Chapter 2

Maeve

" I remember going to London for the Season when I was your age," Gwen said wistfully as she helped Maeve to pack. "What a joyous time it was. Balls, assemblies, new faces, happy people everywhere."

"It is nice to see you smile so," Maeve said sweetly as she pulled some of her gowns out of the wardrobe and laid them out on the bed, where her mother was sitting. Gwen picked up each dress one at a time, folding them carefully before laying them in one of the portmanteaus.

"It is nice to have a reason to smile," Gwen said as she laid a hand on the gowns.

Recently, Maeve had seen how much their money troubles had upset her mother. Where Peter was able to always find a laugh and a reason to smile, Gwen worried more. Even now, she fiddled with one of the gowns incessantly before lifting her head for Maeve to see there were tears in her eyes.

"Mama! What is wrong?" Maeve cried, reaching for her mother's hand.

"I am sorry. I am being silly." Gwen sniffed and tried to stop her tears from falling, waving a hand in the air as if dismissing her own foolishness. "It is your clothes, Maeve. I wish we could have bought you some new things to take to London."

"Mama, do not worry about such things." Maeve knew the best way to cheer her mother's spirits was not to dwell on the bad but to be happy. She leaned forward and kissed her mother on the cheek before moving to stand again and hurrying to pack. "I hardly care for such things, and you know I am not one to follow fashion so closely. For instance, who would wish to wear those ornate feathers in their hair as some do in London?"

"It is the height of fashion!" Gwen said eagerly.

"Yes, but it does also make a lady resemble a cockatoo." Her words brought a hearty laugh from her mother, dispelling the tears. Pleased with her triumph, Maeve collected her jewelry box from her desk, peeling back the lid to look inside. The jewelry was simple, but it was all she needed. "I do not need fine or expensive things to be happy, Mama. I am happy with what I have."

"I know," Gwen said with a sigh. "Since you were little, you have always been happy as long as you had access to paper and ink."

"True." Maeve turned to the notebooks and errant scraps of paper beside her jewelry box, collecting them together.

"Never have you been so happy as when you are lost in your own world of creation. It is something I envy you for."

"You do?" Maeve said, looking up sharply to see her mother was staring into the distance.

"The ability to escape the woes of the world by the imagination alone? Oh, yes, it is a thing to envy. A great thing indeed." Gwen seemed to brush off her sadness, turning back to look at Maeve with a sudden smile. "Come, pass them to me and I'll help pack them for you."

"Thank you," Maeve said, passing the notebooks into her mother's hand. As she stood beside Gwen, helping her to pack, Maeve resolved on something.

Her writing was not only a way for her to escape the woes of this world. It could be a way to help her mother and father escape such troubles permanently. To help them though, she would have to be artful in her trip to London.

"Who knows, Mama," Maeve said, returning to her desk to pack her inkwell. "Maybe my writing can help more than just me to escape."

"Sweetheart, it's important to me you enjoy your time in London, that is all."

And that I find a husband. Maeve kept the thought to herself. She was leaving today and did not wish to cause any arguments by suggesting she had other ideas.

"I hope you will continue your writing for your sake, but that is all it must ever be." Gwen's words caught her interest, making her pause with the inkwell.

"What do you mean?" Maeve asked slowly.

"Well, that is all a lady's work can ever be, is it not? Private. Not many ladies are published." Gwen's words cut deeper than she could have realized.

Maeve stood perfectly still, staring down at the inkwell in her hands. They were feminine and slender, just like her build. The idea that someone would reject her work based on the fact she was a lady made her fingers clench around the inkwell.

What is the difference between a man's name and a woman's, anyway?

"Now, pass me that inkwell. The carriage will be ready for your departure soon," Gwen said, beckoning Maeve toward her.

Maeve passed over the inkwell, determined to do what she could for her parents, despite the worries that plagued her mind.

"London! Is it not everything you imagined it to be?" Chloe asked, peering out of the window of the carriage as they swayed back and forth.

"It is," Maeve said, finding her nose wrinkling a little.

