Chapter Text
“Elizabeth.”
“Aunt Rachel,” Lizzy acknowledged, standing up and curtsying. Her voice was solemn as she observed her beautiful aunt carefully. Rachel had dark circles under her eyes, the pallor of her skin frighteningly contrasting with the drab midnight blue shade of her clothing. Her aunt’s dreary garb reflected her grim mood.
Carefully, Lizzy approached the woman, gently setting a hand on her aunt’s shoulder. Inwardly, she thanked herself for acquiescing to Nina’s demands of wearing high heels. Lizzy wasn’t tall enough yet to reach her aunt without the additional inch her shoes provided her. “Are you alright?”
“I’ve been better,” Rachel admitted, sinking into the seat Lizzy previously occupied. “It’s just so...so frightening , the recent murders going around. Vincent’s been investigating them closely, but he hasn’t been able to find any leads, yet. He keeps assuring me that the murderer has been killing women so far, but I have an ominous feeling about this whole mess.”
“Everything will be fine,” Lizzy reassured her. “You know Uncle Vincent. He can detect poison just by sight and senses danger at the drop of a hat. He’ll catch Jack the Ripper before you know it.”
“I know, but there’s just something about this case,” Rachel said hopelessly, then she paused and sent her niece a suspicious glare. “Elizabeth...you seem awfully calm about this. Usually you’re bouncing all over the place asking Vincent to help.”
Lizzy froze, the smile on her face twitching.
Act cool, smile innocently, relax your shoulders...
“I don’t know what exactly you’re insinuating, Aunt Rachel, but I assure you that I’m not interfering with Uncle Vincent’s investigations,” Lizzy recovered smoothly.
Rachel caught on quickly, as expected of the wife of the Queen’s Watchdog. “But are you conducting additional investigations?”
Lizzy remained silent.
“Elizabeth,” Rachel sighed, standing and wrapping her arms around her niece to pull her in for an embrace. Caressing Lizzy’s golden locks, she said gently, “You know, I consider you as practically my own daughter. I know that Vincent and Francis have been training you to inherit his role, but you don’t understand, darling. I would’ve preferred you not be involved in this business at all. It’s not something that somebody like you should deal with, but it’s not in my place to decide your future...”
“It’s like you said, Aunt Rachel,” Lizzy pointed out, determined. Aunt Rachel withdrew her embrace, although she still clutched onto Lizzy’s arms like a lifeline. “I’ve been training my entire life for this. I’m willing, and I’m able. As a female, there are places that Uncle Vincent can’t investigate that I can. You’ve seen me in the fencing halls.”
“Real life isn’t the same as fencing, Lizzy.” Although the usage of her nickname stirred some affection within the blonde, Lizzy was too focused on the matter at hand to care. “You’re thirteen, Lizzy,” Rachel said desperately, her grip on Lizzy’s arm tightening. “Don’t you see? You should be dancing and squealing over boys, not learning how to kill a man.”
Rachel, unlike her strict mother and expectant uncle, had always treated Lizzy like the young girl she was. Her kind and amiable nature usually warmed her heart, but also was a hard obstacle to overcome when it came to being treated as an adult. Despite her age, Lizzy wasn’t like the other thirteen year old girls her age; she was a warrior , born and bred to fight and advance.
The only other relative who treated her as delicately as Rachel was Aunt Anne, Aunt Rachel’s sister. Lizzy hadn’t seen her beloved red-clad aunt for a couple of months, but in her last visit, “Madame Red” still acted just as indulgent and easygoing as she did in the past.
Neither of the two women truly understood the rigors of baring the Phantomhive name - or, at least being trained to hold the Phantomhive name one day. In their eyes, they still saw little Lizzy, the blonde girl with the ridiculous curls in her hair that continuously asked if she could have a cousin to play with. That little girl was gone; Lizzy had buried her once the results of Rachel’s barrenness had come to light and her mother informed her that she would have to take up the mantle of the Phantomhive household once Uncle Vincent was unable.
