Deviating from the original plot

Chapter fifty

He studied her for a moment longer, before finally shaking his head with a small smile.
"Well, if it insists on staying, then I suppose our household has gained a rather peculiar guest."

"A peculiar guest indeed..." Victoria murmured as she rose from her seat. "Good day, Father. I'll be going out again."

Her father gave her a brief, measuring glance before inclining his head. "Very well. Be safe, dear."

"Of course, Father." She curtsied lightly before withdrawing, her mind already on the preparations awaiting her.

✦ ✦

Later that morning, the three women arrived at the abandoned warehouse, its weathered doors groaning as they pushed them open.

"Nothing seems out of the ordinary," Celeste murmured as they stepped inside, their footsteps echoing faintly across the dusty floor. Evelyn ran her fingers along the damp walls while Victoria opened a stack of crates.

"Just scraps of wood and metal in here," Victoria muttered, brushing dust off her hands before sneezing. The sound echoed, earning a quiet chuckle from the other two.

"Like I said—nothing unusual," Celeste remarked, folding her arms.

Victoria frowned. "Then where do we go from here?"

Before either of them could answer, footsteps echoed from outside.

Without a word, the women slipped behind the crates, hearts pounding as the warehouse doors creaked open once more. Four figures entered, their shadows stretching long across the floor.

The four figures pried open a hidden hatch in the floor. From the dark hollow beneath, they hauled up a heavy crate, its iron corners scraping against the wood. With a grunt, they lifted it out and carried it toward the exit.

Victoria, Celeste, and Evelyn exchanged a glance from behind the crates.

Quietly, they slipped from their hiding place just as the men hefted the crate onto a waiting cart. The horses stamped impatiently, snorting as the wheels groaned into motion.

"What was that?" Victoria whispered, her eyes narrowing at the disappearing waggon.

"I'm not certain," Celeste murmured, "but it looks like a promising lead. We can't afford to ignore it—let's follow them."

The three women slipped out of the warehouse, their eyes fixed on the cart rolling down the cobbled street.

"Excuse me!" Evelyn called, quickly waving down an empty carriage passing by. The driver pulled on the reins, and the horses slowed to a halt.

"Can you follow that cart up ahead?" she asked, gesturing toward the waggon in the distance.

The coachman gave her a brief, puzzled look but nodded all the same. "As you wish, miss."

The women climbed inside at once. The carriage jolted forward. The sound of hooves striking stone picked up, keeping pace with the cart ahead.

The waggon turned sharply down a narrower lane, away from the main road. Their driver slowed instinctively, allowing a bit more distance.

"Seems they're heading for the depot," Evelyn murmured, slipping the curtain back into place after a quick glance outside.

"The depot?" Victoria repeated, her brows furrowing. "Why there of all places?"

Celeste leaned back against the seat, thoughtful. "If they're trying to transport something they smuggled, a depot makes sense."

The carriage jolted as it turned sharply, following the cart down a narrower road.

Evelyn lowered her voice. "We'll need to be careful."

The depot loomed ahead, its iron gates stretching high. One of the men leapt down from the cart, unlatched the gate, and waved the cart inside before pulling it shut again with a heavy clang.

Their own carriage rolled to a halt some distance away. The coachman twisted in his seat, peering through the small window. "This is as close as I dare, ladies."

Snow crunched beneath their boots as the three women stepped down.

"That will do," Evelyn said, pressing a coin into his palm. "Stay close, and wait for us."

The man tipped his cap with a nod.

The women pressed forward through the snow, reaching the gate. With a careful tug, they eased it open just enough to slip inside.

"Where's the cart?" Victoria whispered, her eyes sweeping across the yard.

"I don't see it..." Celeste said.

Evelyn's gaze sharpened as she pointed toward a cluster of sheds at the far end. "Let's check there," she said quietly.

The women slipped across the yard. Reaching the sheds, they pressed against the wall, careful to stay out of sight. Slowly, Evelyn leaned just enough to peer around the corner.

Inside, two men were heaving the crate onto a table, while a third drew out a crowbar. The screech of metal against wood cut through the air as the lid began to give way.

Victoria's breath caught. "This is it," she mouthed.

The lid gave way with a sharp crack, and the men bent over the crate. One of them let out a low whistle.

"Now's our chance—while they're distracted," Celeste said, snatching up a loose plank from the ground.

"Lady Celeste, no!" Victoria whispered urgently, but her warning fell on deaf ears.

Celeste darted forward before either of them could stop her, raising the plank high and swinging it hard toward the nearest man's face.

The plank smacked against the man's cheek with a dull crack. He fell back, clutching his face.

The others spun around at once, shock flashing in their eyes before twisting into anger.

"Hey!" one of them barked, reaching for Celeste.

She swung again wildly, hitting one of them again. But another man lunged from the side, grabbing her arm. The plank slipped from her grasp and clattered to the ground.

"Lady Celeste!" Evelyn hissed, already rushing from cover. She grabbed a stone from the ground and hurled it with surprising force, striking the man's shoulder. He cursed and loosened his grip just enough for Celeste to wrench free.

Victoria's heart pounded as she scrambled forward. She had nothing but her hands, but she couldn't leave them to fend alone.

Victoria darted forward and drove her fist into the man who had seized Celeste earlier. A sickening crunch split the air as his head snapped back—he crumpled to the ground, blood spilling from his nose, dazed and groaning.

Victoria blinked at her own hand, flexing her fingers in disbelief. "Wow... I swear I didn't hit him that hard," she muttered under her breath.

The third man snarled and advanced on them with heavy steps, fury burning in his eyes. Before he could reach them, Evelyn appeared at his side, swinging a metal pipe. The metal connected with a hollow clang, and the man dropped like a sack of flour.

The silence after the scuffle was deafening. Three men lay sprawled on the floor, groaning in pain.

The last one's jaw quivered, his mouth hanging open in fear. He stumbled backward with both hands raised.
"Just—just take it! Take whatever you want!" He stammered.

Evelyn lifted the pipe threateningly, her eyes narrowing, while the others moved to the crate. They looked into the crate and froze.

Inside, stacked neatly to the brim, were nothing more than tins of sardines.