Hello and welcome back to a Victorian Legacy after what turned out to be a longer break than I had anticipated. But I‟m back and I‟m ready to get on with telling this story.

As always, I recommend that you‟ve read at least the previous few chapters, but here‟s a little recap just in case you haven‟t. The generation five heir, Bertie is currently at New Simbridge University. There, now removed from the support of his emotional crutch, his brother Stuart, he has started to gain confidence in his own abilities and own worth.

He also met the Sartor sisters, and although Lauren was charming and engaging, her twin Sophia was rude and insufferable, insisting that when it came to his father‟s music, she had knowledge he did not. Bertie invited her to one of Eddie‟s concerts, only to humiliate her. Taking umbrage at this, Sophia vowed not to have anything more to do with that hateful man, which was just fine with Bertie, since he wanted nothing more to do with that insufferable woman.

It would have been very simple, if either had been able to stop thinking about the other.

There were several other important developments, but that‟s all you need to know for the start of the chapter. Now on with the show!

Midsummer had been and gone in Simland, leaving in its wake an intense heat which made the

students at New Simbridge sluggish and unwilling to study. They had taken to lazing around in

one of the parks or down by the river, waiting for glimpses of the girls at the Acadamie as they

promenaded in an effort to keep cool themselves.

One group of students wasn‟t quite so lucky. Bertie was determined to build on the football

team‟s success the previous year and not just make it to the final this time, but also lift the trophy.

Therefore the team was still training several times a week, despite the heat meaning that several

team members, including Bertie, had taken to divesting themselves of part of their kits.

Such a training session had just finished. “Well done everyone,” said Bertie, beaming. “Even in

this heat you are all playing and practising superbly. That is it for today, but I will see you all on

Thursday, when hopefully it will be a tad cooler.”

As everyone started to collect their kits and amble away, Bertie started to go through his notes.

Soon it was just him and Andrew left by the side of the pitch. “We are missing Graves in

defence,” said Bertie looking down at his clipboard. “I might try McMurry there until we hold try

outs in a couple of weeks.”

Andrew nodded. “Good idea. Walker might be another to think about.”

Bertie was about to reply, when he saw Peter dashing towards them. His greeting died on his

lips when he saw the expression on his friend‟s face. “Andrew, we have to go home at once,” he

said going to straight to his twin. “Papa has just sent a telegram. Grandmamma died this

morning.”

“Oh no, I am so sorry,” said Bertie as Andrew gaped at his brother.

“Have you told Celly?” Andrew asked at least, referring to the fact that their sister had started at

the Acadamie only a few short weeks before.

Peter shook his head. “I was going to go to the Acadamie once I had spoken to you.”

“I will come with you, then we‟ll take Celly back to the Legacy Society with us and go from there.

“Bertie, you do not mind finishing here?” asked Andrew.

Bertie shook his head. “Of course not. Go home, you are needed there. Please give everyone

my sympathies and condolences.”

Andrew nodded once, before he and his brother headed off in the direction of Princess Beatrice

House.

The three young men hadn't realised that they were being observed. The catcalls and stares had

finally proved too much for Sophia to stand, and so she had suggested to her sister that they take

their promenade along the open spaces lining the western part of the town. Lauren, rather

enjoying the attention of the university students had reluctantly agreed, knowing her sister would

keep on complaining until she did.

What Sophia hadn‟t expected, when she had suggested their new route, was that the sports

teams would still be training, and she certainly hadn‟t expected to be confronted with a half naked

sportsman.

“Lauren, is that a man in a state of dishabille over there?” she gestured to where Bertie, now

alone, was gathering everything together.

“I do believe it is,” replied Lauren, no where near as much disgust in her voice.

“How despicable of him, appearing thus in public where respectable young ladies such as

ourselves may be walking.” She was about to say that she had a good mind to go and tell him

so, when he turned towards them and straightened up. As she got a better look at him, her jaw

dropped. “Is that Mr Legacy?”

Lauren was also taking a good look at him. “I do believe it is.” She gave a sidelong glance to her

sister. “Well, this is fortuitous. You can thank him properly for his thoughtful gift, can you not?”

Sophia‟s mouth opened and closed like a fish, before she managed to blurt out “it was not a

thoughtful gift as you well know. He did it to spite me and prove he was right!”

“I do not believe that, and I refuse to think you do either. Not deep down,” admonished Lauren.

“Well,” Sophia sought a further excuse not to approach him. “How can I speak civilly to him when

he is in such a state of attire? It is unseemly.”

“I do not see why,” said Lauren causing her sister to look at her in amazement. “His

musculature reminds me of one of the statues you spent so long admiring in SimFlorence, so you

can hardly object to it on the grounds you have not seen the like before.”

Sophia turned her eyes heavenwards. “But they were lumps of stone, and not a man of my

acquaintance. One whom I have attended a concert and dined with.”

Lauren rolled her eyes. “Really Sophia, I would never have expected you to behave in such a

manner. Given that this is Mr Legacy we are talking about, and given the low opinion you have of

him, I would have thought that you would be more likely to run over there and give him what for,

for being undressed in public, not stand here exclaiming about how unseemly your behaviour

would be for speaking to him.

“I feel you protest too much, and I am going to and say hello to him.” She set off towards the

football pitch. After a momentary pause, Sophia followed.

“Mr Legacy!”

Bertie looked up as he heard himself being hailed. “Miss Lauren,” he said smiling at her. “And

Miss Sartor.” His grin grew even wider as he saw the older twin join her sister. Lauren hid a

small grin of her own as she noticed.

“I hope the two of you are well?” he asked.

“Very well thank you Mr Legacy,” replied Lauren. “We were just taking a stroll in order to try to

find some relief from the stuffy heat of the rooms at the Acadamie. We did try down by the river

first but it was too crowded there, was it not Sophia?”

Sophia started as her twin spoke to her. “Yes it was,” she replied, fixing her gaze on Bertie‟s

face.

In the gap in the conversation, Sophia became aware that Lauren was expecting her to broach

the next subject. She went to admonish him for his lack of clothing, but instead, found herself

saying “we could not help but notice your companions leaving very quickly. They are Celestia

Harrison's brothers are they not? We have seen them visiting her. I do hope that nothing is

amiss.”

“They are, yes, and unfortunately they have just received news that their grandmother has

passed away.”

“Oh how awful!” exclaimed Lauren.

“We will have to get Miss Harrison something as a token of our sympathy Sophia,” she continued,

but her sister hardly heard her. She had bowed her head in sympathy on hearing about Enid‟s

death, and was now finding her gaze being drawn to Mr Legacy‟s abdominal muscles. Lauren

was wrong, she decided. His musculature was quite unlike that of the statues in SimFlorence.

Theirs had been frozen in time, whereas his moved as he breathed. She was finding it quite

fascinating and was fighting the desire to touch them (strictly out of artistic curiosity of course).

“Even though you had saddening news to import, we are pleased to see you Mr Legacy, are we

not Sophia?”

Sophia tore her gaze away from Bertie‟s stomach and back to his face. “We are surprised to find

you here and thus attired at any rate,” she replied somewhat snappily.

Bertie looked down at himself and looked surprised to find himself shirtless. “I apologise,” he

said turning away and bending to retrieve his shirt, finding his watch and glancing at it as he did

so, “I got so hot during practice, I removed it and then quite forgot I had.”

He turned back to them, once more fully clothed and Sophia couldn't stop the small twinge of

regret that she would no longer be able to study his musculature.

“As I was saying,” said Lauren with a sidelong look at her sister. “We are pleased to see you.

Sophia wished to speak to you.”

“Oh?” Bertie turned his gaze to Sophia.

Sophia aimed a glare at her sister. “Oh, yes. I wished to thank you for your gift. It was very kind

of you to obtain the score of A Winter’s Requiem for me, although I did wonder if you had done

so only to prove your point over the key change.”

“Such a thought never crossed my mind,” replied Bertie truthfully. “I thought only that you might

like to have a copy of the music, given how much you enjoy listening to it.”

“Oh.” Sophia looked slightly abashed at his honesty. “In that case, I thank you for it.”

“You are more than welcome.” He looked from sister to sister. “Much as I would love to continue

our conversation, I am afraid I have a lecture soon, and must return home in order to put on more

appropriate attire.” Lauren noticed how he looked at Sophia as he said this and wondered if she

would pick up on how he was gently mocking her, and how she would react to it. She thought by

the way Sophia slightly raised her eyebrows that she had realised, but she chose to ignore it.

Instead she replied “then we really had better let you go Mr Legacy. Good day to you.”

“Good day Miss Sartor, Miss Lauren.” He inclined his head to them.

He watched them until they were nearly at the park behind the Fine Arts Building before turning

back to pick up the rest of the footballs. Seeing Miss Sartor had once more caused his thoughts

to become muddled, and how could he have forgotten he was half undressed? What must she

think of him? Well she must think him a boor that‟s what. And that bothered him for some

reason he couldn‟t quite put his finger on.

Sighing, he slung the sack which now contained all the balls onto his back and started for the

Legacy Society.

The house had been empty and eerily silent when Bertie had returned from football practice, so

he was very pleased to find Ezra standing in the hall, looking through some correspondence

when he returned from his lecture later that afternoon.

“Good afternoon Ezra,” he said as he shut the door.

Ezra looked up from the letter he was perusing, before placing the envelopes on the hall

sideboard. “Bertie. Sad news about Peter and Andrew‟s grandmother.”

Bertie nodded. “Yes. I expect I too will have to journey home for the funeral.”

“Of course,” replied Ezra. “She was your aunt, was she not?”

“My great aunt, yes.” He was about to lament to passing of his grandfather's siblings, when there

was a crash from upstairs, followed by a barrage of swearing.

“Do you need assistance?” called Bertie as he looked up the stairs.

“No, I am more than capable of manoeuvring this bloody trunk through this door, I assure you,”

replied Christopher as he peered round the door to his bedroom. “But I have discovered that it

greatly speeds the process if I do not try to carry my easel through at the same time.”

