for me to believe that he actually is of a steady character!"
"Well, I understand that Mary was wearing a suit..." Arabella countered.
"And is he thinking about the future at all?" Elizabeth just went further. "After learning that he had lost his position at his London church, Fitzwilliam thought that he would be pleased to accept the Lambton living. It's a very good one and Fitzwilliam was more than willing to make whatever improvements needed to be made to the parsonage."
"And he turned it down?" That surprised Arabella.
"Not exactly," Elizabeth admitted. "He just didn't appear as excited as Fitzwilliam thought that he would be. He seemed almost regretful at the idea of leaving London."
"I think that may very well be the case, Elizabeth," Arabella agreed.
"Fitzwilliam thought so as well and decided to meet with the bishop that is the current rector at Seth's former parish." Elizabeth revealed.
"You mean to say that..." Arabella began, astounded.
"Yes," she nodded in agreement. "He's going to see if he can purchase the living for Seth and establish him as the rector. Although I hardly can understand why Seth seems so attached to it."
Arabella wasn't exactly sure either, but knew that it had broken Seth's heart to be made to leave the parish. Setting him up as rector in that church would be the very thing that would complete Seth's happiness. And perhaps Mary's as well. Arabella remembered Seth relating the astonishing fact that his parishioners didn't seem to care very much when it was discovered that their clinic physician was actually a woman. Perhaps Mary would be able to continue working quietly within the parish. "Well, I'm very glad to hear that," Arabella announced. "It is just the thing to delight them even more!"
"Well, I don't think that they need to be any further delighted at this moment," Elizabeth said wryly. "But if they will find a degree of contentment there, then it must be done."
"And that will keep Mary in London," Arabella said. "Which, I must confess, is exactly what I could have wished for. In fact," she went on, lowering her voice somewhat conspiratorially. "I came over here to enlist Mary's assistance."
"Mary's assistance?" Elizabeth didn't quite understand.
"I believe that I shall be in great need of her skills in eight months or so," Arabella said significantly.
"In eight months?" Elizabeth repeated, coming to a conclusion that made her smile widely. "Arabella, are you with child?" Arabella's happy nod was all the confirmation that she needed. "Oh! I'm so pleased!" Elizabeth congratulated, moving to embrace her friend warmly. "Then, everything is turning out just as it should be!"
Arabella smiled in return and believed that it was. Even Bette had improved and was now well enough to begin a new job as a shopkeeper's assistant over at Smiths. In fact, this was to be her first day behind the counter. Arabella wondered how the girl was faring.
Mr. Tim Scoggins had spent the morning wondering exactly the same thing and while he hadn't planned on visiting Bette -- he didn't wish to appear overeager -- he found himself accidentally walking by the store that afternoon. It seemed rather rude not to walk in since he just happened to be in the neighborhood, so he did. Bette was attending to a few customers at the time, but she did note his presence and managed to send him a greeting that made him decide to stay until she was free. He watched her as he waited. She seemed quite cheerful and remarkably well looking. He had to observe her face closely before he could detect a hint of the cut that she had received under her eye. All of the bruises had faded and the rosy glow had returned to her cheeks. She looked remarkably respectable standing behind the counter with her hair pulled back from her face and wearing a dress that was more sensible than any that he believed she owned. She laughed openly at something that her customer said. This unsettled Tim slightly. He looked over at the man, noting that he seemed almost too pleased with the young lady's attentions. Tim's eyes narrowed and he began to consider ways of sending this man off.
Fortunately, the man chose to be off on his own. Bette began to wrap up the items that he had selected while one of the storekeepers began to write up the bill. The customer gave Bette his direction and walked away, not even noticing the scowl on the face of the young man who held the door open and shut it quickly behind him.
He approached the counter quickly, before any other customers could claim her attention. "'Ow are ya, Bette?" He asked.
Bette grinned widely, "I'm very well, thank you, Mr. Scoggins."
"Th' job suits ya?" Tim looked around, taking in the rows of drawers with neatly shelved items placed above.
"Yes," she admitted, glancing around with a degree of pride showing in her face.
"An' the customers?" He said sourly. "They behaving themselves?"
Bette raised an eyebrow at that and didn't say anything.
"They ain't takin' any liberties, are they? Not presumin' too much on yer good nature?" Tim continued on.
"No," Bette said soberly, "They've all been very proper gent-ul-men thus far."
Something about the way that Bette was attempting to pronounce her words startled Tim. "Bette, why're ya talkin' that way?"
"Well, now that I works in a shop again, I decided that I should learn ta speak like a lady," Bette explained in a quiet whisper, looking over at the shopkeepers standing next to one another, seemingly consulting over an inventory list. "I don't want them ta think badly of me or Mrs. Barrow on account of the way I speak."
"Oooh," Tim scoffed, but modulated his voice to match her intimate tone. "Ya wants ta act like some right proper lady?"
"No," Bette shook her head with some degree of determination. "Not act. I wants to be a right proper lady."
