Guildhall Guardian: Thamesian #1 (Thamesians) (3 page)

The four tombstones were still, surrounded by green moss and nothing was unordinary.

What could possibly be the problem? With the graves? Nothing. With me? everything, I think.

I detoured and entered the graveyard. It stood right before the Cathedral's opening. The graves were nameless, dark stone and nothing particularly remarkable.

An oblivious pigeon stood over one of them.

Wait, again the grave ajar. It was the corner of the tombstone, which seemed to have moved.

Very disturbing!

Maybe I was fussing over something ridiculous, nobody had noticed anything around here.

I leaned, could not help it, to peek into the grave. It was pitch dark.

This country was really getting on my nerves if I was captivated by morbid things like a slightly wonky tomb.

   It creaked. I nearly jumped far enough to fall flat on the pavement. Something had moved inside, oh my God.

It couldn't be!

I breathed deeply. No it must have been the wind, an old stone rolling in the grave, a rational happening.

This Quarter had something going on. No one would believe my Gothic tale but I could swear it wasn't normal.

Maybe it was all fake, after all Roydon had said he was the PR of the Quarter, maybe he had set up a sort of tourists fright tour, boo, to attract visitors.

Telling myself that it was a well-crafted prop, I headed to the office.

*

  "The pleasure of your company, Brand. Before you ask, I am set to the task, the tracking of the wine delivery is in progress."

His brother had chosen The House, his favourite, empty at all times, luxuriest restaurant of the city. Of course, there he was in familiar territory, not too estranged from his London surroundings and habits.

Brand Thamesian, his younger half-brother, busy trader and part-time club owner.

  "Which means?" Brand asked ,his voice a varnish of cultivated boredom.

  "I am doing my best and utmost. I'm sure you have felt some effects of withdrawal. They are much more potent on me, do you think I want to waste time and keep on remembering?"

  "I've done some investigating too. Seems the delivery has departed on time from Leicestershire and was on its way as usual when the track was lost somewhere along the road."

  "I know that Brand! As far as I know the shipment has made it to Cambridgeshire and then seemed to vanish altogether."

  "I have a man in Cambridge, good lad, I'll make a call.''

  "Anyone in London who will be able to find us some supply?"

  "How the hell would I know Roydon? I'm not sufficiently connected with London's underworld.  Safer to keep the Guild out of the City if you know what I mean.''

  "Allright, allright."

Roydon was always surprised to see how well his brother could get along with humans and blend into their world. He had
friends
for God's sake. 

And of course, otherwise he wouldn't be a Thamesian, he had employees, lackeys, informants, many of them all over the country.

But sadly he was focused on the human side of things.

Brand shoved his Iphone in his face and said "And can you tell me what's that?"

The card's picture. A king of hearts.

  "Gemma's found it. She was worried and with reason. The old way."

  "A message, really? Who uses the cards anymore, when you can email?"

  "It's classical. Someone knew we would read it."

  "And what does it says?"

  "A king enters the Game, unknown threat."

  "You don't appear too much worried. But then Roydon Thamesian must not appear too much
anything
. What are you eating?"

  "Nothing thank you."

  "You should try the filet mignon."

  "I'd rather be drinking."

  "A claret then and filet mignon."

Roydon smiled inadvertently. Brand, however annoying and stuck in his ideals of upper-class normality had occasionally the power to light him up.

  "You spend entirely too much time in the company of humans.''

  "Do you have any news of this brother of ours, up North?"

  "Texted me last week, said he will start as a lecturer at Napier University  in October...Where is the waiter?"

  ''Slowest chap ever. He'd better hurry, the next train to leave this boring town is at two fifty''

  ''What on Earth happened to you, Brand? The train?''

  "It's barely more than one hour commute to London. 1st class of course, I like it."

Roydon's  laughter echoed in the empty dining room.

*

  It could have been a very uneventful day at work. It had started with an agonizing amount of office papers and non-stop calls from distressed citizens. Followed by a mediocre lunch of tuna and lettuce.

Just after three o'clock, while I was trying to reorganize my desk very carefully to create a make-believe working environment, came the mail.

A note, an actual note was delivered to me and as the mailman said "For Gioia Di Terzi'' I attracted curious glances. It was the first time since I worked here there was something for me. I was childishly excited about it.

And when I opened the envelope my heart thumped forth against my ribs, as if it were ready to burst. No way.

Dear Ms. Di Terzi,

Will I have the pleasure of your company tonight? Expect me to pick you up at eight.

Sincerely yours,

R.Thamesian

Nice rhetorical question. So he had no doubts that I would answer yes. Of course no woman in her right mind would blow him off but still...

A panicked buzz invaded my head. I would have to run back home immediately after five, wash my hair, scrub my face and decide what clothes to wear. I did not have any decent shoes to begin with, only sneakers and flats already worn out by too much walking. Shops. At least two of them were on my way back to St-John's Road. Black pumps would go with everything.

  One invitation and he had me overthinking it. Maybe I should just do casual.

   Roydon Thamesian was anything but casual.

Broad-shouldered, voice electric, razor-sharp features, refined and uncasual.

Nothing that qualified for a laid-back date.

*

  And here she was, dressed in a black jumper, a light jacket and grey jeans.  Her blond her was down, tumbling in thick, blond locks and curls. He wanted to see it tousled.

