Banbury, England, 1844

Four months had passed since Gideon Hartwright had walked away from Nicholas, and forging his own path had proved harder than expected.

When he and Nicholas had travelled, Nicholas had paid for just about everything. After living so long he'd accrued a lot of finances, whereas Gideon had walked away from his family with nothing, and he hadn't realised how much he'd relied on Nicholas until he didn't have him anymore.

Gone were the comfortable beds in decent lodging houses, replaced by lonely days of sleeping rough. It wasn't exactly what Gideon had had in mind, and sometimes he wondered if he'd made a mistake by ending things with Nicholas.

Then he reminded himself of how he'd felt when he walked away – that lingering anger over Nicholas's trickery, the feeling of being trapped in a relationship that simply wasn't working anymore, that stifled sense of not quite knowing who he was but wanting to find out.

He'd done the right thing.

He knelt by the River Cherwell, which separated the towns of Banbury and Grimsbury, and splashed cold water on his face, scrubbing away the dirt from sleeping out in the open.

At least he was a vampire, unaffected by cold or sickness, though even vampires found sleeping on the ground uncomfortable.

Gideon splashed his face again, then sat on the riverbank, pulling off his boots and sinking his feet into the cold water.

Things were hard now, but he had to believe they'd get better.

A slender figure materialised out of the shadows, walking towards him – a girl with long blonde hair and delicate features that seemed carved from smoothest marble under the light of the moon.

Gideon watched her approach.

"Are you alright?" she asked, stopping a short distance away.

Current fashions dictated that women should have pale complexions – anything that showed the touch of the sun was considered vulgar – but the moon made this girl's skin seem almost silver. Her hair glimmered like pale gold.

"Yes," Gideon replied, wondering what she was doing here.

It was hardly normal for Victorian women to be out unescorted, let alone at this time of night. What was she doing down by the river?

Her gaze perused him, sharp and intense, and he felt strangely exposed.

"How long has it been since you were turned?" she asked.

Gideon started, pulling his feet out of the river. "What?"

"How long?" she repeated.

Gideon glanced around, and even though no one else was there, he lowered his voice. "You know I'm a vampire?"

"Of course I do."

"How?"

She smiled, showing off fangs that gleamed like sharpened pearls.

"You're a vampire," Gideon realised.

Suddenly he didn't know what to do with himself.

Of course he knew there were other vampires in the world besides Nicholas, but this was the first time he'd met one, and he felt completely at a disadvantage.

"I am," she said. "My name's Jemima."

"Gideon," he muttered.

She waited expectantly, and he realised he hadn't answered her question.

"Three years," he said.

She raised her eyebrows. "As long as that?"

"Is it surprising?"

Jemima moved closer and sat on the riverbank, pulling up her skirts and stretching out her legs in front of her. Gideon knew he was supposed to feel scandalised, but one thing he'd learned from his time with Nicholas was that he no longer had to be fettered by societal attitudes and expectations. Why did he care if Jemima showed off her legs?

"You seem younger, that's all," she said.

Judging from her girlish appearance, she'd been years younger than him when she died, but the easily confident way she held herself now made him think she'd been a vampire for a long time.

"I haven't been on my own for very long," Gideon admitted, sitting beside her.

"What happened to the vampire who made you?"

Gideon stared out over the river, to where moonlight spilled like liquid silver across the glassy surface. He wasn't used to opening up to complete strangers, but maybe it was better to talk to someone that he'd probably never see again.

"He loved me, and I didn't love him," he said.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Jemima said.

Gideon plucked a few strands of grass and crushed them between his fingers.

"He did teach you how to survive on your own, didn't he?" Jemima said.

"I don't think he thought I'd ever be on my own."

She scrutinised him again. Her eyes were much older than her face. "Well, you're clearly not starving so can I at least assume you've been managing to feed yourself?"

Gideon couldn't hold back a grimace. The last two nights he'd struggled, in the end resorting to sinking his fangs into a stray dog that had wandered into his path. While vampires could survive on animal blood, it really wasn't the same. Not to mention the dog had bitten him back before running off.

He flexed his hand. The bloody dents from the dog's teeth had healed over, but the bite had taken him by surprise. He'd never been bitten by an animal before.

"I'm coping," he said.

"Do you need help?" Jemima asked. "Because if you're struggling, you can travel with me for a while –"

"No," Gideon cut her off. "Thank you," he hurried on, "I really appreciate the offer, but I need to do this on my own."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded.

Part of him was tempted, but there was no point leaving Nicholas so he could find who he was without someone to lean on, only to become Jemima's shadow instead.

Jemima gazed out over the river, her face slightly uplifted. "The world can be a cruel place. I hope you're prepared for that."

"If I ever made it public that I prefer men to women, I could be put to death for it. I know exactly how cruel the world can be."

"Sorry, that a bit patronising, wasn't it?" Jemima said, her mouth scrunching up.

"Don't worry about it."

She was older than him – though he wasn't sure by how much and it didn't seem polite to ask – and though, yes, her words had come across as a little patronising, it seemed to have come from a good place.

"Do you live in Banbury?" Gideon asked.

"I'm just passing through. You?"

"I was planning to stay another day or two, and then I'll move on."

Jemima smiled sadly. "We have to do a lot of moving on, don't we?"

She climbed to her feet, brushing grass off her skirts and stockings. "With that in mind, maybe it's time I gave you some space."

"Wait," Gideon said, and she looked quizzically at him. "Will you stay with me? Just a little longer?"

"Are you sure you're alright?" Jemima said, sitting back down.

"I am, but I'm also lonely. I'm not going to travel with you, but I'd like to sit with you a while, if you don't mind."

Her lips curved in another smile, warmer this time. "I'll stay," she said.

They didn't talk much.

They just sat, side by side, on the riverbank and watched the glitter of the moon on the water's surface, until the black of night started fading into grey.

Then they both got up and quietly went their separate ways. Neither of them said goodbye, they just smiled each other, and even though Gideon knew nothing about Jemima, he felt strangely glad to have met her. Her offer to help him had only reinforced his understanding that he needed to do this by himself.

Yes, it was hard, but it would be worth it.

The sun was coming, and Gideon would have to spend another long day sleeping rough, but it didn't seem as bad now. When he walked away from the river, he was smiling.