Benjamin was late for his meeting at White's. He had seen him sitting in his usual spot, clearly visible for the entire interested population of London to see, in the large front window. All wondering... What is Beau Brummell wearing?

If it wasn't for Beau, men would still be stuck in high heels, powdered wigs with painted faces. So, for that Benjamin was grateful. However, it was such a chore to go anywhere with him as it took him over five hours to dress. Not even his Clara would take that long on her worst day.

Clara. 

He wondered how she was faring. The reports he has been getting from his steward from the information Rosalyn had provided has been grave of late. He longed to get back to her, but things had gone from bad to worse with the announcement of the Destruction of Stocking Frames Act, an act making the destruction of any mechanized loom a capital felony and hence a crime punishable by death.

He knew if the act made it through parliament that the Prince had planned to back it with his assent. What he did not know was how this would be received and what would be the backlash because of it. It was vital that he remain in London.

"George, sorry to be late."

"Beau, if you would be so kind."

Benjamin just grinned at him, but ignored his request. He knew Beau before he became a dandy. Back when he was in the Prince's Tenth Royal Hussar's and had his nose broken by a horse's swift kick to his face.

Back even before then. They had both grown up in Donnington Grove, Berkshire. Beau's father was a politician, and one of his father's lead informants. Beau although four years older than him, had bonded with Benjamin the year Beau had lost his own father. Both having lost their fathers at a young age fortified the friendship they shared when Benjamin was there to help him through the loss.

Both their families were middle class, but Beau had found a way to get the Prince's particular attention, allowing him to become friends with the Prince. An alliance that became extremely valuable when the Queen had given Benjamin his mission.

"So how is the Prince Regent fairing?" Benjamin asked taking a seat across from him.

"Prinny? Getting fatter by the hour would be my guess?" Beau said with chuckle.

"You best not let him hear you say that or this comfy life you have built for yourself will likely disappear?"

"Who will disappear?" Lord Byron asked as he approached them both.

"No one of consequence," Benjamin teased and Beau pouted, causing him to chuckle.

"So the big day approaches," Benjamin said in regards to the law being passed.

"They are certainly rushing to get this through parliament. What are they so afraid of?" Lord Byron asked.

"Well there has been numerous acts taken on part of the Luddites, factories burned down, guards killed, property smashed. I can't imagine it is not hurting the owners financially. Something ought to be done," Beau offered.

"Come now, Beau. Think of the opposition. You train your entire life for one trade and one trade only. That trade provides the food and shelter for your family, and within moments is wiped out. Employment elsewhere nearly impossible, you lose your home, your family, everything. So a few machines get smashed, is that really reason enough to petition for the death of these people. Have they not suffered enough?"

Beau just shrugged as if the entire issue mattered little, but Benjamin suddenly got that gut feeling that Lord Byron was switching sides. Even though, like Beau, he too owed his popularity to the attention he received from the would be King.

"You are planning on speaking out against the Act?" Benjamin already knew the answer but had to ask it nonetheless.

"I do. I have completed my impassioned speech and its currently in my pocket. Care to hear it?" Lord Byron asked, quite pleased to make this topic his maiden speech in the House of Lords.

"NO!" came the reply from both his comrades, and Lord Byron looked quite put out by the response.

Beau did not wish to be bored to death by such frivolity and Benjamin just knew he wanted to make trouble. It seemed to be his motive for existence. Think of the most outlandish thing, then cross that line and you would find yourself standing along side Lord Byron.

"Well, it is a masterpiece in its own rite, and I do expect the majority to be moved by my words. If all goes well they will abolished this law before it ever comes to the floor."

Beau snorted in a very un-gentleman like manner saying, "I highly doubt that. They already know they have Prinny's assent. I bet you a crown that they pass that law regardless of your so called speech."

Highly affronted, Lord Byron shook on the wager. Mumbling, "We will see who is right and who is a little lighter in his pocket come this afternoon."

One of the workers at Whites approached the three men, looking rather nervous. "Mr. McAllister, I have a letter for your, sir. It has been brought here by a rider who insisted you get the letter as soon as possible."

Benjamin has been late hoping to get the post before he left. When none arrived he had a glimmer or hope that things may be improving. That hope turned to despair as he had opened the letter from his steward, finding another letter written in Clara's own hand contained within.

His mouth felt dry, his legs weak. Lord Byron took one look at his friend and pulled a chair out for him to be seated. Whatever news contained within must be grave indeed.

