Daughter on his Doorstep (HC #2)

14: Marrón Roll Yes

As they entered daylight, a sharp wind whipped down the lane, tossing Lupe's filthy tresses and setting the hair on her arms on end. As she wrapped her arms around herself, Thomas shrugged out of his coat, draping the heavy material around her shoulders.

She smiled at him. "Gracias."

After that, Lupe didn't speak for a long time. Not when they hailed a hackney and Thomas helped her inside, not when the view from the window transitioned from the docks to the centre of the city. She just watched with wide eyes and held Thomas' coat tightly around herself. Matt paid the driver when the coach pulled to a stop, and Thomas escorted Lupe into the inn they were lodging in. Each man had taken a room – coincidentally, they neighboured each other – and without pausing to even acknowledge the startled innkeeper, Thomas ushered Lupe up the stairs and into his.

The girl moved to the centre of the room, before turning in one slow circle. Her expression was no less than awestruck as she admired the mediocre furnishings and mildly-well maintained carpet. She flinched at the sound of the door closing, relaxing only slightly when she saw it was just Matthew entering. She rubbed her arms through the coat.

Thomas moved forward slowly. "Sit, Lupe, please," he instructed cautiously, directing her to an armchair near the fireplace. He stepped towards it, but Matt interceded.

"I'll light it," he offered quietly.

Instead, Thomas squatted down beside the chair Lupe was perched in, bringing their eyes to a similar height. "Lupe," he said softly, "I need you to tell me more about the men who took your friends. I want to help you all but-"

Lupe was distracted, glancing between him and whatever Matt was doing.

"Everything alright, Matt?" he asked, perhaps a little too sharply, without turning.

The younger man let out a muffled curse. "I can't find the damn flint. The maid who turned the room over must have taken it with her."

Thomas sighed. "Try along the edges of the brickwork. Feel for a shelf or the like."

There was a moments pause, filled only with the sound of shuffling. Then a surprised grunt. "How did you know it-"

"Vincent," was all the answer he offered.

That caught Lupe's attention, and she fixed her gaze back on Thomas. "Vincente?"

Thomas' legs were beginning to ache as much as his brain. He grabbed the leg of a low-set table nearby, tugging it closer before taking a seat atop it. He smiled gently at Lupe.

"Yes, sí. Vincent and I want-" Matt coughed. "- and Matt. We all want to help you. You and Abrienda and the others." He leant forward, elbows resting on his knees and hands clasped between them. "But in order for us to help you, we need to know more about the men that took them."

Lupe never looked away, and he took that as a good sign. Eventually, she let out a heavy sigh and nodded.

Progress! Thomas tried not to look to excited. "Who took the others?"

Lupe took a quick, short breath. "El jefe y el hombre feo."

Neither man could be sure, but it sounded similar to what she'd said earlier. "Alright," Thomas saw no sense in admitting he couldn't understand, "and what do they look like?"

"El jefe es..." she tugged one lip between her teeth. Suddenly she grabbed Thomas' arm, running her fingers across the skin on the back of his arms. "¡Marrón!"

Thomas frowned. "Marrón? Maroon?" He threw a look over his shoulder to Matt who was just stoking the fire to light. "What colour is maroon?"

The younger man raised his brows. "I don't know – purple?"