Post by Liessel on Mar 19, 2024 14:03:54 GMT -5
Continued from Love and Loyalty
Farewells could be easy if they were the short term type. The idle 'I'll see you tomorrow's were always a lot better than the long term 'I'll return someday's, or the 'when we meet again's.
Liessel had sat, listening and watching as Tom reached out to Gerold, and had gotten no worthwhile response. Her prayers for something did not go unanswered, though. Tomlin Jefferson had been firm in the assurances he'd given her. He would find a way to get out there. He'd find a way to help.
So it was, with friendly goodbyes and thank yous shared with Tomlin that Liessel found herself at the bottom of the stairs leading to the door of his apartment. The world waited out there, and she had to take a moment to breathe her way through the nest of her own thoughts before opening the door and stepping out into the world.
Ethan was sitting outside on the curb. He didn't look up when the door opened. His long hair was worn back into a ponytail instead of its normal braid. It was combed neatly. He was wearing his school uniform without
Coming out and down the front steps, Liessel stopped herself at the bottom. She couldn't see his face, but she knew that head of hair, "Mister McDowell," She called softly from where she stood, just a few feet away, before closing the distance behind him, "Walk with me, if you would?"
He jumped to his feet when she spoke his name... His jacket to his school uniform suit fthat was draped across his lap ell to the ground and he hastily grabbed it up. "Miss Wickham," he said, bowing his head to her. He nodded, looking a little like a deer in the headlights but would fall in step with her.
The urge was there to bend for his jacket herself, but he had already bent down and scooped it up, "If all this tension is because of me," She told him as they started walking, "You can relax. Our quarrel is no longer a quarrel. Though, I would like to apologize again for striking you that day. Whatever the day had brought to any of us, I had no right to lay my hand on you like that."
"I'm sorry, too," he said softly. "I shouldn't have run my mouth off. I... It was very insensitive, and I regretted it the moment I said it. I just... I didn't know how to apologize."
Her hand was there, a gentle touch to his arm with the pressure barely felt, "It was a difficult day, Ethan. We both had faced some of our ghosts in the middle of that battle. Everyone had. It just so happened that we, you and I, felt the rough edges of each other at the wrong moment. All that to say, it is alright."
He took a deep breath and nodded. He couldn't quite bring himself to look her in the face just yet, but he was starting to relax. He gave her the slightest of smiles without looking at her face. "I hear you have another name."
"I do," Her hand left his arm, coming together with her other hand where she folded them together against her skirt as they walked, "Its Liessel, Liessel Erphale. "
"Miss Erphale," he said softly. "Only fair to tell you my name, too, right?"
"Fair is fair," Liessel answered him quietly, giving a small nod, "Though, I wasn't aware you had been using an alias this whole time."
He gave her a graceful bow. "Nathaniel Cooper Kirkpatrick at your service, Miss."
"It is a pleasure, Mister Kirkpatrick," Her head tipped toward him in the approximation of a gracious lady-like bow, "Why do you use McDowell, then, if Kirkpatrick is your name?"
"My father," he said softly. "He has hunted me to the ends of the earth since I ran away 5 years ago."
Her brow drew in swiftly, and her head turned away from him to skirt the street they had been walking down with her eyes. When she looked back toward him, Liessel was frowning deeply, "Hunted youi. To what end? Why did you have to run away?" She asked those questions, and then shook her head, feeling like she already knew the answer, "Your -- friend -- right?"
His brows drew down, then she guessed it right. He nodded once. "He sought to control the demon through controlling me. He alienated me. He abused me. And when I finally ran away, it was with only the clothes on my back and looking over my shoulder every step of the way... Since coming to our friends, to the Frontiersmen, its been the longest I've stayed put anywhere since running away." He looked thoughtful. "Probably was in France the longest before London."
"I certainly know how it feels to have nothing but what you are carrying with you when you leave, to have to watch over your shoulder every step of the way afterward," Liessel's hand was there again, ever so lightly against his arm. He had done it for far longer than she had, but he, too, had found the shelter of friends, "I am glad you found good people to help you, Mister McDowell. What will you do if your father ever finds you?"