Little Lizzy had protested, she remembered. She wanted to be girly , to fall in love and learn how to sew and cook for a husband rather than learn the quickest ways to incapacitate a man. Then her mother had taken her aside.
“Lizzy,” Francis had said, her eyes unusually soft as she hugged her tiny, frail daughter. “The tasks you must do as the Queen’s Watchdog will be hard. It will be rough, and you will sometimes wish for a better fate. I could tell you many things to convince you; the job of a Watchdog is necessary to ensure peace, you would be protecting the citizens of England, you are doing us all an honor. But none of those are what I want you to know. You, Lizzy, are strong. And there’s no other woman I’d rather have taking over the Phantomhive household than my other herself. And Claudia Phantomhive…”
“...was a strong warrior,” little Lizzy had finished instinctively, eyes sparkling with a naive hope. “Mama, why can’t Edward do it? He’s strong too.”
“Edward...his duty is to maintain the Midford line. And although your brother is extremely talented for his age, I’m not sure he’ll be able to...handle things well, especially on his own.”
Little Lizzy had nodded her head in understanding. Her big brother was too kind, too pure, too gentle . He would undoubtedly accept the position if it meant protecting his sister, but...maybe this way, Lizzy could protect her big brother too. “Then I’ll be the Queen’s Watchdog, ” she decided, “for Edward’s sake!”
Francis had given her a sad, small smile. “You, my dear, are much too selfless. But you will not be alone; this I promise you. You’ll never be alone, Elizabeth.”
“Aunt Rachel, I’ve been raised by two of the most skilled fencers in England. I’ve learned fencing and espionage from my mother, and coding and shooting from my father,” Lizzy stated, steadfast. Her emerald green eyes were trained firmly on her aunt’s. “I’ve learned how to discern concealed weapons in seconds and how to incapacitate a grown man without making a sound. Giggling over boys isn’t quite that appealing to me, anymore.”
She added more wryly, “Besides, by now I find that dancing without weapons is dreadfully dull.”
Rachel’s lips turned upwards at that, despite the somber topic. “You’ve always made swordplay look like such an art form,” she said ruefully, squeezing Lizzy’s arm playfully. Unconsciously, a weight lifted off Lizzy’s shoulders; this was her aunt’s way of expressing her (reluctant) consent. The atmosphere now jovial, she found her eyes dancing with mirth.
“It is an art,” Lizzy insisted feverently, a smile tugging on her own lips. “It’s not my fault that some people fight so boorishly. It’s quite pitiful to see how the number of young fencers nowadays is dwindling. It’s been ages since I’ve properly dueled with anybody proficient around my age.”
“You know,” Rachel said thoughtfully, “Your fiance was quite a talented fencer before Her Majesty started having him do all those tasks.”
Lizzy blinked in astonishment, struggling to recollect any memories of aforementioned fiance. She couldn’t even picture his face, as sad as it sounded. However, faintly, she recalled that there had been an incident where she and her fiance had gotten separated from the adults for nearly a day. It had been too long ago for her to remember completely, but Lizzy had a feeling that the incident had to do with All Hallow’s Eve. She pursed her lips, annoyed that she couldn’t recall the incident completely. Instead of dwelling on the memory, she instead rose an eyebrow at her aunt (a gesture that surely would have horrified her mother, had Francis been present). “Earl Grey, a fencer?”
“You loved dueling with him when you were younger. You don’t remember?” Rachel asked, slightly surprised. “He’s only a few years older than you, Lizzy. You two used to sneak out to the fencing halls all the time.”
Ah, now she remembered.
Earl Charles Grey had silver-coloured hair, as luxurious and well-maintained as the fancy Midford silverware Lizzy had been so fascinated with in her youth. Unlike the masculinity-obsessed men of the upper class, her fiance had always opted to keep his hair at least chin-length. And his eyes...Lizzy was fairly certain that her fiance’s eyes also had been silver, the color that she had so envied in the past.
But there was more to him than just his looks; she now recalled the many duels they’d held in the past. Although Lizzy had been born with natural talent in the art of fencing, her mother ensured that she constantly honed the skill. She’d wiped out plenty of older men by the time she was five, but Earl Grey had proven quite the challenge.
