London, England, 1887 -

I pressed my face against the window of my private rooms, watching the rain pelting down outside, creating puddles of mud on the sidewalk as horse drawn carriages ambled down the streets.

It was not uncommon weather for London, but no less depressing. Just as depressing as my life was sure to become after this evening.

There was a gentle knock on the door and the voice of James, my valet, carried through into the room. "Excuse me, sir?"

I blew out a sigh and leaned away from the window. "You might as well come in, James."

The door opened a moment later and James entered, looking as uptight and stuffy as he normally did with his carefully slicked back gray hair and bow tie.

"Yes?"

"Your mother wishes to know if you're ready to depart?" James asked, bowing his head respectfully.

"Unfortunately," I replied, straightening out my shirt sleeves. "If I'm being forced to endure this insipid dinner party, I suppose I can at least look presentable."

Something like an amused smile might have crossed James' face as he approached me, reaching out to reposition my bowtie.

"I am not sure, sir, if I would be quite as miffed about the evening as you appear to be. I hear that it is quite the honor to be the guests of the Lord and Lady Bradley."

A harsh bark of laughter escaped from me before I could stop it. "That may be so, James, but I'm not interested in the slightest, to be perfectly honest with you. What is the point of all of this?"

"I believe the situation has been adequately explained, sir, " James said. "You are nineteen years of age. It is time that you begin the necessary steps to take over Townsend Co., and some would say high past time you took a wife."

It was all I could do to keep back a disgruntled groan. As much as I wanted it to be the exact opposite, James was correct.

Being the only child and sole heir to my father's business and considerable fortune, it was expected of me to take over as head of the company. Being one of the largest textile manufacturers in England was no laughing matter.

And like every other eligible young man in the city, it was also required of me to marry and produce as many male progeny as possible.

This was what my life was soon to become, and it felt as if it had barely begun.

"Right," I said, unable to keep back a heavy sigh. "I suppose that's true on some level."

"I hear Madeline Bradley is quite a desirable young lady," James continued as he moved on to my cuff links. "And her father is a member of the House of Lords and is apparently very wealthy."

I suppose James was right in saying so again, but I had yet to meet Miss Madeline Bradley. It wouldn't matter if she was Aphrodite incarnate - I had no desire to marry or have children.

"Come now, sir," James said, taking a step back. "I believe your mother and father are ready to depart shortly."

"Of course," I said, slipping into my dinner jacket. "Better late than never, I suppose."

James clapped me on the shoulder, and it might have been a trick of the fire crackling in the grate across the room, but there was a sympathetic look on his face.

"If I may be so bold, sir..."

"By all means, James, please do."

"Do try and maintain a positive attitude this evening. Your very future may rest upon the outcome of this dinner party, however insipid you may believe it to be."

It was difficult to hold back laughter.

I had been born and raised in the thick of London Society. I knew how the elite operated and how loose their morals seemed to be, particularly where finances were concerned.

I wasn't an idiot, and neither was James. A marriage between the Townsends and the Bradleys would surely be the headline of any newspaper. It would be a financial asset on my family's behalf, as well as Miss Madeline Bradley's.

Why my parents felt it necessary to use me as a pawn to make headlines I would never know. They would never outwardly admit such, but I knew better.

I was perfectly aware of the duties that needed to be carried out as the eldest male, and as much as I despised them, I knew I would not renege.

But that did not mean I was required to be pleasant about it.

"I give you my word, James, that I will behave accordingly," I assured him.

I left my rooms, not giving James the chance to notice the grimace upon my face, and walked down the hallway, towards the staircase.

Noise was echoing up the stairs, the sound of rapid conversation, footsteps on the tile as people rushed about.

Apart from our household staff, my parents, myself, and my grandmother, Lady Alice Townsend, were the only occupants of this residence. It wasn't usually hectic here, more calm and at ease, but there had been a noticeable strain in the house since the announcement of the dinner party.

It seemed everyone had at least some small thing resting on this damned dinner party.

It took a large amount of self control on my part not to stomp my feet as I made my way down the stairs.

Here goes nothing, I thought miserably when I saw my mother appraising her appearance in the front hall mirror as I came down the stairs.

