Love, regardless. (For Niceandbrutal and slut_in_white)

Maggie felt like she was being swept along by the strong current that was Lady Florence, while the woman in question moved around her, making plans, explaining things to her, already considering what she would wear and how her hair should be done, and what she would say...

It wasn't until she slowed for a moment, with a small, sad smile on her face, that Maggie finally got a chance to catch up with what Florence was saying. Her voice was sad, and spoke of a broken heart, and Maggie wished for a moment that she could offer her some small comfort... Only to realize belatedly that she could. After all, had Florence herself not giving Maggie a shocking hug just a few moments ago?

And so, a moment after she spoke, Maggie took a step toward her and pulled the older woman in to her own, admittedly hesitant, embrace. "You understand, then, the gift you've given us. Thank you. I can never thank you enough for your help."

"You understand, then, the gift you've given us. Thank you. I can never thank you enough for your help."

The look on aunt Florence's face as she was pulled into the hug with Maggie was one Arthur wanted to frame and hang up on the wall. Her whole posture sort of slumped as the lithe and strong Maggie embraced her and her initial surprise gave way to a sad smile. "I understand only too well, Margaret," was her subdued response. Arthur saw tears in aunt Florence's eyes now. He looked away, feeling like he was intruding on an almost intimate moment. A moment later there was a subtle clearing of a throat as aunt Florence's butler reappeared. "Madam wanted to see me?"

At once, aunt Florence's composure and demeanor changed. Arthur could almost hear her *snap* back to her overbearing no-nonsense persona. "Yes Farnham. This young lady" she nodded at Maggie "will be staying with us for some time. You will treat her with the same respect you treat me, Farnham. And her presence is NOT to be discussed with ANYONE outside this household for the time being. If word gets back to me that there is talk of a mysterious guest in my residence, I will not rest until I find the culprit and gives him or her their notice." Farnham the butler bowed and said simply: "As you wish, madam. If the young lady would come with me I will show her to her quarters and get one of the maids to help her refresh herself before dinner."

Aunt Florence nodded encouragingly to Maggie, and they watched her leave with Farnham. Aunt Florence turned to Arthur, her face set in a grim mask. "I must ask this of you nephew, and I demand an honest answer. Is Margaret intact?" It took a few seconds for Arthur to figure out what his aunt was driving at. Then he blushed furiously. "I can assure you auntie, we've never, that is to say, we've been tempted, but-". Arthur summoned his courage and resolve and looked his aunt squarely in the eyes. "We've kissed, nothing more." But she wasn't finished. Gazing back at him, she asked him, her tone sterner still: "And you Arthur? Have you been consorting with ladies of the night? Or are you as pure as I believe Margaret to be?" Arthur positively squirmed, but he answered truthfully, telling about the run-in he'd had with Maggie's mother in the process. Aunt Florence held his gaze, and Arthur felt like she was scrutinizing him. Then she smiled. "I believe you, Arthur. We shall speak no more of this."

Then she held out her arm to him and Arthur took it and guided her to the dining room. She was of course perfectly able to walk there by herself, but this was a private little joke between them. At the age of seven, Arthur had thougt it sad that his aunt had no man to escort her to the table during a party. And so he had walked up to her and offered her to be her escort. Aunt Florence had smiled and called him her little cavalier.

Arriving in the dining room, they found Maggie waiting for them. She was standing by a chair, looking nervous. Aunt Florence sat down, and Arthur thought he caught an almost imperceptible nod from Farnham as Maggie sat down. A small sigh accompanied by a relieved smile escaped Arthur then. It seemed Farnham understood the situation and was trying to help Maggie fit in.

Maggie was swept out of the room by the butler and into the care of Florence's giggling maids. It was like this for the following several months. Maggie was the center of what felt like a constant whirlwind. Tutors. Hairdressers. Dressmakers. Chefs. Florence insisted that Maggie be refitted what had to be a dozen times over the following few months, as Maggie gained weight, slowly but surely. It was becoming clear that she would never become a big girl - she kept her fine features and bone structure, but her body was starting to round out at the hips and in the chest.