“Trunk?” said Bertie as he watched Christopher edge said trunk through the door and down the

stairs. “Are you … off somewhere?”

“SimParis!” exclaimed Christopher straightening up. “It is an art trip. Or rather, mostly an art trip.

We leave early tomorrow morning, and when I was speaking to Bethany about it, she begged me

to be organised for once in my life, and get everything ready the night before.”

Ezra gave a smile at the mention of his fiancée.

“I have to say, she was making sense,” continued Christopher. “This way, I will not be rushing

around at goodness knows what time of the clock, trying to locate my second best waistcoat, or

best braces.”

“Of course she was making sense,” said Ezra. “Your sister often does, and you should listen to

her more.”

Christopher gave him an amused look. “But where is the fun in that? It is so much more

amusing to wind her up and pretend that she is spouting rubbish, than to agree that she is

sensible.”

Ezra shook his head.

“Bertie agrees with me, do you not? A bit of playful banter and antagonism makes life all that

more interesting.”

Bertie blinked, astounded at how quickly the image of Sophia glaring at him, fire flashing in her

eyes had come to him. “I am not sure I do, you know,” he said forcing a laugh.

“Yes you do. I bet you and Stuart have plenty of arguments,” said Christopher before changing

the subject again. “I had better got and fetch my easel and paint box down. It really would not

do to forget the art equipment for an art excursion. Well, mainly art excursion.”

As Christopher trotted back up the stairs, Bertie turned to Ezra. “With Peter and Andrew going

back home, and Christopher away, it looks like it will be just the two of us here tomorrow night,”

he smiled as he spoke.

“Oh, sorry but I will not be here either,” replied Ezra.

Bertie‟s face fell and he tried not to let the panic he felt at those words, show in his eyes. “Oh?”

“Yes, I have to travel to Regalton to speak to the architect and mason about Dargent House II. I

know you and your father are planning on having some building work done yourselves, and all I

can recommend is that you supervise the work thoroughly. There has been some confusion with

the carriage house and where it is to be sited, and I intend to resolve it. Once I have done that, I

need to pay a call to my parents in Simdon. I will more than likely spend the night at their house

and catch an early train back to Simbridge on Thursday.”

Bertie nodded. “I certainly hope that you give the architect and builder what for and get

everything resolved to your satisfaction.”

Ezra smiled. “Oh I will, do not doubt it.” Another crash came from upstairs, followed by a violent

exclamation.

Ezra sighed. “I think I will go and help my future brother-in-law, before he succeeds in

demolishing the wall to his bedchamber. Excuse me.”

Bertie gave a tight smile as Ezra started up the stairs, before making his way to the drawing

room. Once there, he sat on one of the loveseats, his face pensive. There was no getting away

from it, tomorrow night he would be in the house on his own.

He felt his palms grow slick as the memories of his childhood night terrors came back to him.

Running from room to room, the house and then his village devoid of all life. His breathing came

faster and shallower as the panic rose.

There was another crash from upstairs, and the noise brought him out of his panic. He wasn‟t

alone just yet, and he had time enough to think of a way to overcome or minimise his fear.

As his breathing slowed he started to think of things he could do the next night, rather than stay

in the house alone. There was always the pub or perhaps the Campus Lounge would have a

show he could attend. However, the more he thought about drinking without his best friends the

more depressing the thought became. He realised that he would more than likely see some of

the members of the football team or some students from his lectures in either place, but it

wouldn‟t be the same as drinking with Andrew or Peter.

Perhaps then, he should dine at a restaurant. He would still be surrounded by others, but

wouldn‟t miss his friends as much, since it was something they never did as a group.

Yet, did he really want to dine alone?

No, he would need someone to eat with him.

Maybe it was because he had seen her earlier that day, or maybe it was due to Christopher‟s

comment bringing her to mind again, but his thoughts immediately turned to Sophia.

Would she be willing to dine with him he wondered, when she had still been so standoffish to him

earlier. There was only one way to find out, he reasoned, and that was to ask her. The worst

that could happen would be that she would say no. He was surprised by the wave of sadness

which threatened to rise and he pushed it down hurriedly. Making up his mind to ask her there

and then, he went to the bottom of the stairs and shouted up that he was going out.

Ezra and Christopher watched him go from the window of Christopher‟s room. “He looked …

panicked when I said I would not be here tomorrow,” said Ezra thoughtfully.

“Oh that is just Bertie. He doesn't like being on his own. He never has,” replied Christopher.

“He is better than he was, but still I wonder what he is going to be like when Stuart…”

“When Stuart what?”

Christopher shook his head. “Never mind, it is of little consequence. I need to get this blasted

easel to stay shut. That is far more important.” He stomped back over to where he had dropped

it, all thoughts of his cousin gone.

In Princess Beatrice House, Lauren and Sophia were sitting in the drawing room. The French

doors and all the windows had been flung open to try to let in the breeze, but the atmosphere

was still stifling hot. The heat was certainly not helping Sophia‟s temper as she attempted to

trudge through the anthology of poetry their aunt had given to her before the start of the new

session. “Urgh, this really is turgid dross,” she said as she gave up and threw the book onto the

settee beside her.

Lauren looked up from her embroidery. “Is that the book Aunt Matilda gave to you when we saw

her last?”

“It is. And , may I just say, it is an excellent example of her lack of taste.”

“Surely it is not that bad.”

Sophia threw her a look. “It is worse. I swear that if any man wrote poetry such as this for me, I

would kindly inform him that his soul had all the romance of a compost heap and that I did not

wish to speak to him ever again.”

“That is rather harsh,” said Lauren mildly.

“It is the truth,” replied Sophia with a shrug. “I have no time for insincerity.”

“If you say so,” said Lauren going back to her sewing.

Sophia was about to say more, when there came a knock at the door, and one of the other girls

entered. “Sophia, there is a Mr Legacy here to see you.”

Sophia shot up from the settee. “Mr Legacy?”

“Yes. Shall I send him in?”

“I erm. Yes,” replied Sophia as she tried not to sound too flustered. She had found her thoughts

dwelling on him in an infuriating way since their earlier meeting, and the fact that she was to face

him again, so soon threatened to break her usually calm demeanour.

Lauren put her sewing down on the table beside her and stood up. This promised to be

interesting.

“Mr Legacy,” said Sophia as Bertie entered the room.

“Miss Sartor, Miss Lauren,” he replied nodding at each of them in turn. Lauren flashed him a

brilliant smile. “Mr Legacy.”

“I am glad to see that you are more suitably attired now,” said Sophia, unable to stop herself from

making such a comment as she noticed the warmth in her sister‟s voice.

Bertie looked down at his suit and laughed. “Yes, I thought it would be best to pay a visit to a

young lady fully dressed, rather than half naked. People might talk otherwise you know.”

“Indeed,” replied Sophia, pushing aside the image of him earlier. “Is there any particular reason

for this social call?” She knew she was sounding brusque, but if he wasn't so vexing, she would

be perfectly civil and friendly to him.

“Actually, there is. I was wondering if you would care to dine with me tomorrow night.”

Sophia looked slightly stunned at this, but recovered well. “Dine with you?”

“Yes.” Bertie‟s grin slipped slightly at her hesitation. “Please allow me to invite you as an

apology for my appalling lack of manners earlier today, when I failed to adequately cover myself

without your prompting.”

“Oh. Then I think it would be rude to refuse your apology Mr Legacy. I would very much like to

dine with you tomorrow evening,” said Sophia, her heart racing as she did so.

“Your sister, is of course, welcome to join us,” said Bertie, knowing that Lauren would have to be

there to act as chaperone.

“I would be delighted. It sounds like a capital idea,” said Lauren.

“Then it is settled.”

“I take it we will be dining in Simbridge,” said Sophia.

“Actually, no. Despite living here for two years, I have a lamentable lack of knowledge with

regards to the city‟s restaurants. My father, however has recommended a nice restaurant in

Simdon and I thought we could dine there.”

Sophia nodded. “That sounds delightful. We will, of course, be required to dress.”

“I believe that to be a good idea,” replied Bertie. “We will cause a sensation if we turn up, myself

clad in only my football shorts, while your sister and yourself are in nought but your corsets and

chemises.”

Sophia's mouth twitched into a smile and she was surprised to realise that that had been funny.

“I was referring to whether or not Lauren and myself should dress in evening gowns,” she said

trying not to let her amusement show.

“I realised that, and yes. Most establishments in Simdon expect their clientele to don evening

wear if they dine there at night.”

“Then we will dress accordingly,” replied Sophia.

“I am certain you will. I will be outside with a carriage at six tomorrow night.”

“We will look forward to it Mr Legacy, will we not?” said Lauren offering Bertie her hand. After a

momentary pause, Bertie took it before transferring his attention back to Sophia.

“Yes, we will,” she agreed. Bertie took her hand and held it for a little longer than he had held her

sister‟s before saying. “Until tomorrow, Miss Sartor, Miss Lauren.” With a smile, he turned and

left the room, feeling happier than he had thought possible when he had learnt he was going to

be the only one at home in the Legacy Society.

“Well, that was a nice surprise,” said Lauren as the door closed. She looked at her sister out of

the corner of her eye. “It should be a pleasant evening spent in his company, do you not

agree?”

“Scarcely. I have no idea why I just agreed to dine with him. Last time it was quite

disagreeable,” said Sophia automatically.

“Ah, but unlike last time, you are not trying to prove a point, and neither is he. Besides, you will

have me there to make conversation and generally make the evening agreeable,” Lauren smiled

at her sister who went and sat back down on the settee.

“Yes, I suppose I will.” She picked up the poetry anthology only to fling it down again as she

remembered the warmth of his hand as he had taken hers. Why was the hateful man making it

so difficult for her to despise him?

Lauren meanwhile had once more picked up her embroidery and was making plans. This was,

she decided, the perfect opportunity to help her stubborn sister face up to her feelings for the

charming Mr Legacy. She smiled. She was going to make sure that it was going to be an

interesting evening.

