Ellie attended her first ball in the Town.

She had been to many parties aboveground, but nothing similar to this one.

People actually danced. Curtsies were actually done.

And lords and ladies actually did exist, all flirty with merely their eyes.

She realized how a brush of a hand could be more stimulating last night when she and Byron attended an opera. She genuinely enjoyed last night and the ball she was currently in.

But somehow, people were wary of her. Despite wearing a new gown and despite Byron's cover story of her being his betrothed from a small village where her family owned a large estate, she knew she still did not pass the invisible standard of the elite.

Well, not that she did mind, really.

She was not going to stay here for long.

The old man who was standing merely a few paces away from her told her so himself.

If she could do what she came here to do, she would be back aboveground with more wealth and power than before she came down.

-Above and Below

*****

"I believe he will soon make a move," Samuel said, breaking the peaceful silence of the Everard parlor.

Emma looked up from the book she was reading. "How do you know?"

He shrugged. "I simply have a feeling."

"And how do you suppose he will make a move? What move could it be?" She wanted to know the answer for she could not think of any way Wynne could stir anything within the Everards. The very reason why he—or his family—would want to is even vague.

"That is what we intend to find out, is it not?" Samuel's eyes narrowed as he thought deeply. "He wants to worm into the Everards, thus he must find a way to be with the other members. He had been doing it for quite some time now. Your brothers may even consider him a friend if they are kind enough." He then paused and looked at Emma.

"What?" Emma asked.

"Yet," he said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair, "it seems that you are the only one he is interested in."

"Because I am your fiancée, that is why."

"Which is why we must feed him more."

"More what? More chance to execute their plans?"

Samuel nodded.

"I do not like that. It would be best if we stop him in time."

"No, he must show his true colors because we know that the Trilbys would never be caught unless they are caught in action."

"He is too complicated, Sam. For all we know, he would have too many facets that we'll find ourselves unarmed. I still do suggest we allow Margaret to do the proper investigation."

Samuel only shook his head. They had been through this argument before. It always ended with Emma wanting to involve Margaret and the League of Founders. He was fine with Margaret, but he was not certain he could trust the rest of the League.

He found Emma looking at him, a quizzical look on her face. "Are you not bothered that Wynne is getting too close to me?"

He scoffed, finding the question incredulous. "You know better, Em. He may get close to you, but he could never win your heart. No one would fall for that bastard. And you are mine now. Why would you be swayed?" When Emma remained silent, he sighed and added, "You are a smart woman who knows what she wants. I know you will soon come up with the answers. I am waiting for you to acknowledge that you love me more than you like me."

"I do appreciate your patience," she said, her lips forming a soft smile. But something in it did not settle well with Samuel. He ignored it, knowing Emma was simply bothered by too many issues at the moment.

"I am done being silent, Emma. I will tell you I love you whenever I get the chance. And I am confident you will soon do so as well."

When she did not reply, he decided to change the topic. "I already invited Wynne to the Theobald weekend ball."

Her brows rose. "And?"

"Of course, the bastard said yes," he supplied with excitement. "He would be away from his estate for a few days and we will have more time to penetrate the place."

Emma seemed not to have any comment and remained silent. The door to the parlor opened and Jefferson came in carrying a small note.

"This was sent for you, my lady," the butler said, handing Emma the note.

"Is it from him?" Samuel asked when Jefferson left the parlor.

Emma unfolded the note and nodded.

Sam inched forward in anticipation. "What does it say?"

She looked at him. "He wants me to come to the theatre this afternoon."

Samuel jumped to his feet. "Then you ought to go now. We want him to think you are eager to be in his presence. Feed his ego, Emma."

He grabbed his coat and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead.

"Do be careful. I shall come by your room tonight to see if you have arrived safely."

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"A café!" he replied. "To meet a dear friend."

*****

"Why are we hiding behind a curtain and in the dark?" Emma whispered to Wynne.

He leaned closer to whisper near her ear, "I cannot afford to be recognized."

"By whom?"

"The applicants," he replied, crossing one leg over the other, completely at ease in his position.

Emma, on the other hand, was very uncomfortable.

"Then who is doing the interview on your behalf?"

"Stella, of course," he said. "She is currently in a foul mood. She has an important place to go to this afternoon but she is stuck doing my job."

"Yet she is fine with that," she commented before she could stop herself.

"Of course. My success is her success."

They waited in silence for a few minutes before they heard footsteps from the other side of the curtain.

"Good afternoon," Emma heard Stella say, followed by the man's greeting. "I am sorry, sir, but I believe I have to decline your application. Thank you and good day."

Emma and Wynne turned to look at each other before they both leaned forward and peeked through the curtain flap.

"What is the matter—" Wynne started but Stella stopped the rest of his words by interjecting, "He is too short for me to kiss."

Emma and Wynne leaned back, contented with the reason.

"And why am I here?"

"You wanted to learn, did you not?" he replied.

"Yes, but not from behind a curtain."

"Listen to Stella's questions as the interview goes on. The best way to find another actor is to allow one of them to join the casting. They will be working together for a long time and it is necessary that they both have the same view of the story."

Emma nodded.

Another actor came in and this time, he stayed much longer. When done with the introductions, Stella began her questioning. "What do you think about Ellie's betrayal?"

The actor cleared his throat. Emma and Wynne listened intently. "She deserved what happened to her after what she did—"

"Thank you for your time," Stella interrupted.

Emma frowned. "Why did—"

"She is asking the questions as Ellie McPhee. And she is looking for an answer from Byron himself."

"Then what ought to be the correct answer?"

