It promised to be a lovely day.

The sun was shining. Colorful birds were forming patterns in the sky. I hadn't even seen my mother in over a week.

Yet I felt a sense of dread as I walked the streets alongside Harry's wife, Katherine to my embroidery class.

However, since I had also heard that babies could detect and respond to negative emotions of the adults around them, I plastered a smile on my face as I stared at baby Eloise in my arms, humming a patchwork rendition of Sia's Snowman.

"They love their aunt Immy. Look at how James keeps reaching for you," Katherine gushed, tilting James in my direction.

I stroked his cheeks gently and watched him give me his gumless giggle. I smiled truly. Babies had the type of joy only they could cause.

If only I could always have that joy.

I glanced around again, noticing everyone on the street was huddled in several groups, whispering.

I tried to look back quickly to prevent Katherine from noticing my worry but it seemed that she had noticed the unusual atmosphere. We made eye contact and turned back in unison to the babies.

"What do you reckon everyone's discussing?" Katherine whispered to me.

"No idea. Would it be rude to ask?"

Katherine shook her head. "Probably not. Guessing by the way they keep talking, they'll be more than willing to volunteer information."

Katherine was a small woman, around 5'2, with blonde hair and light brown eyes. Her most distinguishing feature was her big heart, which I saw firsthand, the first night I had moved in with Harry. She had immediately accepted me as her daughter, even though, in reality, I was more than five years older than her.

She walked briskly to a group nestled in front of a reading café. I followed behind her.

"Excuse me," Katherine said politely with a smile that had the man's icy visage softening immediately.

He separated from his group. "Yes. Do you need help with something, ma'am?"

"Nothing of the sort. My sister and I are just a little curious about what all the talk is about," Katherine said.

The man looked shocked for a second. "You haven't heard anything about Duke Arden's family?"

Arden. Arden. The name sounds familiar.

"Duke Arden? Good heavens, no. Did something happen?"

The man reached into his coat, pulled out a paper—a newspaper clipping—and handed it to Katherine. "Have a look."

It read:

Dear respectable citizen of this great kingdom,

The nobles, as the highest echelon in the chain of life, are expected to present themselves as paragons of virtue and leadership. They serve not only as the guiding lights for the masses but also as the pillars that uphold the stability of society. However, what becomes of this idea when the son of a Duke, entrusted with the legacy of his lineage, conspires against the very monarch he is sworn to serve?

Lord Marcus Arden, the scion of the esteemed Arden family, finds himself at the center of a scandal that threatens to throw the dukedom into chaos. Once a figure of admiration and respect, he now stands accused of the most heinous crime against the crown: treason. The populace of this dukedom, who once held him in high regard, is now faced with the disheartening truth of his betrayal.

The gravity of his actions is underscored by the overwhelming evidence amassed against him. Investigations have revealed a trove of incriminating documents and the testimonies of credible witnesses. Each piece of evidence adds weight to the damning case that has unfolded against the young noble. It is clear and irrefutable: the heir to the dukedom is guilty of treason.

In light of such a situation-

I had to stop reading because I knew rubbish when I saw it. Even the copies of incriminating documents attached below could not convince me otherwise. I took James from Katherine and walked some feet away to wait for her while thinking.

Who would have enough guts to frame a future Duke? Possibly another noble but why?

"That was interesting," Katherine said as she returned to my side with the cut-out folded.

I didn't want to respond and voice my lack of faith in the publication. "Who wrote it?"

"It's anonymous," she replied.

Of course, it is.

"Was it just me or did that article seem fake?" Katherine said cautiously.

I turned to Katherine, surprised. "You think so too?"

"Yes, yes. The article seemed overly flowery, unlike what one would expect of a professional journalist. And the penmanship in the transactions and letters is so poor that it couldn't possibly be that of a noble, even if they wanted to disguise their handwriting. Besides, one would typically burn such papers or write in code," Katherine whispered in one breath.

I nudged her as softly as I could with the babies in my arms, playing with each other. "Someone's been learning a thing or two from their husband."

Her cheeks tinted pink. "I just sit in on his thinking time occasionally. It's no big deal."

"I beg to differ. Most females would be swayed by public opinion." I sighed. "Sewing class would be a chore today."

"At least you'll see Mr. Castilla after it," Katherine teased.

Right. Today was Friday. Lincoln got off work early.

I smiled. "Yeah. Wonderful, don't you think?"

Katherine teased. "Look at that smile. You really do like him."

"He's great company," I muttered. "More than great."

"Oh, give me my babies back before you walk headfirst into a wall."

I looked up and noticed we had reached Madame Clarisse's house where I learned sewing, embroidery, and mending.

I rolled my eyes and handed her the twins, who began to cry immediately. I turned to them disheartened.

"Don't cry, little ones. Aunty Immy would be gone for just a few hours. You'll see me real soon." They grasped my index fingers. "You need to be good for Mummy. When I return, I will tell you guys a bedtime story."

