Chapter 46.2
The map Bill Bryton handed them had been drawn by Eddie Kirkham. Both Wade and Claude’s expressions were stern.
“You’re saying the map was incorrectly drawn?”
“Yes. The police and the army all moved according to the map. But it led to the street that was blocked. That’s also why Sir Canillian rescue was delayed.”
Bryton, wiping cold sweat off his face with a handkerchief, looked so pathetic that they felt sorry for him.
They had only discovered that the map was wrong thanks to the children that the duke’s family had taken in. As they discussed how to find a guide who would lead them to the doctor hiding in Louvre, Ivan brought in the children.
“There is a very old church here. Not a bar. And,” the boy said, pointing to the map, “this is a sewer here. I hid there when I was playing hide-and-seek with friends, but ever since I saw a scary ghost, I don’t go in there anymore. That’s why we blocked the entrance with trash. It was so scary.”
The children trembled at the boy’s tale, and hugged Ivan as they relived their fear. The children were telling the truth.
Bryton had discovered that the map was wrong after investigating their failed mission, and therefore he requested this meeting with the prince.
“How many anarchists are there in total?” asked the prince.
“To be safe, we have to assume that it’s the population of the Louvre,” answered Bryton.
“And you led the operation without double-checking the validity of the map?”
“It was my incompetence. I will bear whichever punishment you see fit.”
“You’ve been deceived and bested by Eddie Kirkham. This isn’t just incompetence, it’s a disgrace.”
Bryton’s head lowered further in shame at the prince’s cold words, his eyes glued to the floor.
Kieran also couldn’t hide his anger. He slammed down his teacup as he remembered the police inspector, who requested witness attendance after putting Canillian in danger.
Claude, however, looked down on the map without a word. He was staring at the red x mark on the map. He put his finger on it and asked, “What place is this?”
Bryton answered after looking at the map.
“Just an ordinary house. My men toured all around the city with the new map.”
“Perhaps, but does it have a red ribbon tied on it?”
“I don’t know. Since we don’t put a mark on it unless its appearance is unique or suspicious…”
Claude nodded his head. Wade went over every report in detail, his expression increasingly exasperated.
The whole thing had been a complete failure.
Even more than a failure. A catastrophe. The plan improvised by the army had resulted in an increased number of well-trained anarchists, mostly from a middle class that had increased in size exponentially.
They were not strong enough to defeat well-prepared anarchists.
“Enough. I won’t hear any more reports of failure.”
Wade dismissed Bryton and his subjects from the guest hall, the grand room grew silent as the uniformed men left.
Claude looked down at the map Bryton had left on the long table, and was still deep in his thoughts.
He stared at one particular point on the map. It was around there that he met the lady who looked so much like Canillian.
The place where everything had looked neglected and rundown. Where only the red ribbon looked new.
“The timing isn’t good, Kieran,” Prince Wade said, “After your engagement to Rosina, father will head to the north personally.”
“His Majesty?”
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“Yes. He is feeling impatient since his most trustworthy duke and marquis are both in that neutral area. Also, there’s Duke Ihar to consider…”
Wade stopped mid-sentence and took out a cigarette.
“Death doesn’t care about time and place. Since we are done here, I’ll be off. I’ll see you at your engagement, Kieran.”
Kieran nodded lightly, the meeting between three men over.
Claude went back into the long gallery instead of heading out. He had something to check.
There was a particular set of eyes that he had noticed tracking his every move when he was near Canillian. A watcher who was too curious and naive to properly mask her spying.
Marilyn, who was chatting with other noble ladies, spotted him across the hall and stood up, meeting his eyes. By her side, the maid with especially pale skin and red hair, who ducked behind Marilyn when he looked at her.
It was Marilyn’s maid who had been watching him with Canillian.
Now knowing that Marilyn was involved, he had his answer about the watcher. The maid had likely been ordered to report to her about his daily life.
Claude quickly lost interest in both Marilyn and her maid. He gave Marilyn a curt nod, and rather than approach her, he left the gallery. He could feel Marilyn’s gaze tracking him as he left, but his only interest was in the map he was holding.
A new-like ribbon, a doctor in hiding, and a horseman who hid. And of course, Eddie Kirkham, who he had personally expelled…
He looked at the arm that was wrapped around Canillian. He kicked himself mentally. Why couldn’t he shake these suspicions? Perhaps it wasn’t suspicion that he couldn’t let go of, but rather his own strange hope? Hope that Canillian was a lady.
It was an unwelcome feeling. Claude ran his hand over his face.
Behind him, just approaching a carriage, Marilyn called out to him.
“Sir Claude!”
Claude couldn’t ignore the direct call and turned to her.
Marilyn walked toward him, the hem of her ornate gown swirling with each step. She stopped in front of him, her face visibly anxious, and coloured as though she had rushed to catch up to him.
“I will visit the north after Princess Rosina’s engagement. With father and mother.”
***
Anastasia arrived back at the town house, dismissed all the attendees and then went to her room.
She stood by the window and pulled back the thick drapery she looked down at the garden and orange grove. She saw a carriage that just left the Marquis mansion.
It was a carriage carrying Canillian. Thinking of him brought back all the meaningless chatter she’d been forced to endure.
Rumour has it that Sir Canillian helped hugely. I am envious that you were blessed with two very dependable sons, Marchioness.
I heard he is in his 9th year at the Academy? The teachers were reportedly astounded by his intelligence.
He looks small and weak for now, but I am sure he will grow bigger. Maybe even bigger than young Marquis… Oh, I am sorry. How is the young Marquis’ health? I hope he is well.
Is he back from the Geore for good? I heard that he is going back to Geore.
The conversations were rife with meaningless envy, jealousy and vapid diversion. Her acquaintances were trying hard to embarrass her after coming back for the first time in 4 years.
Anastasia, knowing all this too well, kept checking on Canillian during the teatime.
That pretty face was getting harder and harder to disguise. As was her petite figure, sweet lilting voice, and silken skin. It was hard to take one’s eyes off her.
She was beautiful. Like her mother.
“Laura…”
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