A Fiery Dalliance

XXVIII

"My lying is a second skin by now, so easy to forget it's there, so I don't always remember that lying is actually an art, and those who aren't meticulous about it are easily exposed." Jillian Cantor, Margot

---- 

XXVIII.

Joe dressed quickly, and by dressed it meant that he had shoved his legs into a pair of breeches and boots and was running back down the hallway trying to force his flailing arms into his coat with an untied cravat flapping about his neck.

He was nowhere near as quiet as Ed had been and Joe knew that he was at risk of alerting the house that he was up and about and was in fact leaving, but he did not care. There was something grievously wrong and Joe wouldn't leave his brother to fend for himself.

The way Ed had reminded Joe that he loved him was haunting and frightening, and it made Joe think of all the times that his brother had said such things. Ed often told Joe that he loved him with concern and anxiety about his tone, as though he needed Joe to know that he loved him above all. It sparked three dozen questions and Joe could not force his legs to move quickly enough while simultaneously chastising himself for not tackling Ed to the ground five minutes earlier.

When Joe made it outside onto the street which was illuminated by the soft flames in the flickering streetlamps, he immediately spied Ed walking around the corner onto one of the main Mayfair streets. His head was down as he marched with purpose.

There were no hackney carriages about at this time of night, nor had he woken any of Ashwood's servants to have a carriage brought around for him. Wherever he was going, Ed planned on travelling alone.

Joe continued to follow Ed as carefully as he could, making no effort to call out to his brother lest Ed be frightened off. Joe was worried. This behaviour was concerning, and Joe needed to know if Ed was in trouble. Ed was always the one determined to fix Joe's problems and to protect Joe from their father. Ed never, not once, asked for anything in return. But that did not mean that he did not need help.

Ed left the residential streets of Mayfair and their grand houses and journeyed to a livelier part of town about a mile from Ashwood Place. The public houses were all lit up and people, drunk men, spilled out of them onto the streets reeking of ale. Scantily dressed women gathered in groups of three or four, and as Joe passed them, they called out to him with their prices. Joe couldn't even muster a polite decline as he continued to follow Ed, who expertly weaved his way through the busier street.

And then he disappeared.

Joe's heart stopped as he broke into a run, sprinting towards the place he had last seen Ed. Had someone grabbed him? Had he been abducted? The worst flashed through Joe's mind as he realised that he had come to a narrow alleyway that diverted away from the main street. It was dark and oppressive, and the buildings either side of it looked like they leaned over towards one another, almost touching at dormers on the third floors.

But the alleyway was where Ed had disappeared to, and Joe made it just in time so see Ed knock three times on a door and be received inside. When the door had opened, the alleyway had been lit briefly, and the sound of music from within spilled outside. And as quickly as the door had been opened, Ed disappeared inside, and the door was shut behind him.

What in the world was going on? What was this place? Was it a tavern? Why on earth would Ed sneak out in the middle of the night to visit a tavern? They had only been sipping very expensive whiskey at White's a few hours earlier. Joe was certain that if Ed had wished to continue drinking, or ... or perhaps if he wished to secure the company of a lady for the evening, their father would have happily facilitated him.