Archive of Our Own ^beta

Outwardly, Miss Argent was respectable, polite, and easy to overlook. In a crowd, she tended to recede. That suited her just fine.

 She had somewhat stagnated in the ranks. She had an advantage in a technically important cousin, but that was all. Still, she had a keen interest in history, politics, and the justice system- and that had been her gateway to a world that a respectable, polite young lady should’ve avoided.

 Her cousin had been reluctant at first but- well, he wasn’t exactly built for the law empire he’d inherited. Charles Devineaux was on an ‘extended trip’ away from his home in Paris after one too many clients complained about broken carriages.

 She knew he needed her wits. And so did he.

 He didn’t make it easy, but he eventually allowed her to smuggle, and write, and occasionally accompany him on missions. Granted, she was more of a cover story than an active participant, but it worked. No-one paid them much attention, especially her.

 Julia decided to put her greatest weakness to use.

 For a good long while, she got away with it. Demure in a navy dress at every event, she kept her eyes and ears on the coming and goings of the aristocracy. 

 She learned about schemes and fraud and illegitimate children- she learned about hired thugs and hidden gold and bribes- she learned about weaknesses and strengths and who could be trusted-

 And she did all of it with no-one sparing her a glance.

 Until one evening when an uproar started over the arrival of a new noblewoman.

 Julia happened to be in the right place at the right time to collect intel. There was no telling whether the newcomer would be friend or foe.

 Apparently, she was a fabulously wealthy orphan from Europe. No-one knew exactly where, or who her family was, or anything about her for that matter.

 She had apparently decided to move to England, living in a red-brick townhouse with no-one but her servants. 

 To add intrigue, she only had three, and seemed much more inclined to treat them as social equals. A lady’s maid, footman, and bodyguard weren’t the kind of people they expected her to pass the time of day with.

 The intrigue only grew for Julia Argent.

 One night, she attended a gala. She was barely allowed to be there, but her cousin had pulled a few strings. Ostensibly, it was so she could catch the eye of a lord or two. 

 She had more pressing engagements to tend to, but went through the motions anyway. Smile, nod, sip wine. No-one was paying much attention to her, and that suited her just fine. 

 How ironic, that when she was ‘attempting to catch someone’s eye’, someone should catch hers.

 Miss Julia Argent would be lying if she said a lady had never caught her eye before. The key difference was that none ever looked back.

 The newcomer was head to toe in red, with matching hair and a permanently quirked mouth. And when she saw Julia staring, she stared right back.

 Turning as scarlet as her non-acquaintance’s ensemble, she hastened to join a dance. She swapped partners multiple times and remembered none of their names or faces.

 Afterwards, she escaped to the darkest corner of the room and sat heavily on a bench. God, she wished she didn’t have to simper at quite so many noblemen.

 The dancers moved, and someone slipped away. The lady from earlier sauntered over, and sat beside Julia.

 ‘Good evening.’ She said casually.

 ‘Lovely party, don’t you think?’ Julia went back to her script.

 ‘Hmm, a bit overblown for my taste. Not to mention the scandal my being here is causing.’

 ‘Oh! You’re-’

 ‘Lady Catherine Blacksheep. A pleasure to meet you, Miss…?’

 ‘Argent. Julia Argent.’

 ‘The dimwitted lawyer’s young cousin? Colour me shocked.’

 She laughed, taken aback by her honesty. ‘He has his moments of intelligence, though I fear they’re few and far between.’

 Julia thought she’d perfected the art of gathering information about someone’s person without being noticed. This time, however, she was sure Lady Blacksheep could sense her staring. And she was doing it as well. Brazenly.

 She judged the lady to be about her age, maybe a tad younger. In an age where fair, white skin was prized, it was almost strange to see another young lady so swarthy. Julia rarely received compliments, but when she did, it was usually about her complexion.

 It wasn’t even sunny enough for the young ladies to frantically tie sunbonnets around their chins. Maybe she had some mixed ancestry? That alone would cause a stir, even with her riches.

 She’d definitely been gazing for too long. She met the lady’s eyes and blushed furiously, but she only smirked back.

 ‘Terribly sorry, but I need to depart quickly.’ Lady Blacksheep reached out and adjusted the comb in Julia’s hair. ‘Save a dance for me, next time?’

 Then she left as suddenly as she came. Julia remembered the fleeting fingers against her scalp, and shivered in delight.

-

 A mere week later, Julia was running surveillance on a smuggling ring. She was stationed at an inn window, looking at a tall, stone wall. With any luck, she’d get a good look at their suspect.

She’d chosen her night carefully. Full moon, empty streets, and a high vantage point. They wouldn’t escape her notice.

 In the end, the suspect wasn’t even trying to. They were head to toe in red again. Such a bright, expensive colour for a smuggler ? It made no sense.

 It happened so fast she barely had time to register it. The suspect, in a sweeping red coat, tight breeches, and a wide hat, shimmied over the wall and dropped gracefully to the other side. There was pandemonium on the other side, with what sounded like a violent quarrel.

 Clearly, whoever was in pursuit of the red one couldn’t scale the wall, and went around. 

 The suspect looked around, then up. They saw Julia. 

 With a speed and agility that Miss Argent previously believed to be impossible, they scaled the wall of the inn. They swung into the open window next door, and Julia raced to the other room.

 ‘Who are you?’ She called, hardly expecting an answer.

 Instead, the other stopped mid-climbing out the back window. They turned to look directly at her, and she gasped in recognition.

 ‘You can call me Carmine, Jules.’

 Then she swung out onto a neighbouring roof, and disappeared into the night. 

 What in the world?