He gave her the slightest of smiles. He finally looked at her in the face. That smile was not a particularly pleasant smile, but it was filled with grim humor. "He already has. But he knows its out of his hands now. It's the only reason i am comfortable telling you my real name. I've gone by Ethan for so long, it feels like a second skin."
"What happened when he found you?" The street that Tomlin and Ethan lived on was not the wide lane of the Knightsbridge house with its fenced in yards and gloriously huge houses where there was space to breathe and hedges to separate. This neighborhood was far less grand, and far more crowded, leaning toward the side of the spectrum where Flynn and Flynn sat than the grandiose atmosphere of Trevor Square.
He kept walking, but he offered her his elbow for her to take if she so desired. He shrugged one muscular shoulder. "He cornered me down on the docks. He tried to talk directly to my... friend... Fat lot of good it did him. My friend doesn't come out to play unless I let him come out to play thanks to the Strictures... Let's just say that my father found out very quickly he does not know me and he does not have any control over me. Nor does he or my family have my loyalty."
Her hand easily slipped through the opening Ethan made with the crook of his arm, her touch against his forearm where her hand landed remained so very light, "I am glad that the Strictures have helped you to gain control of him -- your friend. And I am glad that you are free of someone like your father. The rest of your family, they were as bad as he was -- is?"
He shook his head. "The Kirkpatricks? Yes... My mother's family... Well, my mother, anyway, was actually ignorant of it all when she married my father... It wasn't until I got my friend that they were aware of anything wrong in the family... They saw me as a literal demon. She couldn't stand to look at me..." He shook his head.
"That's --" Her words ran dry before her like an old river that had lost all of its water, "I'm so sorry, Ethan. I am -- really glad that you've found people, like our friends -- like the Frontiersmen -- who were able to help and support you."
He gave her a grateful smile that reached his eyes. "It's okay," he promised her. "I'm glad I found them, too. Through the Strictures, I found a freedom I'd have otherwise never had." He visibly shuddered. "You have no idea the lengths and evils I've gone through and done to make sure my friend went with me to the grave."
"I can imagine," Liessel cast a glance his way as they walked, "That the burden of keeping him under control, and the world around you safe, has been a heavy one."
He nodded only once to that. He looked very sad right then. "I could have never imagined the level of control i have now. It wasn't even in the scope of the imagination," he said very quietly.
"Well, I am glad that it is helping," That came with a soft smile sent his way through the shift of a tiny glance, "And I do not know if I ever thanked you for using him, for coming to get me when I -- went after The Drake that day."
He grinned at that. "If I have learned nothing else among my time with all of our mutual companions, it is that when you have it within you to act, do so."
Her own small smile grew a little bit, "I greatly appreciate you taking action, if you hadn't there was a great chance I would have fallen. I remember a lot about what happened there, and not so much about what happened immediately after. I was very close to losing my grip. You got there just in time."
He flashed her a wink. "I was determined to see you safe to the ground. If I hadn't made it up to you, I would've found a way to catch you."
"That, too, I greatly appreciate. I do rather enjoy the feeling of my bones being bones and not a thousand shattered pieces of themselves." There, Liessel stopped, gently seeking to pull Ethan to a stop with her through the use of pressure against his arm where her hand lay, "But, on the subject of that day, and while I am grateful for your help, I -- I need to ask you something. And I need you to answer me honestly."
He stopped and met her eyes evenly. He stayed silent, awaiting the question. The acknowledgement of answering honestly went without saying.
She drew in a breath, then let it out slowly. That moment was used to draw in some pieces of herself that felt like they were slipping away from her control. "Did you talk to Captain Singh -- about me?"
At first, he looked a little confused-- and then his eyes got big. "Oh, no, what did I say?"
"I believe that is my question, Mister McDowell. What did you tell him?"
He tilted his head to the side, thinking about it. Willing it to come back to his memory... "He asked about you. What I knew about you. He said you were the only one he didn't understand... He said you were hiding... He wanted to know why. I said I knew why, but it wasn't my story to tell... I told him that you were terrified of being found... He asked what was after you, I said--" He stopped, frowning as he sorted through it again "He asked if what was after you was... Awake. I said, awake? Yes. Mortal? I have no idea... He then asked me if Aurelia knew all of this and I said yes."
