Jacob Frye x Reader

Chapter 38 - Driving Mrs. Disraeli

"Any comment on the notices for the play?" Another one says. It wasn't long before I finally escaped them and returned to the house and towards the carriage, where I found Mrs. Disraeli waiting.

"Neatly done, young man. Dizzy ought to keep you on to deal with the Liberals. Now, a drive is in order, I think. I certainly don't intend to walk the entire way to Devil's Acre." She says. I merely hopped aboard the carriage and grabbed the reins. Just as we were about to be off, I spotted the reporters close by.

"There! In the cart, it's the Prime Minister's wife!" One reporter says.

"I really must not be seen, Mr. Frye!" Mrs. Disraeli says.

"There, in the carriage, get after them!" Another says.

"Let us avoid these vultures!" I snapped the reins and begin to drive away from the reporters. We had finally escaped them, and it wasn't long later when we arrived at the Devil's Acre.

"Ooh, what a rough place! Give me your arm, Mr. Frye. Let us see what the Devil's Acre has to offer." Mrs. Disraeli says. I merely took her by the arm and helped her out of the carriage. Her dog, Desmond, who was sitting in her purse soon begins panting soon after getting out of the carriage.

"Is your dog quite all right?" I ask.

"Oh, Desmond's fine. He's just not over fond of strangers. Or cats." She replies as we begin to walk through Devil's Acre. "Do you know, this gentleman is a...oh, what was it? Yes, a 'costermonger' of all things, Remarkable how the working classes occupy themselves, isn't it?"

"Very industrious, I'm sure. Shall we go?"

"...and so the vicar says, "your pardon, bishop. I thought that was the Eucharist!" We heard a slum resident say.

"I'm so sorry, I have no earthly idea what you're talking about." Mrs. Disraeli says

"A-a-hem. Mrs. Disraeli?" I ask. It was silent for a few moments before she tries to whistle. "Everything all right?"

"Oh yes. I've just learned to whistle."

"Right..." She simply keeps whistling, soon attracting the attention of nearby thugs. I quickly took care of them before trouble arose.

"Why. Mr. Frye. I do believe that man is drunk!"

'I expect you're right, madam."

"I'm going to ask what he's having!"

"Perhaps you'd let me recommend something instead." We continued walking on, eventually passing a couple who seem rather busy...locking lips.

"Ooh, Mr. Frye, look at those two!"

"Err, yes, they, uh, they seem to be umm..."

"I've been married twice, Mr. Frye. I'm fully aware of what they're doing. God bless them." For some reason, (Name) came to mind when seeing the couple. Especially of the times when I almost felt her lips upon mine, only for something to stop us. Before my thoughts could go any further, I shook my head, redirecting my focus on the task at hand. 'Now is not the time to think about (Name).'

"What sort of meat is that man selling?" Mrs. Disraeli said as we passed a merchant.

"Best no to ask." I replied.

"Why? Is it something dreadful? Oh, is it rat?"

"I don't mean to be indelicate, given the present company, but another name for it is "bow wow mutton." It was too long later when we reached a pub. "Here we are, the old One Tun Pub. Best beer in the Devil's Acre." I went in and got us both a tankard of beer.

"So, this is a 'pint', is it? Huh!" I could see the severe distaste on her face after she drank some. "Remarkable."

"Nice doggie" A thug said, only to take Desmond right after and ran off.

"Desmond!" She shouts. I got up from my seat and followed the sound of Desmond's barking. It wasn't long when I caught up with the thug.

"Shut up, dog!" He yelled.

"Good boy, Desmond. Hand over the mutt." I said as I approached them.

"You'll change your tune when me and my friends find you!" He threw Desmond and ran. Thankfully, I caught him. Heaven's knows Mrs. Disraeli would most likely have my head if anything happened to him.

"Now then, Desmond, to get you back to your mistress...whom I've just left entirely unattended in one of London's most dangerous pubs!" My eyes widened in realisation at the thought and ran right back to the pub. As quickly as I could, I got back to the pub and found Mrs. Disraeli with a group of thugs surrounding her.

"Well, if you never told you father how you felt about him, how was he supposed to know?" She said to one of the thugs.

"I never thought of it that way. I suppose deep down we all just want to be loved." He replied to her.

"Just so. Here. Have a sweetie." She grabbed a candy out of her pocket and handed it to him as I placed Desmond on the table. "Ah, Desmond! And Mr. Frye! I'd like you to meet...I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"John the Tosser."

"Charmed." I said in a slight sarcastic tone. I then turned towards Mrs. Disraeli and said. "I think we'd better get you home."

"Right you are, Mr. Frye. Come along, Desmond." As we made our way back towards the carriage, the thug from before appeared to be waiting for us, with a few of his friends too.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the dog walker."

"Now, let's not do something we'll regret." I said as I hopped aboard the carriage, took the reins and drove away before there could be any trouble.

"Well, I must thank you for a most energetic and enlightening evening, Mr. Frye." Mrs. Disraeli said as we made our way back to her home.

"No, thank you, madam. Perhaps now you might tell me about the man in the Hussar's uniform?" I asked.

"Quite right, dear. Lord Cardigan is the gentleman you seek. Tiresome man. Always blathering on about his military adventures."

"Do you know where I might find him for a private conversation?"

"I do indeed. He's in own now, as it happens, campaigning against the Corrupt Practices Bill. Perhaps you could catch him in the Palace of Westminster. Do be careful – the government can ill afford another scandal."

"I assure you, I'll be very discreet." It wasn't long before we finally made it back. I hopped off the carriage and opened the door, helping Mrs. Disraeli out of the carriage. "Your stop, madam."

"My "stop", How delightful, thank you."

Jacob helped Mary Anne out of the carriage

"Thank you for a splendid evening, Mr. Frye. I shall be sure to speak highly of you to Dizzy. Oh, yes." Was the last thing she said as she walked into her residence. With that all done and dusted, I walked into the night of London, disappearing from any wondering eyes as the shadows enveloped my body, and made my way back to the train to call it a night.