She was a great actress, after all, Ellie thought to herself as she packed her bags that night.

When Byron told her of his origins and the place he came from, there was no one best to perform the disbelieving—and eventually the surprised—woman but she.

He bought her act and offered her a trip 'down' there.

And she was ready, with the urgings of the old man who seemed to have more to gain than Ellie.

But if she played this right, she would have more.

And Ellie had always wanted more.

-Above and Below

*****

"Lady Emma, my lord," Lawrence announced as he entered the room with Emma behind him. The butler gave him a look of warning and something else that told Wynne he did not like the woman's presence.

When the man started for the door without even another word, Wynne dryly said, "Are you not going to offer Lady Emma anything, Lawrence?"

"Ah, yes," the butler said with a forced smile on his lips. "Would you like some water, my lady?"

Emma smiled at the butler. "Water with tea, yes, please."

Wynne almost laughed at Lawrence' appalled look. "Very well."

"And biscuits if you have them as well, thank you, Lawrence."

"Very good," Lawrence said through his teeth.

When he finally left, Wynne could see the triumphant smile that curved Emma's lips.

For some time, he simply observed Emma as she studied the room with her curious eyes.

She was here knowing he was a Trilby. And there was no question that she was playing him. Knowing Emma Everard, she must be thinking his ultimate goal was to cause havoc in her perfect life.

"Did you come here to know my secrets?" he asked.

She stopped her roaming eyes and focused it on his, as though she could see him for who he truly was. Which was apparently quite true, Wynne thought.

"Yes," she said, walking forward and taking the chair he did not even offer.

With the desk between them, Wynne had the urge to reach out and grab her.

But to do what? Throttle her for making everything complicated? Or kiss her for being so wise and brave?

"Writing a play requires a vast imagination," he said, straying back to the topic they both knew they had to discuss. "And discipline, of course."

"I know," she said with a small smile. "One ought to know what is expected to deliver the best result."

Wynne shook his head. "You do not merely meet their expectation, Emma," he said, "You have to surpass it."

"How?"

He allowed a small smile to slowly curl the corner of his lips. "You attack them with surprises."

She slowly nodded.

Wynne blinked and looked away with a sigh. "I do not even understand why you would come to me for this," he wryly said. "You can ask Samuel to teach you these things."

"He does not write fiction."

"Are you certain?" he asked, voice challenging.

Emma frowned. "Whatever do you mean? You know what he writes about."

"Yes, you are correct. I am sorry."

"You were trying to imply that Samuel's writings might actually—"

"His writings are naught but opinions, Emma. And opinions tend to play fire with fiction."

Her beautiful green eyes narrowed. "Are you saying this now because of his articles against Above and Below?"

Wynne scoffed. "Are you here now because you know he despises the idea of you starting to write your own fiction?" Emma shook her head. "Then are you here for something else?"

She did not provide an answer right away. Her eyes simply stared at him, studying his eyes, his face—his entire expression. She thought she could read him now that she knew his secrets.

But she was wrong.

Wynne was on to her and was willingly playing the game.

"I am here because I know that you would not be too selfish to share your tricks." Her brow arched. "Are you not?"

"I have too many tricks up my sleeve, Emma," he said, slowly standing up with his hands deep in his trouser pockets. "Which one would you want to explore first?"

He saw something flash before her eyes but it quickly disappeared.

He smiled and turned around to face his wall of books. "Let us see," he said, looking up and down. Finally, he reached for a particular book. "Why don't we start with this?"

He dropped the book before her. She picked it up and frowned. "How to Craft Romance and Make it Real?" She turned the book around. "Is there truly a book like this?"

He shrugged. "Of course. There is also one for mystery—even character development."

"I think I would appreciate character development more."

"That is for later."

She looked up at him. "Why?"

"A character is comprised of too many facets, Emma. Creating one can be quite complicated. There are factors that need to be thoroughly discussed and I am afraid we do not have enough to spare for the time being."

"What are those?"

He shrugged, looking into her eyes. In a serious voice, he answered her question. "Character history, emotions such as joy, happiness, sadness, grief—and many others that morph a person's future decisions, ultimately crafting his future," he said slowly, never letting her go of her gaze. "And then there are others."

"Which are?"

"Lies, deception," he said, slowly closing the distance toward them. "You are not ready for them yet."

She blinked but never looked away. "What if I am?"

Wynne chuckled. "Emma, I'll know when you are."

*****

Someone was brave enough to write an article against Samuel's stand on Above and Below. The writer was amongst the famous writers for the Town Herald.

Mr. Gonan did not hide his own opinions about Samuel's writings, and even wrote, "He is all talk. Why don't he make his own play rather than just hide behind his inkwells attacking a piece of art?"

Samuel, of course, was furious, for it was the first time someone had publicly went against him.

Although he appeared calm and collected, Emma could sense he was bothered. After all, there were quite a number who were in agreement with Mr. Gonan.

"Be reminded, Sam, that your fight is not with the Town."

He shook his head. "You do not understand, Em. If the people lose trust in me, how will they ever listen to the words I say in the future?"

"Then I suggest you stop attacking the play, Samuel,"

He scoffed. "Why should I? It is created by a Trilby! They are using the play to manipulate the people. Do you not see, Emma? They think the play is based on true events! They would rather enjoy watching a play than fret over the leadership of the Town! No one dares to discuss the topic of a possible revival of the monarchy!"

"Which is why I am suggesting you stop attacking the play. You are leading the people to a different path rather than point them to the one you wish them to take."

He scoffed again but said nothing.

"And his family is not aware of his involvement with the play."