Liessel waited that out, listening as Ethan ran through what had been said. Her mixed feelings about it all were still no clearer, but at least now she knew, "Thank you for maintaining your discretion, Ethan. It was not nearly as bad as I thought it might have been."
"That man is a smooth talker," he murmured. "And for whatever reason, i was happy to talk... And looking back, I worry about the fact that I spoke at all."
"He has that way about him," Liessel said, casting a glance around at their surroundings once more, and the people around them, before returning to his side with her arm looping through his. This time, she didn't wait for the offer, "But, at least all you did was talk to him."
He thought that a very strange and fully loaded statement. It sounded like a pile of dung waiting to be stepped in. He saw it, though, and carefully navigated the field around it. So the only response he really had other than to let her take his arm again was a strangely quiet grunt.
All the same, as they started walking along again, Liessel quietly told Ethan, "He used what little you told him to get close to me, to try and see me behind the silence I shrouded myself with and the distance that I kept. I am really glad that you didn't tell him more."
"Me too," he said very softly. "I still don't know whether I like the guy."
To that, Liessel laughed a bit and shook her head, "Neither do the Flynns, to be honest. I think Avery is just waiting for the day when I tell him that I changed my mind about wanting to help him and Miss Webber. But I don't know if I can change my mind about that. It seems too cruel."
"Help them how?" he asked.
Liessel drew in a breath, as if to answer, but wound up shaking her head. Her eyes were on the people ahead of them who were just going about their lives.
"Not out here, I'll tell you when we have walls around us." She said at length, glancing Ethan's way, "But that does bring me to the next subject I wanted to talk to you about. Do you remember a man named John Slake? I think you might have met him in Bournemouth while you were there with Aurelia, and Cyrus."
His lip curled a little. " I remember him, yes,"
"I take it by that expression, you do not remember him fondly," Her mouth pulled down into a frown and her eyes returned to the path ahead of them again, "I need you to tell me what you know of him. Has he come to see you and Mister Jefferson? He's been poking around Flynn and Flynn and the Knightsbridge house."
He was quiet for a long moment before his frown deepened. "I do not like to judge people on first impressions and initial feelings. Gods know if I did that, I'd never get any decent interactions with people period. I know how I feel to some people... But have you ever just looked at someone and thought, 'That person is as slithery as a snake'? That's how John Slake makes me feel."
Glancing his way again, Liessel said, "I had the same thought when he showed up at my door. He watched me as I watched him, but there was something about him. His eyes. It was the way that he looked and watched. Keep your eyes open for me, please, Mister McDowell. If you see anyone that doesn't belong here, in your neighborhood, make note of them. If you get any weird sensations -- like your being followed with no one there -- make note of it -- and let me know. He wants a meeting with us -- Flynn and Flynn and Associates. But we don't know for what purpose. If he was stalking our residences by looking up properties associated with Avery's name, you might be fine. But better safe than sorry. And -- warn Mister Jefferson for me, if you would."
He nodded. "I've been focusing on mundane learnings since the night of... Esteban... I go to school, I work, I eat, sleep, repeat... But I make rounds in the neighborhood every night. I keep my senses open when I'm out in public. Tom has made it crystal clear if I sense trouble, I am not to act unless a life is on the line."
"That's good," Liessel said softly, "Keep those senses open, and do what you can to keep yourself safe. It's being looked into, but I doubt we'll have any answers until after the Flynns and Miss Dumitru return from their holiday. If it proves that you and Mister Jefferson need a place to go, for whatever reason, the Knightsbridge house doors are always open to you both. Though," She drew in a breath and huffed it out quickly, "I should warn you, Mister McDowell, I've gotten a cat."
He didn't glance at her, but one red brow did quirk itself. "hmm. Cat, eh? Was it happenstance or did you go out looking for a cat?"
"Happenstance," She threw another glance his way, "I found the poor thing all twisted up and trapped in one of my garden flowers. I don't know how he got himself trapped like that, but he couldn't get himself out. It happened not too long before the Flynns and Aurelia left."
He smiled slightly. "Sounds like you. Adopting a cat in distress." His tone was quiet, thoughtful, but also respectful. An observation.