She proved to be a shockingly energetic woman, exhausting her tutors before she was anything close to being ready to stop learning. Having spent so much other life working at least 18 hours a day just to survive, spending her days learning instead of doing anything she could to feed herself was a joy. Left to her own devices, she would spend 12 hours a day devouring whatever education would be provided to her. Florence found it endlessly amusing - women of 'class' would complain of exhaustion after an hour or so, while Maggie seemed entirely willing to go from morning until well into the night. She absorbed information about anything; geography, history, art, but particularly literature. She adored the written word. Without Florence's guidance, she would have happily learned to read and abandoned all other pursuits to lose herself in a library. It always took effort to draw her away from her literary studies in order to teach her other things like etiquette or speech coaching.

The only low point was how little she saw Arthur. Florence was quite insistent; he was not to come over any more often than usual. Nothing was to change - they couldn't afford to risk drawing suspicion before Maggie was introduced to society. She savoured the few visits they managed, and Florence indulgently left them more alone together than she probably should have. She appreciated it - and the trust it suggested - immensely.

The next few months were a test of Arthur's patience. Aunt Florence had insisted that he not come around more than he usually did lest someone (like his brother Cedric) would become suspicious. Arthur had nodded his consent, and he and Maggie had benn allowed a few precous minutes to say goodbye as he left. The kiss when they had parted had been intense and fiery, and Arthur had gone for a long walk to cool off afterwards.

As the months passed, he was again whisked from one function to another, eligible girls being thrown his way. It was torture. At least Fiona had moved away with her parents, which was a blessing for many reasons. Arthur gained a reputation for being a "difficult" bachelor as he politely but firmly rejected one girl after another. His parents despaired and vowed that if he didn't choose a suitable woman by the Christmas Ball they would choose one for him.

Arthur paid Maggie's mom several visits during those long months. The precious few times he met Maggie he passed along messages of love and progress from her to her mother. She was as coarse as ever, but she seemed more at ease as Arthur's money had started changing her life. She told him that she was kept so good that she didn't have to spread her legs for "gentleman callers" anymore. Although Arthur balked at the vulgar turn of phrase, he was glad she was off the streets. For one, he felt she'd done a wonderful job raising Maggie. Someone that had raised such a wonderful woman couldn't be too bad, but a hard life had taken its toll. Secondly, a killer was stalking the streetwalkers of Whitechapel, a gruesome sadist that carved up women and removed their organs. The last time he'd met Maggie's mom, she'd been pale, sober, and frightened. It seems the killer had struck at what had been her usual spot, and that she would surely be dead if it wasn't for Arthur's money. And she hugged him in a thankful embrace.

Arthur, a bit embarassed, had muttered that it wasn't he that had saved her, but the fact that she had done something wonderful when raising her daughter. She seemed taken aback by his words and she seemed almost tearful when she gruffly thanked him for his kind words. They parted on friendlier terms than before.

Once a month, Arthur grew giddy with anticipation. He hated being parted from Maggie, so much so that he often made detours to pass his aunt's house in hopes of getting a short glimpse of Maggie in the windows. But once a month, he put on a little act at home: he sighed heavily and rose, saying "Well, I suppose I better visit aunt florence again. It's been a while." His parents never questioned him about these visits, they thought it good of him to look in on his dotty aunt from time to time. Once there, he met both Maggie and aunt Florence where first aunt Florence and then Maggie told of her progress.

But her progress was plain for him to see. She filled out beautifully as she got more meat on her bones, the picture of a healthy and energetic young english rose. She grew almost frighteningly more learned between each of his visits. He couldn't have been more proud for her. She had seized the opportunity to better herself in every way imaginable. They were left alone for a time, and although Maggie could talk and talk about literature and her progresses until she was flustered and hectic while Arthur watched her dreamily, it was their moments alone they both treasured. Arthur would tell her about his visits to her mother and then they'd more often than not stop talking and just kiss.

The kisses grew longer and ever more fervent, and their hands started moving across each other's bodies, almost on their own accord. And each time, their separation grew progressively harder. Arthur suffered, as he was certain Maggie did.

And one day, he told aunt Florence and Maggie that they had a deadline. He told of his parent's ultimatum, that the Christmas Ball was the last time he could choose a suitable young woman on his own. He hated doing so, but he'd hate it even more if his parents promised him to some pale nothing from a noble family. So they decided that make or break, Maggie would be introduced to noble society at the Christmas Ball.