It was just before six when Bertie arrived at Princess Beatrice House to pick up the Sartor sisters

for their meal. He had spent as much time as possible at the library before conceding that he

needed to head home to get changed. Once at the Legacy Society, he had taken his time

making his ablutions and shaving before dressing carefully. It was only as he was adjusting his

cuffs that he became aware of the silence in the house pressing against him. Feeling his panic

start to rise again, he had taken one last look in the hall mirror before dashing out of the house to

hail a cab earlier than he had planned.

Since he was early, he wasn‟t surprised when the same young lady as the day before opened the

door and informed him that the Sartor sisters weren‟t ready yet. “If you would care to wait in the

hall, I will inform them that you are here,” she said with a smile.

Bertie smiled at her and watched as she headed up the stairs, before surreptitiously looking at his

reflection in the window and adjusting his tie. He was sure that it was not laying straight, no

matter what he did.

Upstairs in her room, Sophia was smoothing her hair, and making sure that there were no loose

strands, while her sister looked on. Although the sisters helped one another to get dressed,

Lauren had managed to finish getting ready first, and had spent he past five minutes watching

Sophia try on different earrings and necklaces in the pretence that she could not make up her

mind which looked better. Both knew that she would decide to wear the cameo set which had

been their mother‟s, but while Lauren suspected she was fidgeting because she was dining with

Mr Legacy, Sophia was convinced the queasy feeling in her stomach and inability to sit still was

due to the fact she really didn‟t want to spend the night in that vexing man‟s company and knew it

was too late to send word that she could not join him after all.

At the knock at the door, she jumped before calling “come in.”

Felicity opened the door and smiled at the two young women. “Mr Legacy is here.”

“Thank you Felicity,” said Sophia, keenly aware that her heart had just quadrupled its beat.

“Please tell Mr Legacy we will be down shortly,” said Lauren as she stood up and smoothed her

skirt, but Miss Porter made no move to exit the room.

“Was there anything else Felicity?” asked Sophia, turning around.

“No. Only that the two of you are very lucky,” replied Felicity with a smile.

“Oh? Really? Why is that?” Sophia frowned as she spoke to the younger girl.

“Mr Legacy is looking particularly handsome tonight and …” her voice trailed off as she saw the

stony look on Sophia‟s face.

“I will go and tell him that you will be with him shortly,” she said instead before bobbing and

leaving the room.

Sophia took a short minute to gather her thoughts before taking one last look at herself in the

mirror. “I do hope that we are not overdressed,” she said as she pulled on one of her gloves. “I

should hate to be embarrassed by that spiteful man yet again.”

Lauren looked up from where she was rummaging in her reticule. “I doubt we will be. Felicity

said that Mr Legacy is looking more handsome than usual, so I am assuming that he is wearing a

tail suit.”

Sophia looked at her in amazement. “And why would you assume that?”

“Because nothing makes a man look more pleasing to the eye than tails and a bow tie. I am

surprised you do not agree.”

An image of Bertie as he had appeared the previous day, clad only in his long football shorts, his

hair messy and damp at the roots rose up in Sophia‟s mind, and she quickly suppressed it. “I

have not given it as much thought as you clearly have,” she replied instead.

“Perhaps you should,” said Lauren as she pulled the drawstring of her reticule tight. “It could

open up all sorts of possibilities for you.”

“And be labelled a flirt like you?” asked Sophia as Lauren walked over to the door knob.

“There are worse things to be called,” said Lauren. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I will ever be I suppose,” replied Sophia as she wondered why her heart had not yet

returned to its normal beat.

Bertie looked up as he heard their tread on the stairs. What he saw fair took his breath away and

he couldn‟t help but say “you look beautiful.” Lauren glanced at the direction of his gaze. As she

had hoped, he was looking at Sophia and taking no notice of her. It was time to put the plan she

had formulated over the past day into action. “Thank you Mr Legacy,” she said sweeping down

the stairs. “May I say that you are also looking particularly fine this evening. Tails suit you

immensely.” She was gratified to see how startled he looked as she spoke. Oh yes. He hadn‟t

been paying her any attention at all.

Still on the stairs, a wave of disappointment crashed over Sophia, followed immediately by

annoyance as she realised she was disappointed that the compliment had not been aimed at her.

She told herself that she cared not one jot about Mr Legacy‟s opinion on her looks so she had no

right to feel so downcast if he praised her sister‟s beauty and not hers. Her annoyance grew as

she realised that there was a tiny, traitorous part of her which refused to believe that.

Down in the hall, Bertie was trying to recover his composure. “I meant of course, that you both

look beautiful tonight,” he smiled at Sophia who was still making her way down the stairs. He had

hoped his remark would be greeted with a smile, but instead he got a glare which succeeded in

making his stomach flip.

Lauren had been watching both her companions with interest and was pleased with what she

saw. She was confident that by the end of the evening, she could have them both on the verge

of confessing their feelings for one another. With a brilliant smile, she slipped her arm through

Bertie‟s. “I believe that we are both ready. Perhaps we should be going.”

Bertie tried not to let his surprise at her touch show, and instead turned to Sophia, still only part

way down the stairs. “Are you ready Miss Sartor?”

Sophia gave a terse nod as she tried to ignore her sister‟s arm through his. She, of course, had

no real desire to be on his arm, but as the older sister, (if only by an hour), good manners

dictated that it should be her walking beside Mr Legacy, not Lauren. It was a thought which

occupied her all the way to the waiting carriage.

Bertie sipped his sauterne and tried to look interested in what Lauren was saying. It was a task

which had grown increasingly difficult as the night wore on. She had been talking nonstop since

the moment they had entered the cab and by the time they had reached Simbridge railway

station, Bertie had been very glad of the fact that they were completing the majority of the journey

by the much faster train than by carriage. Thus far, the only time Lauren had paused in her inane

chatter was to eat, and even then she took only the most delicate and dainty of mouthfuls before

declaring that she was quite full and starting a new topic of conversation.

He looked over at Sophia, who was currently pushing the remains of her dessert listlessly around

her plate. In direct contrast to her twin‟s ceaseless prattle, Sophia had become increasingly

sullen and withdrawn as the night had gone on. Bertie realised that he longed for an outburst

from her, whether it was to criticise his taste in restaurants or to inform him that his tie was

crooked, anything but her sitting there in silence. He was starting to worry that she was ill, or that

she despised his company so much that she wished she was anywhere but where she was. He

realised with a pang, that it was the second option which would cause him most grief.

He became aware of a lull in the stream of words issuing from Lauren‟s mouth. He looked back

at her to see her looking at him expectantly. Drat, she wanted a response from him. He put his

glass down on the table, but left his hand resting there. “I had not given it much thought,” he said

hoping that his answer was vague enough to make sense as a response to anything she had just

said.

Lauren smiled. Good, he hadn‟t been paying any attention to her at all, and was instead

focussing on her twin. Now she just needed to snap Sophia out of the glum reverie she had sunk

into, and make her face the truth she had been fighting since she had first met Mr Legacy.

“Oh, but you must have,” she said with a smile. “I am very surprised you have not.” She reached

across the table and rested her hand on his, her smile growing wider as she saw the shock in his

eyes at her touch.

Before Bertie could say or do anything, there was a crash of crockery and the harsh scraping

sound of a chair being pushed back quickly.

They both turned to see Sophia standing, her countenance pale and the strangest look on her

face. Bertie quickly withdrew his hand from Lauren‟s and started to stand himself. “My dear Miss

Sartor, are you quite well?”

“I...I…I suddenly feel rather weak. Excuse me.” She hurriedly left the room, leaving a concerned

Bertie looking after her.

“Do you not think you should follow to make sure she is well?” he asked turning back to Lauren.

Lauren shook her head and picked up her wine glass. “She will be quite well Mr Legacy.”

“Miss Lauren, you sister has just said that she is feeling ill I really do think that you should aid her

if she requires it,” insisted Bertie.

Lauren leant back in her chair. “Mr Legacy, please trust me when I say, that my sister does not

wish to see me at this moment, and that she will be perfectly fine,” she said truthfully.

In the lavatory, Sophia was hunched over the basin as she tried to catch her breath. She looked

up into the mirror and stared at her reflection in shock. She had long rolled her eyes at her

sister‟s behaviour around their male acquaintances, but never before had she been seized with

the desire to slap her twin. To shout and scream at her to leave Mr Legacy alone, she wanted

him. The revelation had hit her like a ton of bricks. Every traitorous thought she had ever

pretended not to have about Mr Legacy had descended in the split second she had seen Lauren

reach out to take Bertie‟s hand.

She loved him.

It was obvious to her now.

And she had no idea what to do about it.

While Sophia was trying to reconcile herself to the revelations she had just had about her feelings

for Bertie, the man in question and her twin were sitting in the restaurant in silence. Sophia had

been gone for so long, Lauren was starting to wonder if she had misjudged the situation after all,

while Bertie was fighting the desire to find Sophia and make sure that she was alright.

They both looked up in relief as Sophia came back to the table.

“Miss Sartor, are you feeling better?” asked Bertie as he stood to help her sit.

Sophia shot a quick smile at him. “I am thank you, perhaps still a little weak,” she lied, studiously

avoiding looking at her sister.

“I will pay and then we can go back to Simbridge if you are not feeling one hundred percent,” he

said after taking his own seat.

“Thank you,” she said with obvious relief. Her mind in turmoil, all Sophia wanted to do at that

moment, was return home.

“There is no need to thank me at all Miss Sartor,” replied Bertie signalling the waiter.

The journey back to Princess Beatrice House occurred in near silence. Sophia was too caught

up in her own thoughts to notice that Lauren was no longer talking incessantly or that Bertie was

alternating between shooting her concerned looks and staring into space himself, his expression

pensive. When they arrived back at their rooms, she hardly spared Bertie a glance as she

ignored the hand he offered to help her alight from the carriage. It was Lauren who thanked him

for a very enjoyable evening, and Lauren who noticed how he watched Sophia head inside.

“Mr Legacy, perhaps you would care to call on Sophia tomorrow? I am certain that she too

would like to thank you for this evening, once she is feeling better, of course,” she said turning

once more to him.

