Flames of Revenge

An Unlikely Reunion

March 13th 1872

Que

The night of the fire.

"Hey, I've always wondered, what happened to your eye?"

With the eye that wasn't covered by an eye patch, Whitney fixed me a glare that would have made plants wither. It was not a question she appreciated, clearly. But I'd always been curious, and I figured that I may not ever see her again after tonight, so why not try at least? It didn't seem as though she wanted to sate my curiosity though. She continued to glare, then sighed and turned back to her previous occupation, which was sharpening an already razor sharp knife. As usual, she said nothing. I didn't take it as a bad sign though, in fact I've never once seen her smile. Just once, I'd like to see it. Only once.

Tonight was it. The final act. This was to be our final job, and afterwards we were to split up with the massed fortunes that we would acquire. The thought was a little sad, as I would much rather keep the meaningful, if rather odd, friends that I had made. I want to see Felix one last time, at least. To say a proper goodbye to him, before we part ways for good.

But even these reminiscences, these longings for the future, faded from my mind when I thought of her. Rosalynn. Felix had promised me that he would help me find her again. True to his word as always. Tonight I will see her once more, see her face, see how she has grown. Her absence will once again be filled. The young girl that I found in the ashes will return once more to me. Her smile, her walk, her music. Not only the music that she coaxes from the keys of the piano, but the music in the way she talks, in the way she lives. 

I won't ask her to stay. She left of her own volition, she made up her mind, and as much as I wish her to come back with me for good I will not ask it of her. She is, after all, a grown woman now, and she can make her own way in the world. But I need to speak with her, to right wrongs of our past, and I need to tell her that my door will always be open to her. That she will always be welcome, and that she will always find a home in mine. I hope she will understand. And after tonight, I will finally be able to promise her with certainty a life that will be free of poverty, of worry. I will promise her happiness, but the choice to accept it will be hers and hers alone.

Whitney stood, the wooden legs of her chair scraping the floor with a creak. She slipped the knife she held into a pocket, and said simply,

"It's time."

Chapworth Manor. It loomed above us, an impressive sight to behold. Lit up by flaming sconces on the outer walls, the night cast long shadows up the walls. It was an awe-inspiring piece of architecture, overbearing and dominating its landscape. But to me, it has always seemed...cold. The light that spills from the doorways is a cold one, unwelcoming and condescending.

I sniffed. A faint scent of smoke tainted the air, probably a large hearth fire in a close-by room. We hid in the dense bushes of the surrounding gardens, invisible to any passersby. Not that there would be any at this time of night. This night had been chosen with strategy and tactical advantage in mind, as tonight was to be the night where everyone would be too busy dancing and drinking to notice us. The guests were all in the ballroom, the serving staff in the kitchen and the maids and butlers attending to the needs of the party. No one would be paying any attention to where Chapworth conducted his business. His office. His vault.

It was only Whitney and I now, dressed as members of the serving staff. Tonight, we should be indistinguishable from the household employees. The others waited behind. Oliver's work was done when he ripped the back gate clean of its hinges for us to make our entrance. One has to admire his brute strength, but he is completely useless when it comes to stealth. And to be perfectly honest, he ain't the smartest tool in the shed either. Dexter's role was to wait under the guise of being a chauffeur, sitting atop our carriage and preparing for our getaway. He wasn't exactly disappointed to not be joining in on the action, rather I think he was actually quite pleased to draw the short straw, the easy job. Lay bastard, I say. But still, I'm not complaining. Once we complete the plan as Felix described to us, then I have my own mission to complete. To find Rosalynn.