MANY MONTHS LATER

"What do you suppose this family dinner will be about?" Ralph asked out of nowhere.

"Our mother always invents occasions for dinner. For all we know we are to celebrate the first year of your leg's survival. How the bloody hell would I know?" Nicholas asked with a frown, his attention on the paper in his hand.

Ralph ignored his statement by cocking a brow. "I have always thought you never learned to read."

Nicholas glared at his brother over the copy of the Herald. Ralph chuckled for a while. As his laughter died down he groaned and brushed his fingers through his hair. "Ah, I am too bloody bored."

"We can go for a longer hunting trip in a fortnight," Nicholas offered, turning a page.

"No, I was referring to my mission."

Nicholas drew a long breath and rolled his eyes behind the paper. "You say that too bloody often."

"Because it is true," Ralph said, coming to his feet. "The culprit is the mistress and I know it. The problem now is how to tell the grieving widow."

"Send the woman a missive," Nicholas offered. "Dearest Mrs. Firefox, your husband was poisoned by whom we suspect to be his mistress who, by happenstance, also happens to be your neighbor. The noises you hear through the walls those nights your husband is away should also no longer be a mystery. We shall conduct a thorough investigation following this suspicion. The bored Town Guard, Ralph Everard."

His brother let out a scoff. "If that is only possible," Ralph muttered, refilling his brandy. "Anyhow, I ought to break the news by the morrow to start questioning."

"It is Sunday. Church," Nicholas reminded.

Ralph cursed under his breath. "Monday then."

"You promised to take Emma to the modiste."

"Bloody hell. Then when?"

"You are the Town Guard," Nicholas replied, flipping another page.

A quiet fell in the room until Ralph settled back in his seat. Nicholas could feel his brother's gaze through the sheets of paper before him. "The League refuses to disclose any information about the man we captured since they took over the entire bloody case."

Nicholas' jaw tightened. "You mean since your mission was snatched out of your hands."

A sound close to a whine escaped Ralph. "The bloody bastards took everything."

"Including all your notes."

"Yes, and now they run about town under disguise. Not even our own sister will tell us anything."

"Perhaps you can leave the Guards and join them. Do not whine about spilled milk, brother."

"Should I take the bandit case?"

"What bandit case?"

"The southern bandits, ones just off Tiny Town."

"You mean the ones near the dark forest." Nicholas peered over the paper. "You still hope you can gather more information for the slave case?"

Ralph shook his head. "No. As much as I wish to be part of it," he said, slapping his thigh, "I cannot let mother suffer the same way like before. I must wait another year or two until I try a mission as big as the slave trade." When Nicholas offered no reply, Ralph frowned. "What the bloody hell are you reading?"

"Durley and his empire," he muttered, blindly reaching for his drink. "He is quite a busy man ever since he came out to society."

Ralph's face darkened. "I have heard the ladies talk about him just yesterday. They are in love with the man."

"Well, he is striking," Nicholas muttered, face serious as he looked at Durley's large still picture printed on the Herald. The man was indeed striking and he was too bloody rich. "But not as handsome as I, of course," he said with a sigh.

Ralph chuckled. "Things are changing, big brother. Merely a year ago you were the most sought-after bachelor in Wickhurst. But now here comes Durley. He is tall, well-built, a charmer and he owns the bloody firm that publishes the Herald itself. No wonder that woman betrayed you."

His jaw tightened. He was grateful he never shared everything to Ralph, even more so when he managed to act as though leaving Rock'oles was the easiest thing he had ever done. "Along with another secret business that is composed of hundreds of slaves you say?" he said instead, ignoring Ralph's last comment. "And speaking of the Herald, no wonder there was no mention of his illegal activities, eh? The bastard has it all figured out, I dare say."

Ralph shrugged. "Whatever he is planning is no longer a concern to us. Even Margaret will have nothing to do with the slavery mission of the League now."

"It is if the man graces all social events with Osegod himself."

"Fret not, brother," said Ralph dismissively. "Margaret will give us warning should there be any sign that Osegod is upon us. Again, that is."

Nicholas sighed and set the Herald aside, crossing his leg over the other as he studied Ralph. It was merely years ago when his brother was naught but a young schoolboy who had endless squabbles and banters with the twins. Now they were bloody talking about politics and conspiracies. And women.

The memory of Sophia's mocking smile from his last visit in Rock'oles a year ago flashed at the back of his mind. They had ceased to haunt him for months now but perhaps because of the bloody article about Durley, they came back like a nightmare in his waking hours. As to his nights, she was a frequent visitor and he would often wake up wanting her.