Christmas came, and with it Arthur's anticipation grew. He grew ever more restless as the ball on Boxing Day approached. When asked, he told about his parent's ultimatum, a plausible explanation. But he was really giddy at the prospect of being allowed to hold Maggie in his arms again, to be able to dance with her with everyone watching, to take her hand at the end of the evening and present her to his parents and announce that he wanted to marry her. Arthur fell asleep on Christmas Day with a smile on his face.

Arriving at the ball, Arthur looked his best in a black smoking with a tie. It wasn't the men who were supposed to shine and sparkle at the balls, or so it was understood. The families gathered in the ballroom of a large palace and mingled, the conversation politely guarded. And then came the moment Arthur had been waiting for: The introduction of the debutantes.

All bachelors lined up, making an alley for the young women and their chaperones to walk through. The large double doors opened, and in strode a gathering of stylish young women, dressed in their best goens and dresses. They were announced by a herold: name, age, parentage, and title of said parents. There was no lack of pale and beautiful young women on display, but Arthur (to the annoyance of his parents) showed no interest. Then, finally, the announcement came: Miss Margaret Thomas, daughter of Jane and Brian Thomas, residing in Bombay, protegé of Florence of Argyle.

As Maggie entered the hall, there was a subdued gasp, and Arthur's heart lurched before doing a double flip. Her hair, her dress, her posture... Was that MAGGIE!? He'd seen her change and blossom, but this night she had achieved perfection. Several sets of eyes followed Maggie as she was escorted by Arthur's aunt up the bachelor alley.

The night of the Christmas ball was here. Maggie couldn't quite believe what Lady Florence had managed in the span of a few short months. It was like a miracle: she had taken a dirty, malnourished, uneducated girl from the streets of Whitechapel and turned her into a proper English lady.

As it happened, apparently being a proper English lady meant spending an entire day being poked and prodded by dressmakers and maids before the evening of the ball.

"Oh, Miss Margret, you're going to look so beautiful!" Maggie's handmaid was an excitable young woman named Hannah. They'd become fast friends when, on one of Maggie's first days at the apartment, Maggie had wandered down to the laundry at 4 in the morning to attempt to do her own washing. She'd been half-finished when Hannah arrived, looking baffled to see Lady Florence's guest trying to do work reserved for the house staff. From there, it hadn't been difficult for her to guess that Maggie was not who Lady Florence was claiming she was - that is to say, a young lady of proper breeding from India. Maggie had been afraid that Florence was going to be upset that she had accidentally given away her secret to the maid, but Florence, while initially annoyed, had finally decided that Maggie needed someone like Hannah who could act as something of a confidante, as well as a teacher to her in more private matters. Hannah had been made Maggie's handmaid, and they became immediately very close.

Maggie smiled at Hannah, though she winced when the dressmaker stuck her with another pin. She tried not to complain - the woman was getting on in years, her eyesight imperfect, but her dress designs were still well known as among the most beautiful and daring in all of London. It had taken Florence months to convince Maggie to express her personal taste in clothing, jewelry or food - for the first several weeks, Maggie had refused to call anything that Florence provided her less than perfect, because it was so much more wonderful than anything she'd had before. Florence had finally snapped at her about having no spine before Maggie had finally started admitting to preferences for certain things over others, and it had taken her even longer to become comfortable with it - she still felt a slight pang of guilt when she admitted to preferring one thing over something else, since she knew that, in her old life, she would have cried with happiness for the opportunity to have something even half as lovely as whatever she was now rejecting. Still, once her own taste had come to light, Florence had been delighted to discover that Maggie's tastes were quite modern and bordering on risque. Never anything inappropriate or even particularly revealing, but rather things that were somewhat more unusual in terms of the fashions currently gripping London's upperclass. It meant that, not only did Maggie stand out for the sheer sake of her physical beauty, but also because her preferred dresses were brighter and had a more natural appearance than the poofy, pastel monstrosities that so many of the other women preferred. Florence once joked that it would make Maggie look like a tropical flower nestled amongst marshmallows.

Around the apartment, Maggie's taste in clothes centered much more readily on the comfortable and practical - something her new peers would likely have found absolutely scandalous - so Maggie hadn't yet been dressed up the way she was being dressed now, and she couldn't comprehend why it could possibly take so very many hours to do a woman's hair (or so very many pins!). She insisted on being able to read during the long afternoon, and Hannah had brought her one of her favourite books - the Illiad. She still struggled to read it, taking minutes at a time to get through any particular page, and often re-reading the same page twice - after all, even a woman with as voracious an appetite for knowledge could not be expected to develop that kind of skill within only a few months. Still, the story of grand magic and adventure that unfolded slowly before her had captured her imagination unlike anything else, and she was very happy to let the women play with her hair for the entirety of the afternoon while she read.

