A Game of Chess, Ch. 12 (PG-13)
Posted: Wed Sep 01, 2010 3:22 am
AN: Many apologies for the long wait on this one...too many irons in the fire, I guess...
Disclaimer: I don't own Josef. Darn.
A Game of Chess
Chapter 12
Pausing in the hallway outside the parlor, Mrs. Davidson shifted the heavy tray in her hands, reflecting again that Mr. Fitz was spoiling these children rotten. In any other household, despite extra duties, Tessa would be spending her days sweeping and polishing, and Ned would be in the stable, helping Mr. Fox. Instead, they were about be interrupted in their leisure to partake of a hearty tea.
Not that she’d presume to argue with Mr. Fitz, but he’d evidently far different ideas than most of his kind. She knew he expected devotion and discretion, and she had no doubt but that he’d punish infractions ruthlessly enough, but he seemed willing to inspire loyalty, too.
She was curious to listen to the two swallows closeted alone in the parlor.
“You think you can recognize all your letters now?” Tessa asked.
“I’ve been practicing.” Ned’s voice was confident.
“We’ll see.” There was a pause, a ruffle of pages. “All right, we’re going to play a game. I’m going to point to a letter, and you look around the room and find something that starts with that sound. Hmm, okay, what’s this letter?”
“A.”
“Good. What starts with ‘A’?”
“A—A—“
“Remember, the sound can be ‘uh’ as well as ‘ay’.”
Ned drew out the sound. Mrs. Davidson imagined him looking around. “Armchair,” he said in triumph.
“Good,” Tessa said, sounding every bit the schoolteacher. “Now try this one.”
“D. Dee…duh…door.”
“That was an easy one. Here’s a hard one.”
“Double-u.”
“Okay, what starts with that?”
“I’m not sure about the sound.” He paused. “Can you tell me some words that start with double-u?”
“Water. Well. What.”
“So—wuh. Wuh. Window.”
“Very good. You’ll be reading soon, Ned. You will.”
“Give me another, Tessa.”
“Try this one.”
“P. Puh—pretty girl.”
Tessa laughed. “That’s cheating.”
“But it’s right, isn’t it?” There was another long pause. “You look different these days. Better.”
“I—I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
Mrs. Davidson decided it was time to come in. Balancing the tray on one hip, she opened the door. “Time for tea, chickies,” she said.
They looked up from where they sat at a table together, an open book in front of them. Tessa had a faint blush staining her cheeks, and Mrs. Davidson could see that she was much less pale and lost-looking than she had been. Curious, that. She busied herself with pouring two cups of tea, and setting out the plates of sandwiches and biscuits. Dainty fare for swallows, although she’d serve them something heartier after the heat of the day was past.
Mr. Fitz, she reflected, had sensed her disapproval, even if she’d said nothing. “Mrs. Davidson, it’s very simple. If they eat well, I eat well.” She’d pursed her lips, thinking that times had changed.
“Are you learning your letters, then, Neddy?” she asked.
He nodded, and swallowed hard to down a mouthful of biscuit. “That I am, Mrs. D.”
“He’s doing well,” Tessa added.
Mrs. Davidson favored them with a smile. “I’m sure that will please Mr. Fitz.”
A sharp rap on the front door caused all three of them to look up. Mrs. Davidson frowned. “Mr. Fitz didn’t say anything about visitors.” She rose with heavy grace, and left the room.
Schuyler Smith was admiring the arched entrance. He’d not had occasion to visit Fitz at home since his friend had moved into the recently completed townhouse. Yet no footman sprang to open the door to him, and that was a small disappointment. Even with the problems of the war, he hadn’t expected Fitz to be understaffed. Ah, finally, here was someone.
When the door opened to reveal a rather forbidding middle-aged woman, Schuyler smiled affably. “I’m here to see Fitzgerald,” he said.
“Mr. Fitzgerald is not currently receiving.” The dragon frowned.
“If you would be so kind as to tell him that Schuyler Smith is here, he may change his mind.”
Mrs. Davidson considered. The name was unfamiliar, and she knew her employer was resting. There was a chance, however, that he would wish to speak with this man. “Come in,” she said. “I’ll inform the master.”
Schuyler’s smile broadened. “Thank you very much,” he said, entering the house. He was very much interested to see the furnishings. Fitzgerald’s house was furnished well, heavy mahogany predominating. As Sky walked into the parlor, he was struck by the lack of ornament, the room so plain and unfussy. Still, Fitz was a young man, single, and new to the city. He didn’t have the baggage of pictures, curios, and family heirlooms most men had forced on them by their female relations. And Fitz didn’t seem like one to be seeking out clutter. Although a good work of art or two wouldn’t hurt anything.
