The Second Floor of O'Malley's Bar, At That Moment
Lady Hilary stumbled when she was shoved into the small, poorly-lit room. It was barely big enough to contain a bed, a table, and some chairs. There was nothing homey about it at all, and she was relatively certain it was probably infested with one or more breeds of noxious animal life.
Another form of noxious animal life followed her into the room. “You!” Hilary hissed as Captain Pavla DeVile strode in. “You hussy of a sea witch! How dare you bring me to this...this filthy den of iniquity! I am Lady Hilary Booth, one of the London Booths, and I demand that you return me to my home this very minute, before I have you arrested and sent to the nearest scaffolding to dangle by that skinny neck of yours!”
“That isn't possible. My men are guarding the door. If you try to escape...well, they aren't as respectful of aristocratic actresses as I am.”
“I don't see how you're being respectful. You're a lowly pirate. I am the wife of a...”
“No, you are not. You obviously do not know who you are.” She handed her a letter. “This will tell you. You are the ex-Lady Singer.”
Hilary read the letter over. “Life is too short not to know who I really am. I only pray we can remain caring, loving friends...” It took all her willpower not to cry. She finally turned a smirk to Pavla. “I can see your influence on him already. How long did it take you to get into his heart...and other important places, I'm sure?”
“Oh, I met Jeff at a party for several Congressmen at the home of the Massachusetts governor. He was such a sweet man. He swept me off my feet.”
“He should have swept you into the Atlantic Ocean.” She gave her the glare that sent every servant in the Monongahela Inn trembling. “Tell me, Pablum, if Jeff is still in Boston, what are you doing here?”
“It's Pavla,” Captain DeVile snapped. She was not a woman who was easily cowed. “I'm pursuing a...sideline job, you might say. I am an actress.”
“An actress.” She laughed. “And Jeff is an actor with connections to quite a few government officials and major producers. Very convenient for you.” She stood face-to-face with the exotic woman. “And what, pray tell, do you intend for me?”
“We are holding you for ransom. Your friends are to bring a certain...party...who is visiting the village today to me by midnight. If they refuse the request, you will die.”
“You wouldn't kill me! That would kill your hold over Jeffrey. Even if he did marry another woman, he'd never approve of this!”
“Don't be too sure.” Pavla DeVile turned on her three-inch-heels and strode out. Hilary could hear the door lock behind her. She managed to stand for a few minutes in shock before she finally crumpled to the bed, tears pouring down her cheeks.
The Docks at the Monongahela River, That Night
Elizabeth had never felt so nervous. Every noise made her jump. The docks of Pittsburgh Village were rough territory during the day, never mind at night! She was glad Scott and C.J were there, too. The note had only said that Captain Pavla DeVile had Lady Hilary at O'Malley's Bar and would be willing to exchange her for an audience with the head of the same theater troupe Cecilia had left with. Evidently, she had a yen to be on the stage.
“This is crazy!” Elizabeth muttered as they entered the dilapidated building. “Why couldn't we have gotten her to bring Lady Hilary to the Inn?”
“We don't need to get the others involved in this.” Scott took her hand. Elizabeth was so scared, she didn't bother to scold him for being forward.
“Did you tell him when to meet you?” C.J asked. Scott just nodded as they entered the bar.
The bar was typical of the Pittsburgh waterfront. The scarred wooden counter ran most of the length of the one room. A few battered tables and chairs made up the rest of the furnishings. Elizabeth was just grateful that it was empty at this hour. A woman in a tight red and blue suit with a matching blue tri-corn hat sat at one table. Scott addressed her first. “Captain DeVile?”
She nodded. “Yes, I'm she.” Her grin turned predatory. “Although you should address me by my real last name, Mrs. Singer.”
Elizabeth stepped to Scott's side. “You said that in your note. How did it happen? I thought...”
“You thought wrong.” She pulled out several papers. “You'll see it is all very above-board. Far more so than your so-called Lady and Lord's marriage in the Mexican colonies by the local butcher.”
C.J lead another figure into the room. “Here he is, miss. The head of the troupe himself.” Pavla's smirk became even more like a cat that ate the canary. It was a very small, old, and timid-looking man with a thin mustache. What she didn't see was Elizabeth and Scott exchange small, knowing smiles of their own.
“We kept our end of the deal, Captain.” Elizabeth's voice sounded more steady than she felt. “Now you keep yours. Where is Lady Hilary Booth?”
“Oh, she's around here somewhere. I'll bring her out after I talk to Mr. Zanish here.”
Elizabeth had to grit out a smile. “All right.” She nodded. “Come on, Scott. Let's let them...talk.”
Scott nodded. He, C.J, and Elizabeth made their way out. Scott turned to Elizabeth. “You got your tools, Liz?”
Elizabeth nodded. “I'll write down everything Pavla says.” She frowned. “Are you sure you can get Lady Hilary? I know they're holding her somewhere.”
Scott's big grin nearly split his face. “My friends are already on their way upstairs. They're probably getting her now. Piece of cake!” He tapped C.J's shoulder. “Come on, kid. Let's go.”
Elizabeth gulped and leaned against the window. Thank goodness the walls here were thin as the paper she was writing on. She heard Pavla talk about how badly she wanted to give up larceny for acting...and how being married to Lord Jeffrey and his title meant she could now pursue whatever career she wanted to. She never once mentioned having married Jeff because she really cared about him. She's only after his power and status, Elizabeth thought angrily. She doesn't love him! She's probably never loved anybody but herself.