She won every duel, to her fiance’s consternation (now, she could picture his scowl: Earl Grey always sulked after his defeats), but she still remembered the rush of elation Lizzy felt when she realized that Earl Grey could keep up with her and keep her on her toes. Francis had always been too out of her league, and the others didn't prove much of a challenge. But Earl Grey had always been her best opponent because Lizzy knew that if she made one mistake, she’d lose. He pushed her to fence flawlessly.
Rachel must have read her expression, for her aunt simply smiled and pet Lizzy on the head. “I suppose my words inspired a memory?”
“Several, in fact,” Lizzy answered, laughing and shaking her head in an attempt to dispel the memories. “But anyways, Aunt Rachel, why are you here? I didn’t hear anything about your arrival, otherwise I would’ve been at the foyer greeting you as I arrived.”
“Vincent had some private matters to discuss with your mother, and he figured that it would be easier to come unannounced to stir less of a fuss,” Rachel explained wryly. Compared to earlier, the woman looked much better, her face no longer the pale, frightened shade of before. Instead, there was a sparkle in the woman’s eyes that resembled the vivacity of her aunt in Lizzy’s youth. Once, Edward had let it slip that their aunt had become much more reserved once she found out that she couldn’t have children, and that was why the beautiful woman became withdrawn by the time Lizzy turned four.
Lizzy perked up. “Oh? Would this have to do with the case?”
“You know already that Vincent tries to keep me away from mostly everything,” Rachel sighed, standing up and giving her niece a sad smile. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything. But I’m sure you could try and wring something out of your uncle right now. I believe I should go greet your brother, anyways. Where is Edward?”
“Probably in his room writing a letter to one of his friends,” Lizzy gestured towards her general right and explained, “He’s been keeping a daily correspondence with one of the sons of a duke after he learned that they would be attending Weston College.”
Rachel looked slightly amused. “I see.”
Lizzy’s manners, drilled in her since birth, kicked in. “Pardon me, Aunt Rachel, but I can escort you there,” she offered.
“There’s no need,” Rachel dismissed, “I can see you’re already itching to go and barge in on your mother and uncle’s conversation. Go on.”
Slightly embarrassed, Lizzy curtsied. Then, a bright grin on her face, she blurted out, “ ThanksAuntieIloveyoubye !” before rushing out the door.
“Mother! Uncle Vincent!” Lizzy slammed open the doors to the study, ready to beg the two Phantomhives to allow her to assist in investigating the latest case. Dramatically, she flipped her hair and declared, “I want to be on the Jack the Ripper case!”
... oooor , that’s how it would have gone if Lizzy’s state of utter elation had not been interrupted.
Instead, she bumped into someone. “Who...oh, Paula!” Lizzy beamed at her attendant. “Did you have a nice vacation?”
“I did, thank you for asking, my Lady,” Paula responded politely, returning her charge’s beam with one of her own. She folded her hands and curtsied, her face illuminated with relief. “It’s so nice to see you looking cheerful, Lady Elizabeth. I was afraid to leave you when you were looking so dreary.”
“I was a bit bored before, but that’s all resolved now,” Lizzy corrected, folding her arms over her chest. Paula immediately looked suspicious, but Lizzy barrelled on, “Unfortunately, right now I need to go talk to my mother. It’ll only take up to an hour or so, so feel free to refresh yourself, Paula. It looks as if you rushed over here as soon as your vacation was over; please take care of yourself.”
“As always, my Lady is too kind,” Paula replied ruefully, shaking her head. “But what exactly must you talk about with your mother?”
“I’ll tell you if it works out!” Lizzy beamed at her servant once more, then rushed past her before the brown haired woman could stop her. “Bye, Paula!”
Her footsteps pounded down the hallway. Then, abruptly, Lizzy realized how much noise she was making and immediately flushed. She put her mother’s training to good use, quieting the sound of her footsteps by stepping toe-first. Slowly, her passionate gallop slowed into careful, poised strides. Lizzy passed by several servants in the hallways, sending each of them a smile and a tiny bow of acknowledgment before hurrying on.