"Well, I couldn't just leave it there like that!" Liessel felt her own small smile drawing on swiftly, "The poor thing was tangled in my Dahlias."
"Is that a thorny plant?" He asked curiously.
"No," Liessel shook her head slightly, "Not at all. But the blooms can be rather large, and the stems haphazard to handle. They just grow how they want to grow."
"So it dove in whiskers first and decided to try to swim its way out?" He asked, grinning.
Her laugh was light, "Something like that, I think. Yes. And if not that I think Sprite was trying to pick a fight he couldn't win and only realized it too late."
"Sprite? Interesting name... And thank you for warning me about him. Most animals don't react positively to me. Tom complains frequently he'd have a dog if not for me and Seth."
"I figured you would enjoy the warning." She said with a smile, "If you let me know ahead of time, I will see to it that Sprite is kept out your presence. And as for that dog, you can hang around Mister Jefferson all you like if that is what is preventing him from getting one. I know I do not come very often to visit, but that "not often" would turn into "never" very quickly."
He grinned. "Not a dog person, then?" He asked. He shrugged. "I've never had a pet. My live-in friend has always been with me in some form or another. When not me, my brother before me, my father before that. I don't even know if I like them or if I ever would."
He held up a finger. "I only know how to ride because Eli insisted I learn. His horse wasn't unnerved by me."
"Petrified of them," She told Ethan as they rounded the corner at the end of the street, "And as for Desmonda, I can imagine she's pretty accustomed to the strange and -- otherworldly -- given who her master is."
Ethan laughed. "indeed... Eli takes great pride in her. He broke and trained her. My grandfather would like him even if he was American."
"Your grandfather has something against Americans?" A delicately curved eyebrow lifted with that question as she glanced his way.
"My accent only comes out when I get excitable or upset, but I am mostly scottish," he said with a grin. "I was born in America, but we came back to Scotland when I was only a few months old. My grandfather holds all of America personally responsible for his daughter marrying a wanderer and carting her off to America." He cleared his throat."My grandfather was--is?-- an equestrian by trade. He bred and trained horses."
"Wait," She had to stop and turn toward him again so that she could see Ethan as he answered, "Your grandfather blames an entire nation for his daughter marrying a man who she went with?"
He shrugged. "I never said he was a rational man, Miss Erphale."
"I just wanted to make sure I heard you right. The people here can have such strange customs."
"I don't think it's a custom thing. I think it's a him thing." He said with a grin.
Liessel gave a small nod, and folded her hands together as they stood there, "Did he only start hating Americans after his daughter went away? Or did that only make things worse?"
He gave her a bemused look. "You know? I have no idea," he said softly. "I barely remember him. I haven't seen or spoken to him or anyone else in my mother's family since before I got my friend 10 years ago."
"Perhaps he's changed his mind since then," She tried to sound hopeful with that offering, "But if it is such a rare thing for you to have contact with them, it is highly doubtful that Mister Whitmoor has anything to worry about from him."
He grinned and shook his head. "He'd be older than Gerold if he were still alive," he said softly.
Liessel bit back on the frown that wanted to come. There was no place in this conversation for a reaction like that. Instead, Liessel looked away for a moment, took a breath and said, "Gerold is not so old, Mister McDowell."
"No, he is not," he agreed. "I just have no other person for comparison for age iswhat I meant," he said. He sounded apologetic in that. "I meant that my grandfather would be considerably older than Gerold." He frowned. Doing mental math. "I don't have exact ages, but I know mh mother was the youngest of 7. And that I was the youngest of four. So. If he's still around, he's old as dirt." He gave her an apologetic look. "I still am pretty poor at explaining things and using comparisons. I'm sorry."
"No," she reached out for his arm again, shaking her head, "You do not need to apologize, Mister McDowell. I'm the one who should be doing that. Your comparison was fine. Mister Schoen has been heavily in my thoughts these past days. It was nothing you said."
He gave her a small, sad smile that gave away he didn't quite believe that. That revealed he still saw it as his fault for upsetting her. But he let her take up the walk and set their pace. "We have a good park not far from here. Would you like to see it?