Once they were finished, however, she found herself standing in front of a mirror with her mouth hanging open.

"Close your mouth, Miss Thomas, you look like you're about to swallow the mirror whole," Florence said briskly as she entered the room. Maggie's mouth snapped shut and she smiled, a much softer tone taking her voice. "Margret, dear, you look stunning."

And she did. Maggie hardly recognized herself. Her hair had, over the past several months, taken on a beautiful golden shine, and had grown thicker than she had ever seen it. It was styled into ringlets which were piled up onto the top of her head and flowed in a cascade down her back. Beautiful blue glass beads adorned her hair, making it shimmer as if scattered with tiny stars. Her dress was a matching, dark but vibrant indigo, the colour of the night sky immediately after sunset. It was a rich work of art all on its own, full of lace and folds that fell across her body to grant the slightest of hints at her new, natural curves. Her lips were painted a lovely pink only a few shades darker than her natural lip colour, and her eyes were accented with enough kohl to give the impression of accenting her natural beauty as opposed to the face-paint worn by so many of the other women.

The ball was nearly about to begin, and so Maggie and Florence were swept into the carriage and delivered to the mansion just as the first girls were being announced. Maggie's heart felt like it was about to beat out of her chest. Fears swirled through her mind as she wondered if the nobility would somehow sense that she didn't belong. Images of her being laughed out of the ball danced through her head, and she realized she was gripping Lady Florence's arm so tight that it certainly must have hurt only when Florence put a reassuring hand over Maggie's just before they entered the room. Maggie loosened her grip, lifted her head, and, in the span of a second, ran through all of the posture and etiquette lessons she should manage before the herald announced her name.

A hush came over the hall when Maggie stepped out, and for a moment, she was afraid that she'd been right, that they all knew. Only then, looking down the sweeping staircase, down the row of bachelor's she met Arthur's gaze for a sweet, short moment, and she realized rather giddily that the silence wasn't out of horror or shame. She had struck him - and everyone else - speechless. A blush painted her cheeks as she descended the stairs on Lady Florence's arm, and she tried desperately to smiled at and nod to each of the bachelors she passed instead of simply finding and holding Arthur's gaze again, though she held his for a moment longer than the others, and her smile for him was a little bigger and more genuine.

She was the last of the debutantes announced, so once she and Florence had finished their walk, the row of bachelors scattered to seek out whichever lady had caught their eye on the way through. Maggie, for her part, started floating gracefully through the cloud, making her way ever so subtly toward Arthur, as he moved through the crowd toward her...

Until, rather abruptly, another man stepped into her path. She was shocked to find that he looked quite a lot like Arthur - the same hair, the same jaw-line, the same smile (though, she would be the one of the only ones to know, since Arthur rarely offered a genuine smile to anyone but Maggie and Florence). The real difference was that he looked a little younger - perhaps Maggie's age - and he lacked the glow of kindness in his eyes that Arthur had. He took her hand and, with a grand flourish, kissed her knuckles. "My name is Cedric Conway, Miss Thomas. I was wondering, perhaps, if you would give me the honour of your first dance."

Maggie was tempted to say no. She honestly didn't want to dance with anyone but Arthur. Of course, she knew that would be absolutely rude, and Florence was giving her a look, so she smiled graciously and nodded. "I think I would enjoy that greatly, Master Conway."

He grinned and spun her toward the dance floor. Maggie only had a moment to spare Arthur an apologetic glance before she was swept up by her dance partner.

As the bachelorettes started to spread out, Arthur sought out Maggie. He tried, like Maggie, to subtly weave and dodge his way towards her, but his progress was hampered by several debutantes "accidentally" getting in his way and trying to catch his eye. Arthur couldn't very well just ignore them, but he tried to disengage as quickly and politely as he could. He only had eyes for Maggie, but he wasn't the only one who had eyes for her. Arthur almost groaned in frustration when he saw Cedric beating him to reach Maggie. When she sent him an apologetic look he just nodded. He knew as well as she did how this worked. Officially they didn't know each other. They had to keep up the pretense.

