London's Calling. Elysabeth Williams
As Silas entered the door to modest log cabin, he noticed it immediately.
“Looks like India is calling,” he said, walking toward it.
“At this time of night?” Eliza asked, putting her brown canvas bag on a chair and taking off her hat.
“It’s possible he’s sending messages at a decent time,” he chuckled, flipping open the leather bound lid. A small, square, metal box sat on a mahogany wood base. Silas pressed a metal button on the top and parchment began to scroll out the top with a rattling of metal keys inside. The letters of the note shimmered as the ink dried on its ascent from the machine.
Silas frowned as he read the message. “It appears our question about going to England or not has been answered for us.” He handed the parchment to Eliza.
“A possible murderess?” she read as she sunk into a nearby chair.
“Or not…” Silas shrugged. “Jillian suggests the woman is not the culprit. Which is interesting for her to get involved with those she employs, considering how she likes to keep her distance.”
“Yes, very interesting. I wonder why she’s attached.”
Silas shrugged again. “Who knows? We’ll have to get back there to figure it out, I suppose.”
“Tomorrow we pack?”
“It seems that way.”
Eliza glanced around the room. Silas watched her expression closely as she surveyed their modest home. Her gaze paused on the oil paintings of them on horses, the log framed bed and quilts she’d made the last winter. They recently spent their third anniversary here. It had been rough the first summer, not being used to the harsh sun near the desert, but they survived. They adapted well to their new surroundings. They seemed to be meant for this side of the world. Silas couldn’t have asked for a better life. He looked to Eliza’s face and her eyes were glassy with unshed tears.
“Do you want to return?” He asked, haltingly.
Eliza sighed and smiled. “I do. I just like it here on our own. It has been a pleasant change.”
“Yes, it has,” he nodded. He sat on the arm of the chair beside her, placing his hand on his shoulder. “Let’s not give this up just yet. We’ll return.”
She leaned into him and laid her head on his leg. “Sounds delightful.”
Chapter 6
“Is there any way you can be certain we'll make it back to England on time?” Miriam asked, stepping on to the large ship.
Kane Maddox shook his head. “None, unfortunately. We'll just have to do our best. The rest can keep everything under wraps until we arrive. Anyway,” he paused and rubbed her pregnant stomach, “It's not like you can do anything at this point in time anyway.”
“Oh shut your mouth, Kane. I can too do anything I'd wish.”
“You need to take care of yourself in your delicate condition.”
Miriam kicked him in the shin. “I'll show you delicate condition.” She sneered at him and then grinned.
Kane rubbed his shin and returned the smile. “Fine. Just no running. Or shooting. You could possibly deafen the baby.”
“There is no way of knowing that is true,” she argued one more time as he pushed her along by the small of her back. Miriam pointed and waggled her finger in his face. Kane politely nodded, placating her until she was firmly planted on the ship with both feet.
“We'll discuss it later, Miriam. We need to get to our room here.”
“Do not dismiss me, Kane Maddox.”
His mouth dropped open. “I am not dismissing you. I am simply advising you, we need to be on the boat to discuss anything so it won't leave without us. It is a very long way to swim from Spain to London.”
“Fine,” she huffed and made her way toward the stairs. Kane watched as she handed her trunks to the ship’s help, who loaded them into the boat and carried them below deck.
Chapter 7
“You said absolutely nothing about a sword. Only a gun.” Miriam said, then stuck her tongue out at Kane.
“I can't believe her,” Silas shook his head as he watched Miriam dodge and parry the attacks from the laughing Jillian.
“You get used to it,” Kane said, looking at Miriam, who was hooting and laughing. “Do you think anything would slow them down?”
“Not certain. Probably nothing at this point. They've been at it for so long.”
There was a small silence as they watched Jillian and Miriam spar with the sabers.
“Have you heard from Devin?”
Silas shook his head. “Not at all. He was supposed to return from India earlier in the spring but has yet to resurface.”
“How odd,” Kane said, his brows furrowing.
Silas couldn't imagine Devin leaving Jillian’s side after all they had been through previously. “Yes, it is odd…but Jillian can take care of herself, right?” Kane asked sarcastically.
“Of course, but…” he shrugged. It was none of his business, obviously. He turned his sights on Eliza, who was heaving with laughter. He thought briefly about the time he was separated from her in his life. Pure torture.
Kane cleared his throat and changed the subject. “What of this Delilah Knightly?”
“Supposedly, she killed her entertainment manager, a Mr. Artie something. I can't remember. But according to Jillian, there's no way she could have done it. The way she described the murder scene, it was very gruesome. It had to have been someone else who was involved.”
“It was that bad?”
“She described it as a massacre. Blood was on the walls, and scrubbed into the wooden floors. Long gashes were dug into the walls from lord-knows-what. It was so quick and brutal– yet no one in the building heard it. The only reason the employees suspected something was amiss was when blood started to drip onto the stage below while they were rehearsing.
“How horrific.” Silas shook his head.
“It makes me wonder though…We've seen the ability of Jillian, Eliza, and Miriam. Who's to say another woman isn't capable of this kind of destruction?” Kane asked walking with his hands clasped behind his back.
Silas joined him in his walk around the area where the women still dodged and lunged at each other. “I thought of it–but given the circumstances–ones that Jillian says she didn't see one person being capable of it. I'd accept that as truth enough.”
“Did he have any enemies…beyond Ms Knightly that is?”
“None we're aware of. Then there's this mysterious newly named Earl who has yet to grace anyone with his presence. Ms. Knightly claims she was with him as he was recovering from assault.”
“Oh?” Kane turned to face Silas and cocked an eyebrow. “What's his name?”
“Dante Heller.”
Kane snapped his fingers. “I know of him. How did he become earl though? He has living family and he was the second or third son if I remember correctly.”
“His father died, and his older brother committed suicide earlier in the year.”
“Tragic.”
“Yes, indeed.”
“How did his father die?”
Silas exhaled a deep breath and shook his head. “My only source advised me it was business gone wrong. He was found in the river.”
“Curious.”