It was October...

Chapter 18: A humble brag goes wrong

Annabelle moved the globe over to their chairs so they could investigate more closely.
"Here, there's one on London... and on Toronto..." she pointed out "Hm, let's see where there are others."
She slowly began turning the globe and each of them pointed out new stars as they came upon them.
In the end they had 13, Toronto, Boston, London, Prague, Rome, Budapest, Istanbul, Cairo, Memphis, Isphahan, Mumbay, Singapore, and Manaos.
"What might these stars mean?" Gaunt asked "Surely your uncle has traveled to more places and wouldn't have felt the need for a clue chase to find this?"
Annabelle shook her head.
"No, uncle Roylan would always tell us stories of where he had been, I remember him talking of all of these places and many more..." she looked at the globe, slowly turning it lost in thought.
"Hang on a moment!" Gaunt jerked forward "I think I might have seen something..."
He slowly turned the globe back in the other direction.
"By George...! Miss McAllister, look at this!"
Annabelle craned her neck to see the area he was pointing out and almost fell off her chair in surprise.
There, hidden in the ornate writing on the globe's oceans, was Roylan's own calligraphy.

C. Hoare
Hippocampus

"Huh..." 
"Does any of that mean anything to you?"
"Well, hippocampus is a seahorse..." Annabelle mused "But C. Hoare. I have no idea."
"Why seahorse, though?"
"It was my uncle's favourite animal. He could talk about them for hours" she said with a fond smile.
Gaunt chuckled.
"I can imagine you as a child, sitting at your uncle's feet with your siblings and cousins while he  recounts tales of his adventures and reveals little gifts and trinkets he brought back from his travels" he smiled.
"You are surprisingly close to reality" Annabelle confirmed "Over the years most of the others lost interest and turned to more tangible experiences, but I would always listen to his newest exploits and sometimes hair raising escapades" she reminisced "Once he actually brought me back a seahorse, dried to preserve it..."
Gaunt smiled softly.
His face bathed in the warm glow from the gas lamps looked peaceful and a little melancholy. The gentle shadows highlighting his cheekbones and sharply defined jaw and causing his already dark hair to appear almost black.
He turned and caught her gaze.
"I...er" he cleared his throat "I had better return to my lodgings, Miss McAllister" his words contrasted sharply with the mood of the room. She swallowed.
"Yes, of course. I will ask Winston to find you a cab" she said and got up to inform the butler.

When Annabelle opened her eyes the next morning she found the same gloomy November light seeping through a crack in the curtains as the five days before.
She decided not to move for another moment, going over the previous evening in her head.
The globe and the words on it...
She was sure there was more to them, but was fully unable to put anything together yet.
'C. Hoare, Hippocampus... Who is this C. Hoare, and what is the connection with seahorses...' it was no use and with a huff she swept the covers back to get out of bed.
She chose not to get fully dressed and just slipped into a loose morning gown, additionally doing a banjan against the morning chill.

"Good morning Winston" she chirped as she strode into the dining room.
"And a very fine morning to you Madam" the butler said as he bowed with a little flourish before assisting her with her chair.
As was her custom she took coffee with her jam on toast while reading the morning newspaper when Winston walked over and held out a sealed envelope to her on a small silver tray.
"And what might this be?"
"It was delivered early this morning, Madam, I believe it is from Mr. Gaunt" a smile twitched over the butler's face as she took the letter off the tray.
Annabelle broke the seal.

Dearest Miss McAllister,
I must thank you again for you hospitality and the pleasure of your company last night.
But I fear I am as dismal a guest as you are an admirable hostess, for I feel I may have slighted you upon taking my leave.
Will you do me the honour of meeting me at the Café de l'Europe today for lunch at one o'clock?
This hopeless fool would be forever in your debt.

Yours faithfully
William H. Gaunt

Annabelle read and re-read the letter, warmth spreading through her insides.
Gaunt had crossed out and obliterated something before he had written 'fool' and she resolved to ask him about it.
She called for Winston. She would not need Mrs. Mordeaunt to prepare lunch today.

After spending the morning sorting through the books that were already thoroughly examined and replacing them on the shelves to gain at least a modicum of tidiness in her uncle's old study Annabelle returned to her rooms at 11:30. She wasn't certain how long it would take to get from Portman Square to the Haymarket, so she wanted to calculate time more generously than she would ordinarily have.
She slipped out of her morning clothes and selected a new pair of combinations and stockings out of her stash and slipped into them and a pair of elegant but comfortable boots, before picking out and lacing up her favourite corset. She washed her face in the bowl on her dresser and pulled out a frilly corset cover along with a lacy shirtwaist. She stood in front of her wardrobe, agonizing over which ensemble to chose while she was fastening her buttons.
She finally selected a deep blue walking skirt with subtle golden striping along the hem and a matching jacket. She pulled up her chestnut hair and artfully pinned it in place before finishing off with an elegant hat that fit the colour scheme of her clothing.
She assembled the personal effects she would be taking, which along with her purse and gloves to match her clothing now included her small derringer, and on an impulse dabbed some of her rose perfume behind her ears.