Bertie gave a start. “Of course. But in the meantime, would you be so kind as to pass on my

regards to her.”

“But of course.” Lauren inclined her head and smiled. “Goodnight Mr Legacy.”

“Goodnight Miss Lauren.”

Lauren entered the house to find her sister standing, looking blank. On hearing the door close

behind Lauren, the house mistress entered from the music room. “I hope you had a pleasant

evening girls,” she asked.

“We did, thank you Mrs Mead,” replied Lauren.

“Good. Since you are home safe and sound, I am going to retire to bed. Goodnight. Do not

tarry too long before seeking your own beds.”

“Goodnight Mrs Mead,” replied Lauren.

Once the house mistress had left, she turned to her sister and asked. “That was a pleasant

evening, was it not?”

Sophia looked startled at the sound of her voice. “You certainly appeared to be enjoying Mr

Legacy‟s company,” she frowned at her sister.

“Yes, he is a very pleasant man if you give him half a chance. Are you feeling any better?”

Sophia‟s frown deepened, as she realised that she wanted to get far, far away from her twin

before she slapped her. “Actually, I am feeling in need of some fresh air. If you will excuse me, I

am going to take a short stroll.” She put her hand on the door handle

“At night? Come now Sophia, surely a turn around the gardens would be just as beneficial,”

started Lauren.

“No I feel I need a longer walk than that. I will not be long.” She tugged the heavy front door

open, before bolting through it.

Lauren watched her sister leave, conflicted. She hoped that Sophia was heading after Mr Legacy

(that was, after all, the sort of thing she would do), but at the same time, she was desperately

worried about the idea of her walking the streets of the city at night. Anyone might be abroad

and anything might happen. Oh the other hand, she had seen the look on her sister‟s face when

she had looked at her. Going after her and insisting on accompanying her, or even letting

anyone else in the house know, would result in Sophia losing her temper with her, and Lauren

wasn‟t sure if, given her current frame of mind, Sophia would ever forgive her.

Instead, she quietly closed the door, and made her way upstairs to her own room. The windows

overlooked the direction Sophia had walked off in, and she would keep a look out for her

returning there.

Meanwhile, not that far away, Bertie was walking slowly home. He had dismissed the cabdriver

after only a couple of hundred yards, deciding that he would rather complete the rest of the

journey on foot. He thought he had had an enjoyable evening. The food at the restaurant had

been as good as his father had promised, and he certainly liked the company he had been in.

True, the conversation had been no where near as scintillating as he had hoped it would, but that

was, he felt, mainly due to the fact that Lauren had taken charge of that early on and not

relinquished her role all evening. If Sophia had have joined in, he was certain that the topics

would have been more interesting. Not that he disliked Lauren, but she was not as passionate

Sophia.

Sophia.

Sophia‟s behaviour all evening had worried him, and the fact that she spent the last part of the

evening looking so ill, had concerned him more than he could articulate. He didn‟t like to see her

so listless and unemotional. Every other meeting he had had with her, she had been passionate,

and he liked her passion. He liked it a lot. He loved to see her dark eyes flash before she

launched into some tirade, normally aimed at him.

He loved the way she didn‟t back down until she was made to, and then still held onto her belief

even though she had been proven wrong.

He loved her.

He stopped walking at that thought. He loved her. Of course he did. He had done for a long

while, but hadn‟t admitted it to himself.

He had reached the river by now, and slowly made his way to one of the benches where he sat

looking out towards the water.

He loved her. And she always acted as if he was the last person in the world she wanted to see.

What on earth was he going to do?

Little did he know, he was the sole topic of Sophia‟s thoughts at that very moment. She was

replaying over and over every time she had been mean or uncomplimentary to him. How was

she ever going to be able to face him and apologise to him? Why would he even listen to her?

She had to go and see him. Tomorrow. She would go tomorrow.

At least she would try to go tomorrow.

It had been difficult enough being in his company for the journey home, and she hadn‟t looked at

him once. How was she ever going to look him in the eye and tell him she was sorry she had

said she thought him insufferable, but she loved him?

She had no idea.

She continued walking towards the river, her feet guiding her with no conscious input from her

brain.

Bertie was still looking out over the river, trying to figure out what he should do next about

Sophia, when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned and shot out of his seat once he saw

who was there.

“Miss Sartor?” he asked astonished.

Sophia started. There, in front of her as if her thoughts had been made real, was Bertie. The

light of the moon was enough to, throw his face into sharp relief and showed her that his bowtie

and collar were now undone. She was seized with the desire to run her fingers underneath his

collar and up into his hair.

“Miss Sartor,” he repeated concerned by the fact she appeared to be swaying. “Are you well?

What cause do you have for wandering the streets unaccompanied at this time of night?”

If he was expecting a biting reply in response, he was disappointed. “I needed some air,” she

said weakly.

“So you walked across the town by yourself?”

“Yes.”

She swayed once more as she spoke, and instantly, Bertie was by her side. “Come and sit

down,” he said as he took her hands. She acquiesced meekly, and then sat in silence for a short

while, very aware of the fact that Bertie was sitting next to her.

“I feel I owe you an apology for my behaviour this evening,” she said at last. “I was rude and

stand offish.”

“You do not need to apologise. I had been concerned about your quietness all evening, even

before your turn.”

Sophia arched an eyebrow at him, some of her strength coming back as her surprise faded.

“Really? You had noticed my reticence? I had thought that you were so caught up in my sister‟s

company and conversation, that you scarcely noticed I was present all evening.” She couldn‟t

keep the bite out of her voice as she spoke and it momentarily took Bertie aback.

“Of course I noticed,” he replied. “Miss Sartor, your sister is a very lovely lady, if loquacious, but

it was not she whom I asked to dine with me tonight. It was you, and it was your conversation I

missed.”

“But, why?” she blurted, as her earlier thoughts came back to her. “I have been beastly to you on

our every meeting.”

“Yes, you have,” he agreed. “You are the most infuriating person I have ever met and yet I have

never wanted to get to know anyone more. The way you constantly argue with me drives me to

distraction, and yet I. I cannot stop thinking about you. Every waking moment, the thought of

you is at the back of my mind. I see your face when I close my eyes at night, and hope that I will

see you to speak to when I wake up in the morning.” He stopped speaking suddenly as he

realised what he was on the verge of saying. Sophia, on her part, didn‟t notice his sudden

silence. She was thinking about what he had said, about how his words could so very easily be

her own. She did however notice when he, mistaking her silence for disapproval, stood up

suddenly and walked away.

“I apologise,” he said looking out at the river. “I should never have spoken so freely. I do not

know what came over me. It must be the wine and your influence. You drive me insane.”

He expected her to be offended, to bluster and shout at him, and call him every name under the

sun. What he did not expect, was to feel the warmth of her hand through her glove as she crept

beside him and took his own. He turned to face her

Sophia pulled away suddenly as the realisation of what she was doing hit her. “You cad!” she

exclaimed, causing Bertie‟s eyebrows to sky rocket. “You despicable man, you are taking

advantage of me!”

Bertie watching in consternation as she started pacing. His brain was struggling to comprehend

the fact that he had gone from thinking he had embarrassed himself completely and lost the

woman he was now sure he was in love with, to being kissed passionately by her, to being

chastised by her, all within a few minutes

“I took advantage of you? Sophia, you kissed me.”

Sophia‟s pacing faltered as she remembered tracing her fingers along his collar, and up into his

hair. “Well, you kissed me back. A gentleman should have extracted himself from the situation

as delicately as possible.” She resumed her pacing.

“I have never claimed to be a gentleman,” said Bertie as he watched.

“Something which you have proved time and time again when you have met me! You really are

the most despicable, irritating, vexing man I have ever had the misfortune to meet!”

Sophia turned to continue pacing, and nearly bumped into Bertie who had come up behind her.

“What?”

They were both panting when they parted. “Now you can say that I have taken advantage of

you,” said Bertie.

“You hateful man!” she exclaimed but Bertie couldn‟t help but notice that this time she didn‟t

make any move to pull away.

“Vexing woman,” he shot back at her

“Exasperating man!”

“Maddening woman!”

Lauren was getting very worried. Sophia had been gone well over an hour, and apart from

breaks to brush out her hair, and change into her night things, Lauren had been keeping a

constant eye out of her windows for her. So far, there was no sign of her, and all sorts of

gruesome scenarios were starting to run through Lauren's mind.

She should never have let her go out alone. She should have insisted on accompanying her, no

matter how much Sophia didn't want her company. An image of Sophia laying beaten and

bloodied in a ditch rose in her mind and she gasped. She was going to have to wake the house

mistress and tell her what had happened. That was not going to be fun. The local constabulary

would have to be called, and a full scale search organised. She would never forgive herself for

leading Sophia into harm.

She was so caught up with her alarmist thoughts that she didn't take any notice of the two figures

walking arm in arm along Princess Street at first. It was only when they passed directly under a

nearby streetlamp that a flash of light reflecting off the trim of the lady's dress caught her eye,

and drew her gaze. She let out a sigh of relief. The lady was Sophia, and she looked to be on

the arm of Mr Legacy. She smiled, and her grin grew wider as she took in the intimate tilt of their

heads as they walked slowly along. She had found him. Or he had found her. One or t'other. It

didn't matter which since they appeared to be getting along very well.

She switched windows and watched them until they were out of sight by the front door, before

slipping out of her room and into Sophia's.

It was quite some minutes before she heard the unmistakable sound of someone trying to close

the heavy front door quietly, followed not long after by the tread of someone on the stair. Sophia

entered her room, humming under her breath. She started when she saw Lauren sitting on her

bed.

"Lauren, what are you doing here?"

"I was concerned about the way you decided to go wandering the streets alone at night dear

sister, and wanted to be sure you returned home safely," replied Lauren.

"As you can see, I have. I ... met Mr Legacy by the river, and he was kind enough to accompany

me on the rest of my walk and home."