He selected a girl almost at random and asked for the pleasure of the first dance. She turned her head away, blushed, and fanned herself before she meekly replied "it will be my pleasure." The girl Arthur ended up dancing with was pleasant enough, but a thunderous bore. She was meek and just too agreeable for Arthur to like her. There was no substance. She was, in other words, all that Arthur detested in upper class women. He tried to be attentive and keep up a polite conversation as they waltzed around the room, but he kept watch for a blaze of vivid indigo and his annoying little brother. Each time he saw Maggie and his brother he subtly altered course and steered towards them.

Cedric, unfortunately, seemed to have understood what Arthur wanted. He gave Arthur a teasing look and steered himself and Maggie away from Arthur and his dancing partner. Arthur would not be denied, though. As the first waltz ended everyone applauded, and Arthur politely disengaged from his dancing partner. Throwing caution to the wind, he made a beeline towards Maggie. He saw Cedric talking to her, holding her arm, trying to lead her away from the ballroom. Cedric, Arthur knew, was fond of beautiful women for their appearance alone and nothing else. Cedric seemed a bit more insistent now, and Arthur felt his temper starting to rise. If aunt Florence hadn't intervened, Arthur was unsure of what would have happened. Arthur was close enough now to hear Florence in a low voice scolding Cedric for his behaviour.

Arthur now was near enough to discretely clear his throat to get Maggie's attention: "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, Miss Thomas?", he inquired politely, a genuine smile gracing his lips as he again was in the presence of the woman he loved and adored. In the background, aunt Florence rather brusquely demanded that Cedric dance with her. Arthur gently grasped Maggie's waist and clasped her hand as the music started playing. As they looked at each other, Arthur couldn't ever remember being happier.

Cedric was shockingly pushy. Give how insistent Lady Florence had been about good manners, Maggie was quite surprised to find that some nobles, despite being raised among good manners, seemed happy to ignore them. She didn't miss the way he seemed to be purposely keeping her away from Arthur, and when the waltz was over, he grasped her by the arm and attempted to steer her off the dance floor, to God only knew where. He offered very little explanation about what he wanted with her, except to say that he was interested in a more 'private' conversation. Somehow, she doubted conversation was actually his goal.

It was Florence who arrived to save her, admonishing Cedric under her breath while shifting te balance of power in the conversation with a deft hand, enough to allow Arthur to sweep in and ask for Maggie's second dance.

She tried very hard to keep her whole face from lighting up at the idea of dancing with him. She was certain that at least Cedric and Florence noticed her grin. "I would love to dance with you, Sir." Then she brought up her fan, to hide an amused smile. "Pray, do tell me your name." It wouldn't do at all for Maggie to start speaking with him with any familiarity without first learning his name, after all.

The dance itself was pure bliss. There were few things she could possibly enjoy more than spinning in his arms in time with the music, her smaller hand held gently in his. A dance like this provided an opportunity for something like a private conversation, so long as the couple used hushed tones. Maggie smiled brightly at Arthur. "I wonder how many times we can dance tonight without being considered rude for dominating each others' attention too much?"

"I would love to dance with you, Sir. Pray, do tell me your name."

Arthur bowed before Maggie, his eyes never leaving hers. He smiled broadly at her as he replied: "My name is Arthur Conway, Miss Thomas. You honour me with your kind words and by your consent," Arthur replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes as Cedric shot him a dirty look. Aunt Florence smiled at the sight of Maggie and Arthur reunited and looking their very best.

As Arthur led Maggie on to the dance floor, he felt eyes all over the both of them. Arthur didn't much care. He was with Maggie again, that was all that mattered. He gently and firmly seized Maggie's hand and waist and started leading her as the music started playing.

"I wonder how many times we can dance tonight without being considered rude for dominating each others' attention too much?"

Arthur giggled at her question. "There are no rules as to how many times one dances with the same partner," he replied. "Of course, much more than two dances together, and assumptions might be made. People will talk. But do you know Maggie, I really couldn't care less if people THINK we might be an item or not. We both know the answer to that." Arthur's mood was light and joyful. He'd missed his love for so long that nothing, not even Cedric's behaviour.

"Incidentally, I must apologise for my younger brother's behaviour. He's the spoilt schemer of the two of us. I've only heard rumors, but I've heard that my brother has tried to be a little too familiar with some women. Be wary of him."

