To Deceive A Duke

Chapter 19

Clarissa tucks her messy brown hair into the collar of her wax coat and straightens the borrowed flat cap in Florence's small mirror. The hat casts a shadow over her soft face, hiding her feminine features. She winces at the dark circles under her eyes, they look haunted and broken. She has discarded her clothes from last night and now wears a wide pair of trousers and a comfy wool jumper under her coat. Florence offered to lend her one of her dresses but Clarissa knows she can't risk being caught dressed as whore, so Florence has given her some of Jack's forgotten wardrobe. Last night Flo put screwed up old newspaper in her drenched boots and therefore this morning they are damp but dry enough for Clarissa to wear them.

"Will I see you later?" Florence asks from the sofa, her feet tucked under her and a steaming mug clutched in her hands.

"Maybe. I am going to give everyone today to mourn and recover, but I will probably have to speak to Peter this afternoon," Clarissa says, rotating her stiff neck. The few hours on the old sofa have taken effect on her muscles. A hot bath is very much in order.

There's a frantic knock on the door and the two girls stiffen. Clarissa slowly retrieves the pistol from her coat pocket. She doesn't know whether it's dried and functional, but it's better than nothing. She edges closer to the door, and Flo ducks against the back of the sofa, ready to dive on the floor if necessary. They hold their breath, listening and waiting.

"Florence????" Peter's urgent voice comes from the other side of the door. Clarissa immediately unlocks the door and opens it. Peter's face instantly fills with relief when he sees her, but then he grows angry.

"Where the fuck have you been?" He demands. He marches into the front room, followed by a silent Jack. Both look tired and irritated. Florence lights up when she sees The S Guard, but when he doesn't return her smile, her face falls and she pouts slightly.

"Please come in," Clarissa says sarcastically, closing the door. Peter shakes his head at her, his rage rolling off him in thick waves. He points a finger at her threateningly.

"No one knew where you were and the last person who saw you said you were sitting by the river and I thought...I thought..."

"Fine, I am sorry," Clarissa says quickly, "I spent the night here, I was going to come to see you this afternoon after I've washed this stink off me." Despite the change of clothes the burnt smell is still stuck on her. Peter glowers at her, she tries to read his face but all she can see is frustration.

"Do you know who it was?" Florence asks Peter, distracting him from glaring at his goddaughter. Clarissa freezes, her limbs taught. He looks at her bitter face.

"If I say it was Cavendish will you kill him?"

She rolls her eyes, tension leaving her body, "So it wasn't him then? How disappointing."

"Baines and Lestrade played a good game with us." He admits, a hint of respect in his tone, "There was no reason to suspect that they would do this."

Clarissa purses her lips, "Do you think they planned this before last night or....?" She trails off.

"The foundation for the fires were too well constructed to be a spur of the moment plan," Jack informs them, rubbing his chin, "And we found a rat."

Clarissa whips her head to stare at him, her eyes wide and breathing heightened, "Who.....?"

Jack looks to Peter for support and the older man nods, "She needs to know,"

"It was a guard called Rupert Topson, he's currently locked in one of the rooms in the Prince Hotel." Jack tells her, "We have him under around the clock watch until you want to deal with him."