"Oh, I see," Tim said, somewhat surprised to hear the note of hurt and annoyance in his voice. "You'll soon be too good fer th' likes of us! You'll pass us by on th' street without givin' us a second look!" Bette shook her head furiously to that, but Tim just continued on. "Or per'aps you'll be drivin' down th' lane and we'll jus' 'ave ta get out of yer way or risk bein' splashed by th' mud from th' wheels of yer carriage!"
By the look on Bette's face, it appeared that Tim was in danger of going too far, so -- hardly knowing what he was doing -- he tried to soften his last comment. "I'm afraid of losing ya, Bette." He said honestly.
Bette shook her head. "That's not going ta 'appen, Tim."
Tim sighed and relaxed. Had he experienced a wider range of emotions in his life, he might have even termed what he was experiencing as relief, but he had hardly ever done anything that made him feel guilty or even anxious, so the pure joy of being told that everything was going to be all right was something quite new. "Well, then," he grinned widely at her. "I don't s'pose ya need a someone ta escort ya to yer new digs after work t'night."
Bette shook her head. "I'm living upstairs with Mrs. Barrow's kin."
"Oh." That shocked Tim. He hadn't thought that she might be living with other people now. That would make what he had planned somewhat difficult. Difficult... but not impossible. He began to think of ways in which they could continue having their clandestine meetings.
"I know what your thinkin'," Bette stated baldly. "And the answer is no."
"Wot?"
"No." And she smiled with such sweetness that Tim was quite perplexed by her negative response. The confusion must have shown on his face because she went on to explain. "I'm going to be a respectable young lady from now on, Tim."
"Respectable?" Tim spat the word out as if it were some sort of bitter drink.
Bette looked around, making sure that no one was looking in her direction before she leaned over and placed her face very close to Tim's own. "I mean to be courted from now on, Mr. Scoggins."
"You mean ta be courted?" Tim could barely utter that phrase.
"Yes, courted." She said confidently. "And if you aren't the man to do the job, I'll just 'ave to find someone else!"
"Someone else?" Tim thought of all those appreciative customers that would be walking through the door once they had spied her behind the counter. Then he thought of the men standing behind the counter. He glanced over at the shopkeepers and saw that one of them looked surprisingly young and had the air of an unattached man. Tim's eyes narrowed as took the full measure of that man. He didn't look married at all! "Bette," Tim breathed, voice attempting to placate.
"That's Miss Maberley to you, Mr. Scoggins." Bette corrected loftily.
"Miss Maberley?" Tim nearly shouted at the idea that he was no longer allowed to use her given name.
"Elizabeth?" The seemingly unmarried gentleman behind the counter began to walk towards them, a concerned expression playing across his young face. "Is there anything wrong?"
"No," Bette shook her head and smiled back at her employer. "I can manage, thank you, Mr. Smith."
"Oh, he gets ta call ya Elizabeth, and I've been reduced ta callin' ya Miss Maberley!" Tim's indignation was on full display.
"You know 'ow you can rectify the situation, Mr. Scoggins," Bette said, still remarkably cheerful.
"Yeah, well, maybe I don't wanna do that," Tim returned contrarily.
"Oh I think that you might come around," Bette grinned as another customer walked through the door and claimed her attention. She walked down the length of the counter to assist the newcomer, leaving Tim alone at the other end. Tim could only look daggers at the gentleman who was now being shown Smith's selection of fine muslin cravats.
"Well, if it isn't Mr. Scoggins," a voice called from behind. "Are you here to admire the quality of merchandise here at Smiths?"
Tim turned around and saw John Barrow looking at him, eyes light and filled with mirth. He appeared to be only a moment away from laughing heartily at the man he kept on retainer. "Oh, don't you start," he warned.
"What's wrong, Tim?" John's expression didn't become any more serious.
"Well," he explained in hushed tones, not wishing to give the shopkeepers behind the counter the benefit of his conversation, "Miss Maberley over there," he said sarcastically, jerking his thumb in Bette's direction, "Expects to be," he swallowed before he could speak the word, "courted!"
"I see," John lifted his eyebrows.
"Well, wot wouldja do if you were in my place?" Tim said in exasperation.
John looked around the shop. "I once was," he said.
Tim swore quietly, remembering the fact that he once had to play nursemaid to this exact shop, keeping thieves like himself from entering the premises and his eye out for a Miss Arabella Smith to return. He certainly wouldn't find an ally in John Barrow, would he?
"Well, I s'pose I can guess wot you'd do in my shoes," he said petulantly.
"Oh yes," John nodded in agreement. "I'd go buy myself a new pair of gloves."
"Cor!" Tim swore loudly and looked over at Miss Maberley, now smiling prettily at the man who was purchasing more cravats than he could ever possibly wear in a year. Then he noticed that Bette happened to be wearing the bloodstone hat-pin on the lapel of her shirt. It gave him a degree of hope.
Tim realized that he probably would eventually do just as John Barrow suggested.