All too soon, Ash was ready to leave London on his mysterious assignment. As promised, Bruce arranged for a valet with special talents. The man who arrived on Ash’s doorstep a day later did look the part.
He was perhaps five or so years younger than Ash, and was dressed in practical clothing made of sturdy wool cloth in dull colors—the universal mark of the serving class. He was short, but had such good posture that he looked taller than he was. Stick-straight brown hair was held back in a queue, an old-fashioned look that nevertheless suited him. Light blue eyes darted quickly over Ash and then everything in the room, missing nothing.
“Name’s Crewe, sir,” he announced himself to Ash. “Timothy Crewe, but I’m called Crewe. I’m to be your valet for the journey.”
Ash never enjoyed lying all that much, so he decided to have it all out with the servant immediately. “Sit down, Crewe.” He gestured to a chair by the window.
Crewe sat, managing to make the movement look more like work than relaxation.
Ash said, “I don’t particularly stand on ceremony. If you’re to be my valet, you’ll need to be…adaptable to my circumstances.”
“Yes, sir.”
Those blue eyes looked at him, guileless eyes that didn’t betray a hint of knowledge about Ash’s true goal for this journey.
“Look, Crewe, I understand that this is all confidential. And clandestine. And whatever other c-words you care to add to the list. But I need to be able to talk with you honestly if something comes up. I can’t do that if we’re dancing around who and what you are. If you can’t drop the act in private, I’d rather go alone.”
“Don’t want that, sir,” Crewe said easily. “The Zodiac was quite clear you needed a helping hand. That’s what the Disreputables are for.”
“What?”
“Oh, I’m a Disreputable, sir,” Crewe explained. “Your brother didn’t mention it? It’s the collective name for all the servants and such who assist the Zodiac. So I think I’ll fit in quite well as your valet, you being rather disreputable yourself.”
“So you were told about me?”
“Full details of the assignment and the agent. Not that it took long to learn about the assignment. We don’t know much, do we?”
“We do not,” Ash agreed. “Possibly my brother is just using this so-called assignment as an excuse to get rid of me. Wants me to stumble off a picturesque cliff or something. Is it your job to see that done?”
Crewe shook his head. “My orders are to do everything I can to keep you alive. Your brother was most insistent about it—told me that if you died, I wouldn’t be far behind. He can be somewhat intimidating.”
Ash laughed. His brother was a tall, unloveable hulk of a man, who also happened to be a peer. Bruce could use his fists or his rank to win a fight. Yet Crewe merely rated him “somewhat” intimidating. “What exactly were you before you became a valet?” Ash asked him.
“Bit of this, bit of that.”
“Expand.”
“Well, when I was a lad, Mum sent me out to the streets everyday. I got no supper if I hadn’t got something worth getting. So I learned to pickpocket, and later to nap a peter if I thought I could carry it—”
“Nap a what?”
“Oh, that’s when you cut luggage off a coach, sir. Just slice the leather strap or the rope, and boom, there’s your prize. Falls right into the street and you just grab it and run. Good odds, because there’s always something to fence in a traveling trunk.”
“What went wrong?”
“Nabbed one night,” Crewe said. “I wasn’t quick enough and this young bobby snagged me right off the street. Convicted, of course. But since I was only twelve and so short, the beak took pity on me and kept me from the gallows.”
“Beak?”
“The judge. Most of ’em are heartless, but sometimes you get lucky. Anyway, spent two years in Old Bailey, and when they turned me loose, Mum was dead. I had to go back to thieving—what else could I do? But I chanced on a gang, and started jumping houses with them. I was a good cracksman, too. Real fast, and no noise! But it turned out that the gang I took up with weren’t the most faithful friends.”
“Imagine that,” Ash murmured.
“When the law got hot on them, they set me up for the fall. Abandoned me in the middle of a jump and let the law drag me off while they got clean away with the haul.”
“Back to prison, then?”
“Gallows, for certain. Funny thing, though. While I sitting in gaol, waiting for my turn in front of the beak, I saw someone who I knew from the old days. ‘Burnett,’ I say to him, ‘you done for, too?’ Because I knew what was coming this time.
“And he just smiles at me, and says, ‘Crewe, I’m only in here due to a misunderstanding. Just you wait and see.’ So we sat there, talking about everything that happened to both of us since we last saw each other as boys. A few hours later, a lady shows up at the cell door. A real lady, I mean. Pretty and clean and in a getup that cost more than I stole in my whole life. She looks through those bars and says, ‘Burnett, I hurried over as soon as I could. They’re going to let you out now.’
“This lady knew Burnett! And then Burnett says, ‘Milady, Crewe here needs out, too. Could you please? He’s got no one else.’
“She looks at me, then Burnett, then me again. I tell you, I never knew what Judgment Day meant before that lady looked me in the eye. But then she says, ‘If Burnett vouches for you, I’ll try.’”
Ash raised an eyebrow. “The lady must have succeeded, because you’re still alive.”
“She did. Don’t know how she convinced the gaolers to let me go—bribe, probably. But I left the place with Burnett and this lady, feeling like I sneaked out of hell. Turned out, he was a Disreputable. So now I am too. Learned to put my skills to better use than I had before, because when you get a chance to cheat the gallows, you take it.” Crewe brushed his hands together, as if ridding them of dirt. “That’s my tale.”
“And after all that, you’re going to press my shirts?” Ash asked.
“Along with whatever else the job requires.”
Crewe rode with him on the journey from London, a journey that grew increasingly uncomfortable as the roads turned narrower, less traveled, and more desolate.
They reached their destination around twilight the second day. At least, it seemed to be twilight. All the fog coming in from the water, combined with low, heavy clouds, conspired to make the very air murky.
Ash stepped out of the carriage and took a moment to stretch. The last few miles were the worst, the road being hardly more than a dirt track riddled with cobbles. He looked around, taking in the scene.
Grasmere House was impressive for its size alone. The stone walls stretched in either direction from the entryway, and soon became lost in the misty gloom. Ash looked up, wondering if the roof would also be lost in the dense fog rolling in from the sea.
He didn’t see the upper roofline, but a flash of white caught his eye. Then he blinked, wondering if he was seeing things.
The white shape was a woman. She stood on the protruding roof of the first story of the house, leaning against the side of a dormer. The white he’d noticed was her gown—a filmy, flimsy excuse of a dress with a high waist and no sleeves to speak of. Women’s fashion had of late completely disavowed practicality, a trend Ash approved of until this moment.
She must be freezing, Ash thought, and irrationally wondered if he ought to toss up a jacket of some sort.
Her light-colored hair was loose and writhed in the breeze as if it had a life of its own. Ash didn’t believe in ghosts, but the woman was making a strong case for the phenomenon.
Then the woman realized she’d been spotted. She crouched down and took a step back, using the dormer to hide. Ash still stared at her, though, too surprised to do anything else.
The woman caught his gaze and put a finger to her lips, an expressive plea for silence—one a ghost presumably wouldn’t bother to do.
“Sir?” Crewe asked, looking curiously at Ash. “Something wrong?”
Ash quickly shifted his attention to Crewe, who’d taken his valise in hand. “Nothing wrong. Let’s get inside before this mist soaks into our bones.”
Crewe nodded agreement and went ahead of Ash to the doorway. Ash chanced a last look up at the place where the woman in white had been, but now nothing was there but a swirl of thicker mist pushed in by the ocean breeze.
“God damn,” Ash muttered. “What did I get myself into?”