Mr Masters left for work at eight every morning and didn't return until the early evening, when the sun became a soft purple haze. Kit took to watching him from the window. He listened to the purr of the engine when it left the curb in the bright morning light and welcomed the sound upon its return. Each time he heard the engine, he longed to be in that driver's seat, but he had to be patient.

He noticed how smoothly everything ran in the Masters' household, details he knew would be important when the chance to leave finally presented itself. What he didn't know was just where Mr Masters kept the jewellery box or the key to the Rolls Royce. That was where he hoped Emily might come in.

She had taken to visiting him when her father left. Emily snuck around the servants, avoided anyone who might inform on her, and kept Kit company in the long, drawn out days trapped in that room. He hoped to build the trust between them until she told him where he might find the key and the ring.

"What is your interest in my father's motorcar?" Emily asked one morning. As usual, she had slipped into Kit's room after Mr Masters had left for the day. "He's seen you looking out the window."

"Who says I was looking at the motorcar? Maybe I was just looking at the sunrise and sunset."

"Just as my father leaves for the day? You are not a very convincing liar, Mr Jones."

"Just call me Kit. Mr Jones was my old man." He shook his head. "As for the motorcar, I just think it's neat. Most people I see drive a Ford."

"Father likes to show off. That is his fatal flaw. He's also rather old-fashioned. He's one of those people that still thinks women are weak and shouldn't have been allowed to be voted into Parliament."

"And what do you think?"

"That he's full of nonsense. He hates the idea that I am capable of making my own decisions or meeting with people on my own terms rather than the rules he put in place."

"So that's why you keep breaking in here. Rebelling against your father. Here I was, thinking it was for my company."

Emily laughed. Kit noticed the way her eyes lit up when she laughed. He was still intrigued by her, but her comments about her father made a lot more sense to him. Rebelling against parents had been Kit's speciality for his entire life. It made Emily that much more interesting and gave them something Kit never imagined they would have; a commonality.

His intention had been to use Emily. All he wanted was the ring and the key to the Rolls Royce, but she captured his interest in a way he never expected. Kit had never been someone who made friends easily and often acted alone when he could. His relationships with Rob and the others were for business purposes. They told him what jobs they had, and Kit joined them for a cut of the profit.

That wasn't the case with Emily.

They might have only known each other for a few days, but there was an ease between them that he never expected. Kit might have gone as far as to say he would miss her when he made his escape, not that he would ever say it aloud. He'd never been the soft sort.

"And what of you? You don't often speak of yourself."

"There ain't much for me to say." Kit shrugged, moving his leg on the bed and trying not to react to the pain that he had begun to ignore. "Don't see my folks if I can help it."

"Oh. What about the ring? Was it for someone special?"

Emily stared at him with a small furrow in her eyebrows. Kit wondered if there was a little disappointment hiding behind them at whatever the answer might be. The thought made him smile, at least a little.

"Might have been," he lied. "Thought if I had it, I might be more likely to settle down. Though I reckon it might have better usage in a pawn shop than in my pocket."

She relaxed a little. "You never know what the future holds."

"Maybe not, but I ain't exactly the settling down type. Could do with the money, though."

"Money cannot buy you everything."

"No, but it makes things a hell of a lot easier. You've spent your life with money. You don't know what it's like to go without."

"That doesn't mean it has been easy." Emily stood up from the bed where she had been perched for the better part of an hour. She ran her hands over the front of her dress to smooth out some non-existent wrinkles. "I should go."

"I didn't mean it like that. I just—"

"—It doesn't matter. Mrs Johnson will be coming up soon and she'll tell Father if she catches me."

Emily looked at Kit again, though she failed to meet his eye, and walked out of the room. Kit sighed. He ran his hands over his face and pressed his back against the stack of pillows propped up behind him. Tact was another one of his fatal flaws. He always spoke before he had the chance to think things through, his mouth running faster than his mind, and it landed him in hot water.

Kit wasn't sure why he was bothered by Emily's sudden departure, but he didn't want to think about it. His visit to their house was supposed to be short-lived. He didn't plan on getting attached to anyone who lived there, least of all her. He pushed those feelings down, trying to focus on the task at hand. If Emily was mad at him, he would never be able to get the keys or the ring back.

Yet no matter how hard he tried to ignore those feelings, they remained. The ring and the key to the Rolls Royce were important, but he hated to think that he'd insulted the one person who was just being nice to him.

Kit stared at the door, wondering if she was going to come back, but he stayed alone in the bedroom until the dusty purple light streamed in through the window and the Rolls Royce pulled up outside the house.

Always like clockwork.

~~~

First Published - February 3rd, 2024