"I would love to," Liessel answered, her arm slipping once more back through the crook of Ethan's.
Farewells could be easy if they were the short term type. The idle 'I'll see you tomorrow's were always a lot better than the long term 'I'll return someday's, or the 'when we meet again's.
Liessel had sat, listening and watching as Tom reached out to Gerold, and had gotten no worthwhile response. Her prayers for something did not go unanswered, though. Tomlin Jefferson had been firm in the assurances he'd given her. He would find a way to get out there. He'd find a way to help.
So it was, with friendly goodbyes and thank yous shared with Tomlin that Liessel found herself at the bottom of the stairs leading to the door of his apartment. The world waited out there, and she had to take a moment to breathe her way through the nest of her own thoughts before opening the door and stepping out into the world.
Ethan was sitting outside on the curb. He didn't look up when the door opened. His long hair was worn back into a ponytail instead of its normal braid. It was combed neatly. He was wearing his school uniform without
Coming out and down the front steps, Liessel stopped herself at the bottom. She couldn't see his face, but she knew that head of hair, "Mister McDowell," She called softly from where she stood, just a few feet away, before closing the distance behind him, "Walk with me, if you would?"
He jumped to his feet when she spoke his name... His jacket to his school uniform suit fthat was draped across his lap ell to the ground and he hastily grabbed it up. "Miss Wickham," he said, bowing his head to her. He nodded, looking a little like a deer in the headlights but would fall in step with her.
The urge was there to bend for his jacket herself, but he had already bent down and scooped it up, "If all this tension is because of me," She told him as they started walking, "You can relax. Our quarrel is no longer a quarrel. Though, I would like to apologize again for striking you that day. Whatever the day had brought to any of us, I had no right to lay my hand on you like that."
"I'm sorry, too," he said softly. "I shouldn't have run my mouth off. I... It was very insensitive, and I regretted it the moment I said it. I just... I didn't know how to apologize."
Her hand was there, a gentle touch to his arm with the pressure barely felt, "It was a difficult day, Ethan. We both had faced some of our ghosts in the middle of that battle. Everyone had. It just so happened that we, you and I, felt the rough edges of each other at the wrong moment. All that to say, it is alright."
He took a deep breath and nodded. He couldn't quite bring himself to look her in the face just yet, but he was starting to relax. He gave her the slightest of smiles without looking at her face. "I hear you have another name."
"I do," Her hand left his arm, coming together with her other hand where she folded them together against her skirt as they walked, "Its Liessel, Liessel Erphale. "
"Miss Erphale," he said softly. "Only fair to tell you my name, too, right?"
"Fair is fair," Liessel answered him quietly, giving a small nod, "Though, I wasn't aware you had been using an alias this whole time."
He gave her a graceful bow. "Nathaniel Cooper Kirkpatrick at your service, Miss."
"It is a pleasure, Mister Kirkpatrick," Her head tipped toward him in the approximation of a gracious lady-like bow, "Why do you use McDowell, then, if Kirkpatrick is your name?"
"My father," he said softly. "He has hunted me to the ends of the earth since I ran away 5 years ago."
Her brow drew in swiftly, and her head turned away from him to skirt the street they had been walking down with her eyes. When she looked back toward him, Liessel was frowning deeply, "Hunted youi. To what end? Why did you have to run away?" She asked those questions, and then shook her head, feeling like she already knew the answer, "Your -- friend -- right?"
His brows drew down, then she guessed it right. He nodded once. "He sought to control the demon through controlling me. He alienated me. He abused me. And when I finally ran away, it was with only the clothes on my back and looking over my shoulder every step of the way... Since coming to our friends, to the Frontiersmen, its been the longest I've stayed put anywhere since running away." He looked thoughtful. "Probably was in France the longest before London."
"I certainly know how it feels to have nothing but what you are carrying with you when you leave, to have to watch over your shoulder every step of the way afterward," Liessel's hand was there again, ever so lightly against his arm. He had done it for far longer than she had, but he, too, had found the shelter of friends, "I am glad you found good people to help you, Mister McDowell. What will you do if your father ever finds you?"
