The Complement

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Caspian blinked. He shut his eyes again and squeezed them closed for a few moments longer before opening them to stare at the disoriented girl in front of him. What did she say?

Archer's head was tilted and he opened his mouth to speak, then just as quickly shut it again, shooting Caspian a sharp look. At least he wasn't the only one totally flummoxed.

"Lady Arabella, are you quite yourself?"

Caspian removed one of his gloves and touched a gentle hand to Arabella's forehead, checking for fever. One moment his hand was pressed to her smooth skin and the next the young lady was upright and brushing her skirts off, conveniently just out of arm's reach.

"I apologize for that, milords. I'm quite alright now, just a headache. Shall we continue?" Without waiting for a response, Arabella grabbed Archer and linked arms with him again, practically dragging him down the street. Caspian stared after the pair, wondering how one could bounce back so quickly from such a mysterious malady, and wondering if it would push the limits of propriety to demand answers.

The captain trailed back several paces, watching Arabella's long curls bounce and sway as they traveled down the street. The questions in his mind compounded. What was such a young thing doing in the seaside district without an escort? What business could she possibly have at Monty's? The way Archer described their meeting last night, her mother was a stern woman, not the type of parent to allow an unwed daughter unlimited freedom in a port city. Besides that, how would she know that the sailors called Montclair's "Monty"? Did she frequent the pubs and taverns by the docks? Or something else...? The more Caspian pondered Arabella's words and actions, the more confused he became at how inconsistent they were with her genteel speech and manner. And now her strange behaviour a moment ago. Surely not just a headache. Was she ill? Mad? Perhaps this misalignment was the cause of the pit in his stomach he felt whenever he met her?

Caspian stopped short as he realized that both Archer and Arabella were staring back at him. "Pardon?"

Archer rolled his eyes as Arabella snorted softly, trying to hide her mirth behind her hand. "Lady Arabella was wondering if had already set an appointment with the manager at Monty's."

"So I know how long or short to keep our excursion." Arabella smiled and Caspian forgot what it felt like to breathe. "Samuel is busy most days, so I wanted to be sure you had your full appointment time."

"Samuel?" Was this lass even on a first name basis with the manager of the largest trading conglomerate in the area?

"Yes, you will need to speak with him about a contract."

"Ahh. I had not contacted him at all yet, so I have no appointment. I was just recommended to the office by one of the barkeeps by the docks."

The skin on Arabella's forehead creased as her brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, "Which tavern?"

Why the Fates would she need to know that? Caspian was about to ask as much and opened his mouth, "The Rat's Flagon." Caspian wanted to slap himself for volunteering the information without so much as a cross-examination.

"Of course." Arabella slapped her hand to her forehead as she turned and gazed down the path. "Why can't that old biddy ever keep his mouth closed?" Her words were so quiet that Caspian might not have heard if the breeze hadn't died down just before she spoke. A heartbeat later, Arabella turned back to them, a half-smile fixed on her face, "Well, I wouldn't believe everything that dolt says. He's in his cups more often than not and has a loose tongue. I hope he didn't promise you employment. He knows as well as any that-." Arabella cut off suddenly and her nose twitched. "Anyway, let's get to the Markets before it gets too crowded."