They danced for a beat, then Arthur commented: "Your dancing is beyond reproach, Miss Thomas. My compliments. Would you do me the honour of the next dance as well?" Another one of the bachelors had sidled up to Arthur and Maggie, eyeing Maggie with a hungry look. Arthur thought he'd better block his access to Maggie by loudly claiming her for the next dance as well. The game was truly afoot. He'd noticed envious stares from most men and some of the women.

Maggie and Arthur spent most of the evening together, either dancing or walking together through the open, chaperoned areas of the palace. By the middle of the evening, the jealous looks had either intensified to barely concealed anger or had dissipated given the apparent fact that neither of them had any interest in anyone but each other. Cedric tried to interfere a few more times, but Maggie deftly sent him on his way, using the excuse that she'd already promised the next dance to someone else.

She did dance a few times with other men, but most of them began to recognize that she was doing it out of a desire to be sociable and polite than out of any real interest. Most of them weren't even particularly offended - society only demanded that she be polite. It could not demand a change of heart, especially not when she's clearly lost hers so very, very quickly to Arthur.

Some of the older, married people, those who had no stake in trying to catch the attention of the young couple, commented with indulgent smiles about what a handsome couple they made - and it was true. Maggie and Arthur looked stunning together.

The only thing left to do, as the evening came to a close, was to present Maggie to Baron and Baroness Conway as a marrying prospect for their eldest son.

The evening flew by, and Arthur couldn't ever remember attending a more pleasant ball. They had to dance with other people from time to time, more for appearances sake than anything else. But it was obvious to everyone that the matter of Master Conway's and Miss Thomas' availability was closed. But now came the hard part: introducing Maggie to his parents.

Gently taking Maggie's hand, Arthur led her to meet his parents, the baron and baroness Conway. "Mama, papa, I'd like to introduce Miss Margaret Thomas. Miss Thomas, this is Philip, my father and the baron Conway, and this is Mathilda, my mother and the baroness Conway. And my brother Cedric you've already met," he added, not quite managing to keep the sting out of his voice.

"Mama, papa, I'd like to meet Miss Margaret, with your and aunt Florence's consent." Aunt Florence nodded and answered "You have my consent, nephew." Arthur smiled gratefully at his aunt. His father, practically beaming at Maggie replied: "You have my consent." His mother's stiff facade cracked in a rare and genuine smile: "Finally, Arthur! I'd started to fear you'd never find a woman to court." She turned to Maggie and smiled. "Miss Thomas, you must indeed posess rare qualities to have caught my son's interest. I am looking forward to learn what those qualities are." Turning to aunt Florence, his mother said: "Florence, I would love to have you and your charge over on New Year's Eve."

Maggie had imagined that her anger would be the hardest emotion to keep reigned in. Indeed, it was the emotion she would have to keep reigned in most, but, surprisingly, she found there was something else harder to control: joy.

Perhaps it was because she hadn't expected to need to. And yet, as Arthur's parents smiled at her and gave her their overwhelming support for their courtship, she felt the insane urge to burst into a fit of laughter and start dancing. She didn't, of course, but the temptation caught her unawares, so small giggle worked its way out of her in response to their smiles, an expression of pure joy that their deception had worked, that she was one step closer to marrying Arthur - his parents' approval meant the world to her. The giggle made her blush. She knew that kind of expression of emotion was considered uncouth. Still, no one seemed to mind - in fact, her reaction to the news seemed to do nothing but engender more indulgent smiles. She could hardly be surprised, she supposed - it was only natural that Arthur's parents be pleased to find that she felt so strongly for their son.

Florence was smiling indulgently at them, too, though Maggie knew that was because she was much more of a romantic than anyone might have guess. "Of course, dear Mathilda. I'm sure we would love to join your family for New Years."

Maggie nodded, her grin still somewhat bashful. "Yes, very much so."

Arthur was over the moon with joy. He was now allowed, no, encouraged to seek out Maggie and spend time with her. As they departed from the Christmas ball, Arthur played his part well. His back turned to his parents, he grabbed Maggie's dainty gloved hand and said: "I fear it'll feel like time will stand still until we meet again, Miss Thomas. I hope you will think as favourably of me as I will of you." And he gave her a small wink and an impish little smile before kissing her hand. On the way home in their carriage, the Conways were chatting away amiably enough. Arthur's mother commented how Maggie had seemed to take to Arthur the moment their eyes met. Arthur's father said nothing. He just looked approvingly of his oldest son as if to say "good catch, my boy!" And Cedric? He sulked.

