Trouble is Brewing by Kate Valent

Author:Kate Valent [Kate Valent]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Valiant Ink
Published: 2023-10-24T00:00:00+00:00

The address on the flyer wound up being the basement of a seedy pub down the road. People milled in and out as Bertram and Laoise rode past. A stark contrast to the rest of the town. If the snow kept any customers away, it didn’t show in the dense crowd.

“Now listen,” said Bertram as he climbed down from the sleigh, keeping his head down. “If you're going to be betting on me, we can't be seen talking to one another. If anyone thinks these fights are fixed, we'll be in trouble.”

Laoise nodded. For once his scheming made sense. “I'll go in ahead of you to get a feel for the crowd. Maybe find out something about the other fighters.”

“We'll also need disguises.” Bertram stroked his chin. “Roger is already in pursuit. Who knows who else my uncle sent after us.”

“Oh please.” Laoise waved a dismissive hand. “Your uncle wouldn't be able to pick me out of his soup. Maids are used to blending into the background.”

“I'm used to being noticed. Particularly by people I'd rather not have notice me.” Bertram stopped in front of a particularly shiny window. He pulled a pen and ink from his pocket. With his attention riveted to his reflection, he wrote tiny runes above his upper lip. One mumbled spell under his breath later and a glamoured mustache appeared. He tweaked the glamour, shaping it with his skilled hands. He gave the ends one final twirl.

“Do you do this often? You seem rather…experienced with it.” The mustache didn’t suit him. She preferred him clean shaven.

Bertram frowned. “I’ve never been able to grow a mustache well. The hair is always too patchy. This one will help disguise me.”

“The only thing that mustache is disguising is your upper lip.” With his prominent chin and jaw line, it was obvious who he was. No one looking for him would be fooled.

He struck a pose. “I think it looks rather manly. I daresay I give off the air of a proper boxer.”

“I suppose,” she said, more to end the conversation than to agree.

Laoise went in ahead of Bertram into the basement. Based on the blood stains and scuff marks on the floor, this was far from the first fight the pub had seen. Nothing but chalk marked the fighting ring. Despite the early hour, a surprising amount of men had shown for the fight, along with more than a few working women.

Bertram strolled in a minute later, surveying the room. Nonchalantly, he approached Laoise, whispering to her. “Where do I sign up to fight?”

Laoise was already milling about the room, her back to Bertram pretending not to hear his request. With a subtle gesture, she cleared her throat and pointed to a man sitting behind a small, worn desk. She’d heard enough chatter to know he was the organizer of the fights.

“Excellent. We’ll be out of here in time to catch the train and with full pockets too.”

The man looked up as Bertram swaggered forward.

“Name?” asked the man, writing things down on a messy pile of papers.

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