The Adventures of the Crimson Blade 2

The Monongahela Inn, October 1774

Elizabeth Roberts sat in her room, working on her newest stories. Her publisher, Kurt Holstrom, was delighted with the adventure tales she was turning out. She certainly didn't lack for inspiration! The Crimson Blade and his band of outlaws had been quite active in the last few months, striking businesses ranging from the Flowergrams Gardens on the edge of town to the Pennsylvania Colony Coaches and the Midas Lotions and Soaps Shop a few streets away. No one knew just how they were getting away with it.

Elizabeth sighed. The Inn was doing as well as it ever did. The core residents and staff remained on, while other customers came and went, sometimes in the blink of an eye. Lady Penelope Comminger of Flowergrams Gardens had stayed on for a few days. She claimed she was there to oversee some of the weddings they were providing flowers for, but Elizabeth suspected she really wanted to talk to Mackie Bloom, who had once courted her.

Then, there was the time Scott's Aunt Agatha, who lived by the sea in the Massachusetts Colony, spent a day at the Inn. Scott claimed the Inn was a fortress and that he was a crony of George Washington! Elizabeth did have to admit it was kind of fun to pretend to be a military spy...until Aunt Agatha revealed that she'd known all along what they were doing.

And then, there was the infamous time they started a newspaper at the Inn. Scott called it an “in-house newsletter.” Their publication lasted eight hours. They chose the quietest, least-newsworthy day to begin. They could find no news to report anywhere, and Elizabeth refused to let Scott create his own.

Elizabeth had to admit that she'd begun to like Scott. She liked him a great deal. Even when his ideas didn't work, he always bounced back and came up with another one. He was funny and sweet and every inch a gentleman. He was a different manager than Victor Comstock, who was noble and good and dedicated to the station. She was certain Victor wouldn't walk on rooftops to create news or “borrow” money from local businesses.

She was glad to see how happy Lord and Lady Singer were, too. Their romantic overtures to each other in the plays were the talk of Pittsburgh Village. Sure, they still fought on occasion, but they were mostly insanely in love with each other...and there was the noise they made in their rooms at night to prove it.

“Miss Roberts?” She stood and went to the door. C.J Byrnes, the Inn's messenger boy, held out an envelope to her. “Here's a letter from Mr. Holstrom. Everyone in the Inn got one.”

Elizabeth took the envelope. “Thank you, C.J.” She opened it, her eyes slowly widening with delight as she did. “It's an invitation! Mr. Holstrom inviting everyone at the Inn to Governor Pruitt's masquerade ball! He's a close, personal friend of the Governor. It'll be held at the Governor’s Palace just outside of Pittsburgh Village.” She read it over. “And he even wants the actors and actresses to perform! Eugenia and Mr. Foley will play with the governor’s own orchestra.”

Hilary and Jeff hurried to her door. “Did you get your invitation, Elizabeth? Isn't it exciting? Our first real society ball since my days as the toast of London.” She turned to Jeff. “You'll have to wear that dashing new velvet cape I ordered for you. It makes you look like a musketeer from the French legions. And I'll finally have a reason to take my tiara out of storage.”

Jeff nuzzled her. “You'd look even more beautiful in nothing at all.”

Hilary kissed him. “Save that thought for after the ball.” She turned to Elizabeth. “I know several good seamstresses here in Pittsburgh Village. I might be able to get you something suitable.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Gosh, I didn't even think of what to wear! I'm just excited to be going to a ball!”

Maple nearly ran into Hilary and Jeff as they went off to talk clothes and C.J went to give envelopes to the others. “Ooh lah lah! Elizabeth, it is exciting, oui? I have the perfect number that I will wear. I will be bird in feather dance costume from Fou Del Rouge.” She sighed. “I will be going to ball with Monsieur Bloom. He is tres...how you say it?...courtly. I will have good time with him.”

Scott replaced Maple at the door. “Get your invite to this shindig, Liz? Anyone ask you out?” He made a face. “Did...Doug...ask you?”

Elizabeth sighed. Doug was Douglas Thompson, the sweet lawyer who lived at the Inn when he was in Pittsburgh. He had been courting Elizabeth on and off for a few months. His attentions made Scott very jealous. “No, Scott. Douglas isn't in town. He's in the countryside, dealing with one of his farmer clients.”

“Good.” Scott grinned. “I wanted first dibs on asking you.” He pulled up a chair next to her, turned it around, and sat on it backwards. “Would you like to go with me? I'm not a good dancer, but I'd keep you on your toes.”