"I would expect nothing less of him." Lauren was watching Sophia closely as she put her reticle

down and stripped off her gloves. It was obvious that she was bursting to tell her something, but

at the same time, was having a fight with herself. "Would you care for some assistance with your

gown?" she asked, as a way of giving Sophia some more time.

"Please. Who did you get to assist you?" asked Sophia as she turned round.

"Miss Fitzhugh was awake and obliging enough to help," replied Lauren.

Sophia was silent as Lauren unhooked her bodice. Eventually she blurted out "I love him

Lauren.“

Lauren didn't say a word as she finished and stepped back. Sophia, thinking about how Lauren

had monopolised Bertie's attention all evening, mistook the cause of her reticence as she

removed the bodice. "I know you were quite taken with him this evening..."

"No!"

Sophia turned to look at her sister and realised that she was grinning. "Soph, no. Mr Legacy

seems to be a very nice, personable man, but I have no deeper feelings towards him than those

of an acquaintance."

"Acquaintance?" Sophia gaped at her sister. "But you were flirting with him..."

"Yes, yes I was. Sophia it has been obvious to everyone but yourself that you have been in love

with Mr Legacy since the concert."

"I have not!"

"You have. You are also as stubborn as a mule, and I had to do something to nudge you along,

make you admit to yourself what you were feeling."

"You flirted with him to make me jealous?" Sohia was indignant.

"It worked, did it not?"

Sophia was speechless. Yes it had worked, but she did not like the thought she had been

manipulated by her sister. She seized a nearby pillow and threw it at Lauren. "I cannot believe

you did that," she said as she bashed Lauren over the head with another one.

Laughing, Lauren picked up the pillow by her feet and hit Sophia with it in retaliation. "I had to!

You left me no choice!"

"I do not accept that!"

"It worked! Enjoy that fact!"

"I am enjoying hitting you more!"

Both girls collapsed to the floor, laughing.

“I do apologise for causing you distress Sophia,” said Lauren. “But I believed that the end

justified the means.”

Sophia took her hand. “Apology accepted, and thank you. My feelings for Bertie are now clear to

me, and I have never been happier.”

With their feelings acknowledged, Bertie and Sophia started spending lots of time together. She

even deigned to watch the football team practice on numerous occasions, but in the end, both

she and Bertie agreed it was probably best if she and (especially) Lauren didn't make a habit of

that There was something about their presence which the other team members found very

distracting.

Peter, Andrew and Celestia all returned to Simbridge following their grandmother's funeral. They

were, as expected, quieter than usual, but the two boys found themselves glad to be back living

in the hustle and bustle of the Legacy Society. As for Celestia, she started to tire of the constant

round of condolences and sympathies soon after arriving back, even if those offering them were

her friends. She took solace in throwing herself into her dancing, often staying at the dance hall

late into the night..

Ezra had sorted out the problems with the location of the carriage house and was now

concentrating on his lectures for the final part of his masters degree. He was hoping to be called

to the bar after his wedding so that he could follow in the footsteps of his grandfather Thomas

and become a well respected barrister, and was taking his studies very seriously.

Of course, that didn‟t mean that he was also neglecting his fiancée. He made sure that he spent

as much time with Bethany as was possible.

Bethany was always glad to see Ezra, but as the months wore on and she realised that her

wedding was now less than a year away, she craved his company and reassuring presence even

more. She was making frequent visits to Simdon to see her mother and future mother-in-law in

order to organise the invitations, venue and wedding breakfast. Such visits were often trying as

she acted as mediator, trying to reconcile the older women‟s ideas with her own.

Then there was the decorating and furnishing of her future home to think about. While Bethany

had very definite ideas on that matter, she was very aware that she would not be living there

alone and she and Ezra would spend many an hour discussing the fundamentals of their new

home. She was especially gratified when, despite his dislike of them, she managed to get Ezra

to agree to having two of their rooms and one corridor lit by gas lighting. She was always very

reticent on how she managed to win the concession.

As for Christopher, he was enjoying doing what he did best: painting, sketching, drawing and

carousing. He also spent part of his time, studiously avoiding replying to the parts of his mother‟s

letters where she asked if he was stepping out with any young lady yet. The truth was that he

had shown interest in a number of ladies at the Acadamie or living in the town, but his interest

had not been reciprocated, and he was determined not to worry on it. He was, after all still young

to be thinking of marriage.

Back in Regalton, all was well, at least on the surface. Anne was putting on a brave face over

the death of another sibling, even if in the weeks which followed Enid‟s death she had brought up

the subject of her and Mathias‟s condition to her children more than usual.

Theo‟s grief at losing his mother had been palpable, but with the help of his devoted wife, and his

good friends, he had started to get through it.

While Eddie had found that his main preoccupation these days had become his ideas for

redesigning the house. He wanted to stay true to his father, grandfather and great grandfather‟s

visions for the family home, while at the same time taking into consideration how both he and his

son wanted to enhance it.

With Bertie busy at university, and only able to make the journey down to Regalton occasionally,

their main method of sharing their ideas had become by letter and he was perusing Bertie‟s latest

epistle when Carmen entered the study.

“Hello my love,” he said with a smile as he turned to see who had entered.

“My Dearest Eddie.” Carmen walked over and stooped to kiss him. “Was there anything of

interest in your correspondence this morning?”

“Only the letter from Bertie. The rest was mundane,” he answered, slipping his arm around her

waist.

“I trust he is well.”

“He seems in fine spirits,” replied Eddie. “He seems to have been giving the upstairs of the

house a lot of thought.”

“That is good. Does he mention the nice Miss Sartor this time?” asked Carmen.

Eddie hesitated as he scanned the letter. “He does.” He paused. “Do you think he might be

sweet on her?”

“I believe he may,” she replied with a fond smile.

“But the tension between the two of them was palpable when Miss Sartor dined with us after the

concert last year,” said Eddie.

“Yes.”

Eddie shook his head. “I am sure I do not understand.”

Carmen gave a small smile. “I am sure you do not.”

“At any rate, if Bertie is enamoured with a girl, it explains why he is suddenly concerned about

dressing rooms I suppose,” said Eddie.

“I am sorry,” he said putting the letter down again, “but I am neglecting to ask if there was

anything you wanted to speak to me about my darling.”

Carmen smiled her serene smile. “You know me so well dearest Eddie. I do wish to speak with

you.”

Eddie gave her his full attention. “What about?”

She hesitated. “Emmi.”

Eddie‟s brow furrowed. “What about Emmi?”

Carmen sighed and sat down on the settee. Taking his cue, Eddie left his desk and sat down

beside her.

“Dearest Eddie, you must have noticed how Emmi is reluctant to speak to anyone outside of the

family, how she finds it difficult to relate to others at times.”

“She is shy, I will not deny it.”

“I worry that it goes beyond shyness. That if a conversation is not about music, if someone is not

exact in their emotions, then Emmi loses all interest and will not participate in the discussion.”

“Emmi is not uncaring or thoughtless,” pointed out Eddie.

“I agree, she is not, but I do wonder if she quite understands what others think or feel.” She

paused as she let her words sink in. “I fear I am not the only one to have noticed this.”

Eddie glanced at her sharply.

“I spoke to Miss Richardson this morning, when she arrived to take Emmi‟s lessons. She was

very forthcoming about Emmi‟s musical progress, but when I asked about her other subjects, she

was reluctant to elaborate. I had to get quite firm with her.”

Eddie fought to hide a smile at the thought of his mild mannered wife being firm with anyone, and

looked askance at her.

“She said that, despite her best efforts, engaging Emmi in conversation, or trying to teach her the

basics of History was trying. All Emmi wants to do is learn about music, or play the piano.” She

paused as she weighed up what she was about to say. “I believe that she finds it rather

frustrating at times, teaching our daughter.”

A frown creased Eddie‟s brow at that, and he was silent as he thought about what his wife had

said. “Our Emmi is indeed special my love,” he said at last. “Perhaps we need to be more

understanding of her, and assist her in comprehending the world.”

Carmen nodded. “I agree. That is why I needed to confide in you.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon discussing their daughter and how they could help her.

One of the ways in which they decided to try to encourage Emmi to interact more with others,

was to increase the number of times they visited Alexandra and her family. Whenever they

visited, David was always willing to take his younger siblings and cousins to the nearby park

where they would meet with other cousins and friends. One such occasion found the Smith and

Legacy children enjoying one of the last nice days of late summer with Harry and Gregory

Roseland. Harry and Greg were the twin sons of Louisa and her husband Cyd, and therefore

Andrew and Peter‟s cousins. However they were closer in age to Zane and Mickey and it was

those two whom they got on better with, although Harry did also admit to having a soft spot for

Emmi.

Gregory was laying back, watching the clouds when he sat up and asked Mickey “how are you

enjoying being a teenager? You were bouncing off the walls at the prospect last we saw you.”

Mickey pulled a face. “It is perplexing. Mama treats Zane and I both as being more responsible

and as children still, often at the same time!”

The older teenagers exchanged amused glances at his indignation.

“Take the dinner party Mama and Papa held last week,” he continued. “Zane and I were

expected to help with the preparations by fetching the provisions in from the delivery cart.”

“Something I did not mind doing at all,” put in Zane.

“Well no. I did not mind either,” said Mickey.

“And when you dropped that dozen eggs, I know that Mama and Cook did wonder if asking you

to help had been a wise decision,” said David with a smile.

“That was not my fault. Next door‟s cat ran between my legs as I was walking to the door,”

pointed out Mickey. “But besides, my point is that Mama wanted our help during the day to

prepare for it, but we were not allowed to attend. Instead we had to stay upstairs in the old

nursery like infants, while you and Sarah Jane were allowed to mingle with the guests!” his voice

rose in indignation at the memory.

“You really did not miss much,” said David soothingly. “In fact, I would rather have stayed with

the two of you upstairs than been among the guests. They were all colleagues of Papa‟s and

their wives. The only topic of conversation the men had all evening was politics. It was most

boring and I am certain the only reason Mama and Papa wanted me there, was in order to help

me make connections of my own.”