"Look at these fine buildings." Chloe gestured out of the window. Maeve finished retying her bonnet under her chin, knowing they had to be nearly there, as she leaned forward, looking out of the window.

They were passing grand buildings, some fine and Palladian in style, with such white pillars and vast windows that they glistened. Yet there was also a darkness that hung about the city.

"Yes, they are fine, but one has to squint to see them through this smog," Maeve said, sitting back again.

"It is merely a cloudy day, it will pass." Chloe spoke with confidence, sitting back in the carriage as well. "I've heard several stories of the fashions in London. Such finely dressed ladies that people turn and stare."

"Speaking of which, look!" Maeve gestured out of the window at a passing couple.

The gentleman and lady were clearly of significant wealth, not just judging by their clothes, but also by the maid and footman who followed them, carrying boxes and bags of purchases that had obviously been made that day in the shops.

"Oh, my, look at her," Chloe said, sighing in admiration.

Maeve smiled, for the lady was dressed well, with such a fine flowing pelisse that her figure was flattered perfectly. The pastel blue shimmer of the gown seemed to glow too, despite there being little sun that day.

"I think there will be enough fine clothes to observe and admire that could even satisfy your insatiable appetite for fashion," Maeve said, teasing Chloe and earning a playful tap around her arm.

"Who could not stare when there are such ladies to stare at?" Chloe said, sitting back in the carriage once again. "So, you know I wish to observe the fashions here in London, what do you wish for, Maeve?"

"Well . . ." Maeve was debating what to reveal of her plan when the carriage abruptly thudded. She clutched the side of the carriage as Chloe did the same. Their smiles vanished as the carriage came to a hasty halt with a loud clunk and the whinnies of panicked horses filling the air.

"What was that?" Chloe said, looking back and forth.

Maeve abruptly stuck her head out of the carriage to see that the driver and footman were climbing down from the front.

"What has happened?" she called to them.

"Apologies, my lady," the footman said, hurrying to their side and opening the carriage door. "It seems we are stuck."

As Maeve stepped down, she saw the problem instantly. The wheel was caught in such a deep divot that no matter how much the driver urged the horses forward, they could not get out of it.

"We shall have to dig our way out, and it may take some time," the footman explained as Chloe stepped down too.

"We'd best roll up the sleeves of our spencer jackets then, Maeve," Chloe said with wit, earning a laugh from Maeve. Yet the footman was clearly not used to such jests as he looked at her quizzically.

"How near are we to Gracechurch Street?" Maeve asked, looking at the bags at the rear of the carriage.

"Two streets over, I believe," the footman said, pointing to the end of the road.

"Then we shall complete the journey on foot," Maeve said, walking to the rear of the carriage.

"On foot? Maeve!" Chloe hastened after her toward the back of the carriage. "We cannot walk the streets alone in London. What would our fathers say?"

"They are not here for their opinion to be heard."

"I can imagine what it would be well enough," Chloe pointed out with a wry smile.

"Chloe, we are both tired after our long journey. We need a good rest, and the quickest way there will be on foot. What do you say?" Maeve asked as she gestured for the footman to unlatch the bags. He did as she asked as Maeve waited for Chloe's answer.

"Well, I suppose we could."

"Excellent! Let us go. It is only two streets along."

The two set off in the direction the footman had pointed out, but after they'd walked two streets along, Maeve's feet came to a firm stop. She looked between street signs, her brow creasing as she realized the problem.

"I think the footman must have got his directions wrong," she murmured, turning back and forth.

Chloe struggled with her bags, dropping one to the floor as she stopped at her friend's side, her eyes going wide.

"Are we lost?" she asked, her voice pitching high.

"No, we are just . . ."

"Not sure where we are? I rather think a simpler way to say that would have been to say we are lost!"

Benjamin

"Damn," Benjamin muttered as he lifted the pocket watch out of his waistcoat to check the time. It was a fine thing, engraved with his family's crest across the gold case, and with his father's name emblazoned along the bottom. Benjamin smiled, as he always did when looking at the watch, before his eyes alighted on the time. "I will be late," he muttered angrily and pocketed the watch again.