Finally, she stood before the door the study. Faintly, she could hear the voices of her mother and uncle.
“—too sudden, Vincent.”
“The Queen’s been meaning for the two to work together for awhile now, dear sister. They’ll just be assisting me in my investigation for now. You know I wouldn’t put Lizzy in harm’s way.”
“Not intentionally, but I know us Phantomhives well enough. You can’t always watch after her, Vincent, and she’s not ready yet.”
“Exactly. You can’t always take care of her either, Francis. Sooner or later, Lizzy will stumble upon something and you know it. It’s better if we guide her now then something unexpected happen in the near future without her having any experience. I can’t always be around, Francis. They almost killed Rachel and I before…”
Lizzy figured she should probably back away and try talking to the two another time, considering the rather serious nature of their conversation. But, before she could, the doors swung open.
“And what do we have here?” Uncle Vincent rose an eyebrow, trying his best to look infuriated as Lizzy’s mother standing beside him. The smirk on his face belied his amusement at the situation. Uncle Vincent was undoubtedly a handsome man: his sharp features, much like her mother’s, accentuated his well-kept black-hair and poised stature. He was undoubtedly in his “Watchdog mode”, as Lizzy had dubbed it.
Although Vincent was an extremely courteous and kind man both publically and privately, when discussing serious business, he acted much more confident and almost disarmingly manipulative. Vincent rarely exposed her to such a side, but Lizzy supposed this was one of those rare times.
“Good afternoon Uncle, Mother,” Lizzy greeted nervously, curtsying for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past day. “Aunt Rachel stopped by and told me that you two were talking.”
The two Phantomhive siblings exchanged looks, mentally communicating something that Lizzy couldn’t quite grasp. She was sort of envious: Edward and her still had a long way to go before they could even come close to the mutual understanding that her mother and uncle had. “Lizzy,” her mother stepped forward, addressing her. Her eyebrows were slightly wrinkled, an indicator that Francis was a bit stressed out. Francis noticed Lizzy’s scrutinizing, immediately clearing her expression of any signs of anxiety or concern. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop; it’s not proper.”
“Now, now, Francis. Lizzy was just a little curious...” Vincent winced as her mother jabbed him in the arm with her elbow.
“Stay out of this!” Her mother barked before turning back to her. “I taught you better than this.”
“Mother, I couldn’t help but overhear what you and Uncle Vincent were talking about,” Lizzy said rather impatiently. “I would like to help Uncle Vincent with his investigations. I understand that I’m not skilled enough to take over completely, but I would rather start gathering experience early with Uncle Vincent’s guidance.”
The two adults paused, staring at her as if they’d never seen her before. Lizzy shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, but refused to avert her eyes. Looking away would be a show of weakness that she couldn’t afford right now. Finally, the tense atmosphere was broken when her mother spoke up.
“I knew I never should’ve taught you all of this nonsense. You’re too headstrong,” Francis grumbled.
“Just like her mother,” Uncle Vincent muttered under his breath just low enough that only Lizzy could hear him. Then, he smiled at Lizzy. “In Francis-speak, I believe that’s a ‘fine, as long as you don’t get killed’. If you’re willing, Lizzy, you may help me with my latest investigation.”
“Oh yes, please!” Lizzy breathed, wringing her hands nervously. This was the moment she had been training for her entire life. Lizzy had dreamed and dreamed of the day when she could begin helping Uncle Vincent. It was a rather funny thing for a lady of her stature to dream about, but it was certainly more practical than dreaming of marriage. (Of course, Lizzy did have such dreams tucked somewhere in the back of her mind, but Watchdog duties definitely took priority over romance.) “I’d love to!”
Lizzy could imagine the case already. She’d discover a hidden clue, then confront the suspect in a one-on-one battle. Then, of course, she’d triumph and arrest the villain, leaving them for Scotland Yard to bring into custody. She’d never be revered by the public, of course, but Lizzy could take private satisfaction in the fact that she was a heroine living in the shadows. Those epic novels of adventure and cunning were certainly more thrilling than the repetitive romance novels.