He was more taken aback at the occupants of Fitz’s parlor. A pale, dark-haired beauty, and a blond boy were both looking at him in dismay. The young woman held a teacup, and he saw her hand was trembling slightly, the cup whispering against the saucer as she tried to steady it with her other hand. The boy had a pair of the prettiest blue eyes Sky thought he’d ever seen, lit with sparks of intelligence, and an odd sense of experience. He looked at the housekeeper with a knowing smirk. “I had no idea,” he said. “Old Fitz is cagier than I thought.”
Mrs. Davidson’s face was frozen in disapproval. “These are Mr. Fitzgerald’s wards,” she said. “And I’m quite sure Mr. Smith won’t wish to be bothered with your lessons. Mr. Larsen, Miss Howard, perhaps you can find something to do in your rooms?”
Ned rose at once, and turned to offer Tessa a hand. She put her hand in his, rising with a fluid motion.
“Thank you,” she murmured to him, then spoke more loudly. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smith.”
“Charmed, I’m sure,” he returned, but as they exited, he grasped Ned’s wrist, playfully. “Now, Mr. Larsen, don’t you want to keep me company while I wait for –“
“My guardian. Mr. Fitz is my guardian.” Ned wanted to jerk free. This man’s hand was too warm, and he didn’t like the tiny caressing motion of the thumb against his wrist. But there was no way to do it, without rudeness, and even in this short time, he knew Mr. Fitz wouldn’t tolerate discourtesy to a guest. He smiled pointedly, and flicked a glance at his wrist.
Sky didn’t want to press a point, and he knew when advances were unwelcome. He released the boy’s wrist, and made his face blandly pleasant. “Guardian. That’s nice. Have you two been his wards long?”
“Not long.” Ned took a seat by the tea tray, hoping against hope for an escape.
“So what makes a young businessman like Josef Fitzgerald take such an interest in waifs? Was he a friend of your parents? Managing their estates, perhaps?”
“Tessa and I are orphans. And you’ll have to ask Mr. Fitz why he’s been so kind. I can’t explain it. But I thank God for it every night.”
“Curious that he’s never mentioned you—either of you—to me.”
Ned’s smile echoed the sardonic amusement he often saw on his vampire’s face. I’ll just bet he hasn’t, he thought. “Perhaps Mr. Fitz is not one to trumpet his private charities to the world.”
Sky beamed back at him. “Excellent answer, Mr. Larsen. Should Fitz ever tire of extending his—charity—to you, I’d suggest you might find that I also can be charitable.”
The soft noise behind him of a throat being cleared drew his attention, and Sky turned to find Josef Fitzgerald just inside the room, his eyes wintry with anger.
“Trust me, Sky,” he said quietly, “neither Ned nor Tessa will ever be in the position of requiring further charity.”
“No harm meant, Fitz,” Sky responded easily. “Perhaps I was mistaken.”
“Perhaps you were.” Josef angled his shoulders toward the boy. “Ned, it looks as though your tea was interrupted. Tell Mrs. Davidson to bring you and Tessa a fresh tray upstairs, and you can continue your lessons.”
Ned rose. “Thank you, Mr. Fitz. I’ll tell her.” He made sure his route out of the parlor kept the vampire between him and Mr. Smith.
Once he was out of the room, and the door closed behind him, Josef came to sit down, sparing a momentary disdainful glance at the abandoned tea tray. “Sky,” he said, “have I ever—in any way whatsoever—indicated to you I would have an interest in keeping a live-in catamite?”
“And a mistress.”
“And a mistress. Seriously.”
“I have to admit it seems extravagant. And unlikely.”
“And yet, that was your first assumption.”
Sky shrugged. “You are a bachelor. Stranger things have happened.”
“Possibly not in this neighborhood.” He sighed. “It is a longstanding custom in my family to offer assistance to—unfortunates. And I like a house with a bit of life in it.”
“Well, my other thought was that you’d caught hold of a pair of heirs. More than one fortune’s been made in this town through creative management of inheritances.”
“Nice idea, but no. Not this time. And, Sky, I won’t have either of my wards importuned. Please remember that they may be penniless, but they are not unprotected.”
“So I see.”