“That is your opinion David. I had a thoroughly enjoyable evening,” said Sarah Jane. “I had

several scintillating conversations with cabinet ministers or their wives.”

“Yes, I noticed that you enjoyed a riveting conversation with Sir Horace Penryn-Jones after

dinner.”

“What are you implying?” asked Sarah Jane suspiciously.

“Nothing, I was merely admiring your ability to look interested while conversing with the Foreign

Secretary. It is a skill I have yet to master.”

“That is because I was interested David. Really I do not see why I am sitting here, listening to

this. I am going home in order to do something more useful and productive.” Sarah Jane stood

up and shook out her skirts before storming off in the direction of the Smiths‟ townhouse.

“Do not worry about it David,” said Mickey as his older brother watched her go in disbelief. “You

know as well as I that Sarah Jane has been more prickly and out of sorts since Aunt Vicky moved

in with us and she had to give her her room.”

Gregory looked over, interested. “Aunt Vicky is living with you?”

Mickey nodded. “Oh yes. She has been for nearly three weeks now, even since Uncle Patrick

moved to Birsimgham.”

“I like Aunt Vicky,” said Zane. “I like her living with us.”

“You like everyone.”

“Not everyone. There are one or two of the boys at school I do not like. Well one, and I‟m sure it

is all a misunderstanding on my part,” Zane trailed off into silence as he thought about it.

“How long will she be with you?” asked Harry.

Mickey shrugged. “I do not know. David might though.”

All eyes turned to the oldest in the group. “We are not sure,” he said at last. “Papa is helping her

to look for a property. When they find a suitable one, he will sign the papers on it so that she can

purchase it and move out. No one knows how long that will take.”

“If it takes many months, then you have my sympathies for having to live with a ratty Sarah Jane,”

said Harry, eliciting laughter from her brothers, including Zane who had received more than one

tongue lashing from her recently.

“Ah but I am lucky. I will not have to put up with her forever,” said David. “A few months more

and I will be away to Simbridge and university.

“You have been accepted then?” asked Stuart.

“Yes, I received the letter last week.” He paused. “Have you also heard from the college?”

Stuart nodded. “Oh yes. I have also been accepted.”

“You do not sound particularly happy about the fact.”

“I am,” replied Stuart unconvincingly. “But I have also been accepted at another university,

reading a subject which I believe could aid me more in the future.”

“Ah. Is this other university far?”

“Very,” replied Stuart grimly.

“Have you told Bertie?”

Stuart was silent, which David took as a no. “And you have not decided yet?”

“No. Our family has a tradition of attending New Simbridge, and a degree in Maths and Physics

from there will stand me in good stead for the future. But so would a degree in Engineering from

Sierra Plains University. I have yet to decide which one I would rather have,” said Stuart.

“When do you have to decide?” asked Zane.

“I have a few weeks yet,” said Stuart, forcing a smile onto his face. He noticed a cab pull up at a

house opposite the park and the occupants alight. Suddenly his smile was genuine.

“If you will excuse me, Miss Elle Fitzhugh and her mother have arrived home. I am going to go

and pay them my respects.”

He got up and trotted away, while the others watched him.

“That is someone he will miss if he decides to attend Sierra Plains University,” said David with a

nod.

“He has weeks to decide yet,” pointed out Harry.

“Yes,” replied David thoughtfully.

The weeks soon passed, and Stuart still hadn‟t made his decision. He sat in his bedroom, both

letters of acceptance before him on his bed. He had come to the conclusion that there was no

advantage from one over the other with regards to the degree he would come out with, it all

depended on where he wanted to go. Did he want to stay in Simland and attend university in a

neighbouring county, or did he want to leave all he knew, good and bad, and seek his education

in a new country? He would certainly miss a great many things about home if he did that, not to

mention his friends and family, but the chance to experience a different culture and life, appealed

to his sense of adventure. Besides it was not as if he would never see them again. He wouldn‟t

stay forever, and steamer tickets could be purchased at fairly reasonable prices.

He heard the sound of a carriage rattling to a halt outside and went to the window to see the

main cause of his hesitation was alighting from the cab, his brother Bertie.

It was true that the two of them had adapted to Bertie being away well, and Stuart was incredibly

proud of his brother and the confidence he had gained but Bertie had been visiting home more

and more lately as the plans for the house were finalised, and when he did, it was easy for the

both of them to fall back into how things used to be. He had no idea how Bertie would react if he

were to say that he was going to live overseas for three or four years.

He was placing one of the letters back into its envelope when the door to his room burst open

and Bertie bounded in. “What-ho Stuart.”

“Hello Bertie. How have you been faring?”

“Fine, fine. What have you there?” he asked noticing the letter in his brother‟s hand.

“Oh. A letter of acceptance from university.”

“Excellent.” Bertie sat down next to him. “I have been looking forward to you attending New

Simbridge. There is much to show you, and many people I want to introduce you to.” He

glanced down and noticed the seal on the letter.

“That is not the school crest of New Simbridge,” he said.

“No. It is that of Sierra Plains University. In Simerica,” replied Stuart quietly.

“What?!” Bertie looked at him aghast.

“I have been accepted at New Simbridge as well,” Stuart rushed to reassure him.

“Then why do you even still have that letter?”

“Because it represents a good opportunity for me. The chance to gain an excellent degree from

a good university and a unique cultural experience,” explained Stuart.

But Bertie wasn‟t listening. In a split second, caught in the grip of a childish fear, his shaky self-

confidence had shattered. He‟d forgotten all about his achievements with the football team, and

the friends who had helped him. He even forgot all about Sophia. He had convinced himself that

the only reason he had survived thus far at university, was because Stuart was a mere thirty

miles away. If Stuart was thousands of miles away instead, how would he cope?

The answer was simple. He wouldn‟t.

Looking at Bertie‟s face, Stuart saw his fears realised. It would really hurt Bertie if he were to

leave Simland. He wasn‟t sure he could put his brother through that pain. But what was it that

he really wanted? Which degree did he really want to read?

What mattered to him more? His brother‟s happiness or his own?

He made up his mind.

“Of course, New Simbridge is equally as god an opportunity for me,” he said. “With the

advantage of still being a reasonable distance from home and Simdon. Plus, I understand Miss

Ellie is planning on joining her sister at the Acadamie. It makes sense for me to accept that offer,

so I think I will.”

Bertie relaxed as his fears fled at his brother's words. “Ah. Miss Elle Fitzhugh. Of course.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It is obvious you are sweet on her.” Stuart blushed but didn‟t deny it, making Bertie smile.

“Actually I had better go back downstairs,” he said getting up. “Papa and I are going to discuss

windows. I only popped up to say hello.”

He left the room, leaving Stuart to wonder if he had imagined the hurt on Bertie‟s face and, more

importantly, if he had just made the right decision.

An hour later, in the study downstairs, Eddie screwed the cap back on his pen and laid it on the

sheaf of notes he and Bertie had made. “That is decided then. I will see the architect on Monday

and give him our decision.”

Bertie nodded. “I think that the old house will look very grand when we are finished.”

Eddie got up and made his way to the settee. “As do I, and yet it will hopefully still retain the feel

of the house your great-great-grandfather built.”

“Indeed. Building work will commence during my final year at Simbridge?”

“Yes, hopefully with only the three of us living here, we will not experience as much disruption as

we would if Stuart was here too. And this way, it should also all be complete by the time you

return from Simbridge. If the disruption does prove too much for you kasaan and sister your Aunt

Alexandra has offered to put us up.”

Bertie smiled. “That sounds very much like Aunt Alexandra, taking in waifs and strays, even if

her house is full to bursting.”

Eddie laughed. “Yes. Such a change from when she was younger.”

Bertie hesitating before asking “did you know Stuart was thinking of going to Simerica to study?”

Eddie froze. “Yes,” he said eventually. He looked over at his eldest son as he wondered how

much to say. Bertie‟s attachment to, and reliance on, his brother had been a cause of concern

for Eddie in the past, but Bertie was now a grown man. He had been living away from home for

some time now, and was not only about to complete his undergraduate degree, but was also

planning on taking a masters next year. He had surely progressed beyond needing his brother

by his side constantly.

“He was rather excited about it,” he said at last. “He was very impressed with the university‟s

reputation and the degree it offered.”

Bertie felt a hot squirm of guilt in his stomach. He hadn‟t realised that Stuart had been excited

about it. His only thoughts had been of himself. It was just like when he‟d insisted on going with

his parents on their trip when they had married. He felt so embarrassed by it now, but at the time

he had felt he had no control of his actions. So it had been earlier. He was just thinking that he

should apologise to Stuart, when he realised his father, deciding to change the subject was

speaking to him again.

“I am sorry Papa, I was miles away. What did you say?”

“I said that Stanley mentioned to me that he saw you and two blonde young ladies at a play the

other week. I was enquiring as to whether you and your companions enjoyed it.”

“They did, thank you. Actually, on the subject of Miss Sartor. I wished to ask you something,”

replied Bertie, all thoughts of Stuart fading away.

“Yes?”

“May I have your permission to ask her to be my wife?”

Eddie smiled. “Of course you may.”

“Thank you!” said Bertie fervently. “I am not quite sure what I would have done if you had said

no, since I love her and can imagine marrying no other.”

“I am very happy to hear that you have found someone to care so much about,” replied Eddie

truthfully.

They were interrupted then by a knock at the door, and in came Emmi. “Kasaan said to tell you

luncheon is ready,” she said.

“Thank you Emmi,” said Eddie with a fond smile.

“Is it that time already? No matter, I have missed Kasaan‟s sandwiches while away,” said Bertie

getting up.

“You may have to continue missing them. Recently your kasaan has started to try preparing

other things to eat. She mentioned trying a dish she remembers her own kasaan making today.”

“How intriguing,” said Bertie as he followed his sister out of the study. Between the revelation

that Carmen was branching out with her cooking and happiness that Eddie had given his

permission for Bertie to ask for Sophia‟s hand in marriage, all thought that he should apologise to

Stuart and tell him to accept whichever offer he most wanted, was lost.

Bertie wasn‟t the first, or even the second to ask his father for permission to become betrothed.