“This isn’t a game, Elizabeth,” her mother’s voice cut through her thoughts disapprovingly. It was as if the woman had read her mind. “Or a novel. The duties we have as Phantomhives are extremely taxing and dangerous, and they are not something you can take lightly.”
“I know, Mother.”
“Give the girl a little time to celebrate, Francis,” Vincent pointed out, slinging an arm casually over her mother’s stiffening shoulders. “...besides, I’d rather her act this cheerful rather than how I acted when Mother gave me my first mission.”
“Elizabeth doesn’t understand the severity of our missions, Vincent,” Francis hissed. “This girl—”
“—Mother was a girl, and she made a fine Watchdog—”
“—Claudia Phantomhive was an amazing woman who I can only hope to measure up to someday,” Francis said shortly, her eyes flickering with some kind of undeterminable, passionate emotion. “Mother and Lizzy are different people, Vincent. No matter how proficient Lizzy is with the sword for her age, she’s still a thirteen-years-old girl. You’d never let a child of yours take over at such a young age, would you?”
Immediately, the air cooled about twenty degrees.
Francis realized her mistake immediately, her face twisting with something that resembled regret. “Vincent, I—”
“It’s fine, Francis,” Vincent said tightly. “It’s fine. And you’re right: I never would have let any child of mine dabble in Watchdog business at such a young age on his or her own. But I would have advised them, especially if they had the talent that Lizzy does.”
There was silence once more. “Fine,” Francis said shortly. “But only if the boy accompanies her.”
Lizzy turned to her mother questioningly. “Boy? What boy? Do you mean Edward?”
It was Vincent’s turn to look surprised. “You mean Rachel hasn’t told you already?”
“No…” Lizzy said slowly. “Is it somebody I know?”
“We are talking about your fiance, Elizabeth,” Francis explained shortly. “Your fiance, Earl Charles Grey.”
Earl Charles Grey didn’t look much different from the sullen boy in Lizzy’s memories. His hair and eyes were still that envious shade of silver, and a sheathed sword hung to his side. Her fiance’s hair was even still chin-length, although there was a defiant part of his hair that extended past his shoulders.
But that was where the similarities between him and his past self stopped.
Unlike the boy from Lizzy’s memories, Charles Grey held himself in a much more confident manner. Although he was leaning back lazily into his seat, his shoulders remained firm and broad, unlike the hunched slouch of his youth. An amused half-smirk played on his face, and his eyes danced with some sort of mirth that Lizzy couldn’t quite comprehend; a stark contrast from the perpetual scowl she remembered from their youth.
“It’s been a long time, Lady Midford,” he acknowledged, not bothering to stand up and kiss her hand. Instead, he extended his hand from across the table decked with plates of confections and other goodies. Lizzy stared at the gesture, stupefied for a second, before taking his hand delicately and shaking it.
“So it has,” she replied noncommittally, choosing to not address the rather brazen, American-like gesture. “And please, do call me Lizzy. Lady Midford is my mother.”
“Lady Liz it is,” her fiance decided after a few moments of contemplation. Lizzy’s eyebrow twitched. Her fiance’s brusque nature was somewhat offputting.
In an attempt to remain cordial, Lizzy asked, “And might I refer to you as Charles?”
Charles Grey drew back, looking aghast at the title. “Nah, Charles suits my partner more. All boring and stuffy, that Phipps. Just call me Grey.”
“Earl Grey, then,” Lizzy agreed, reminding herself to maintain her wobbly, strained smile.
“Maa, how boring,” he drawled, fiddling with the saber by his side absentmindedly.
Lizzy’s eyebrow twitched again.
“It’s not like I don’t enjoy your company or anything, dear fiance ,” Earl Grey started, crossing his arms over his chest. Something about the way he emphasized ‘fiance’ rubbed her the wrong way. He continued without notice of her discomfort. “But all Her Majesty informed me was that I should be at the Midford manor today at noontime. Care to share?”