He gave her the slightest of smiles. He finally looked at her in the face. That smile was not a particularly pleasant smile, but it was filled with grim humor. "He already has. But he knows its out of his hands now. It's the only reason i am comfortable telling you my real name. I've gone by Ethan for so long, it feels like a second skin."
"What happened when he found you?" The street that Tomlin and Ethan lived on was not the wide lane of the Knightsbridge house with its fenced in yards and gloriously huge houses where there was space to breathe and hedges to separate. This neighborhood was far less grand, and far more crowded, leaning toward the side of the spectrum where Flynn and Flynn sat than the grandiose atmosphere of Trevor Square.
He kept walking, but he offered her his elbow for her to take if she so desired. He shrugged one muscular shoulder. "He cornered me down on the docks. He tried to talk directly to my... friend... Fat lot of good it did him. My friend doesn't come out to play unless I let him come out to play thanks to the Strictures... Let's just say that my father found out very quickly he does not know me and he does not have any control over me. Nor does he or my family have my loyalty."
Her hand easily slipped through the opening Ethan made with the crook of his arm, her touch against his forearm where her hand landed remained so very light, "I am glad that the Strictures have helped you to gain control of him -- your friend. And I am glad that you are free of someone like your father. The rest of your family, they were as bad as he was -- is?"
He shook his head. "The Kirkpatricks? Yes... My mother's family... Well, my mother, anyway, was actually ignorant of it all when she married my father... It wasn't until I got my friend that they were aware of anything wrong in the family... They saw me as a literal demon. She couldn't stand to look at me..." He shook his head.
"That's --" Her words ran dry before her like an old river that had lost all of its water, "I'm so sorry, Ethan. I am -- really glad that you've found people, like our friends -- like the Frontiersmen -- who were able to help and support you."
He gave her a grateful smile that reached his eyes. "It's okay," he promised her. "I'm glad I found them, too. Through the Strictures, I found a freedom I'd have otherwise never had." He visibly shuddered. "You have no idea the lengths and evils I've gone through and done to make sure my friend went with me to the grave."
"I can imagine," Liessel cast a glance his way as they walked, "That the burden of keeping him under control, and the world around you safe, has been a heavy one."
He nodded only once to that. He looked very sad right then. "I could have never imagined the level of control i have now. It wasn't even in the scope of the imagination," he said very quietly.
"Well, I am glad that it is helping," That came with a soft smile sent his way through the shift of a tiny glance, "And I do not know if I ever thanked you for using him, for coming to get me when I -- went after The Drake that day."
He grinned at that. "If I have learned nothing else among my time with all of our mutual companions, it is that when you have it within you to act, do so."
Her own small smile grew a little bit, "I greatly appreciate you taking action, if you hadn't there was a great chance I would have fallen. I remember a lot about what happened there, and not so much about what happened immediately after. I was very close to losing my grip. You got there just in time."
He flashed her a wink. "I was determined to see you safe to the ground. If I hadn't made it up to you, I would've found a way to catch you."
"That, too, I greatly appreciate. I do rather enjoy the feeling of my bones being bones and not a thousand shattered pieces of themselves." There, Liessel stopped, gently seeking to pull Ethan to a stop with her through the use of pressure against his arm where her hand lay, "But, on the subject of that day, and while I am grateful for your help, I -- I need to ask you something. And I need you to answer me honestly."
He stopped and met her eyes evenly. He stayed silent, awaiting the question. The acknowledgement of answering honestly went without saying.
She drew in a breath, then let it out slowly. That moment was used to draw in some pieces of herself that felt like they were slipping away from her control. "Did you talk to Captain Singh -- about me?"
At first, he looked a little confused-- and then his eyes got big. "Oh, no, what did I say?"
"I believe that is my question, Mister McDowell. What did you tell him?"
He tilted his head to the side, thinking about it. Willing it to come back to his memory... "He asked about you. What I knew about you. He said you were the only one he didn't understand... He said you were hiding... He wanted to know why. I said I knew why, but it wasn't my story to tell... I told him that you were terrified of being found... He asked what was after you, I said--" He stopped, frowning as he sorted through it again "He asked if what was after you was... Awake. I said, awake? Yes. Mortal? I have no idea... He then asked me if Aurelia knew all of this and I said yes."