Both Peter and Andrew had made the journey home the week before, separately and without the

other‟s knowledge. Theo had just finished relating his conversation with Peter to his wife, and

Doc was just starting to wrap her head around the fact that one of her close friends was going to

be her daughter-in-law, when the doorbell went again. They exchanged puzzled glances while

they waited for the housemaid to answer the door.

“You do not suppose Peter has forgotten something do you?” asked Theo “Did he have an

umbrella with him?”

Doc shook her head. “I can‟t remember.”

The door to the drawing room opened then and their maid stepped inside. “Mr Andrew to see

you sir,” she said with a bob.

“Really, this is ridiculous,” said Andrew behind her. “I could have found my way to the drawing

room and said hello to my parents without your help.”

“You will have to excuse our son, Mildred,” said Theo getting up. “His mother and I have tried to

instil manners in him, but without success it seems.”

Mildred gave another nervous bob. “Will you require tea?” she asked timorously.

“Please.”

“Very good sir,” she made her escape and Andrew entered the room.

“You should be nicer to her,” said Doc getting up to hug him. “I know her introducing you is silly,

but she‟s new. This is her first position as a housemaid and she‟s trying to make a good

impression. Humour her.”

Andrew rolled his eyes and collapsed onto a settee. “But this is my home.”

“Yes, but you don‟t actually live here any more,” pointed out his mother.

“And you will not be moving home when you graduate either,” added Theo “I am gifting both you

and your sister houses as wedding presents.”

Andrew looked shocked at this, and managed to splutter his thanks before the rest of that

sentence sunk in. “My sister … have any suitors for Celly visited you? Because she has not

mentioned any to Peter or I and …”

“None I have considered serious,” said Theo. “And certainly none I have given my blessing to.

They have all been far too concerned with her exotic beauty for my tastes.”

“Good.” Andrew relaxed and at that moment, Mildred knocked with the tea. He waited until they

each had a cup of the comforting liquid before saying “actually, weddings are what I wanted to

speak to you about. More specifically my wedding.”

Doc paused, her cup partway to her lips as she waited for her son to go on. “Yes,” prompted

Theo, stirring his drink.

“I want to marry Miss Marina, and I wanted to ask your permission, before I asked her.”

Theo set his tea down. “Of course you have my permission,” he said with a smile. “Your mother

and I have known Miss Marina a long time. You will do well together.”

“Plus possible red-headed grandbabies,” added Doc with a smile.

“Grandbabies?” Andrew looked slightly green as he spoke, the thought of being a father suddenly

looming up in front of him.

“Grandbabies!” repeated Doc, a manic smile in her face.

“Thinking about grandbabies doesn‟t make you feel … old my love?” asked Theo, amused.

“Nope! Immortal simself. I plan on being around to meet my great-great-great grandbabies.”

Andrew groaned and buried his head in his hands.

“Really my dear, you should stop teasing our son so,” said Theo with a fond smile.

“He should be used to it by now,” replied Doc. “Andrew, in all seriousness, I am very happy that

you and your brother have both found the ones you want to spend the rest of your lives with.”

Andrew looked up at that. “My brother? Peter has asked permission too?”

Doc and her husband exchanged glances. “You didn‟t know?”

“No! And of course he got here first. Typical!”

“More tea?” asked Theo. His wife gratefully accepted as their son ranted.

Despite Andrew‟s disappointment at the fact his brother had announced his plans to marry first,

he was of course pleased for him, and it wasn‟t too long after that they both proposed to their

lady loves in typical fashion.

Andrew‟s was a pragmatic, almost distracted affair, whereas Peter‟s was as romantic an

occasion as he could make it. Neither Eleanor nor Marina minded though. They were just happy

to be betrothed to the brothers.

A few weeks after the Harrison boys proposed, Bertie and the Misses Sartor could be found in

the same restaurant in Simdon, they had dined at near the beginning of the school year. Sophia

had raised her brows at that, but said nothing since she was actually looking forward to sampling

the food and enjoying the ambiance without spending the entire evening jealous of or annoyed

with her sister.

The food was indeed delicious, and the conversation flowed freely, Bertie having got to know

Lauren well enough for her to drop the shallow façade she put on for the world. They had just

finished dessert, when Lauren caught Bertie‟s eye and excused herself from the table.

“I trust you are enjoying your evening more than you did the last time we were here?” asked

Bertie.

“I am, cannot you tell? I have glared at Lauren only twice this evening,” said Sophia smiling.

“And me only a dozen times,” added Bertie, glad of the levity to help steady his nerves.

“Indeed! That is an indication that I am having a wonderful time if ever there was one.”

“I admit that the memory of that night is the reason why I chose this restaurant tonight,” said

Bertie.

“The memory of me being a sullen mare is why you chose to dine here again?” asked Sophia,

eyebrows raised.

“Not quite. The memory I am talking about, is the one of what happened later at the river.” He

cleared his throat nervously. “Sophia, I am my father‟s heir. It falls to me to build on everything

my forebears have achieved, but I cannot do it alone. I do not want to do it alone. I want you,

the woman I love by my side in that and all things. So I am asking you if you will consent to be

my wife.” He slid the jewellery box containing his grandmother‟s engagement ring across the

table towards her.

“You are asking me to marry you?” asked Sophia faintly.

“Yes.”

“Have you been to see my father?” she asked suddenly. “He has not spoken to me about this.”

Bertie blinked, thrown slightly by her question. “No, I thought we could wait until we were wed.

Possibly until we were expecting our first child. Of course I have been to see him, and he gave

me his blessing.”

“How did you find him?” she asked suspiciously. “And I do not mean did you ask Lauren for our

family home‟s address.”

“It was an … interesting experience,” said Bertie remembering. “He is a remarkable man.”

“That is a polite way of putting it.”

“I am asking his daughter to marry me, of course I am being polite. He gave me his blessing,

even if it was plain he would have preferred my family income to come from a landed estate and

not from a business empire.”

“That sounds very much like my father‟s family,” she said with a wry smile.

Bertie gave her a pointed look. “Oh sorry. Did you want an answer?” She asked innocently.

“I believe it is customary for the lady to at least say she will think about the proposal,” said Bertie

as he tried to surreptitiously wipe his palms on his trousers.

Sophia put a finger on the box and slid it in front of her, before opening it. She took out the ring,

looked at it for a moment, before slipping it onto her finger.

“As if my answer would be anything other than yes,” she said smiling at him. “Yes Bertie, I will

marry you.”

Bertie‟s face split into a wide grin, one which Sophia returned.

The two of them were still grinning like loons when Lauren returned. “Ah,” she said noting the

diamond ring on her sister‟s finger. “I see she said yes then.”

“After a while, yes,” replied Bertie.

“But of course. Miss Awkward-So-And-So here likes to make things difficult if she can.”

“I will refrain from commenting on that accusation Lauren, as I am far too happy to get into an

argument with you,” said Sophia.

“Good. At last someone has made you happy. I propose a toast,” Lauren lifted her glass. “To

Sophia and Bertie, may you always make each other happy.”

Simbridge wasn‟t the only place where circumstances were changing. Anthony had managed to

secure the purchase of a property for Victoria, and four months after she moved in with her sister

and her family, Vicky moved into a house on her own.

She stood on the pavement and smiled as she looked up at it. She hadn‟t felt so free, or so

happy since she had walked through the doors to her office the first day of opening the agency.

She had somewhere which was hers and hers alone.

As she watched, David and Zane came out of the front door, having carried the last of her cases

inside for her.

“All done Aunt Vicky,” said David with a smile.

“Thank you boys. Once I have gotten myself settled, you will all have to come round for tea.”

“Tea. That reminds me,” said Zane. “Mama said to remind you that you are more than welcome

to eat with us tonight.”

“Please thank your mother for me Zane, but I think I will make other arrangements for tonight.”

David kissed her cheek. “Of course. We will leave you to enjoy your new home.”

“Goodbye Aunt Vicky. We are only a street away if you need anything or get lonely.”

“Thank you Zane. I promise that I will not forget where you are.” She kissed him and waved as

they walked off in the direction of their house.

She smiled and walked towards the front door. She had just put her hand on the door knob,

when she heard someone hail her. “Good afternoon!”

Suppressing a sigh, she turned to see who had greeted her. It turned out to be a smiling red-

headed man who was standing on the path.

“Good afternoon,” she replied smiling.

“Forgive my impertinence, but I believe we are to be neighbours. Allow me to introduce myself.

My name is Owen Tudor, and this,” he gestured to the curly haired little girl who was trying to

hide behind him, “is my ward, Mari.”

Vicky came down off her front step and offered Owen her hand. “Pleased to meet you Mr Tudor.

Mrs Victoria Simself.”

“A pleasure to meet you Mrs Simself. If there is anything you or your husband need while you

settle into your new home, do not hesitate to ask.”

Her … husband. Vicky gave a forced smile. “You are too kind Mr Tudor. I will be certain to call

on you if there is anything I require.”

Owen bowed to her, and she turned back to go into her new home.

She closed the door and leant against it. Her husband. Of course. It would soon become

obvious to her neighbours that Patrick was not living with her, but she had hoped that she would

have time to settle into her new home before it was noticed. She looked around the hall of her

house and smiled. She would not think about that now. Today she would revel in having her

own space, without nephews rushing around, or disgruntled nieces shooting her dark looks or

even caring, if slightly overbearing sisters dogging her every move.

She would revel in being happier than she had been in years.

Circumstances may have changed for some of the students at Simbridge, but day to day life

continued as normal, and before they knew it, the end of the academic year was nearly upon

them. The rowing squad once again defeated Simford in the annual boat race, Peter being

hailed as the member of the squad who kept them all together.

Over on the football pitch, the team lifted the inter university cup for the first time in five years.

Everyone agreed that while the team had been improving for a time, Bertie‟s leadership was the

main reason for their outstanding performance over the past two years.

