Page 10 of Code Name Duchess


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Winnie shivered as she squatted behind a tree across the street from the eerie-looking St. Giles in the Field. The large Venetian windows loomed above her, and when she craned her neck, the beautiful stained glass distracted her—the sun reflected in them, giving the windows a sparkle. Winnifred was a great lover of the arts and architecture, and this church would have held her interest if it wasn’t for the very purpose of her visit—to find her brother.

She pulled her cape up higher as she surveyed the area. St. Giles was even scarier than she’d anticipated, and a part of her regretted coming here alone. She ought to have brought Mr. Markham, or preferably, Seth. She’d feel so much better if she had him by her side. Not just because she harbored such deep feelings for him but because he was a tall, burly man who inspired respect and reverence in anyone who met him.

On the other hand, she was but a small, slight lady, and from the characters she’d spotted thus far, it would not serve her well. St. Giles was well known for the many flophouses, courtesans, and elbow crookers. Winnie shuddered as she thought of the wretched structures that served as homes to these poor people. People patched up broken windows with rotten boards or paper, clothes hung out of windows to be dried, only to be splattered with dirt and sewage that ran down the street.

The stench penetrated her nose, and she pinched it shut with her thumb and index finger. The squalor in St. Giles was horrifying. Across the street, a young girl no more than two-and-ten rushed past. Her hair hung wildly around her face, and when Winnie looked down, she saw she wasn’t wearing shoes. On her hip was a little child, his face covered in dirt.

What horror. To live in such a way and to have no option of ever improving one’s life… I will remember this whenever I feel melancholy about my circumstances in life. The worst I am faced with is the prospect of being an old maid. But these people? They are condemned by fate to live in this squalor.

She was considering what she and her brother might be able to do for these people when she had to jolt herself back to reality. Her brother was missing. She was here to find him, not to embark on a charity mission.

She checked the area once more. The location in the letter had been the church, but she was sure this wasn’t the intended meeting place. It was too open for any clandestine meeting.

Suddenly, movement caught her attention. She squinted just as a group of men exited the small, wooden shack of a home across the street. Like the other homes on the road, it too was in ill repair. A rag covered a window, and the front door appeared off its hinges as one of the men lifted it slightly to close it.

The men were dressed in black pantaloons, simple white shirts, and black waistcoats. Upon their heads were black caps. Something about the men drew her attention. She wasn’t sure why, but out of all the buildings on the street, it was nearest to the church and the only one that showed any activity in the last half hour. Plus, the men…There was something peculiar about them.

As the men disappeared around the corner, Winnie got up and rushed across the street. It couldn’t hurt to take a look, she figured. She stood on her tiptoes and pushed the rag aside to peek inside. The room was dark, and the smell of rotten wood wavered out and irritated her nose.

Should I try the front door? No, it would not be a good idea to attempt it. I saw how the man struggled with the door when they exited; if there’s anyone inside, they might hear. Am I fit for Bedlam to even consider going inside? I do not even know if this is the right house…

It didn’t matter, she had to go and check. This was her only clue. Determined, she headed around the back of the house and through the dirty yard. Chickens clucked, and garbage littered the ground as she made her way toward the back door, her gown dragging on the ground. The pale blue hem quickly turned black, and she chided herself for not picking it up as she walked. It was too late now, anyhow.

Winnie pushed open the back door and stepped inside the house. It was dark, just like the room she’d spotted through the window. The scent of rotten wood mingled with the rank scent of tallow candles. Dust hung thick in the air and covered every surface she passed. Her heartbeat was so fast she thought she could hear it.

“A good day, eh wot?” A voice suddenly called out. She shrank back and banged into the wall behind her. Winnie stood still, taken aback by someone still being in the house. She’d know it was a possibility, of course, but she’d hoped she could look around in peace.

“Good day indeed, Morris. That young man is now a little less flush in the pocket while my pockets are filled with gold!” The second voice cracked as the man laughed out loud. The sound of banging followed as if someone was slamming their fist on the table in delight.

“I say, he looked like a proper strait-laced gent, but it’s always those, the arrogant ones too high in the instep, that are the easiest to cheat out of their coin. They think they’re better than us, but we show them every time!”

“We do! More ale, Morris?”

Winnie realized she’d been holding her breath for almost the entire time she’d listened to the conversation. Letting out the air she took a step forward. She had no idea who these men were, but they spoke of someone who wasn’t from St. Giles, the description made it clear. Someone who came here to gamble, whom they’d cheated?

She frowned. Many middle-class gentlemen, as well as some lords, ventured to the rookeries to indulge in drink or gambling, she knew, but Leo wasn’t among those.

Her curiosity was piqued. She slowly made her way forward and went down a hall. The darkness here was more severe as there were no candles lit at all, and the windows were boarded up. The only light came from the room up ahead, the one containing the voices. As she made her way forward, she ran one hand along the wall to steady and guide herself when—

“Oww, watch it.” A voice hissed at her. She looked up and gasped when she recognized the owner of the voice, hidden in the shadows.

“Seth?”

He reached forward and placed his hand in front of her mouth, and pulled her back into another little chamber she hadn’t yet noticed. The feeling of his hand on her mouth filled her with a myriad of emotions. She’d never been so close to Seth as she was now. The scent of lavender water enveloped both of them as she felt his heartbeat against her back.

“Be quiet,” he whispered as he removed his hand. “They’ll kill us if they see us.”

Winnie’s eyes grew wide. She hadn’t considered that this was particularly dangerous. Of course, venturing into someone’s home was not the done thing, but she hadn’t thought herself at grave risk.

“Who are these people? And what are you doing here?” She asked quietly, but he placed a finger on his lips and shook his head.

“Listen,” he whispered and pointed toward the room containing the two men.

They continued standing pressed together in the small chamber adjacent to what had to be the kitchen. The room contained a small table in the corner, and a broken wooden chair, nothing else. It was a study, or had been at one point.

“Elton has a few new Birds of Prey at the flophouse. Did you visit?” Morris asked.

“Eh? Nah. Don’t like those broads Elton brings in. They’re vile creatures with commonplace minds.”