Page 4 of Anastasia and the Duke
"Is that anyway to speak to old Sidney, after all that I have done for you both?" Sidney sighed, clutching a gloved hand against his pigeon chest, "When I rescued you both from the gutters of Paris, I did not expect anything in return; I simply wished to return two vulnerable émigrés, alone in a hostile city, to safe soil."
Hannah, who had heard this story a dozen times before, sighed as the wiry man continued his performance.
"I found Nancy employment," Sidney continued balefully, "And ensured that you, Hannah, were always fed and warm. When poor Nan's fingers became too stiff to sew and you were both--once more--threatened with a life on the streets, who rescued you?"
"You did," Hannah answered dully, for it was the truth.
"I did," Sidney echoed, with a pious look upon his face, "Offered you both a chance to earn your keep by running the boarding house for me, all I asked for in return was a little help--"
"At first," Hannah interjected, hotly, "It was a little help at first, but you have to acknowledge that for these past few years you have asked more and more of me--of us both. Don't think that I don't understand what goes on here, Sidney; half the guests we house are wanted for sedition, and the jewels I steal on your behalf are being used to fund arms for their cause."
The kitchen was deathly silent as Sidney regarded her coolly. He had underestimated her, Hannah thought, with triumph; he had thought her an empty-headed fool, who would do his bidding without question, but he had been wrong.
"I give you bread and board," Sidney repeated, his voice carrying a low threat, "Is that not enough, you ingrate?"
"Bread and board are hardly a fair return for what I have given you, for all that I have risked." Hannah shrugged, "I want my fair share of the money, Sidney, and once I have it, Nan and I will be leaving."
"Or what?" Sid challenged, scowling across at her, "Are you going to inform on me? I can cut you up into little pieces, girl."
"You can't if you are dead," Hannah answered, proud that her voice was level and did not betray the fear she felt, "What's the punishment for treason these days?"
He did not answer, but he did not need to; everyone knew that treason was a hanging offence. Only last month, a crowd of ten-thousand had gathered at Newgate to watch a Republican hang. The atmosphere on the day had been carnival-like, with whole families attending for the entertainment of it, but it had struck an ice-cold fear in Hannah's heart. For too long she had ignored her niggling suspicions about Sidney, and her own role in his nefarious deeds, but, that day, after hearing the crowd roar their approval as the condemned man stepped up to the gallows, she had realised she must find a way to leave before she too ended up swinging from a noose.
Tonight, when Hawkfield had almost caught her, Hannah had understood that to wait any longer would be a folly; her luck could run out at any time. For once in her life, she had to be brave and trust in the unknown.
"I could gut you now," Sidney suggested quietly, throwing a lazy eye around the kitchen which was well-stocked for an act of butchery.
Nan groaned in despair, but Hannah ignored her; she was well prepared for threats.
"This is not an idle whim, Sid, I came prepared," Hannah answered, absently picking up a necklace from the table--jade, if she was not mistaken--to examine it. "I have left a sealed letter, detailing all your deeds, with a dear friend. In the event of my disappearance, this friend has been instructed to deliver said letter to the authorities."
"You haven't," Sidney bit-out, his face a picture of rage.
He was correct, for Hannah had no friends to whom she could entrust such a missive, but as Sidney wasn't to know that Hannah simply shrugged.
"Would you care to chance it?" she queried, allowing a smile to play upon her lips.
Sidney's silence in return to her question was the only answer Hannah needed; when it came to risking a life, Sid was happy to gamble with Hannah's but not his own.
"I'll be taking this," Hannah said, making to sweep the jewels from the table, but Sidney reached out to stop her. Despite his small stature, his grip was strong--painfully so.
"This is already owed out," he growled, with a nod to Hannah's stolen gems.
"They're mine," Hannah retorted, as she struggled to free herself from his grip. Sidney held on tight, however, and brought his face close to hers.
"Like I said," he whispered, his foul breath filling Hannah's nostrils, "They're not yours to take; these belong to men whose threats hold far more sway than yours. Men who would happily kill both you and I if we fail to deliver to them."
Hannah opened her mouth to object, but Sidney shook her so violently that she felt her teeth chatter.
"Just stay calm for a ruddy minute," he bellowed, oblivious that he might be wise to follow his own advice.
He let go of Hannah--shoving her roughly across the kitchen--and began to pace. Nancy rocked back and forth in her chair, her blue eyes darting fearfully between Hannah and Sid. Hannah longed to offer reassurance, but she remained silent, glaring defiantly at Sidney.
"If you want out," he said, as his pacing finally came to a halt, "Then you'll need money--proper money--to set yourself up. No point in leaving all this behind, only to find yourself penniless in a few months' time and forced to work in a doxy-house."
Hannah remained silent, though inwardly his words struck a chord. Her plan had not been thorough, inspired by fear rather than practicality. She had no skills to speak of, no family excepting Nan, and no idea how much Lady Jersey's jewels were actually worth. She knew plenty of fences in the Seven Dials, but honesty was not a common trait amongst them.
"I'm listening," Hannah prompted, as Sidney waited for her signal to continue.