Josef sat back, crossing his long legs. “Now, I assume you had some legitimate reason for coming to my home?”
“You weren’t in your office.”
“A great deal of my business is conducted elsewhere. But not here.”
Sky shrugged. “I took a chance. I wanted to talk to you.”
“So, is this urgently important to me, or just to you?”
Sky paused, as if gathering his thoughts, and took a deep breath.
“Save the speech. It’s Cam again,” Josef said. “I can tell by the look on your face. You know, your friendship for him must be unusually close, for you to go to all this trouble. Is he as attached to you as you are to him?”
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating.”
Josef frowned, with a tiny shake of his head. “I’m not insinuating anything. Just observing. And remarking that anything I can observe, others will, too. You’re getting careless, Sky. And I never pegged you as a careless man.”
Sky moved restlessly in his chair. “This isn’t about me, Fitz.”
“Isn’t it.”
“Cam—”
“Cam Marshall is running headlong into his own destruction. I’ve never seen anyone be forcibly stopped, once they’d determined on a course like that.”
“If he were free of Mlle. Duvall’s influence—”
“You think she’s the only adventuress in this city? Open your eyes, Sky.”
Sky flipped a hand into the air. “La Duvall is a particularly pernicious example of the breed. She’s sucking the life out of him.”
Josef winced inwardly at the metaphor. Too close to home. “I can’t disagree with that. And I’m starting to wonder why I’m being designated to take the bullet here.”
The smile he got in response was wry. “Maybe we recognize strength as well as weakness.”
“Tell me what you think I can do,” Josef said with a sigh. “I’m not promising anything. But I’ll listen.”
“You met with her, didn’t you?”
“Yes, and she told me, very charmingly, to go to hell. It sounds so much more appealing with a French accent.”
“Surely, if you offered her enough money, she’d leave.” Sky rose, and began to pace. “She can’t actually be attached to him, can she?”
“I’m just getting a feel for her personality. And I’d say it’s possible.”
“That’s bad.”
“Indeed.” Josef refused to watch Sky on his circuits of the room. “Look, I know you and his family are worried, but these things take time.”
“I’m not sure we have time.”
“I’m meeting with Mlle. Duvall again in two days time. I think I have a way of getting to her, but it will take time.”
Sky sighed. “But can I tell his mother there’s a plan?”
“Not yet. Tell her—tell her there’s an idea.”
Disclaimer: I don't own Josef. Darn.
A Game of Chess
Chapter 12
Pausing in the hallway outside the parlor, Mrs. Davidson shifted the heavy tray in her hands, reflecting again that Mr. Fitz was spoiling these children rotten. In any other household, despite extra duties, Tessa would be spending her days sweeping and polishing, and Ned would be in the stable, helping Mr. Fox. Instead, they were about be interrupted in their leisure to partake of a hearty tea.
Not that she’d presume to argue with Mr. Fitz, but he’d evidently far different ideas than most of his kind. She knew he expected devotion and discretion, and she had no doubt but that he’d punish infractions ruthlessly enough, but he seemed willing to inspire loyalty, too.
She was curious to listen to the two swallows closeted alone in the parlor.
“You think you can recognize all your letters now?” Tessa asked.
“I’ve been practicing.” Ned’s voice was confident.
“We’ll see.” There was a pause, a ruffle of pages. “All right, we’re going to play a game. I’m going to point to a letter, and you look around the room and find something that starts with that sound. Hmm, okay, what’s this letter?”
“A.”
“Good. What starts with ‘A’?”
“A—A—“
“Remember, the sound can be ‘uh’ as well as ‘ay’.”
Ned drew out the sound. Mrs. Davidson imagined him looking around. “Armchair,” he said in triumph.
“Good,” Tessa said, sounding every bit the schoolteacher. “Now try this one.”
“D. Dee…duh…door.”
“That was an easy one. Here’s a hard one.”
“Double-u.”
“Okay, what starts with that?”
“I’m not sure about the sound.” He paused. “Can you tell me some words that start with double-u?”
“Water. Well. What.”
“So—wuh. Wuh. Window.”
“Very good. You’ll be reading soon, Ned. You will.”
“Give me another, Tessa.”
“Try this one.”
“P. Puh—pretty girl.”
Tessa laughed. “That’s cheating.”
“But it’s right, isn’t it?” There was another long pause. “You look different these days. Better.”
“I—I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
Mrs. Davidson decided it was time to come in. Balancing the tray on one hip, she opened the door. “Time for tea, chickies,” she said.