He had simmered down the anger and shame curling in the pit of his stomach. Not for his sanity but for his brother who was obviously still not over what happened at the ambush. Ralph still refused to talk about the details of the incident and Nicholas would often catch him massaging his right thigh in rare occasions. If anyone else had noticed it or was concerned over Ralph's avoidance to talk about it, Nicholas never knew because it would be a futile effort to force Ralph to sit down and tell them everything.

From the corner of his eye, he saw half of Durley's still picture on the folded copy of the Herald. After what happened in the ambush, after one of his men was captured and while Ralph and the others were mourning over the loss of two of their own, Durley shortly came out to society and everyone feasted on the handsome, rich young lord from nowhere.

The ton cared not that his past was hazy for it seemed that they do love the mystery. And not one maiden and their mothers were heard complaining that he owned Rock'oles. He was striking and tall, he owned the bloody Herald amongst many other businesses and he was within, even higher, their class. That was all that mattered to them.

But Nicholas and some other men who had heard of Durley before he became everyone's favorite subject knew better.

What are you planning, Durley?

*****

Their mother broke the usual ruckus between Emma and Ralph by gracefully planting her palms on the table and clearing her throat to say, "Now, children, could you please gather a tiny bit of decorum as I make an announcement?"

Ralph threw Emma an angry look but did not say anything further. Emma, on the other hand, turned her attention on Mrs. Beagle, caressing the cat.

Nicholas shared a look with the feline. If it could speak, would it be mocking him? After all, it was a bloody witness to how he had made a fool of himself for months a year ago.

Once, when Mrs. Beagle first returned after Nicholas left Rock'oles, he had demanded to Emma that she throw the cat away. He did not spare the cat of the loathing he felt toward its other mistress. And for more than a month Nicholas refused to visit the Everard estate simply because of the bloody cat. Only when he heard of the news that it went missing again did he return only to disappear yet again when it came back. But as the months wore on, he had gotten accustomed to the cat's presence again, his hatred toward it numbing as Nicholas managed to successfully lock away all memories of Rock'oles.

"Now, is the bantering postponed?" their mother asked.

There were merely five of them around the table, six including Lady Alice. Ysabella and Wakefield were seated at each side of their mother, Ralph next to Wakefield and across from him was Emma. Nicholas was sitting beside Ralph, eager to finish the dinner and go back to his apartment.

"If Emma provides a sufficient reason as to why Samuel was here this morning, I shall rest my case," Ralph uttered, glaring at Emma.

"As I have iterated earlier," Emma wryly uttered, "I do not have to answer to you, Ralph, but since you seem to be overly protective over your friend, I assure you that he merely came here to deliver a book and the invite. I did not debauch him if that is your concern."

"What book?"

"One I have been looking for a long time," Emma snapped.

"And the invite," Lady Alice interjected with a smile, one she wore almost always, "is from the Theobalds."

Wakefield, Ralph and Nicholas groaned.

The three ladies turned to look at them with corresponding frowns.

"Of course, the Theobald party," Ralph uttered with a sigh. He turned to their mother and said, "and this dinner's purpose is to coerce us into coming to attend."

Their mother's blue eyes went round with mocking hurt and surprise. "My, son, whatever made you think I shall mellow down my coercions?"

Ysabella and Emma snorted in laughter.

"Bloody great," Nicholas groaned.

"Language, son," their mother warned sternly. "Now," she said, looking at Nicholas and Ralph. "This shall be the first Theobald party Maxine shall attend as herself and she needs our utter support."

"She only needs Maxwell, mother," Nicholas said. "The mere sight of him would silence the gossipmongers. In fact, it would scare the lot of them."

"Nonsense," Lady Alice said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Beatrice will not be subjected to society's ire because her family is not present to defend and protect her. My granddaughter will have naught but a very normal life and she shall not suffer the same way her mother did."

All Everard children knew that whenever Lady Alice talked about her grandchildren, she was at her utmost serious and sane state of mind. They all fell silent.

Lady Alice smiled with contentment. "Good. Now, we shall assure your new niece's future by showing your support for this Theobald party, meaning the entire Theobald family. Understood?"

"Yes, mother," Ysabella and Emma murmured. Wakefield, Ralph and Nicholas nodded.

"Good!" their mother said jovially. "This shall be the first time that the Everard family will be complete at the ball."