Right after Brand's departure Roydon had surrendered to the irresistible draw and send her a note. He had shut out the gallery and organized a private exhibition just for Gioia.

He wanted her by his side to closure the day. She liked art, was an Art Graduate he had a whole gallery to place at her disposal, convenient right?

*

  Right on cue after I had air-dried my hair and finished to apply the eyeliner, his car was at the door. Okay, I just had to remain focused, cool-headed and not jump to conclusions. 

Seeing him for the second time left me short of breath.

Oh crap, he wore a navy blue blazer over a V-neck tee-shirt, and smiled quite nonchalantly as I approached the car. This man could be a fucking model, even if his features were demesurately sharp, he had one of this faces you see only get a glimpse of in the first row of fashion shows. I tried to smoothe my hair and smiled at him like a fangirl. 

I had to get a grip!

"Did you have a busy day?'' he asked.

"Super boring. Thanks for the letter it made my afternoon. And you?''

"Catching up with my brother. The usual family humdrum."

I could not picture him with a brother. Roydon Thamesian appeared too one of a kind to have relatives, as if he had popped alone on the surface of the Earth.

  "Where are we going?" My curiosity finally outbursting. I had told Mrs. Pickle, my landlady I was going out  in town with a friend. No one would know for sure where I could possibly be. It should've freaked me, it thrilled me.

"Somewhere I thought you would enjoy, being the artistic scoundrel that you are."

"Say it again" I said.

"What?"

"Scoundrel, I like the way it sounds."

Roydon smiled briefly.

"So you're also a vocabularian rogue."

I beamed with delight.

"Why can't people speak like that all the time?"

"I fear you might be five or six centuries late for that. Welcome to the United Kingdom of ASAP. Hail 2014."

"You're old fashioned then not. How do you do this?"

I felt the air between us sizzle with something electric.

"My secret, Ms. Di Terzi.''

*

  He had dismissed the bulk of his bodyguards only to keep his most trustworthy of them, Tennys, who stood by the glass door. The gallery was superbly lit, he could give credits to his manager.

When he had parked before the Guildhall, Gioia's eyes had widened. She did not expect that. Maybe she would deem him an old bore, obsessed by his workplace and prisonner of the Guildhall's walls.

   It wouldn't be untrue.

The light of the porch flickered, he would have to see to that.

  "Welcome to the Guildhall." he said but this time it wasn't strictly business and his voice was hoarser than usual.

He knew the place beguiled her, it had brought them together in the first place.

*

  It was crazy. A private visiting of the Guildhall's art gallery, a place I did not access last time. It was like Christmas morning for me. I passed through the glass door with deference, holding my breath as I stepped into the gallery.

With a perfect perfunctory gesture his bodyguard had handed us glasses of champagne. Roydon Thamesian knew how to welcome his guests.

It was a narrow, long room, seemingly neverending, with Piestistic paintings and artefacts.

Illuminated manuscripts and fresco paintings.

  "As you can see" said Roydon with a gesture of the hand "We own several treasures of the Medieval  and Renaissance periods, here you have a Bayeux Tapestry. Most of them are officially state propierty but I also acquire others personally."

He sounded very posh and very sexy.

  "Legally?"

Yes Roydon Thamesian would be the kind of guy who outlaws the law and buy paintings for his personal profit. He was totally that guy.

  "At some point, in Art dealing and business, money  do outweights legal matters. I am sure you are familiar with the concept. But my goal is to make art affordable and spread it to the public, many children come and visit the gallery."

I nodded, now entranced by a specific piece.

"Oh you have discovered The Werl Triptych."

"Campin's finest work. And you have it with its center panel."

I extended the hand, completely drooling before this altarpiece, it has been one of my favourite of all times since the beginning of my College studies.

To have it before my eyes, within reach was unbelievable. I wanted to feel it.

Roydon's hand caught my wrist gently.

  "Can't touch, you scoundrel."

Oh my, I had forgotten the most basic law of them all.

  "Sorry. Got carried away."

Blushing from my blunder, I felt the pressure of Roydon's fingers sear my skin.

He didn't remove his hand. His skin was cool and nice to the touch.

We locked eyes for a brief moment and I let my imagination go berserk thinking he was about to back me against the wall. His amber eyes were flickered with green dust. His darker stubble was contouring his lips and his set, chiselled jaw.

His phone buzzed and he immediately let go of my hand.

Whoever was calling him had very interesting news for him because it had him absorbed to the point of tension, his face handsomely stern.

    "Right. Very well, I am on it immediately." He said before hanging up quickly.

    "Something important coming up?" I asked.

*

  Brand's Cambridge informant had proved efficient after all, finding a mortal hacker prodigy who had caught an emitting signal from the wine delivery.  When Roydon had it tracked down, it stopped near Cambrigde, but the guy had caught a very poor signal much closer. The signal had not moved or diminished for 4 hours, it would mean one the delivery lorries had been stopped.  Warwick Castle. The bloody wine was doing his own tourist visit in Warwick.

He looked at Gioia who stood watching him, expecting an explanation. She was so beautiful as a temptation, he had almost snapped. He was dying to give in and latch his hands into her hair and kiss her until the break of day.

But he couldn't, not now.