His eyes narrowed into slits. "Something he has led you to believe, yes?"

Her jaw tightened. Well, Samuel could be correct. Wynne could have led her to believe it, but then she heard his conversation with his uncle. The rest of their family was not aware about Above and Below.

Samuel took a lungful of air and let out a long sigh. "Anyhow, let us stop this argument. We always find ourselves in such dire situations every time we discuss the play."

"I agree," Emma murmured under her breath.

"And I am sorry that I easily get angry over it. I just never liked it."

"You hate it."

"Yes," he admitted. A short silence lingered between them. "How has your secret assignment been?"

Emma shrugged. "I came to his home for a writing lesson."

He showed his surprise by raising his brows. "Did you find something interesting?"

"I did not have the chance to look around. But perhaps in the future, I steal one."

Samuel was suddenly serious. "You ought to be careful Emma. Send me a note if you decide to return so I will know where to find you if things go awry."

"Of course. I will not be that stupid to allow such thing to happen."

"Good," he said with a nod. "I will not let the bastard suspect a thing. I try my best to act like his usual friend." With a small smile, Samuel added, "The bastard will never know I am on to him."

"I hope it stays the same until we collect enough information. And when that time comes, Sam, we are going to tell Margaret." When he did not reply, she strongly said, "We are, Same. We are going to tell Maggie."

He nodded. "Yes, of course."

Emma let out a sigh. She could not let this go on for too long as it was getting too burdensome.

*****

"And where is Wynne?" asked Ralph.

Samuel looked around the gaming room of Grey's. He had seen a few familiar faces, but no one else to cause him alarm.

Recently, he had developed a habit of watching everything around him before settling down. He could not trust just anyone after what he and Emma discovered.

"He said he has articles to finish," he murmured, reaching for his drink. "Are we not going to play?" he asked.

"Not until Levi gets here," his friend answered.

Samuel watched Ralph as his friend checked his watch. "How is married life?"

With a frown, Ralph turned his attention on Samuel. "Why the sudden question?"

"Because I do not wish to discuss the recent article against me."

"I was not even aware one was written," said Ralph with a scoff. "And married life is wonderful. I went on a hunting trip with Alex and Levi. You ought to have been there. She was fearless."

He chuckled. "I hope she did not destroy your manliness."

"It is being threatened every single day. But apart from that, I adore being married." With a meaningful stare, he added, "And I do expect the same thing to happen to my sister."

Samuel scoffed and shook his head as though Ralph said something outrageous. The man did not have to threaten him for he vowed to make Emma happy.

"You barely have time for Emma. I do not like it," Ralph said as he reached for his brandy.

"I will try my best."

Ralph was about to say something again when he stopped, staring at something. Samuel turned his head over his shoulder and found Stella Marie being escorted into Grey's by a young lord.

He slowly turned to face Ralph. "I am truly amazed that she feels utterly comfortable to be coming to Grey's as though it is naught but a tea parlor."

"She is on her way here," Ralph said, eyes round. "Careful with your words."

"She will not mind anyway," Samuel murmured as he sipped his drink.

"My lords," Stella Marie's voice greeted. Samuel looked up and found her standing beside his chair. Her hand was deliberately resting on the back of his seat. Was she intimidating him?

"Miss Stella!" Ralph cried, acting surprised and very well pleased. The bastard's eyes could be seen sparkling with admiration.

"Lord Beechworth," said Stella, greeting Ralph with a slight curtsy. "I am here with Lord Barne, a dear admirer and friend of mine. Would you like to join us for a game?"

"We are expecting company, Miss Stella," Samuel said, voice flat.

"Ah, is that so?"

Ralph scoffed, noting Samuel's ire. And his friend was obviously pleased to be given the chance to irk him further.

"Say, Miss Stella," started Ralph, "I know you are a very level-headed lady and you respect opinions, but I am utterly curious how you find Samuel's horrid articles against your play?"

Samuel shot Ralph a murderous look, but not daring to look at Stella Marie.

"I do love honest opinions, my lord, that is true indeed." Her voice was sweet and too bloody nonchalant that it made Samuel even more uncomfortably angry. "At the very least, Lord Buford does not find my acting horrible."

Ralph was looking at Samuel's reaction the entire time with fascination. "Is that so?" He looked up at Stella Marie and added, "But you must know, Miss Stella, that Sam's opinion does not reflect everyone else's. My wife is fond of the play as well as his sisters."

"The story is very refreshing, yes," said Stella. "The play, after all, was written by a dear friend of mine."

"Truly! I did not know that."

"Yes. But before you can dig the information about the writer and director out of me, I must demand that you do not. My friend loves the privacy and anonymity."

"Which makes it even more interesting! My wife and sisters are quite intrigued with the writer's identity."

"An honor I will forever treasure," Stella Marie said, her voice filled with pride.

"Very well, I shall keep you at peace with the secret," Ralph said with a slight bow.

"Thank you," said Stella. "Very well, my lords, I have taken enough of your time. May you enjoy the evening."

Samuel murmured something close to a goodbye while Ralph stood to respectfully watch the woman leave.

"You disrespectful bastard," Ralph said with a laugh. "She obviously came to irk you. Have you had a previous squabble before tonight?"

"You can say that," Samuel admitted nonchalantly.

"I can see my wife in her," said Ralph. "Alex would be fast friends with her after a few words."

"Do not pray for that," said Samuel, his mind already wandering to something else.

The play, after all, was written by a dear friend of mine....

Stella Marie was not merely an actress for Wynne's play. She was also a friend.

Now, Samuel could not help but wonder how the actress can be useful to him.