She came down the stairs into the hall at five minutes past 12.
Winston was waiting for her.
"If I may, Madam, you look particularly lovely today" he remarked as she donned her Kersey jacket against the November chill.
"Why thank you my good Winston. I do hope that for a change my clothing will remain fully intact by the time I return" she said jokingly.
A pained expression passed over the butler's face.
"Oh no, don't! Any ill fortune I may have encountered is none of your fault, Winston" she hastened to reassure him.
"Nonetheless, Madam, it is my duty to ensure your safety and comfort, and I have failed repeatedly" he said looking at the floor.
Annabelle felt a surge of affection for the butler.
"Winston, without your intervention Mr. Cole and Mrs. Mordeaunt my have met a very unpleasant end and I may have done goodness knows what when I was under that mind-control spell" she reminded him "I believe under the circumstances you are doing an excellent job!"
"You are too kind, Madam" a small smile passed over his face "But there is a hansom waiting outside to take you to your engagement at the Café de l'Europe" he reminded her.
"Thank you Winston. I promise I will be back unscathed" she said.
His eyes crinkled as he opened the door for her.
"I may take the liberty to remind you of this" he winked.
She smiled and headed towards the waiting carriage.

The Hay Market was full of bustling energy and small and large theaters, cafes and taverns.
The driver pulled up at the Café de l'Europe and she paid the fare plus a penny, as always.
As she stepped out of the carriage she spotted William Gaunt striding towards her as best his healing leg would allow from where he had been standing a little way off.
He took off his hat and bowed over her hand.
"Miss McAllister, you honour me" he said "I must confess I was not certain you would come" he admitted.
"How could I have declined an invitation such as yours?" she asked with a curtsy.
He offered her his arm as they started moving towards the entrance.
The concierge took his reservation and lead them to a semi private table by one of the windows and left them each with a menu.
A moment later a waiter appeared.
"Good afternoon, Sir, Madam, may I take your orders?"
They both ordered the catch of the day - halibut - and an Italian vintage to accompany it.
After the waiter had left them with filled glasses and a cooler with their bottle of wine Annabelle turned to Gaunt.
"So, Mr. Gaunt, to what do I owe this extraordinary luncheon and the dear message you sent this morning?" she asked.
"Well, uh..." a shade of pink started creeping into his ears again "I, uh..." he sighed.
"Miss McAllister, you may have noticed that I am not the most accomplished man when it comes to social interactions. This has many reasons and I believe we may delve into them in due time, but..." he hesitated, an agonized look on his face "I have developed considerable affection for you, Miss McAllister. You are very unlike any woman I have ever known, I admire your spirit and you vivacity, you have a brilliant and inquisitive mind and... and... It would make me indescribably happy if you would be open to developing a closer relationship..." he finished a little breathlessly, his ears a worrying shade of red.
The waiter chose that exact moment to appear with their orders.
After they had received their food it was Annabelle's turn to be flustered.
"My dear Mr. Gaunt, never have I been complimented quite so extensively or fervently" she felt her cheeks glowing "I confess that I have found myself cherishing the time we spend together, but please, before we continue: what word did you obliterate in the letter you sent me?"
Gaunt seemed to deflate just a little bit and mumbled "Romantic" more to his halibut than to her.
Annabelle beamed.
"Well, if we want to develop a closer relationship a good first step would be addressing one another by our first names, no?"
Gaunt looked up at her with a combination of relief and disbelief.
"Please, call me Annabelle" she said.
"And will you please call me William" he gave back.
"It would be my pleasure" she smiled.

They chatted at length, if somewhat nervously over lunch. The fish was excellent, as was the wine, and by the time they had finished dessert they were both a little more relaxed.
They decided to take some air at the nearby St. James's Park, and Mr. Gaunt, William, settled the bill before they were accompanied to the door, which the concierge held open for them.

As they entered St. James's Park the bustle of the city seemed to die away immediately.
The weather had surprisingly improved and rays of milky light were washing over the bare trees.
They walked along slowly, paying mind to William's still healing leg.
"How much longer do you think it will take for you to recover?" Annabelle asked.
"I have an appointment with the physician the day after tomorrow, but I believe another couple of weeks should do the trick" he said confidently "I have been going short distances at home and at the museum unassisted in order to strengthen the muscle. It might not be pleasant, but it doesn't seem to be doing any harm."
Before Annabelle could respond there was a disturbance from the trees. 
They stopped and watched none other than Samuel Wright, the private investigator, emerge from the bushes.
"Well well well, what a surprise!" he exclaimed and sauntered towards them with a half smirk on his lips.
He was wearing respectable, if somewhat threadbare clothing and his shoes were covered in mud.
"Mr. Wright, what an unexpected surprise indeed" Annabelle replied.
"Likewise" William added.
"I would not have expected to see either of you out and about, much less after your latest adventure, Miss McAllister" Wright probed.
"Well I suppose the November weather generally isn't very conducive for outdoor activities, but one must seize the chance when it presents itself" Annabelle blankly ignored his dig.
"Indeed" he replied, mustering her up and down.
"And what brings you over here? Another investigation?" William interjected.
"I'm afraid so" Wright rolled his shoulders back "I was speaking with one of  my neighbor's visitors, who had questioned me about the nature of my work. As you may understand I deal with many delicate matters which I can't freely divulge so I resorted to telling them that I specialize in lost pets and had my fair share of successes in returning lost cats..." he cleared his throat "Unfortunately for me the lady pounced on this piece of information like one of the aforementioned on a mouse and all but strong-armed me into looking for her lost Persian, who goes by the name of Sir Lancelot..." the long-suffering look on his face lead them to believe his search had as of yet been unsuccessful.
"Dear me, well we had better not keep you from your mission, Mr. Wright" Annabelle chirped "And I believe we had better get along too, it seems the weather might be changing its mind soon..."
"Of course" Wright gave a slight bow and they parted ways.
Annabelle chuckled.
"What is it?"
"Oh, I believe it may do him good to be faced with a case he can't solve" she declared.
"I can't disagree" William snickered as the made their way back to the road to fine a cab.