She'd flustered him. Somehow she seemed to be doing that rather consistently today.

Bane found himself pretending to look out a window that was so covered in smoke and filth there would've been nothing to see in broad daylight, much lest this time of night. But the alternative was to turn back and be forced to speak to her again, which he was not fond of either.

She was without a doubt the one who'd written the letters. He'd had the fleeting daydream that perhaps it was the other Georgina Marie who had written to him, who he'd grown so fond of... who he'd nearly admitted to being in love with.

Instead, George seemed to confirm with every word out of her mouth, that She'd been the girl writing to him all along. The thought burned his pride... he'd said things, referred to shared memories that would have been meant for Georgina Marie - the other Georgina Marie - and George would've known that, Couldn't have missed it.

But instead of telling him, or pointing out his mistake, She'd gone ahead and tricked him into matrimony. Fists tightening in his leather gloves, Bane squeezed his eyes shut again a pounding headache that was growing just behind his eyes. He Couldn't think about this now, not now with Geoffrey murdered, and his locomotive carriage lost.

"I'll be back directly," he grumbled an excuse and made for the door trying not to look too hurried as he effectively tucked tail and ran away from his wife on their wedding night.

But then he opened the flimsy wooden door and the sound of a bar fight reached his ears. TOrn once again, his anger grew ever more, turning back to George he barked the order that was meant only as a safety precaution.

"Don't open this door for anyone but me!" he nearly shouted, glowering at her. She looked back at him mid drink over the goblet of cheap wine.

Her large brown eyes staring at him, but then fear crept into her expression. Bane felt his gut clench.

He'd frightened her. Not that it should matter, everyone was frightened by him... only he hadn't been trying to scare the girl at that particular moment.

"WHy?" she breathed the word, setting down the goblet, eyes still round on him, "WHat's out there?" she asked in a tiny voice and Bane realized he'd frightened her towards the inn, instead of himself.

With a shot of relief coming through his chest, all he could think to do was shrug apathetically.

"You're married to the Bear now," he reassured her, "No one will harm you," he promised, this time managing to get his voice out a little less harshly, "But just wait until I come back to open the door alright?" he added again... why was he bargaining with her now?

"Why?" she repeated, the fear ebbing and curiosity coming to the edges of her expression. Curiosity was the most dangerous thing you could find in a woman.

"Just listen to me would you?" Bane barked the words before stamping out and slamming the door behind him.

There in the hallway was the innkeeper's boy again, coming down from the flight above them, more firewood in hand. Bane reached out and took hold of him by the shirt collar.

"You -" he ordered, shoving the youth against the doorway he'd just vacated himself, "No one goes in, no one comes out until I return - am I understood?" Bane growled low, hoping George would not be able to hear exactly what he was saying.

THe boy just nodded, his lips pressed tightly together, and his face going pale. Bane hesitated for a moment, wondering if the boy could be trusted to watch George or if he would end up a danger himself in such a situation.

Vasilating for only a moment longer, Bane reached into his coin belt and brought out a silver piece, flipping it, he let it sparkle midair, just under the boy's nose.

"Do as I say and there's another when I get back," Bane added, letting the coin fall into the boy's outstretched hands. The lad smiled, through the grime on his face and nodded emphatically.

Satisfied that George would stay put for at least another half of an hour, Bane made his way downstairs, to get a drink and await the magistrate. He didn't have to wait long.

"YOu are Lord Brisbane?" the think man with a solemn face asked, he was dressed all in black, giving the impression of a holy man except for his tricornered hat. Bane only nodded, offering the stranger a seat at the table he'd landed in himself.

"I am sorry to tell you that when I returned to the scene, your vehicle has been stripped for parts, and if you were previously traveling with any luggage, it is long gone now."

"And what of the boy's body?" Bane asked, thinking again of how he was going to tell Geoffrey's sister and her husband who worked for him when they returned to the mountain.

Surprise passed over his companion's features, but then was hidden away just as quickly.

"I have sent him to the caretaker, milord," the magistrate reassured him, his voice dropping into a more respectful tone as he spoke of the dead, "We will see that he is returned home properly."

"And what of the thieves?" Bane asked, taking a swig of beer to clear the sudden lump in his throat.

"Uh... I am afraid I have nothing," the magistrate answered, his expression now one of true regret since discovering that Bane was at least a little bit human, "As I said, anything that could be scrapped of the vehicle is already gone."

"Did you check the compartment under the seat?" Bane asked, a sudden, horrible ghost of a thought coming to his mind.

The magistrate looked momentarily puzzled, then shook his head, "Where is it now?" he asked next, after a short glance towards the staircase. He'd promised George he would not leave her... but there was that nagging suspicion again.

