Tiffany Cotton was not who she said she was.
The peculiar woman had shown up in Ravensfield one night, wielding a pistol with a familiarity that odd, run-of-the-mill spinsters shouldn't know how to do. She was bizarrely intelligent, wore gowns that...
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Fourteen
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
His captive made a series of unladylike grunts in appeal to the surly constable, who seemed to recognise her - Miss Hawkins - while she yanked futilely against his hold.
"I have brought this woman to be apprehended and interrogated," Kaede informed the man, a note of import hardening his voice.
If it had any effect on the authority in the room, neither constable nor wriggling woman seemed phased by it. If anything, he was being ignored outright.
Another sigh left the constable before he set aside his pen and reclined back into his chair with an audible groan of weary leather. "Why?" he drawled laconically, levelling a bored look at Kaede.
The woman squirming against his hold stopped and turned to him, raising an eyebrow pointedly as if to coax him to explain. Annoyed, Kaede pushed her into a nearby chair and stayed a hand on her shoulder to remind her not to attempt an escape. Her wild hair tangled with his fingers, ribbons of hellfire that felt like silk encasing his wrist.
"This woman has been residing at Ravensfield for more than a fortnight using a false identity," Kaede began, his words clipped. "Miss Tiffany Cotton. She had us all deceived in order to avail of an opportunity to inflict harm on one of the occupants. Miss... Cotton was caught by myself this very evening snooping through Lord Ravensfield's personal correspondence within his private study."
A look of mild interest quirked the constable's brows at that and his gaze returned to the woman before him. "Did she now?" he mused, though the sound was introspective and hardly warranted a response. More directly, he asked, "Is this true, Miss Hawkins?"
Vehemently, she shook her head, hair tumbling every which way.
"Hmm," the constable mused. "I didn't think so."
"Excuse me?" Kaede demanded, indignant. It appeared the majority of humans had taken leave of their common sense if a conclusion could so easily be drawn from a nonverbal gesture.
The man's dark, intrigued eyes now switched back up to Kaede. "Well, do you believe Miss Hawkins has probable cause for such an intent? It seems like quite a far-stretch to assume a renowned actress like herself would have any cause to harbour ill-will to a family like the Ravensfields. It seems quite a serious accusation for someone who is not close to the family, yet is very well-known around these parts, isn't it? Unless I am mistaken, and you all have known of Miss Hawkins for quite some time."
"Believe me," Kaede grumbled, "this is the first time I am aware of who Miss Hawkins is."
"Ah," the constable intoned sagely, nodding his head, "so then you wouldn't know that Miss Isabella Hawkins is one of the most affluent thespians London has ever beheld? Her notoriety stretches far and wide, which would make for such devious intentions to such a notorious family... problematic."