She turned around at the sound of my approach and a smile graced her rather beautiful features. My mother had been considerably young when she married my father and subsequently gave birth to me a year later. She was not yet thirty-five, her hair smooth and blonde, her aristocratic features untouched by time.

I understood why my father had fallen in love with her and married her despite general disapproval. The fact that my mother had come with a considerable dowry helped assuage the public's distaste, but the fact that her roots were as French as they came? Not so easily forgiven.

"There you are, Percy," my mother said, coming forward with an outstretched hand. "I was beginning to think you'd hidden yourself away upstairs."

If only, I thought wistfully.

"Hardly," I said before kissing her hand. "I am...quite looking forward to the evening's festivities."

My mother didn't seem to notice the sarcasm in my voice, and only smiled eagerly in agreement.

"Indeed," she said. "I hear that the Lord and Lady Bradley are known for their hospitality, and rather marvelous parties."

It seemed to me that the only information about the Lord and Lady Bradley available was passed through the grapevine. I did not find that so encouraging.

"Is that so?" I said weakly. "How...pleasant."

"Oh, don't look so nervous, Percy," my mother said, patting my cheek. "I can assure you, the evening will go exactly as planned."

"The boy has every reason to be nervous, Helene, when you talk like that," a stern voice said from behind me. "This is a dinner party, not a celebration for the Queen's golden jubilee."

I offered my arm to my grandmother, Lady Alice Townsend, as she descended the stairs. She was dressed for the evening in modest attire, per usual, and a formidable expression was on her time-weathered face, as was also the norm. Despite her appearance, my grandmother was a kind old woman with a penchant for stealing biscuits from the kitchen. My grandmother could always be counted on to share these biscuits with me and tell me that I was her favorite grandchild. Granted, I was her only grandchild, but I believed that was beside the point.

"Quite true, mother, but we all have high hopes for Percy," my mother said, sending another smile my way.

"Of course we do," my grandmother scoffed. "He's my grandson. How could anyone else compare?"

It was nice of my grandmother to say, but I did hope she would refrain from saying such things later on. I did not think anyone, let alone Madeline Bradley, would be impressed if my character was being vouched for by my grandmother the entire evening.

"Are we all finished discussing Percy's future? Because the groomsman just informed me we're ready to depart."

I turned at the sound of the stern voice echoing down the hall and saw my father leaving his study, making his way towards us.

I looked very much like my father; we were of equal height and stature, shared the same facial features, but my hair was darker in color, and my eyes were the exact same as my mother's. Save for our appearance, I did not share much else with my father. Saying we were of differing opinions about most everything in general would be putting it mildly.

"You look ravishing, my dear," my father said to my mother, inclining his head before kissing her outstretched hand.

"And what, no word for your mother?" my grandmother said, whacking my father round the knees with her cane.

My father winced but quickly smoothed his expression before kissing my grandmother's hand. "Enchanting, as always, mother."

My grandmother sniffed, snatching her hand back. "Well, shall we get on with it?"

We left our residence and situated ourselves in the family carriage before the coachmen took off, navigating the horses through the packed streets towards the Bradley residence.

I pressed my face against the cool glass of the window, watching the way the wheels splashed water onto the sidewalk as the carriage traversed through puddles.

It was of popular opinion that the gender most prone to fits of melancholy were females, but the description felt oddly fitting for myself this evening.

Despite my my family's considerable fortune, I had never once left England. And if I was being forced to marry, I doubted I ever would. The company would solder me to London, its ties unbreakable. I was sure I was going to spend the remainder of my years in London.

I must have dozed off contemplating my miserable existence, because soon enough my grandmother was whacking me in the shin with her cane and barking, "Sit upright, boy!"

My father gave me a look that somehow managed to be both disappointed and disapproving as I sat upright, rubbing a hand across my now numb cheek. My mother seemed to be oblivious to the sudden tension, no doubt excited about the upcoming festivities.

"I trust you are looking forward to meeting Miss Bradley," my father said to me politely, though the implication in his voice was perfectly clear.

You will not mess up this evening by any means.

It took a herculean amount of effort not to reply with some sarcastic quip. "Of course, father," I said. "I've heard many a story about her gentle character and renowned beauty."

"Oh, I have no doubt she'll make a fine wife, Percy," my mother said, reaching over to squeeze my forearm.