Liessel waited that out, listening as Ethan ran through what had been said. Her mixed feelings about it all were still no clearer, but at least now she knew, "Thank you for maintaining your discretion, Ethan. It was not nearly as bad as I thought it might have been."
"That man is a smooth talker," he murmured. "And for whatever reason, i was happy to talk... And looking back, I worry about the fact that I spoke at all."
"He has that way about him," Liessel said, casting a glance around at their surroundings once more, and the people around them, before returning to his side with her arm looping through his. This time, she didn't wait for the offer, "But, at least all you did was talk to him."
He thought that a very strange and fully loaded statement. It sounded like a pile of dung waiting to be stepped in. He saw it, though, and carefully navigated the field around it. So the only response he really had other than to let her take his arm again was a strangely quiet grunt.
All the same, as they started walking along again, Liessel quietly told Ethan, "He used what little you told him to get close to me, to try and see me behind the silence I shrouded myself with and the distance that I kept. I am really glad that you didn't tell him more."
"Me too," he said very softly. "I still don't know whether I like the guy."
To that, Liessel laughed a bit and shook her head, "Neither do the Flynns, to be honest. I think Avery is just waiting for the day when I tell him that I changed my mind about wanting to help him and Miss Webber. But I don't know if I can change my mind about that. It seems too cruel."
"Help them how?" he asked.
Liessel drew in a breath, as if to answer, but wound up shaking her head. Her eyes were on the people ahead of them who were just going about their lives.
"Not out here, I'll tell you when we have walls around us." She said at length, glancing Ethan's way, "But that does bring me to the next subject I wanted to talk to you about. Do you remember a man named John Slake? I think you might have met him in Bournemouth while you were there with Aurelia, and Cyrus."
His lip curled a little. " I remember him, yes,"
"I take it by that expression, you do not remember him fondly," Her mouth pulled down into a frown and her eyes returned to the path ahead of them again, "I need you to tell me what you know of him. Has he come to see you and Mister Jefferson? He's been poking around Flynn and Flynn and the Knightsbridge house."
He was quiet for a long moment before his frown deepened. "I do not like to judge people on first impressions and initial feelings. Gods know if I did that, I'd never get any decent interactions with people period. I know how I feel to some people... But have you ever just looked at someone and thought, 'That person is as slithery as a snake'? That's how John Slake makes me feel."
Glancing his way again, Liessel said, "I had the same thought when he showed up at my door. He watched me as I watched him, but there was something about him. His eyes. It was the way that he looked and watched. Keep your eyes open for me, please, Mister McDowell. If you see anyone that doesn't belong here, in your neighborhood, make note of them. If you get any weird sensations -- like your being followed with no one there -- make note of it -- and let me know. He wants a meeting with us -- Flynn and Flynn and Associates. But we don't know for what purpose. If he was stalking our residences by looking up properties associated with Avery's name, you might be fine. But better safe than sorry. And -- warn Mister Jefferson for me, if you would."
He nodded. "I've been focusing on mundane learnings since the night of... Esteban... I go to school, I work, I eat, sleep, repeat... But I make rounds in the neighborhood every night. I keep my senses open when I'm out in public. Tom has made it crystal clear if I sense trouble, I am not to act unless a life is on the line."
"That's good," Liessel said softly, "Keep those senses open, and do what you can to keep yourself safe. It's being looked into, but I doubt we'll have any answers until after the Flynns and Miss Dumitru return from their holiday. If it proves that you and Mister Jefferson need a place to go, for whatever reason, the Knightsbridge house doors are always open to you both. Though," She drew in a breath and huffed it out quickly, "I should warn you, Mister McDowell, I've gotten a cat."
He didn't glance at her, but one red brow did quirk itself. "hmm. Cat, eh? Was it happenstance or did you go out looking for a cat?"
"Happenstance," She threw another glance his way, "I found the poor thing all twisted up and trapped in one of my garden flowers. I don't know how he got himself trapped like that, but he couldn't get himself out. It happened not too long before the Flynns and Aurelia left."
He smiled slightly. "Sounds like you. Adopting a cat in distress." His tone was quiet, thoughtful, but also respectful. An observation.