Pavla had just started telling Mr. Zanish that she'd join his acting troupe when Elizabeth felt a hand on her shoulder. “I think we have enough to incriminate Pablo, don't you?”
“Lady Hilary!” Elizabeth shot to her feet. “You're all right!”
“I am now, thanks to my friends.” Scott and C.J flanked her on either side, followed by several figures in black. “I was locked in a room upstairs. I heard everything Pablum said.”
“So did I.” Elizabeth held up the paper. “And I have it all down here.”
Pavla's eyes widened as Hilary stepped into the room, followed by the others. Scott and C.J drew swords. “What is this? How...”
Scott put a hand on Hilary's shoulder. “It was a collaborative effort.”
Elizabeth's grin was as nasty as she could manage. “Mr. Foley usually takes better notes than me, but...he was busy.”
Pavla's face became even more aghast as “Mr. Zanish” took off his wig and false mustache and eyebrows, revealing the little music teacher. She jumped to her feet. “This is blackmail.”
“Au contraire, petit German libertine.” She held out the notes Elizabeth had taken. “The only thing I want is to know that, as you're rolling along the Monongahela and rolling over every ship from here to Boston, that you're worrying about when I might be sending these notes to MY Jeff...or better yet, when I'll show them to him after he gets back.” She narrowed her eyes. “Now, get OUT of my town, before I have you arrested for kidnapping and letting those beasts of yours disturb the peace.”
Captain DeVile could only stride angrily out of the bar and down to her ship. The others watched her. “I don't think we've seen the last of her,” Elizabeth fretted.
“She's gone now. That's all I care about.” Hilary took the papers from Elizabeth. “I'll keep this, dear. It'll be good leverage for when Jeff comes back.” She made a face. “I only wish they were heavier. I'd like to break them over his thick head.”
Scott frowned. “There's something fishy about all of this, Your Ladyship. This doesn't sound like the Jeff I know.” Mr. Foley nodded in agreement.
Elizabeth sighed. “We won't find out anything until he gets back.”
The Basement of the Monongahela Inn, An Hour Later
“I don't like this.” Scott paced up and down the length of the hard rock floor. “Captain Pavla DeVile is one of the most notorious pirates on the East Coast. I doubt she married Jeff because she suddenly fell in love with him. Pavla deals in information. She keeps herself out of hot water with the authorities by trading knowledge about Patriot activities for illegal goods to sell on the black market.”
Maple made a face. “I have heard that is not all she trades. She does not mind trading...favors...for knowledge, either.”
C.J nodded. “If Pavla's after Jeff, it's because he knows something about the Patriots. But what?”
“If we could figure that out, we'd be going after her before she jumps town.”
Maple finally grabbed Scott's arm. “Scotty, enough with the around and around like a top. You make me dizzy. Not to mention, someone may hear you.”
“I know you're worried,” C.J added. “I don't blame you. Pruitt's increased guard patrols on the roads and in Pittsburgh Village and upped the price on the Crimson Blade's head to fifteen thousand dollars. We're going to have to be a lot more careful. We were lucky no one was hurt or caught today.”
“And we've really been short-handed with Jeff gone.” Scott sighed. “Even if I'm about ready to help Hilary throttle him over this whole Pavla mess.”
“I'm glad to hear that,” said a familiar voice from the top of the stairs. “It'll be nice to have some help with throttling him when he gets back. He does squirm so.” Lady Hilary Booth and Mackie Bloom stood together. Hilary was still in the clothes she'd worn that day; Mackie wore his nightshirt and cap.
Scott groaned. “This place is the worst-kept secret in Pittsburgh! How did you find us?”
“Jeff told me the night of the ball.” Hilary gathered her skirts and lead Mackie into the dusty room. “At least, he told me most of it. Hearing about the Crimson Blade's exploits in the market today gave away the rest. I got Mackie out of bed and followed you here when we came home.” She scowled at the dust. “Couldn't you have found somewhere a little cleaner to meet? I doubt anyone's dusted down here since prehistoric times.”
Mackie chuckled. “Yeah, I figured it out, too. Maple, you're a nice girl, but you're not good at hiding anything. You, Jeff, and Scott have been disappearing at weird times for months. There had to be a good reason for it. I doubt you were just going out for ale at the Buttery Tavern.”
Hilary pulled out a lacy handkerchief, dusted off a crate, and finally sat down. “Scott, in exchange for not telling the world your identities, we only ask one thing.”
Scott looked impassive. “What, Your Ladyship?”
Mackie grinned. “We want in on this. You saw me fight today. I may not be a conniving con-artist or a peer of the realm, but I'm good with my fists, and I've been in this village a while. I know people. And I listen to guests who've had a little too much ale.”
Hilary smoothed out a wrinkle on her overskirt. “I refuse to have anything to do with the actual stealing. I won't have that blot on the Booth family name.” She tugged at her ruffled sleeves. “However, I too hear things...and I hear things from a far higher branch of society than Mackie or the rest of you. I wouldn't have any problems relating one or two bits of information that could be of use to you. And if things do get too hot,” she added with a smirk, “I know how to defend myself. Besides, I never did thank the Crimson Blade's men for rescuing me tonight.”
Scott nodded. “Ok, you're both in. We're going to need all the help we can get. Pruitt's been adding more guards to the roads. He's smart, all right. We'll just have to be smarter.” His big, plump-cheeked grin spread across his face. “Very exciting!”
The Adventures of the Crimson Blade
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