They looked up from where they sat at a table together, an open book in front of them. Tessa had a faint blush staining her cheeks, and Mrs. Davidson could see that she was much less pale and lost-looking than she had been. Curious, that. She busied herself with pouring two cups of tea, and setting out the plates of sandwiches and biscuits. Dainty fare for swallows, although she’d serve them something heartier after the heat of the day was past.
Mr. Fitz, she reflected, had sensed her disapproval, even if she’d said nothing. “Mrs. Davidson, it’s very simple. If they eat well, I eat well.” She’d pursed her lips, thinking that times had changed.
“Are you learning your letters, then, Neddy?” she asked.
He nodded, and swallowed hard to down a mouthful of biscuit. “That I am, Mrs. D.”
“He’s doing well,” Tessa added.
Mrs. Davidson favored them with a smile. “I’m sure that will please Mr. Fitz.”
A sharp rap on the front door caused all three of them to look up. Mrs. Davidson frowned. “Mr. Fitz didn’t say anything about visitors.” She rose with heavy grace, and left the room.
Schuyler Smith was admiring the arched entrance. He’d not had occasion to visit Fitz at home since his friend had moved into the recently completed townhouse. Yet no footman sprang to open the door to him, and that was a small disappointment. Even with the problems of the war, he hadn’t expected Fitz to be understaffed. Ah, finally, here was someone.
When the door opened to reveal a rather forbidding middle-aged woman, Schuyler smiled affably. “I’m here to see Fitzgerald,” he said.
“Mr. Fitzgerald is not currently receiving.” The dragon frowned.
“If you would be so kind as to tell him that Schuyler Smith is here, he may change his mind.”
Mrs. Davidson considered. The name was unfamiliar, and she knew her employer was resting. There was a chance, however, that he would wish to speak with this man. “Come in,” she said. “I’ll inform the master.”
Schuyler’s smile broadened. “Thank you very much,” he said, entering the house. He was very much interested to see the furnishings. Fitzgerald’s house was furnished well, heavy mahogany predominating. As Sky walked into the parlor, he was struck by the lack of ornament, the room so plain and unfussy. Still, Fitz was a young man, single, and new to the city. He didn’t have the baggage of pictures, curios, and family heirlooms most men had forced on them by their female relations. And Fitz didn’t seem like one to be seeking out clutter. Although a good work of art or two wouldn’t hurt anything.
He was more taken aback at the occupants of Fitz’s parlor. A pale, dark-haired beauty, and a blond boy were both looking at him in dismay. The young woman held a teacup, and he saw her hand was trembling slightly, the cup whispering against the saucer as she tried to steady it with her other hand. The boy had a pair of the prettiest blue eyes Sky thought he’d ever seen, lit with sparks of intelligence, and an odd sense of experience. He looked at the housekeeper with a knowing smirk. “I had no idea,” he said. “Old Fitz is cagier than I thought.”
Mrs. Davidson’s face was frozen in disapproval. “These are Mr. Fitzgerald’s wards,” she said. “And I’m quite sure Mr. Smith won’t wish to be bothered with your lessons. Mr. Larsen, Miss Howard, perhaps you can find something to do in your rooms?”
Ned rose at once, and turned to offer Tessa a hand. She put her hand in his, rising with a fluid motion.
“Thank you,” she murmured to him, then spoke more loudly. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smith.”
“Charmed, I’m sure,” he returned, but as they exited, he grasped Ned’s wrist, playfully. “Now, Mr. Larsen, don’t you want to keep me company while I wait for –“
“My guardian. Mr. Fitz is my guardian.” Ned wanted to jerk free. This man’s hand was too warm, and he didn’t like the tiny caressing motion of the thumb against his wrist. But there was no way to do it, without rudeness, and even in this short time, he knew Mr. Fitz wouldn’t tolerate discourtesy to a guest. He smiled pointedly, and flicked a glance at his wrist.
Sky didn’t want to press a point, and he knew when advances were unwelcome. He released the boy’s wrist, and made his face blandly pleasant. “Guardian. That’s nice. Have you two been his wards long?”
“Not long.” Ned took a seat by the tea tray, hoping against hope for an escape.
“So what makes a young businessman like Josef Fitzgerald take such an interest in waifs? Was he a friend of your parents? Managing their estates, perhaps?”
“Tessa and I are orphans. And you’ll have to ask Mr. Fitz why he’s been so kind. I can’t explain it. But I thank God for it every night.”