"Well, I couldn't just leave it there like that!" Liessel felt her own small smile drawing on swiftly, "The poor thing was tangled in my Dahlias."
"Is that a thorny plant?" He asked curiously.
"No," Liessel shook her head slightly, "Not at all. But the blooms can be rather large, and the stems haphazard to handle. They just grow how they want to grow."
"So it dove in whiskers first and decided to try to swim its way out?" He asked, grinning.
Her laugh was light, "Something like that, I think. Yes. And if not that I think Sprite was trying to pick a fight he couldn't win and only realized it too late."
"Sprite? Interesting name... And thank you for warning me about him. Most animals don't react positively to me. Tom complains frequently he'd have a dog if not for me and Seth."
"I figured you would enjoy the warning." She said with a smile, "If you let me know ahead of time, I will see to it that Sprite is kept out your presence. And as for that dog, you can hang around Mister Jefferson all you like if that is what is preventing him from getting one. I know I do not come very often to visit, but that "not often" would turn into "never" very quickly."
He grinned. "Not a dog person, then?" He asked. He shrugged. "I've never had a pet. My live-in friend has always been with me in some form or another. When not me, my brother before me, my father before that. I don't even know if I like them or if I ever would."
He held up a finger. "I only know how to ride because Eli insisted I learn. His horse wasn't unnerved by me."
"Petrified of them," She told Ethan as they rounded the corner at the end of the street, "And as for Desmonda, I can imagine she's pretty accustomed to the strange and -- otherworldly -- given who her master is."
Ethan laughed. "indeed... Eli takes great pride in her. He broke and trained her. My grandfather would like him even if he was American."
"Your grandfather has something against Americans?" A delicately curved eyebrow lifted with that question as she glanced his way.
"My accent only comes out when I get excitable or upset, but I am mostly scottish," he said with a grin. "I was born in America, but we came back to Scotland when I was only a few months old. My grandfather holds all of America personally responsible for his daughter marrying a wanderer and carting her off to America." He cleared his throat."My grandfather was--is?-- an equestrian by trade. He bred and trained horses."
"Wait," She had to stop and turn toward him again so that she could see Ethan as he answered, "Your grandfather blames an entire nation for his daughter marrying a man who she went with?"
He shrugged. "I never said he was a rational man, Miss Erphale."
"I just wanted to make sure I heard you right. The people here can have such strange customs."
"I don't think it's a custom thing. I think it's a him thing." He said with a grin.
Liessel gave a small nod, and folded her hands together as they stood there, "Did he only start hating Americans after his daughter went away? Or did that only make things worse?"
He gave her a bemused look. "You know? I have no idea," he said softly. "I barely remember him. I haven't seen or spoken to him or anyone else in my mother's family since before I got my friend 10 years ago."
"Perhaps he's changed his mind since then," She tried to sound hopeful with that offering, "But if it is such a rare thing for you to have contact with them, it is highly doubtful that Mister Whitmoor has anything to worry about from him."
He grinned and shook his head. "He'd be older than Gerold if he were still alive," he said softly.
Liessel bit back on the frown that wanted to come. There was no place in this conversation for a reaction like that. Instead, Liessel looked away for a moment, took a breath and said, "Gerold is not so old, Mister McDowell."
"No, he is not," he agreed. "I just have no other person for comparison for age iswhat I meant," he said. He sounded apologetic in that. "I meant that my grandfather would be considerably older than Gerold." He frowned. Doing mental math. "I don't have exact ages, but I know mh mother was the youngest of 7. And that I was the youngest of four. So. If he's still around, he's old as dirt." He gave her an apologetic look. "I still am pretty poor at explaining things and using comparisons. I'm sorry."
"No," she reached out for his arm again, shaking her head, "You do not need to apologize, Mister McDowell. I'm the one who should be doing that. Your comparison was fine. Mister Schoen has been heavily in my thoughts these past days. It was nothing you said."
He gave her a small, sad smile that gave away he didn't quite believe that. That revealed he still saw it as his fault for upsetting her. But he let her take up the walk and set their pace. "We have a good park not far from here. Would you like to see it?
"I would love to," Liessel answered, her arm slipping once more back through the crook of Ethan's.