I fought back the urge to bang my head against the carriage window. I hadn't even met the girl before, and already we were discussing our future together as if it were a done deal. My only hope was that Madeline Bradley would be as disgusted with our parents' conduct as I was.

The Bradley's London residence was close to Tottenham Court Road, and the narrow streets were congested as our coachman pulled our carriage to a stop.

"'Fraid this is as close as I'm going to be able to get," the coachman said when he pulled open the carriage door. "Hope you don't mind a bit of a walk, my lady."

Far from being aggravated, my mother was all but vibrating on the spot with excitement. "Not at all, not at all!"

It was a bit amusing listening to my grandmother's annoyed grumblings as I helped her down from the carriage. The rain had fortunately let up sometime during our journey, but there was a biting chill to the air that made me long for a heavier coat.

"One would have you think this is the event of the season," I heard my grandmother gripe under her breath as she shrewdly inspected the other guests entering the Bradley residence.

There really were quite a number of people that had ventured out this evening. It looked more like we had been invited to attend a ball rather than what was supposedly a simple dinner party.

Standing in the ornate, marble entrance hall, greeting guests, was a rather attractive couple that I assumed to be the Lord and Lady Bradley. Lord Bradley stood tall and proud, ever the proper English gentleman, and Lady Bradley was petite and rather beautiful, quiet as she stood at her husband's side. They looked the part of a wealthy, respectable couple in a position of power, and I could not have felt more distant from them. I found it next to impossible to believe that they would want me to marry their daughter.

"Augustus!" Lord Bradley looked considerably more animated when my father not-so-tactfully steered us towards them as we entered. "Simply splendid you could make it!"

I purposely let my mind wander as my parents conversed with the Lord and Lady Bradley, most likely having a discussion that did not interest me in the slightest.

There was an orchestra situated further within the house, and soft, pleasing music echoed out to meet us. The chatter of conversation was inescapable, and I found it dissolving into a dull buzz inside my skull.

"And this must be young Percy!"

Somehow I managed to pull myself to the present and find some sense of decorum to respond to Lord Bradley's statement. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my lord. It was most kind of you to extend an invitation for your gathering to my family."

"Not at all, not at all," Lord Bradley said, vigorously shaking my hand. "I've heard quite a few tales about you from your father. If I remember correctly, you'll be taking steps to take over as head of company after the New Year, is that right?"

My gut constricted at his words, and I felt rather as if I were about to vomit. I felt my father's piercing gaze boring a hole into the side of my head when a few moments of silence had passed as I struggled to respond to Lord Bradley's question.

"That is...correct," I finally managed, sounding winded.

Lord Bradley seemed pleased with my answer, however short of breath I had suddenly become. Perhaps my family name alone was enough to impress the masses, though I knew I was far from what a respectable gentleman should be.

"That is quite the accomplishment, Percy, for someone as young as yourself," Lady Bradley said as she smiled courteously at me.

"Thank you, my lady."

I was growing more and more uncomfortable by the moment, and I very much wanted a sinkhole to appear in the floor and swallow me whole. The situation was made all the worse by my mother's next statement.

"I trust your daughter is enjoying the festivities?"

It's quite possible it was simply a figment of my imagination, but I was almost positive my parents and Lord and Lady Bradley exchanged unmistakeable smug looks with one another.

"Oh, Madeline simply adores parties," Lady Bradley said with an attractive laugh. "She was all too eager to assist with the preparations for this evening."

"Yes, I daresay that is a trait she inherited from you, my dear," Lord Bradley said with a fond look for his wife.

Excellent, I found myself thinking. What a relief it was to discover my supposed intended would love to plan our wedding.

I heard my grandmother mutter so subtle under her breath as everyone laughed.

"Percy, be a dear and find me a place rest these old bones," my grandmother said, thumping her cane. "I cannot stay on my feet longer than a few minutes these days it seems."

I very nearly let a sigh of relief escape that surely would have earned me a flogging once the evening was out.

"Of course, grandmother," I said quickly as my mother and Lady Bradley tutted like mother hens, no doubt concerned for my grandmother's wellbeing.

I mustered up an apology for Lord and Lady Bradley, and led my grandmother away, down the marble hallway where most of the conversation seemed to be wafting from. With any luck, I would find my a chair for my grandmother, and maybe a glass of brandy to keep her happy.