“Curious that he’s never mentioned you—either of you—to me.”
Ned’s smile echoed the sardonic amusement he often saw on his vampire’s face. I’ll just bet he hasn’t, he thought. “Perhaps Mr. Fitz is not one to trumpet his private charities to the world.”
Sky beamed back at him. “Excellent answer, Mr. Larsen. Should Fitz ever tire of extending his—charity—to you, I’d suggest you might find that I also can be charitable.”
The soft noise behind him of a throat being cleared drew his attention, and Sky turned to find Josef Fitzgerald just inside the room, his eyes wintry with anger.
“Trust me, Sky,” he said quietly, “neither Ned nor Tessa will ever be in the position of requiring further charity.”
“No harm meant, Fitz,” Sky responded easily. “Perhaps I was mistaken.”
“Perhaps you were.” Josef angled his shoulders toward the boy. “Ned, it looks as though your tea was interrupted. Tell Mrs. Davidson to bring you and Tessa a fresh tray upstairs, and you can continue your lessons.”
Ned rose. “Thank you, Mr. Fitz. I’ll tell her.” He made sure his route out of the parlor kept the vampire between him and Mr. Smith.
Once he was out of the room, and the door closed behind him, Josef came to sit down, sparing a momentary disdainful glance at the abandoned tea tray. “Sky,” he said, “have I ever—in any way whatsoever—indicated to you I would have an interest in keeping a live-in catamite?”
“And a mistress.”
“And a mistress. Seriously.”
“I have to admit it seems extravagant. And unlikely.”
“And yet, that was your first assumption.”
Sky shrugged. “You are a bachelor. Stranger things have happened.”
“Possibly not in this neighborhood.” He sighed. “It is a longstanding custom in my family to offer assistance to—unfortunates. And I like a house with a bit of life in it.”
“Well, my other thought was that you’d caught hold of a pair of heirs. More than one fortune’s been made in this town through creative management of inheritances.”
“Nice idea, but no. Not this time. And, Sky, I won’t have either of my wards importuned. Please remember that they may be penniless, but they are not unprotected.”
“So I see.”
Josef sat back, crossing his long legs. “Now, I assume you had some legitimate reason for coming to my home?”
“You weren’t in your office.”
“A great deal of my business is conducted elsewhere. But not here.”
Sky shrugged. “I took a chance. I wanted to talk to you.”
“So, is this urgently important to me, or just to you?”
Sky paused, as if gathering his thoughts, and took a deep breath.
“Save the speech. It’s Cam again,” Josef said. “I can tell by the look on your face. You know, your friendship for him must be unusually close, for you to go to all this trouble. Is he as attached to you as you are to him?”
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating.”
Josef frowned, with a tiny shake of his head. “I’m not insinuating anything. Just observing. And remarking that anything I can observe, others will, too. You’re getting careless, Sky. And I never pegged you as a careless man.”
Sky moved restlessly in his chair. “This isn’t about me, Fitz.”
“Isn’t it.”
“Cam—”
“Cam Marshall is running headlong into his own destruction. I’ve never seen anyone be forcibly stopped, once they’d determined on a course like that.”
“If he were free of Mlle. Duvall’s influence—”
“You think she’s the only adventuress in this city? Open your eyes, Sky.”
Sky flipped a hand into the air. “La Duvall is a particularly pernicious example of the breed. She’s sucking the life out of him.”
Josef winced inwardly at the metaphor. Too close to home. “I can’t disagree with that. And I’m starting to wonder why I’m being designated to take the bullet here.”
The smile he got in response was wry. “Maybe we recognize strength as well as weakness.”
“Tell me what you think I can do,” Josef said with a sigh. “I’m not promising anything. But I’ll listen.”
“You met with her, didn’t you?”
“Yes, and she told me, very charmingly, to go to hell. It sounds so much more appealing with a French accent.”
“Surely, if you offered her enough money, she’d leave.” Sky rose, and began to pace. “She can’t actually be attached to him, can she?”
“I’m just getting a feel for her personality. And I’d say it’s possible.”
“That’s bad.”
“Indeed.” Josef refused to watch Sky on his circuits of the room. “Look, I know you and his family are worried, but these things take time.”
“I’m not sure we have time.”
“I’m meeting with Mlle. Duvall again in two days time. I think I have a way of getting to her, but it will take time.”
Sky sighed. “But can I tell his mother there’s a plan?”
“Not yet. Tell her—tell her there’s an idea.”