“I'm sure you would.” Elizabeth finally nodded. “Yes, Scott, I'll go to the ball with you. You've been such a great help to the Inn. We're almost breaking even now, all because of you.” When you've been here, she mentally added. Scott had the habit of disappearing at the most inopportune times. She'd go to his office, looking for him, and he wouldn't be there...and then he'd turn up a few hours later, asking her to consider his latest harebrained scheme.

“Great, Liz! I'll pick you up on the front porch at 7 PM. Don't be late!” He looked at his silver pocket watch. “Oh, would you look at the time? I have a meeting with your publisher Kurt Holstrom about putting ads for his books on the side of the Inn. Isn't that a great idea? I'll call it 'billboards.'” He was still talking about it on his way out

Elizabeth sighed again as she watched him leave. “I wish that man would stop for more than five minutes and linger! And where have I heard 'Oh, would you look at the time?' before?”

Jeff and Maple met Scott in the hallway. His grin melted into a worried frown. “Are we all goin'?”

Maple nodded. “Oui. The whole staff is going, except for Madame Gertrude et Monsieur Eldridge. They are going to stay and watch Inn.” She looked into his eyes. “Scott, tell us why party is so important?” She smirked. “Other than getting to show off our dancing shoes.”

“I can't keep lying to Hilary about this,” Jeff added. “I think she's already suspicious.”

Scott held out several sheets of paper. “Jeff, those billboards Holstrom asked us to put on the Inn are in code. I recognized it. I worked on codes during the French and Indian War.” He had the dignity to blush. “I was promoting an archery tournament between some of the Indian nations and the British settlers. The settlers claimed it was fixed. So I either broke codes for British spies or spent six months in the jail at Fort Pitt. I got pretty good at it, actually.”

Jeff nodded. “Ok, so it's in code. What does that have to do with anything?”

“The codes,” Scott whispered, “seem to be orders to destroy the ironworks and boat works here in Pittsburgh Village. The ones that provide weapons and transportation for George Washington's soldiers.”

Maple gasped. The two men looked grim. “Why would Holstrom Publishing be involved in sabotage?” Maple asked. “Unless...” She let the thought trail off, unable to even consider it. Kurt Holstrom was one of Pittsburgh's leading publishers, and a major figure in the village. If he was in league with the English, it meant things in little Pittsburgh were far more complicated than previously suspected.

Elizabeth Roberts stepped out of her room. “Scott...what do you mean?”

Scott frowned. “Liz, not to speak ill of your boss, but I think he could be involved in some really big, big news...like sabotage...”

Lady Hilary and Lord Jeffrey Singer's Room, That Afternoon

“Hilary, I don't believe him.” Elizabeth winced as Gertrude stuck another pin into her gossamer gown. “Kurt Holstrom is one of Pittsburgh's most important people! Why would he be a spy?”

Hilary crossed her arms. “Elizabeth, could you get your mind off politics and onto something of vastly more importance to my love life and yours?” She stopped in front of the girl in the white dress. “I know Jeffrey has been sneaking out at night, usually with your beloved rogue Scott Sherwood.”

“He's not my beloved rogue.”

Hilary ignored her protest. “They're up to something. It's not seeing other women. Scott is devoted to you,” she smirked, “and Jeffrey knows if I ever caught him chasing after any woman who wasn't me, I'd castrate him and send him to the seventh and eighth bowels of the nearest hell. Or have I said too much?”

Gertrude rolled her eyes. “They're probably going to the Buttery Tavern down the street to get drunk.”

“No, I don't smell ale on his breath when he gets in.”

Elizabeth fidgeted. “Hilary, what you says does make sense. Scott's acted strangely ever since he's arrived. I wish there was a way we could find out what they're doing.”

Gertrude took the remaining pins out of her mouth. “You could always put them on leashes.”

“Jeff would just chew through his.” Hilary finally stopped. “Elizabeth, we'll have to stick with our men every minute tonight. Let's not leave their sides for a second. If they take off, we follow them.”

Gertrude finally got to her feet. “I don't know why they'd want to leave your sides. You both look amazing.”

She pulled a mirror in front of them to let them look. Hilary preened at the sight of her black and silver gown with the puffed sleeves and enormous, stiff lace collar. The silver and jet tiara sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. Elizabeth was a decided contrast in her ethereal white gown trimmed with ruffles and gossamer wings. A wreath of white roses circled her dark chestnut curls.

“Ooh lah lah,” Maple exclaimed as she came in. “You are tres magnifique!” She wore an enormous gown of red silk trimmed with matching feathers. Feathers bobbed in her red-orange waves. Her daringly low-cut neckline was awash in gold ruffles and lace. She held three masks, one in red, one in white, and one black and silver. “The hommes are waiting on the porch for us. Let's show them a good time!”