"Would it be dramatic of me to thank you for my escape?" I asked her once we were out of hearing range.

"Don't be ridiculous," my grandmother scoffed. "I really must sit down. I find myself quite tired already."

Had it not been for the small twitch of her lips, I would've believed her.

We then entered a room that was not quite a ballroom, but grand enough to pass as one. Mirrors decorated the walls, as well ornate flower arrangements placed strategically about the room, and impressive chandeliers were bolted to the ceiling. A large number of people were milling about, their conversation pleasantly dulled by the ensemble of musicians in the corner.

"There should be just fine," my grandmother said, pointing to a window seat with her cane. "And while I still have you, fetch me something to drink, won't you?"

"Of course, grandmother."

Once she was settled, I caught the attention of one of the servers carrying a tray of drinks, and then delivered it to my grandmother.

"Well, go on, then," she said, waving me away once she had her drink.

I was only too eager to oblige.

I left the room, wondering if there was any possible way I could escape without being noticed. Given my mother's tendency of hovering, I surmised I had about five minutes before someone would hunt me down, most likely to introduce me to Madeline Bradley.

I walked down the hallway away from the main entrance, thankful the lighting was much dimmer in this area rather than anywhere else in the house. I was sure I was heading towards a more private quarter, but I considered this to be a far better alternative rather than interacting with anyone at this damned party.

I rounded the corner and was plunged into near pitch darkness. I sunk my teeth into my lip to keep from crying out as I nearly tripped over my feet and landed face first on the floor.

Why the Bradleys would have felt the need to keep this part of their house so dark I didn't understand. It was the first floor. I didn't think I could be the only one to venture into this part of the house.

Somehow I managed to keep a sense of balance as I tentatively walked forward. I would have walked with a hand against the wall if I knew where the wall actually was. Why was it so cursedly dark back here?

I thought the flashes of unusually green light up ahead might have been a figment of my imagination, but they grew more and more pronounced the further I stumbled along.

"Hello?"

Perhaps it wasn't smart of me to call out, but I heard harsh muttering growing increasingly louder.

"For the love of - Christ! Work, dammit!"

In the brief flashes of light that emanated up ahead, I could see the outline of some Persian rug, so the floor hadn't suddenly dropped out from beneath me. Why was it so dark then? I did not imagine the Bradleys couldn't afford to light all of their lodging.

"Hello?" I called out again. "Pardon me, but is everything alright?"

There was a loud thunk, the sound of something rolling across wooden floorboards. "A plague upon both your houses!"

Shakespeare?

"Excuse me?" I repeated loudly. "Is everything alright?"

I came to a stop outside the door where the green light seemed to be originating from, and I could now hear a low, intense buzzing, along with the same aggravated voice's continued cursing.

I moved a hand along the wall until I felt the smooth wood of what I assumed was the door to the room, and reached for the doorknob.

There was an unusual, suction like force wrenching the door off its hinges the moment I turned the handle. The room appeared to be a study, Lord Bradley's I presumed, and I could make out the figure of a man standing at the large desk, his back turned to me. Some sort of apparatus on the desk, hidden from sight, must have been the source of the green light.

It occurred to me that I should have left well enough alone and retreated as soon as I saw the man in the room, but for some unknown reason, I remained standing in the doorway. Whatever this was surely had to be more interesting than returning to the evening's festivities. 

"Pardon me, sir, but are you alright?" I said without thinking. "You seem to - "

The man whipped around, and in the brief moment his face was illuminated by the unusual green light, I saw distinct, rather grisly burn scars decorating the left side of his face, causing his left eye to sag downwards. "What the devil are you - "

There was an explosion.

I felt myself being thrown backwards, slamming into some wall. And that is the last thing I can recall.  

______________________________________

So, I'm very excited to be posting this new piece of work! I'm not sure how many of you amazing readers remember the very early draft of this story I posted a few years  back, but after name changes and plot rearrangements, I've decided to bring it back! 

Each chapter will alternate between Percy's point of view, and Callie's, our new leading lady. 

I'm very much looking forward to writing this and sharing with all of you lovely people, so please don't hesitate to drop a comment with your thoughts!

I still fully intend to publish chapters of "Eyes Open" for all of you Hadley and Archer fans, so fear not! Keep a look out for them!