Ralph frowned. "By everyone, Mother, do you mean including the children?"

Lady Alice smiled. "Everyone, son. Everyone."

"This will be a ruckus, I swear on it," said Ralph. He turned to Wakefield and asked, "By any chance, is Ysa with child? Might as well bring an unborn babe to join the rumpus."

Ysabella narrowed her eyes at Ralph. "Are you mocking us?"

Ralph blanched. "No, of course not! It was an innocent question!"

"Simply because we believe we ought to wait does not mean we cannot have a babe!" Ysabella gritted out.

"Darling, I believe Ralph was merely—"

"No, he has deliberately—"

"Oh, for the love of all that's holy, let us continue the meal!" their mother said with a sigh. "And perhaps you can continue your very decent discussion over tea."

Nicholas chuckled, gaining his mother's attention.

"And Nicholas, dear, you look like hell. Find yourself a valet, for God's sake, and have yourself trimmed."

"He is inclined never to have one, mother," Ralph reminded everyone with a laugh.

"A trim or a valet?" their mother asked.

"Both!" Ralph cried out with a chuckle.

"William can order Morris to come by your apartment, Nick," was Ysabella's offer. "He served him as valet for many years before he became the butler."

"Morris, my dear," Wakefield grimly uttered, "will merely scare all chances of considering a new valet for Nicholas."

"But Morris is—"

"Too nosy, darling."

"Too endearing!"

Wakefield sighed. "Very well." He turned to Nicholas and forced a smile. "Morris can come by your apartment on the morrow. But do be sure to not say a word that would entice his curiosity. You will not appreciate it. Have him do all a valet ought to do and instruct him never to open your letters, your books—in short, do not allow him entry into your study."

"That is settled," Lady Alice said before Nicholas could refuse the offer. "You all come to the Theobald party at your best condition. Oh, this will be a marvelous occasion."

"Just make certain the nannies will be there, Mother," Ralph said, "for as much as I love the children, I do not think I can spend the entire weekend chasing after them or vice versa."

"Yes, this party definitely warrants the presence of the nannies," Nicholas concurred.

"Fret not over the children. They are not expected to grace the parties as I believe they will enjoy it more than we all will in one wing of the manor where they can run about and cause ruckus without judgment," their mother said with a sigh.

"If that is the case, I volunteer as nanny," Nicholas offered in jest. But in his mind he was dreading the Theobald party.

One could never know what shall arise from one of the Town's most famous occasions.

*****

Sophia was working on her latest project when the secret door to her chamber opened. She listened to Marcus' soft footsteps, her hands still working on a mound of clay.

For nearly a year now, she had found a leisure pursuit that helped calm her mind. It was Marcus' idea to have clays delivered to her chamber. At first she was curious and doubtful whether or not he was being serious. But he almost begged her to try molding a simple structure.

Often she wondered if Marcus knew the extent of her despair those first months after the ambush. She wondered if her brother was trying to gain her forgiveness by giving her something she could love.

And Sophia did learn to love molding structures. And perhaps she did manage to forgive Marcus despite what she believed that there was none to give for both of them were responsible for all their actions.

"Another project?" he asked, sitting across from her.

"You are blocking my light, Marcus," she murmured, narrowing her eyes on the bust of head in front of her. She had been working on it for nearly a month yet she could not quite perfect it. She had naught to work on but her touch and the shadows she created.

Her fingers paused when she heard Marcus sigh. She looked up to find his silhouette facing her from across the table.

"Is it time?" she asked without requiring a word.

"Yes."

Sophia leaned back and reached for her cloth, barely touching the book that had been untouched for nearly a year. She never had the stomach to touch it or put it away even when Lord Cigar ceased his visits. Her brother had announced that all transactions shall be delivered straight to him as Sophia was occupied with a different mission.

The men and the slave trade were no longer of paramount concern, he had said. They had to make haste with their plans after the ambush.

And so he came out to society as Lord Marcus Durley.

"I shall send a modiste by the morrow for fittings," Marcus said.

"Whatever for? I have enough at my disposal."

"The Town ought to see your beauty, my dear." He reached out to take her hand. "But if you change your mind and would rather stay here instead, I can find a different form of—"

Sophia shook her head. "No. This is the plan I agreed on many years ago. Despite what happened, this is what I consented to do to help you." She forced a smile on her lips. "Have the modiste come on the morrow. You have gone to great lengths to acquire an invite for the Theobald party and I will be there with you."