Benjamin fell into the pro-offered chair, as he read on. "She's gone."

"Who?" Lord Byron asked.

Beau waved to the waiter and asked for something strong to drink, and the young lad rushed to do his bidding.

"Clara."

Lord Byron looked to Beau for explanation. He knew nothing or no one by that name associated with Benjamin.

Pushing the drink the waiter had returned with in front of Benjamin, Beau looked upon his best friend with pity and concern, but mostly pity.

Benjamin took a swig of whatever liquid was within the glass, he did not know, he could not care, he just relished the burning sensation that fought against the growing numbness in his heart.

"Ben, you had to know this day was coming?" Beau said, wanting to support his friend but not wanting to mince his words with sentimentality.

Benjamin stood up with some force. "I have to go."

"Go? Go where?" Have you forgotten what today is? You can not afford to go," Beau reasoned.

Benjamin looked at his friend and he had the look of a desperate man, dangling from a ledge facing down death itself, even though he knew the battle to be already lost. "I cannot afford to stay," he reasoned.

He waved for one of the workers to come forth. "Fetch my horse for me, please I must leave at once."

"Of course, sir." The boy ran off to do his bidding.

Beau tried to reason with him again. "Benjamin, she is gone. She has done you a favor. You are not the kind of man who is built for a home life, family and whatnot. You are a man of action, bound by duty, and that duty requires you to be here, now," Beau said placing some emphasis on the word now.

"Clara was smart enough to have figured this out. She has set you free my friend. Take your freedom and cut your ties. It is for the best."

Part of Benjamin knew he was right, knew that if he could bring himself to read Clara's letter she would most likely be confessing the very same sentiments, but he could not do it. He could not let her go. She needed him, and if he were honest with himself he would be forced to admit, he needs her more, then she does him.

"Please, I will explain my actions to the Queen. I just..." his heart felt like it was being ripped from his chest and shredded before his very eyes. Nothing could prepare him for this outcome.

"Your horse is ready, sir."

Benjamin did not hesitate. He did not wait. He took off like a shot for home. Perhaps, if God were willing he would not be too late. He would find her still.

Lord Byron took the seat Benjamin vacated. "Who is Clara?"

Beau looked with sad eyes as he watched his friend gallop off, rushing it would seem to face his doom. "She would be, Benjamin's wife."

Benjamin galloped like he wind, pausing only briefly to trade horses when one would tire. He pressed on. His plan, to get back to Denwood Manor by nightfall.

Exhausted and weary from his travels he arrived at his home and pounded on the doors, as it was evident the occupants had turned in for the night there was not a light to be seen.

The door opened a crack and a single lit candle could be seen highlighting his butler's face. "Come in, sir." It had begun to rain, and his master was soaked through.

Several more of the household staff appeared. Mr. Fenton had help him out of his riding coat and instructed that a fire be lit in the master bedroom and a change of clothes be laid out for him.

"I am sorry, sir." Mr. Fenton began feebly. "We sent a rider as soon as we realized, with the news."

"When?" was all Benjamin's drained mind could muster to ask.

"In the middle of the night, a day ago," he answered, helping him to his room. "Rosalyn became concerned when she came to collect Mistress Clara's dinner tray. It was still in the hall, where she left it. Rosalyn had gotten use to the Mistress not eating much but she had never left the tray outside and untouched."

"Becoming alarmed. She sought me out, and after knocking several times with no response, I entered the room and that is when we found the letter. Somehow, she left with no one seeing her leave."

Having reached his room, Benjamin dressed in dry clothes. "I wish to see Rosalyn."

"Sir, she does not live on the premise. I would need to...." Fenton fell silent at the look in his Master's eyes. "Very well, sir. I will fetch her myself," he bowed and left the room.

Benjamin opened the door to Clara's room. It was untouched. All her belongings she had left behind. Benjamin began a thorough search, of every wardrobe and chest, her vanity and writing desk. The only thing he could see she took with her was the graphite holder and journal he had purchased for her, all her gowns shoes, stocking and such were all still there.

He pulled from the wardrobe her jewelry box. Several items were missing. He took note they were the most expensive. Most likely how she intended to pay her way to wherever she was headed, as the jewels were good for little else with all her other belongs being left behind.

Then a horrifying thought occurred to him. She took none of her clothing. Her bodices, chemises, gowns, everything was here. He ran back to his room and threw open his drawers. It only took moments to realize what she had done. Why no one had seen her leave.

"Clever Clara, but what have you done?"