Zoë Archer - Sweet Revenge

Brompton. He remembered that. And she had mentioned Sydney Street to Simon. The map in Jack’s head unfolded, and he envisioned that exact street. It had rows of genteel houses—where artists and writers often lived and rented rooms. That’s where she was now. At her job? He didn’t know what it might be. An artist’s model? Not quite respectable, that, and the daughter of missionaries would be sure to find respectable work. What, then?

God—could time move more slowly? It felt like an eternity had passed. It had only been fifteen minutes.

He couldn’t wait. He had to show the list to Eva now.

After tucking the folded papers into his pocket, he went to the window as quietly as he could. Pulled it open, slowly, to keep from making noise. The window looked out onto the small yard below. He leaned out and saw that a very narrow path led from the yard toward the front of the building, and onto the street.

Turning sideways so he could fit his shoulders through the window, Jack eased himself through. He gripped the window from the outside, using the strength of his upper body to hold himself upright as he pulled his legs through. It was an awkward business, him twisting and hanging on to the wooden frame, then the bricks, and a trickle of sweat worked its way down his neck. He found footing, wedging his boots into the gaps in the masonry, then climbed down.

Two stories stood between him and the ground. He had to edge across and then down to ensure he didn’t pass in front of any other windows and give himself away to the Nemesis people within. He hadn’t done this much climbing around since his old housebreaking days.

As he passed next to one of the windows, he heard Lazarus. “… least he’s quieted down…”

Jack smirked to himself. And when he had only half a dozen feet between him and the ground, he let go of the wall and jumped down, landing in a crouch.

He stood, and saw a pair of wide eyes staring at him from over the top of the fence bordering the yard. A little boy watched him, his look more curious than frightened.

Jack placed his finger to his lips. The boy nodded in agreement. Jack winked, and then ran.

* * *

“What’s the capital of Portugal?”

Two blank little faces stared back at Eva. The girls shifted on their chairs and plucked at the stitching on their pinafores. They weren’t particularly engaged in their lessons today, but then, Eva wasn’t particularly interested in tutoring, either. She couldn’t stop her thoughts from circling back to Dalton … Jack. Normally, she compartmentalized very well, going back and forth between her current mission with Nemesis and her daily work here, in her rooms.

Yet she found herself rushing the Hallow daughters through their lessons, growing impatient when their attentions wandered. The longer it took to get them through their tutorial, the longer it would be before she could return to headquarters, and Jack.

“Come now, Elspeth, Mary,” Eva said. “We’ve been over this before. It has a lovely castle with crenellations, and a basilica, and a pantheon called Santa Engrácia.” She held up a few pictures of the landmarks, hoping to jog their memory.

“Barcelona,” said Elspeth.

“No, stupid.” Mary rolled her eyes. She was nine and knew everything. “It’s Madrid.”

“Don’t call your sister stupid, Mary. And Madrid is the capital of Spain, not Portugal.”

“I know!” Elspeth, the younger of the two, kicked her heels against her chair’s legs. “Lisbon!”

“Very good.” When the younger girl beamed, Eva continued, “And what happened in 1755 that nearly destroyed the entire city?”

There was a pounding on the stairs outside, as though someone were leaping up them two at a time, but she ignored it. Likely a workman was running late to make repairs on Miss Siles’s rooms. The writer had left her window open the other night, allowing rain to get inside and damage the floorboards. Eva suppressed a sigh. Writers were the most forgetful lot. And now Eva would have to contend with the sounds of a workman’s hammer throughout the day—as if she weren’t already distracted.

“An earthquake,” Mary answered.

At that same moment, a loud knock sounded on Eva’s door. She never locked it during the day, in case any of her pupils came early, and she didn’t want them waiting out in the hall. Before she could ask who it was knocking now, however, the door swung open.

Jack Dalton stood in her doorway.

For a moment, all she could do was gape. His chest rose and fell quickly, and his hair was disheveled. It looked, in fact, as though he’d been running.

Running. Through the city. Looking for her.

And now here he stood. In her rooms.

A quick, stunning burst of pleasure at seeing him, followed immediately by tension and wariness. She stiffened in her chair. Oh Lord, he’d come all the way from the Nemesis headquarters. Did Simon or the others know he was here? What did he want? How had he found her? Were the police chasing him, given that he was an escaped convict? Worst of all—would he give her identity away to Mary and Elspeth Hallow?

Frowning in puzzlement, he crossed the threshold and shut the door behind him. His gaze traveled from her to the wide-eyed girls to the lesson papers arrayed over the table.

Eva slowly rose from her seat.

“We’re learning about Lisbon,” Elspeth said brightly. “It’s the capital of Portugal.”

“Is it, now?” asked Jack. He took a few cautious steps closer, staring at the girls as if they’d dropped out of the sky.

Could she hurry him out the door, before the girls asked questions, before he said anything to reveal her other life?

“Who are you?” asked Mary.

Eva started to answer, a cover story already constructed, but Jack spoke first. “I’m here for schooling, like you.”

The girls giggled. “You’re too old for lessons!” Mary insisted.

Jack’s gaze moved from the girls to Eva, and held. “You can learn new things at any age.” He broke the contact, turning back to the girls. “Never been to Portugal. Have you?”

“We’ve been on holiday in Ramsgate,” said Elspeth. “I had some barley candy and Mary put sand in my hair.”

“Sisters can be the very devil sometimes,” Jack said. “Mine used to follow me everywhere. Couldn’t turn a corner without running right into her. Like a puppy, she was.” Though Jack spoke cheerfully, his eyes were melancholy.

A hard knot lodged itself in Eva’s throat.

“What about you, miss?” Jack directed the question to her. “Do you have any devilish sisters?”

She narrowed her eyes. With the Hallow daughters gazing at her eagerly, he had her in a perfect place for interrogation.

“No sisters. Nor brothers.” None that had lived past infancy, anyway. “I’m all alone.”

“Ah,” Jack countered, “but you’ve got me and Miss Mary and Miss…”

“Elspeth,” the girl filled in.

“That’s three friends. So you’re not alone.”

Jack was most assuredly not her friend. Yet, with him talking so genially with the children—hardly the picture of a tough street-bred ruffian—and being so circumspect in preserving her secret, she had to wonder. Seeing him like this, she felt he became even more real. More … human. Careful demarcations blurred, like a hand-drawn map left out in the rain.

“All right, girls.” She gathered up the lesson papers. “I think that’s enough for today. This nice gentleman’s come for his lessons, and I don’t want to be rude and keep him waiting.”

Mary and Elspeth jumped up from their chairs. “Hooray!”

The utter joy on their faces made her heart sink. It would always be an uphill battle to teach them. But then, most children didn’t care for school or learning. She couldn’t take their reluctance to be there personally. Dentists had it worse. Barely.