He was never late. It was a rule he had with himself to always be on time, but today there was nothing he could do. He had set off late from home, and so much traffic was about that day, it was increasingly difficult for the carriage to move at any great speed.

They slowed down considerably as they turned corners, urging Benjamin to lean forward and look out of the carriage window. With a little luck, he may be able to abandon the carriage entirely and make it to his lawyer's office faster on foot.

As his eyes danced across the street, moving from house to building, to passing ladies and gentlemen, who nodded and smiled at each other, his focus landed on a rather unusual pairing. Two ladies were standing at the side of the road, with no footman or maid to accompany them.

The shorter of the two, with black hair, was turning her head back and forth, talking quite a lot, possibly bemoaning the weight of the bags they were carrying as she dropped one of the cases at her feet with an exaggerated sigh. It must have been for comical effect for her friend turned around and laughed heartily.

Benjamin was rather struck by this friend. Tall, slender, and with fine brown hair tucked away under a pretty bonnet, she was easy to notice in the street. But what caught Benjamin's interest the most was her eyes and how they lit up as she laughed. She had an unusual beauty about her, with a particularly broad smile, which made Benjamin smile too.

For some reason, all worry about being late to see his lawyer fled his mind. Instead, Benjamin tapped on the wall of the carriage, urging it to come to a stop. The carriage pulled up a little in front of the ladies he had been staring at, allowing him to jump down from the carriage and hurry toward them.

The taller of the two, the one who had caught Benjamin's eye, hadn't yet noticed his approach. She seemed far too absorbed in searching the road signs.

"Perhaps it is this way," she said, gesturing down a street.

"Good day to you, ladies." His voice was smooth as he bowed to the two of them. The shorter lady hurried to curtsy to him, but the taller turned and looked at him with more than a little suspicion, her brows furrowed. "I couldn't help noticing you seem rather lost. Can I help you in any way?"

"Well, we . . ." The shorter lady went to speak, but the taller spoke quicker.

"No, thank you, sir, we can see for ourselves." The lady's voice had an imperious note to it that made Benjamin smile again.

He had never been one for admiring a damsel in distress. He infinitely preferred a capable lady who wished to take care of herself, and this lady's answer had put her firmly in this category.

"Thank you for your kindness in offering your help," she said politely, "but we are not in need of it." She curtsied quickly and turned her head away again, angling to look down the road.

Benjamin struggled to stifle his laugh. There was something to admire in the lady's behavior, but there was also something amusing. If they told him the direction in which they were heading, it would be easy for him to point it out to them.

"You may not be in need of my help, but I should like to give it all the same." Benjamin's words had the lady turning back to face him, with one of her eyebrows lifting as she stared at him. It was as if she wasn't sure what to make of him and was eying him carefully. "If I cannot point you in the right direction, then may I offer the use of my carriage instead."

"Your carriage?" the shorter lady repeated, turning to look at her friend with clear hope in her eyes.

"I see you have bags to carry, after all."

"Bags, yes, but we have arms with which to carry them well enough." The taller lady's response had her friend hiding her own laugh behind her hand. "I thank you again, stranger, for your kindness, but it is one we do not wish to accept. Good day to you." She curtsied another time and looked away, urging her friend to do the same.

"Then I wish you well, ladies." Benjamin bowed and tipped his hat as they glanced over their shoulders back at him. "I pray you find where you are looking for soon."

Benjamin couldn't help it when his eyes lingered on the taller lady for a little longer. Her beauty was of such an unusual kind that he rather wished he could stay and find another reason to talk to her, but it was not to be. He had offered his help and she had politely turned it down, with wit too. He smiled at her, rather relieved to see she returned that smile, even if it was a brief thing before he headed back to his carriage and climbed inside.

He tapped the wall and continued on his journey to his lawyer's house, but he was distracted. Every few minutes he thought back to the meeting with the mystery lady, and he rather wished he had found a way to help her and her friend after all.