As their crying quieted, Katherine smiled at me. "It's almost as if they can understand what you are saying."

"Of course, they can." I looked back down at the small ones. "Be good, soldiers. You'll see me real soon."

I pecked each of their foreheads. Turning to enter the building, I ran into someone.

"I'm sorry, could you not stand in the centre of the doorway?"

Completely ignoring what I said, the person replied, "A baby would look good on you, Imelda."

I looked up at the owner of the voice. "Lord Barnes, if you would excuse me, I am late for my lessons and my teacher would not be pleased."

"It's Baines. I won't take much of your time. I only came here to tell you I would be waiting for you after your classes."

I could hear a few squeals behind the door. So he intentionally chose to ask me here thinking I would not refuse him in front of my 'friends.'

Too bad they weren't my friends.

"I apologise, Lord Baines, but I have to decline as I have a prior engagement. If there isn't anything else-"

"With who?"

I raised an eyebrow, silently questioning if he needed to ask me a question we both knew the answer to.

His smile turned cold. "I shall see you this afternoon, Imelda."

"And my answer shall remain the same, Lord Baines. Enjoy your morning," I said and walked past him to open the door.

When I entered the room, I saw about a dozen girls looking guilty with Madam Clarisse not in sight.

I scoffed at their poor acting. "If you lot want to eavesdrop, you should learn to do it silently."

"Can you blame us? Lord Baines is such an impressive man," Anna said dreamily.

"Yes, and what's with your change in attitude? Normally, you would have jumped at the chance to be alone with Lord Baines. Today, it sounded like you were looking for an excuse to dismiss him," Sara said.

"Do you really have a prior engagement or was that a lie?" Dianne asked.

So nosy.

Before I could respond, the most gutsy of them, Selene spoke. "Of course she does. Today is Friday. Every Friday, she skedaddles as soon as Madame Clarisse dismisses us to see someone."

"Are you courting someone?"

"Does your mother know?"

"What's he like?"

"What's his father's title?"

The last question seemed to attract all their attention, including the more quiet ones who always sat in the back.

I hadn't wanted them to discuss the Duke's accusations but I didn't want to be the subject of their morning talk. However, I decided to play along. "He's an orphaned worker without a title. I have no idea who his father is."

"Be serious. He has to be an earl's son at the very least to refuse Lord Baines' request," Anna said.

I shook my head with a cheeky smile on my face. "Just a dirty nameless worker. Nothing more."

"How on earth would you reject a meeting with a future Marquess because you have an arrangement with a commoner?" Selene asked.

I shrugged. "If you find the future Marquess so impressive, go ahead and pursue him. Maybe he would marry you."

"Maybe I would," Anna declared, watching for my reaction.

I chuckled. "Okay."

"Okay? You're not angry?"

"Why would I be? The marquess' affairs are none of my business."

Before Anna could speak again. I held up a hand. "Why don't we get back to sewing?"

***

Before Madame Clarisse dismissed us, I was already beside the door with a large smile that made the other girls keep glancing at me. I clutched the sleeve I had made, waiting for her to inspect it.

She got to my seat and lifted the sleeve. "Very good work, Imelda. You may leave."

I curtsied and ran out the door, ignoring some of the girls shouting for me to wait for them.

As I walked quickly to Lincoln and my meeting spot on the next street, I narrowly missed a carriage swerving into my path. Since I knew exactly who was in that carriage, I took off and ran as fast as I could, ducking under the arm that shot out to grab me.

Soon, I arrived on the next street which was a more commercial area and hence, had many people milling around. I slowed down and walked into a dressmaker shop.

On my way to the backrooms, I greeted some of the workers who recognised me from the other times I had visited, while taking a winding path through the rows of expensive clothing to ensure that whoever was watching me would lose sight. After a few more minutes of low-budget Mission Impossible stealth activities, I tiptoed into the second backroom.

"Imelda," Bella said, coming to hug me.

"Quick. I need a way out. Baines is following me," I whispered.

Bella immediately pulled a hat from under her table and placed it on my head. Next, she raised two shawls. "Blue or green?"

"What is this? A fashion show?" I whispered panicked.

"Sorry," she said and wrapped the blue one around my shoulders. "Pick up that basket. It has sweets in it. Now, you look like a harmless girl going to visit her grandmother who lives in a cottage."

I blinked. Ain't no way she just called me Red Riding Hood.

"Did you see a young lady in a white dress pass through here?" someone said outside.

Bella and I froze for a second before she began to whisper-yell. "Out. Out."

I eased out through her 'inaccessible' backdoor and turned up the street towards the newspaper stand I always met Lincoln beside.

I walked for about ten minutes before I stopped, staring ahead.

There he was with that ever-present scowl on his face and his brown coat that I had felt between my fingers so many times.

As if noticing my gaze, Lincoln looked up straight at me and although he didn't smile, the coldness seemed to leave his eyes.

However, before I could take a step towards him, a hand grabbed me from behind.