Tomorrow's Crimes ll Moriarty the Patriot

Between Strangers, an Understanding

Adelaide turned at the voice, nearly dropping her fork in surprise. A tall, handsome man stood beside her secluded corner, a glass of red wine held elegantly in one hand while the other rested against his chest in a gesture of respect. His golden-brown hair caught the candlelight, and there was something both aristocratic and approachable in his bearing that struck her as oddly familiar. His emerald eyes held a sharp intelligence that seemed to see right through the carefully constructed facades around them.

Heat crept into her cheeks as she realized he must have heard her barely-suppressed sounds of appreciation over the food. "I... thank you for the recommendation, sir."

His smile widened, warm and genuine in a way that seemed rare among the calculated social maneuverings she'd witnessed all evening. "Moriarty," he offered with a slight bow. "And may I wish you a very happy birthday, Lady Adelaide?"

Adelaide blinked in surprise, quickly scanning her mental catalog of eligible gentlemen that her mother had made her memorize over the past weeks. Moriarty wasn't among them, which was curious – and somehow relieving. A nobleman who wasn't actively seeking a marriage alliance was a rare find indeed at such an event.

"You're very kind to remember that detail," she said, gesturing to the chair beside her. "Though I confess, I'm surprised anyone noticed it amongst all the..." she waved vaguely at the grandeur surrounding them, "other celebrations."

"Ah, but surely the day of one's birth deserves as much attention as their social debut?" He settled into the offered chair with military precision, though his manner remained casual. "Particularly when the lady in question seems more interested in meaningful conversation than mere social climbing." He took another sip of his wine, studying her with evident interest. "I must say, your technique earlier this evening was quite impressive."

Adelaide paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. "My technique?""Mm, yes. The way you handled Lord Ruthven and Sir Crawford." His emerald eyes sparkled with barely concealed amusement. "That wide-eyed ingenue act was masterful. I particularly enjoyed how you got Ruthven to practically confess to bribing customs officials while thinking he was simply enlightening an admiring young lady."

Adelaide carefully set down her fork, her heart racing slightly. "You were watching me?"

"I make it my business to watch everything, my lady. Particularly when someone as... unusual as yourself appears in our midst." He leaned forward slightly. "Tell me, how many incriminating details did you manage to extract from our dear friend Sir Crawford about his Manchester operations?"

"Enough to hang him," Adelaide replied without thinking, then quickly added, "... metaphorically speaking, of course."

Moriarty's smile widened. "Of course." He took another sip of wine. "Though I must say, your reaction when he mentioned the child workers was almost enough to give you away. Just the slightest flash of anger in your eyes – most wouldn't have noticed it, but I'm not most people."Adelaide felt her cheeks flush. "Well, when someone proudly announces they're exploiting children because their 'small hands are perfectly suited' to being mangled by dangerous machinery, it's a bit difficult to maintain complete composure."

"Indeed." Something darker flickered across Moriarty's face. "The casualness with which they discuss such matters is perhaps the most revolting part. As if the suffering of others were merely an interesting footnote in their ledgers."

"It's maddening," Adelaide agreed, stabbing at her lamb with perhaps more force than necessary. "They sit here in their silk and jewels, congratulating themselves on their business acumen, while families are being worked to death in their factories and mines. And they have the audacity to call it charity! 'Oh, how touching that entire families can work together,'" she mimicked Sir Crawford's pompous tone. "As if having both parents and children trapped in the same deadly conditions is some sort of blessing."