catch them with honey

[Reuben Slade]

Tag: Clara Honeyfield

better terrible truths

THAN KIND LIES

Slade had just been exiting one of his owned establishments, having a rather . . . intense conversation with an associate he had lent money to. Fortunately, he received what was owed. Stepping out into the crowded streets, with a guard on either side of him, he began to make his way down the side of the road. They were forced to park the carriage a bit further away due to some special market that was taking place. It made the crowd larger than usual, causing Slade to do what he could to keep a suitable distance between him . . . and well, everyone else. Uncomfortable with any touch, though prepared for such situations, his only exposed skin was his face. The rest of him completely covered, which was most fortunate with the amount of people brushing against him in this thick sea of them. Leaning on his cane as he took each step, he felt something at his side.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

It was not the simple brushing of a shoulder. This, felt rather . . . intentional. Slade, one to trust his instincts, sharply turned his head to see a boy start to push through the crowd. The crime lord immediately extended his cane, whipping it around so that it served as a barrier to the boy, and any step forward; acting as a barricade of sorts. With the cane blocking any forward advancements for the boy, Slade began to push the cane back, thus pushing the boy closer to him as his gaze dropped to him. "Turn around." A natural authority in his voice that would dare not be defied. The boy made no attempt to object either, as he slowly turned to gaze up at Rueben, wide eyed. Clearly, he knew he was caught.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Slade extended his gloved hand expectantly as he lowered the cane to his side once more. "B-But Sir, I didn't take any--" Slade cast him a look that immediately silenced the boy. Hanging his head low, the young lad reached into his pocket, holding out the pouch of money that he had taken from Rueben. Slade proceeded to return it in his pocket, when he heard another voice. "You there!" A man rushed towards them, out of breath. "This boy stole from me as well!" Rueben looked between the man and the boy, the boy who vehemently disagreed with the accusation. Instead of letting this argument continue, Slade looked at the accusing man, stepping in front of him so to have his focus entirely on him.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

"I will handle this." His words dismissive and left no option for further inquiry. Though he was irritated, the man left and Rueben turned back to the young boy. Truly realizing, just how young he was. "Take me to where you live," he instructed. Was the boy living on the streets? Was he poor? Slade wanted to know who's family this boy belonged to, that would dare be so bold as to steal from him. The walk to the house was not far . . . and it was a house indeed. Before the boy reached for the handle, Slade shook his head and clenched his hand into a fist, knocking on the door of this boy's apparent residence.

[Clara Honeyfield]

Life was not easy when one had more siblings then time in the day to keep in hand. By thanks that some of them rather read or play in the garden--some other ones however, where harder to keep up with. Clara had also just revived word that the companion to a widow position she had wanted was now taken. Once again, she had not been given a job that would let her leave the house and still help the family.

As they had no servants, other than a cook and upstairs maid (two positions that were thankfully paid for by her grandfather, rather then her father), when the knock came--it was Clara who answered it. She sat a few books, and some mending that she carried down on the center table, before moving to the room and opening it with a wide smile. "Good day--"

Only to have the smile catch at the sight of a displeased looking man--and Harry. With a disappointed sigh, she reached for her brother, and lightly pulled him in and pasted her. This both managed to man her brother face her--and put herself between the upset gentleman and her younger brother. While done without though about it. "Harry," She chided before turning to face the stranger. "Apologies, sir, for whatever my younger brother has done." This time. With that comment, her eyes cut from the stranger to her brother, who then hung his head. "Might I ask what happened?" Clearly this was not the first time.

Harry often got in trouble playing with her friends. Either they were chasing animals, or running in the street. Thankfully nothing serious.

Reuben Slade

[Reuben Slade]

Tag: Clara Honeyfield

better terrible truths

THAN KIND LIES

When a young woman opened the door, her smile almost immediately faltering at the sight of the boy, she ushered him in and then apologized on his behalf. As well as revealing his name. Slade took in every detail, including the state of their home. They did not look impoverished to the point of living on the streets, or in a one bedroom house. And yet, they did not seem to be living in over indulgence either. It made Slade wonder if the boy's actions were ones born of desperation of boredom. The latter would indeed be quite foolish. His gaze dropped to the boy, now identified as Harry, before he rose his eyes to meet that of the woman, now identified as his sister.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

He initially ignored her question, deciding that he was more intrigued in finding out about this family. A family who had a young boy who pickpocketed, a sister who opened the door herself and . . . judging from what he could faintly hear, the two of them were not the only ones in residence. "What is your family name?" He inquired; should she wish to give her Christian name too, she was free to however he was more interested in the family name. First names were irrelevant; it was the last name that would reveal far more. His voice was not angered, but composed. "I should like to know the family to which this young boy belongs to." And he did not want to have to ask again. "One so bold as to attempt theft." Because, Slade doubted that his pocket was the first one the boy's hand had found. Then again, he was not practiced in it enough to do it with swift skill. So perhaps, it was not an activity he partook in frequently, or for a lengthy period of time.

[Clara Honeyfield]

Clara blinked, but smiles politely when he instead asked another question. While he was not yelling, she assumed he was going to want to speak to her father. Whom was not at home. Which was just as well, the care of the children fell to her as her parents were concerned with their appearance in society. Clara knew they meant well, they did love their children. Sometimes she just felt they did not understand what children needed.

Before she could reply to his question, he relieved what Harry had done. Turning to look at her brother for a moment, the boy's head fell and the shoulder dropped. He knew he had disappointed her. "Thieving? Harry!" She did not yell, but her tone rose in pitch. Turning back to the stranger. "What did he steal?" She asked knowing she had yet to answer the first question, but there was the more important question here. "I am Miss Honeyfeild, and this is my brother Harry," Children did not yet go by Mister.

Reuben Slade