"We've brought it into the yard for you milord," the magistrate seemed relieved to be able to give a favorable answer, but Bane was feeling more grim by the second.

"I'll need to see it," he stated, rising from his seat and making for the door. Going into the yard would not count as abandoning his bride, and he had the most awful feeling that he would find one thing in particular missing.

"See what, milord?" asked the magistrate, following quickly after him.

"I might be able to tell you who's done this after all."

****

An hour later, Bane was trudging back up the stair of the dingy inn, a heavy weight at the center of his chest where some humans claimed their heart lived.

Bane was nearly certain it was widely spread rumor that he did not posess one. True or not, he felt the weight of his discovery in that exact location of his body, heavy and festering like a wound that Couldn't and would not be forgotten.

When he reached the landing he found the innkeeper's boy leaning against the door, snoring. Rolling his eyes, Bane at least was thankful for the mercy of lazy overfed youth who would be hard to sneak past either in or out once they'd decided to use their weight as the doorstop.

KIcking him once in the foot, the boy woke, startling when he saw the dark countenance of Bane before him.

"Bring more wood," Bane ordered, the ring of that second silver piece echoing behind him as he entered the room. With a sigh of regret he realized it was cold now... the light from the fire grate was nearly gone and the shadows had grown to darkness instead now.

Pulling out his lighter, Bane threw three more shovels of coal into the stove, damning the expense come morning, lest they freeze to death and never survive to see it.

THough the tellings grayness that bathed the sky outside the dirty window warned that morning had already arrived, and he hadn't slept a wink.

Turning to the bed, he realized it was empty, and his eyes moved just as swiftly to the chair where he'd left his ill gotten little wife a few hours past.

She'd fallen asleep sitting up, her cheek leaned against one of the chair's wings, otherwise she sat perfectly proper, and without moving from when he'd left.

Bane knew She'd wake soon, but he took the moment to observe her. In the chaos of the con and the travel, he'd purposefully worked not to look her in the face too often or else she might think he pitied her and wanted to hear more of her pitiful story.

He'd met others like her, all with a sad story and a perfectly heartbreaking reason for deceiving whoever it was they were stealing from at the moment.

The fire glowed warmer now, and the light danced against her cheek. She was thin, though given the meagerness of her uncle's house, that didn't surprise him. Her face was shaped like a heart...

Georgina Marie St. John had the face of an angel, without angle or disproportion, perfect in every way so much that you didn't even think of the shape.

But George instead had a sharp little chin, a pert little mouth and round dimpled cheeks. Her brow was split by a widow's peak hairline, giving her a more puckish air than what was fashionable for young ladies nowadays.

She shifted in her sleep and Bane froze, wondering if she would catch him staring. He held his breath for a long moment but George didn't move again.

Continuing his appraisal he took note of the worn shoes, faded dress and poor excuse for a coat, which she was still wearing. Heaving a sigh, Bane shrugged out of his own greatcoat, and draped the thing across George so that it hung awkwardly over the each arm of the chair and covered her feet completely.

Her face had been in a pinched expression, but the warmth from the coat seemed to ease this.

Bane hadnt' bothered to ask the magistrate about annulment procedure... he would trust no one but the family solicitor about it. The very last thing he needed was for the world to know that the Bear of the North could be conned by a mere girl living in an attic and some letters.

But he refused again to think of those letters as he left for the window, once again uncomfortable... she was so very gifted at that.

HIs suspicions about the robbery had been confirmed with the theft of one item in particular... the old family grail.

Written painstakingly out by a monk somewhere in the mountains a thousand years earlier, it was a gift passed on by each generation to the other, meant to bring blessing and luck. Bane himself was more superstitious than he liked to say... and more foolish than he ever wanted to admit.

He carried it with him, for good luck during travel... but he'd worked painstakingly to have it disguised as an altogether ordinary toom labeled practical herbology, hidden in a secret compartment within the secret compartment of his personal carriage.

Few people knew of the grail's significance or monetary worth, fewer still knew that Bane traveled nowhere without it. And the number of people who would know just where to find it hidden within it is slide hook compartment at the very bottom of the under the seat compartment, slipped in longways so that is went alongside the wooden slates of the carriage's body...

well... there were only two other people who knew that... and one of them was quite dead.

So indeed, what at first had appeared a simple highway robbery, common on the roads at night, now looked to be the work of a darker secret, come to haunt him.

Already uncomfortable having to travel without the relic, Bane did not want to imagine having to confess it is loss to his grandmother upon his return home to Brisbane. She was more fearsome than he by a thousand times.

But even Mary Kathleen and Joshua would know immediately, when he told them where he'd hidden it, how surgically it had been removed from the vehicle... everyone would know it was Malcolm who'd stolen it...

or Cora come back from the dead.