“I suppose you’ll find out soon enough,” Lizzy answered, pursing her lips. She knew that her fiance had been working under the Queen for some while now, but that didn’t excuse his lackadaisical manner of talking. Was this person really the stubborn, hardworking boy from her youth? “For here come my uncle and mother now.”
And in entered her mother and uncle. Both of them cut rather impressive figures, sweeping into the room confidently without glancing at either of them. Lizzy stood up, curtsying silently at her relatives. “Earl Grey,” Francis acknowledged, her hard gaze locking on the silver-haired boy sprawled lazily on the couch disapprovingly. Lizzy was amused to see her fiance straighten up slightly.
“Lady Midford, a pleasure to see you,” he said, standing up and bowing politely. Lizzy’s eyebrow twitched again. “I was just catching up with my fiance over here. Lady Elizabeth was just explaining to me that we had something to discuss?” Then, a little more stiffly, he bowed at Vincent. “Earl Phantomhive.”
Vincent returned the greeting with a bow of his own, then his face shifted into a serious one. “Yes, we have plenty to discuss. Please, sit down.”
To Lizzy’s discomfort, she found herself sitting beside Earl Grey on the velvet red couch. Her uncle and mother had taken the two single-person seats, forcing the two to sit next to each other. Lizzy adjusted her dress to ensure that it didn’t skirt above her knees as she sat down, highly aware of Earl Grey’s presence beside her.
“As you two already know, the Queen has been tasking the Head of the Phantomhive with various missions for multiple generations. We’ve commonly been referred to as the ‘Queen’s Watchdog’, and although that title may sound derogatory, do not be ashamed of it. We are upholding the throne and bringing peace and stability to England, and sometimes one must dirty their hands in order to do so,” Vincent explained. “You will undoubtedly hear whispers. People might be afraid of you, or people might revere you. Whatever the case, we must fulfill our duty to the Queen and to England, regardless of how our reputations might suffer.”
“Wait, wait. Hold up. Are you saying that Lady Liz—” Here, Earl Grey gestured disbelievingly at Lizzy. “—and I are going to be taking over Watchdog activities now ? I thought it started after she turned eighteen.” ‘ When we would get married’ was left unsaid.
Now, Francis was the one explaining. “My brother and I have decided that it is prudent for the two of you to gain experience before then,” she stated solemnly, “You will only be assisting Vincent in his investigations. Her Majesty has already approved and endorsed this arrangement, and she wishes to tell you that you’ll be excused from other duties.”
“This is bullshit.”
None of the other occupants of the room had expected that reaction, judging by their drawn eyebrows and shocked expressions that were quickly masked. Lizzy reminded herself not to laugh. Her mother surely wouldn’t appreciate the gesture.
“Pardon?”
“This is bullshit ,” Charles Grey snarled. “I’m not going to take an absence from my duties when the Queen needs me, especially not to babysit my fiance. I’m needed out there, and I know that you can handle these cases without my help.”
Lizzy bristled, shooting her fiance a venomous glare with vicious anger that she hadn’t even known she had possessed. “ Excuse you ,” she said dangerously. She jabbed a finger at Earl Grey’s chest, not minding the stupefied look that her fiance sent her. “But you will not be babysitting me, thank you very much. I’m quite capable of defending myself, if you still remember all the times I wiped the floor with you in the past. I don’t quite agree with this arrangement either, but Her Majesty has already decided for us. So deal with it. ”
You arse, Lizzy added furiously in her mind.
There was another stunned silence in the room for a moment. Lizzy cringed, waiting for her mother to start berating her.
But, before the woman could, the tension was broken by laughter.
Laughter.
Slowly, Lizzy’s eyes trailed over towards the source of the laughter sitting to her right. Earl Grey’s entire countenance had shifted from his disgruntled state from earlier, his eyes shining with mirth as he laughed and laughed and laughed . Her mother definitely wanted her to apologize, if the sharp glare sent her way was any indication, but Lizzy chose to patiently wait until her fiance’s laughter died down.