Wynne shrugged. "Ask Ellie McPhee," was his simple reply. When she continued to stare at him with confusion, he smiled. "You have to let your characters think for themselves, Emma. You created them, yes, but they are their own person the very moment you introduced them to the story."

They heard Stella let out a sigh before she loudly said, "This is an utter waste of my afternoon, Wynne. The next actor is late."

"But he could be Byron," Wynne replied.

Stella accepted the argument and excused herself to get a glass of water before the next actor arrived.

Emma turned to Wynne. "Are you attending the Theobald weekend ball?"

"Yes."

She nodded. She already knew that.

"How are you friends with Stella?"

When he did not answer right away, Emma turned to him and found that he was looking at her. She moistened her lips and leaned away an inch, her heart starting to race against her chest. It must be the heat of the enclosed space.

"Her father was a prominent figure in the village near our estate. The man was friends with my father and he often brought Stella along with him. We played together as children."

Emma nodded. If he was to be believed, then it was indeed true that Stella was loyal to him. She was a friend.

Emma reached for the curtain and peeked outside. Stella's chair was still empty, but she could hear some voices outside. The actor must have already arrived.

"Do you have nothing to do at home?" Wynne asked behind her. She looked over her shoulder. He was still looking at her. Half of his face was shadowed. Just like his true self, Emma thought.

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked.

"You came to me immediately after I sent the note." She blinked in disbelief. Came to me? No, she came to the theatre, not to him! Before she could start her argument, he dared add, "You do not seem to be interested in wedding Samuel at all, Emma, considering you do not appear to be someone who is planning a wedding."

What was he trying to do now? Why was he doing this? How did he want her to react? The questions were endless, but the answers were lesser than none.

"You do not know a lot of things to offer judgment," was all she could manage.

His brows cocked. "Oh, but I do."

"You know a lot of things about me? How so?"

"No, I simply know a lot of things. I have been through enough to know the extent of people's deviousness and kindness, for one." He cocked his head toward the curtain. "Which is perhaps why my play is a success. I see through everyone's lives." Emma swallowed. She was seeing a different side of him again. And he was provoking her. But what for? Why? Why the sudden change of mood? Why did she see a tinge of anger in his eyes? "Have you?" he asked her. "Have you been through enough, Emma? Seen enough to write your own story?"

"Not to a point," she murmured, eyes locked with his. "But I have witnessed how hope overflows in times of despair. It is a powerful thing and it naturally comes to people. I can start from there. Every story has a story of hope."

"Just as you hope that your decision to wed Samuel is actually the proper thing to do, albeit not entirely the right one."

Her jaw tightened. She was getting angry. "I know it is the right thing to do."

"Because you've been found in bed with him?"

Her face flushed and just as when she was about to explode, he chuckled. "Samuel did not have to tell me the details for me to know, so do not be ashamed, Emma. Not when you barely remember anything from that night."

She stiffened. "How did you—"

"A man who can manage to give a woman a memorable night can manage to make her say yes the very next morning."

"What?" she cried incredulously. "I am not like those women!"

His gaze grew darker as his eyes traveled down her lips. "Perhaps you have never been truly loved, Emma."

"Samuel—"

"Samuel loves the beauty of your mind. But has he ever told you how he loves you as a woman?" Emma could not even swallow for her throat had gone dry. And her heart seemed to have stopped. Wynne leaned closer and merely stopped when their nose were merely an inch apart. "Has he ever showed it?"

She lied, "Yes." Lying was her best weapon at that point.

But it was clear that he did not believe her. "I can do it," he shamelessly said. "With utter confidence." When Emma flushed with irritation and something else, he laughed. "I am merely jesting, Emma." His laughter died as he reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. "You are sweating."

She brushed his hand away. "Because it is hot in here," she snapped, turning away from him. "And don't you dare make advances on me, Wynne Hastings, because I know—" she stopped when they heard footsteps coming back into the room.

"You know what?" he whispered beside her.

Emma ignored him and listened as another set of footsteps followed the first one.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Stella.

"That is not the welcome I was expecting, Stella," a man's voice replied.

Both Emma and Wynne moved forward and peeked through the small gap of the curtains. A handsome young man was standing in the middle of the room.

"Do you truly think you will be welcome here?" Stella demanded.

"Well, you are the actress, not the director," said the man, looking around. His blonde hair seemed to make him glow under the light above him.

"You are not an actor. Go away, Sandre."

The man smiled as his eyes focused back on Stella. "It is nice to hear you call me by that name."

"Please, go before I call for the footmen."

"I was hoping to be interviewed."

"I said, you are not an actor. Remove yourself from here!" was Stella's angry outburst.

The man held up his hands. "I shall for today, but you cannot run away from me forever, Stella. And your dear protector cannot protect you forever."

"Oh, believe me—I can run away from you forever because that is how desperate I am. Now, go."

The man looked around the room. "The pay must be tremendous for you to stay here this long. You must be keeping him happy if he is this willing to keep you."

Stella did not offer a word.

"Very well, I will see you some other time. Now that I know where you've been hiding..."

Stella turned and opened the curtain widely, surprising Emma. The sudden burst of light was not as blinding as the rage in Stella's eyes. "I am done for today," she announced to Wynne before sharply turning away to leave the room.

"What happened?" Emma found herself asking, still quite surprised by the sudden turn of events. "Who was that man?"

Wynne seemed unperturbed as he stood and guided Emma to do the same by holding her hand. "You mean that man?"

"Yes, who is he—"

"Ah, he is Stella's fiancé."

Emma's eyes went wide. "Fiancé?"

Wynne nodded, the corner of his lips twitching. "You are not the only one who is set to marry the man she does not love."