Celestia had enjoyed her first year at the Acadamie immensely. Although she found some of the

instruction deathly boring, she had become great friends with Azula Fitzhugh, and the two of

them had managed to get through the dullest of lessons together. It had even been decided that

Azula would move into the VPLs with Celly at the start of the next term, despite not being a

member of the family.

Her dedication to her dancing at the beginning of the year paid off when she was cast as the lead

performer in the Acadamie‟s dance recital. Everyone who watched her performance found it

mesmerising, but perhaps the most enchanted was Derri, who found himself unable to look away

from her graceful form. The time since Celly had started at the Acadamie had cemented to him

the fact that he was completely and utterly in love with her, and her performance only confirmed it

more.

Unfortunately for him, Peter and Andrew were seated nearby and noticed how he was looking at

their sister. They decided that they would have a little word with him very soon.

For Bethany, the end of her time at the Acadamie was both exciting beyond belief and completely

terrifying. She was, she knew, only a few months away from her new life as Mrs Ezra Howard.

She couldn‟t wait, and yet everytime she thought about making her way down the aisle of the

church (why oh why were both sets of parents insisting on such a large venue?) she broke out in

a cold sweat.

She confided as to why to only two people: her twin and Ezra. Christopher‟s reaction had been a

typical diatribe about how if guests drew attention to her parentage, then they were indicating that

they did not wish to continue with the acquaintance once she was married, and she should drop

them, never to speak to them again.

Ezra‟s reaction was much more tender. He said that if such remarks were made, it did not

matter. They only thing which would matter on their wedding day, was that they loved each

other and wanted to spend the rest of their loves together. Everything else could go hang.

It was not surprising that she always felt better after speaking to her fiancé.

Christopher was always glad to be able to head back to the Legacy Society after speaking to his

sister about her worries. It wasn‟t that he didn‟t want o comfort her, far from it. She was his twin,

and they had a deep emotional bond. It was that hearing her voice her concerns about the

reactions to their parentage, made all of the feelings he kept buried, resurface. He could hear

the chants and snide remarks that had dogged him his entire life, as if someone was there

whispering in his ear, and he hated it.

He hated to feel so worthless, so unaccepted. And it was then that his paintings would take on

the darker, more despairing edge, which led to the art masters noting to each other, that if Mr

Smith could consistently produce work of that quality, he would find himself hailed as a new

master, before awarding him a first.

All in all, it was a good end to the academic year for everyone.

Autumn was now fully underway, bringing with it unpredictable showers and a chill to the air

which seemed to cut straight through anyone unlucky enough to get in its way. In the depths of

the Nickel, the inhabitants shivered and pulled threadbare shawls and jackets around themselves

as they swarmed through the dark streets and alleyways, eager to get to the shelter of their

homes.

Apart from one man. John Legacy hurried along the street, not caring when he barged into

someone as he tried to avoid stepping in the gutters. He had never been a patient man, and

being summoned yet again to the depths of the Nickel at night, by Russ, had him seething.

He kicked out at a stray dog in his path as he made his way to their normal meeting place. He

wanted to see some progress, and he did not want to be told that Russ needed more money. If

that was why he had been summoned, he would make his displeasure felt.

He didn‟t spare the landlord a glance as he stomped up the stairs of the tavern, to the room that

had become so familiar to him.

Russ was already waiting for him. “What is it you want Bear?” he demanded.

“No proper greeting Mr Legacy?” chided Russ out of habit. “Are yer not at least going to try ter

keep up the social niceties?”

“No,” stated John. “Unless you plan on telling me that you expect to complete the task I set you

within the next few days, I doubt very much I am going to want to hear what you have to say, and

therefore, this is a waste of my time. I see no reason to be polite to those who waste my time.”

The dim lighting made it difficult for Russ to see John‟s face clearly, but there was no mistaking

his tone. He was not a completely stupid man, and had managed to survive for many years in

the Nickel. He realised that this would be the last time he could chance fobbing John off with

excuses. Time to make one last demand for money and move on.

“Yeah, about that task. as I‟ve explained before, it‟s proving ter be more difficult than I „ad

expected…”

“I want them dead!” exploded John. “I fail to see how that is difficult. Kill them both, before the

eldest one leaves university and impregnates the bitch he marries!”

Russ was silent. John was more desperate than he had thought. When he spoke, it was very

quietly. “Killing them ain‟t difficult. A man can kill anover quite easily if „e „as the guts and mental

strengf ter cope wiv the aftermath. Killing two men wivout implicating yerself. Getting away wiv it

and making sure the Peelers don‟t ever find out „ho did it. That‟s the difficult part. That‟s the part

which is taking time. I don‟t wanna end my life „anging at the end ov a rope, because I rushed

frew killing the grandsons ov yer father‟s bruver.”

John looked deflated for a moment. “How much do you need this time?”

“Fifty should cover it,” said Russ promptly. He would have liked more, but he wasn‟t going to

push.

John nodded. “Fine.” He pulled his wallet out of his jacket pocket and counted out a wodge of

bank notes. Russ watched him, stunned. He couldn‟t believe that a man would walk through the

Nickel at night, carrying that amount of cash. He looked up as the candlelight illuminated the line

of John‟s jaw. Or maybe he could. The arrogance there was unmistakable.

John finished counting and threw the notes onto the table. “I expect progress,” he stated before

storming out, leaving Russ to gather the money up.

It had started to rain since he had entered the tavern, and turning the collar up on his jacket

against it, John strode away towards the main road and a cab back to civilisation. He couldn‟t

believe that there was still no progress, and that Russ had wanted yet more money. All he ever

seemed to do was listen to his excuses and put his hand in his pocket.

He stopped suddenly as new thoughts crowded his head.

No.

That couldn‟t be right.

Was. Was Russ playing him for a fool?

Surely not.

But now the seeds of doubt had been planted, he couldn‟t help but of over all their meetings, all

the excuses Bear had given. The doubts grew and blossomed and he was left with the sneaking

suspicion that Russ had never intended to do as he had promised.

He spun on his heel and headed back towards the pub, determined to have it out with Bear. As

he approached the tavern, he saw the door open and Russ exit. He slowed as he saw Russ

check around before setting off towards the very heart of the Nickel. Making up his mind, John

started to follow.

Russ led him through the twisting alleyways until he stopped in front of a house along one side of

a courtyard, John watched from the shadow of an alley, as Russ opened the door and went

inside.

John went to stride towards the door and knock, but stopped as he drew level with the window. It

was slightly open and he heard a woman‟s voice say “‟ow‟d it go?”

“That‟s the last time I‟m contacting ‟im.”

John crept nearer so that he could see through the gap in the curtains.

“What?”

“The last time. We should move on. Leave the city for a bit.”

“Why?”

“‟E‟s getting impatient and desperate. „E wants the job done and I don‟t fink I can keep fobbing

„im off or pressing „im for more money. It‟s time I disappeared for a bit, until „e forgets about it.”

Outside John‟s mind was reeling. Russ was fobbing him off, he was asking for more money on

purpose, with no intention of doing what John had asked of him.

He had heard enough.

He hammered on the door. “What the bloody „ell?” he heard Russ say before the door opened.

“Oh, it‟s you. Wot do yer want?”

John barged past him, and into the tiny kitchen. “Have you been playing me for a fool?”

“I do not know what you….”

“DO NOT LIE TO ME!” shouted John. “I heard you! Have you only been taking my money? Did

you ever have any intention of doing that which I retained you to do?”

Russ eyed him warily as he slipped past him and stood by the door into the next room. “No,” he

said truthfully. “I‟m a fief, not a murderer. I only ever wanted yer money.”

“But we had an agreement!”

Russ shrugged. “Fiefs, criminals. We ain‟t exactly known for our „onesty.

John was shaking with barely controlled anger. “Why did you… My father said…”

“It was because ov yer father that I did this when you found me. Did yer really fink I‟d pass up the

opportunity ter get back at the man „ho robbed me ov yers ov freedom? Wot better way fer a fief

like me to take a bit ov revenge, than by relieving „Enry Legacy‟s son ov some ov „Enry‟s „ard

earned money?”

“And what about taking revenge on my uncle?”

“Oh that I „ave wiv a few well timed fefts from „is ware‟ouses and shops. I‟m a fief!”

“You threatened violence against my family!”

“A necessary tool fer my profession. I may freaten violence. I may even carry out violence from

time ter time, but I ain‟t a murderer. And fer yer ter fink yer can waltz inter me life, and expect me

ter kill two inconvenient young men fer yer…” his lip curled into a sneer. “Yer deserved ter be

played fer a fool.”

Something snapped inside John at the taunting, and he lashed out at Russ. He landed a solid

blow, causing Russ to spin into the corner of the kitchen table.

Turning on his heel, John stormed out of the little house, and through the twisting, turning

alleyways of the slums. He stopped and tilted his face to the rain.

Two years.

Two years wasted.

He was now only a year, eighteen months at most until the opportunity to replace his cousin‟s

son Bertie as the next head of the family cleanly would slip away, and he had no idea what to do

now his plan had fallen apart.

He thought about the final line of his father‟s letter to him.

Make me proud, Son.

Despair crashed down on him.

He was going to fail his father, he knew it. His father had entrusted him with securing their

family‟s future and he had failed.

He had failed his father.

He had failed his family.

He had failed himself.

And here is where I leave you for this chapter. Hopefully the next one won‟t take so long to get

out, but then again, I do have a lot of work to do rebuilding the neighbourhood for when Bertie

graduates and moves home.

Thanks goes to all my readers for their patient support. I hope you all enjoyed it and will be back

for more.

Thank you also to Regacylady for the permaloan of Ezra and for the gorgeous clothes Bethany,

Sophia and Celestia wear.

Derri is originally from Whedonberry by Stacielee.

Thank you and congratulations to Widget and Marina on the engagement of their simslves.

Widget writes the Discworld Legacy, and Marina writes a Villainous Apocalypse. Also thank you

to their future mother-in-law DrSupremeNerd, the writer of the Vetinari Dualegy for the loan of her

simself, and the fact that she has to suffer being married to Nummy Theo.

Ow Russ, that must hurt.

Until next time, happy simming.