“Ahhh, I haven’t laughed like that for awhile,” Earl Grey laughed, wiping a tear out of his eye. Any previous anger in his body had melted away, and Lizzy was left bewildered when he turned his gaze to her. His silver eyes shined with glee. “You’re more entertaining than I thought, dearest fiance.”
“Thank you,” Lizzy said stiffly, unsure of how to respond. “You’re certainly not how I expected you to be, either, Earl Grey.”
“Thanks,” Earl Grey accepted graciously, flipping his hair somewhat arrogantly. Both of the adults looked visibly relieved that the two weren’t fighting anymore. The fact that she could read their body language (they usually were careful enough not to belie their emotions) meant that they were extremely relieved that Lizzy and Earl Grey weren’t at each other’s necks anymore. Was her fiance that essential to her future investigations?
Don’t be silly, Lizzy , she scolded herself inwardly. You don’t have any sort of magical butler to do your dirty work for you. You’ll need Earl Grey’s help in order to fulfil your duties as a Watchdog and you know it.
Vincent cleared his throat. “Well, I’m sure that our latest case will be of some interest to you, Earl Grey. Her Majesty has tasked me with unmasking Jack the Ripper.”
“The serial killer?” Earl Grey asked immediately, his silver eyes sharpening as he leaned forward with interest. Lizzy couldn’t help but watch, captivated, as they took upon a calculative glint. His abrupt change in personality was both jarring and fascinating. “What do you know thus far?”
“About as much as the papers are saying,” Vincent admitted, a frown playing upon his face. “The culprit is somebody with extensive medical knowledge, considering the state of the bodies when discovered. He’s quite meticulous in hiding his tracks. I’ve been consulting various sources in an attempt to narrow down the pool of suspects, but my contacts in the Underworld are at a loss as well.”
Lizzy bit her lip, then asked hesitantly, “Do you have any files you can give us? I’d like to look them over.”
Vincent smiled at her, then called, “Tanaka!”
Both Lizzy and her fiance could hardly disguise their surprise as the elderly servant popped out of seemingly nowhere. “Here, master,” Tanaka offered a vanilla colored folder to her uncle, bowing deeply. Vincent sent his servant a nod of thanks before turning back to them while Tanaka slipped out of the room. Taking the offered folder from Vincent’s hands, Lizzy set it down on the table in front of them and unfolded it carefully as Earl Grey scooted closer to read the papers over her shoulder. (Lizzy tried her hardest not to blush; the indecency of that man!)
“Victims are all lower-class females,” Lizzy read, scanning through the various documents for prudent information. A certain tidbit caught her eye: “Activity seems to be centered around the brothels in Whitechapel.”
Lower class...females...
For some unearthly reason, Lizzy found herself glancing at her fiance. Earl Grey caught the look, and she could tell by the look in his eyes that he was thinking along the same lines as she was. Unfortunately, Francis caught the look, too. “Absolutely not,” her mother said sternly, a tone of finality in her words as she glared at her daughter. “I forbid you to. You’re only supposed to be assisting Vincent, not going out to the field yourself.”
“If I can’t be bait, I can at least try gathering information amongst these women to see if there’s any pattern or clues,” Lizzy reasoned. “Uncle Vincent doesn’t have any other female operatives that can do so.”
“No , Elizabeth. And that’s final.”
“Ah, look at the time!” Vincent said loudly, glancing at the clock. “I think Rachel and I should be going. Come along, Earl Grey, we may leave together.”
Before the boy followed Vincent out of the door, he glanced at Lizzy one last time. The two exchanged glances, a mutual understanding passing between them. Then, the door shut, leaving Lizzy with an irate Francis.
Oh, drat.
Later that night, Lizzy sent one of the Midford servants (with a rather nice incentive of a guinea) with a message addressed to one Earl Charles Grey. The message was coded with several layers, but if deciphered, held nothing too incriminating. Just a simple: I’m attending the Hughes’ family ball. Be there.