Page 11 of The Fulbourn: Pitch & Sickle

‘Oh, I am really not in the mood for you, hag.’ Pitch had barely made it into the room, but now looked set to turn about and leave right away.

Silas stepped in, blocking his exit. ‘Don’t pay her any mind, Pitch,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m sure she is just placing her worries for Charlie on you.’ He prayed, to no one in particular, that it was worry and nothing worse than that. ‘Come now.’ He spotted the only other uncovered chair in the room, a wide armchair of a well-worn leather that had faded in some places and cracked in others. ‘Take a seat.’

He touched a light hand to Pitch’s elbow, fully expecting a slap in return, but the daemon allowed himself to be guided. Silas quickly turned the chair about so that it was facing the chaise instead of the barren hearth and the soothsayer with her oddly unreadable expression. A tightness held Silas’s ribs.Let this be good news and not bad.

‘Well, we are here. What’s this summons for, then?’ Pitch said.

If Silas was not mistaken, the daemon made a small grunt of discomfort as he lowered himself into the seat.

‘You seem much better, Tobias.’ Lady Satine toyed with one of the tight spirals of her peppered hair.

‘I’m as well as I’ll be, I suspect. Now can we get on with things? What do you have to say to us, Satty?’

‘It is not me but Tyvain who shall do the speaking.’

Pitch glared at the soothsayer. ‘Get on with it, then.’

‘Did ya know there is such a word as please? Ya little shit.’ Tyvain waved a lace-gloved hand at the prince. Silas wondered if she knew exactly who it was she was treating with such disdain. He highly doubted it. No one would be that reckless with their safety.

‘Did you find them, Tyvain?’ Silas hoped he did not sound as desperate as he felt. ‘Is Charlie all right? The lieutenant?’

‘Nah. That’s the thing, ya see.’ Tyvain’s gaze fell to her hands, where she rubbed at the too-delicate seams of her gloves. ‘Last I ’eard from Charlie, ’e was thinkin’ of strikin’ up a conversation with Charters at some pub near Berkeley Square. Now I can’t find the lad, and it’s like Edward Charters vanished plain off the face of the map. Friends don’t know nothin’ of note, save for ’im being unwell, which no one seems surprised about.’

‘Berkeley Square?’ Pitch said. ‘That’s near his residence. I’m presuming your superlative detective skills involved knocking on his door?’

‘Of course.’ The soothsayer scowled. ‘I tried to get in ta see ’is mother. It’s just ’er and some sour-faced butler livin’ there. But I couldn’t get a foot past that old bastard, Thomas. Made the mistake of sayin’ I was from the Order. Thought they might be ’ankerin’ for a seance like the rest of society is. That went down like a feckin’ charm full of shite. Might as well ’ave said I was a whore come lookin’ for me payment. Thought about mentionin’ you, Astaroth.’ She jerked a thumb towards Pitch. ‘But that didn’t seem like a grand idea. Just thinkin’ about it ’ad me bloatin’ up like I’d eaten a rotten egg. Then I realised why that was. You and the lieutenant was flirtin’ all season. Had London society buzzin’ and puttin’ bets on ’ow soon it would be before you got your dick in Mr Charters’s arse.’

‘Good god,’ Silas coughed. ‘Tyvain –’

‘All’s I’m sayin’ is there’s ’istory between ’em. The sort the lieutenant’s ma wouldn’t like ’earin’. Nor that fella Thomas neither.’

Silas studied his hands, trying very hard to keep the image of Edward and Pitch at the Moon Inn from his mind.

‘Probably the most sensible thing you’ve done in years, hag, not mentioning me, I mean.’ Pitch crossed his legs, smoothing at his thigh. ‘Thomas is not overly fond of me since he copped an eyeful of Edward and I in the study, with my tongue between his master’s arse cheeks. But I say that will teach the old cunt not to spy on others.’

Lady Satine’s chuckle was throaty, while Tyvain’s disdain mingled with amusement, but Silas had heard more than enough.

He folded his arms and paced away from the daemon, scowling. ‘As delightful as this trip down memory lane is, I fear the point of this conversation is far less amusing. Tyvain, what your gut is telling you, in summary, is that you don’t believe Edward is at home convalescing, and you still have no idea where Charlie is?’

Pitch was watching him. Silas felt the graze of emerald upon him, but he could not look at the daemon. He feared if he did so, Pitch might see how talk of his dalliances with Edward had stung. And such petty jealousies were embarrassing and ill-timed.

‘That’s what I’m sayin’.’ Tyvain sighed. ‘I tried a few other of me own contacts. A scullery maid in Baron Faversham’s place, who I thought might ’ave ’eard some whispers. But I got nothin’. With winter ’ere, some are sayin’ ’e’s likely gone to the Continent. Others said ’e’s run off with a new paramour so as to get away from ’is mother, who ’e don’t much like. But a week ago ’e was out and about. Not lookin’ fit as a fiddle mind. Word is ’e’s been moping about for a while, but ’e was still keepin’ in touch with ’is circle of friends often enough. Until suddenly ’e ain’t, and I ain’t got no carrier pigeon comin’ back to me from Charlie. We need to get into that ’ouse to ’ave a proper look around, I say.’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe the lad got ’imself locked in a cellar or somethin’ pokin’ about…and all this worry is for nothin’.’

‘There’d be no need for worry at all if you had not sent him on such a dangerous errand.’ Silas’s anger warmed him.

‘Weren’t meant to be dangerous, in me defence,’ Tyvain returned. ‘Besides, the lad’s capable of undertakin’ a dangerous errand, Mercer. ’E was by ’imself on the roads a long while before you met up in those woods.’

‘But he should be safer now,’ Silas said markedly. ‘I asked you and Old Bess to keep him close. To keep him safe.’

Tyvain had the decency not to protest. ‘Yeah…I know ya did. I don’t feel good about this, all right? I’m so sick to me gut, I don’t know what is worry and what is a bloody sign.’

‘You and your gut can stand down, hag. Silas?’ Pitch waited until Silas turned around to look at him. ‘We will find them. I promise you that.’ Silas gave him a grateful nod. ‘We need to do more than sneak around their house, though. Just because Edward’s not to be seen here in London doesn’t mean he’s disappeared. Mr Charters’s family has houses all over the country, andallhave cellars perfect for a lad to get locked in while he’s sneaking around. Now it is true that Mr Chartershasbeen unwell for some time.’ Pitch’s resolute manner faltered. ‘He’s prone to a dark mood. It’s likely he has just spirited himself off to one of the country houses, or is indeed on the Continent.’

‘And not a one of his friends knows about it?’ Silas remained uncertain.

Pitch did not look convinced of his own theory. ‘Perhaps?’ he said. ‘Maybe he wished to be alone. What we need to do is speak with Edward’s mother.’

‘Well she ain’t sayin’ nothin’ to nobody.’ Tyvain scratched at her neck, dragging down the high collar to reach the spot.