Later that evening, Arthur came upon his brother in the family's living room. He sat alone, drinking. Arthur tried to sneak away, but Cedric called after him: "Are you afraid of the competition, dear brother?"Arthur sighed before hu turned around: "The way you behaved tonight offered me no competition at all. Margaret was only too happy to be rid of you and your grabby hands, Cedric. When it comes to women you are like a bull in a china shop, dear brother." And he turned and walked off.

The New Year party was, for the upper tiers of society, a small affair. The Conways had invited Florence and Maggie, as well as the families of the men in charge of running the mines in South Africa where the Conways had partial ownership. The Mirabel family was a happy union of boer and english, in England for the Christmas holidays to visit relatives, while the Clancys were all english, in England for the same reason as the Mirabels: family. The first part of the evening was a crushing bore, as Arthur, Cedric, and their father were obliged to listen to reports on the progress of the mines. After the dinner bell rang, they convened with the rest of their families to make pleasant small talk. Arthur smiled when he saw that most men gravitated towards Maggie, and that they all seemed to want to try to impress her with their tales. Arthur went to her and stayed by her side as all male Mirabels and Clancys told tales of the african bush, one story wilder than the other. Cedric, meanwhile, did his best to impress the female Mirabels and Clancys. The party was a success, only slightly marred by Cedric's insistence on hanging up mistletoe and kissing all and sundry. In the end, their father had to put his foot down and send Cedric off. Arthur stuck close to Maggie throughout the evening, attentive to her every question and her every need.

The new year ushered in a change for Arthur and Maggie. It was now expected of them to be in each other's company and Arthur's mother, and aunt Florence became very busy indeed as chaperones. They visited art galleries, museums, concerts, and ballet performances. And if Maggie might seem a bit too enthused about everything they did, it might easily be explained away by the lack of proper cultural institutions in India. As the weather grew milder as spring progressed, Arthur and Maggie started frequenting the parks in the city. They were after a while allowed to sit alone, with their chaperones at a modest distance. Minimal physical contact was allowed, but no-one frowned when Arthur kissed Maggie's hand. That was expected. During these months, Maggie grew ever more knowledgeable and refined, and Arthur looked forward to when they could sit alone and discuss things without the strictures and expectations of society hampering the choice of subjects.

It was right before easter when Arthur's parents summoned him to his father's study to have what Arthur had come to think of as The Talk. It was pleasant enough. They asked Arthur if his intention was to wed Maggie, to which Arthur could reply with a resounding 'yes', making his parents smile. They went over practical matters like economy and living arrangements and decided that a house not too far from his parents' house was preferable. Arthur and Maggie would come into percentages of the income of the mines. They would want for nothing. Matters then turned to engagement and wedding. Arthur had already picked out a ring, but he was adamant that he should propose in private and that the party should be after the fact. His parents relented in the end.

Then Arthur's father turned grave. He told that he'd received a letter about Cedric's attendance at Cambridge. It was less than satisfying. Cedric had apparently been away days and weeks on end. Arthur's father wondered if Arthur knew anything about this. Arthur could only shake his head. It set him to wonder: what HAD Cedric been up to?

Maggie couldn't believe the turn her life had taken. Once Arthur made public his intention to court Maggie, they started seeing each other regularly. As winter passed into spring, it developed into almost daily meetings, though sometimes they were somewhat shorter. She found herself living the fantasies that she'd been thinking about since the first moment she met him - long walks in the park, talking about whatever they desired. She enjoyed their strolls the most, since it allowed Florence and Mathilda to give them a little more space, thus allowing them to speak on whatever they wanted without too much concern for being overheard.

Once Maggie had walked into Florence's study to hear that she and Arthur had become quite the subjects of gossip - the notoriously difficult-to-please Arthur Conway had gone from being somewhat cold and aloof to behaving almost inappropriately love-struck. Maggie had had no idea it was unusual for a courting couple to go out of their way to see each other every day, but apparently it was so. Not that it was considered strictly inappropriate either, but rather was simply considered an expression of emotion more intense than most nobles generally allowed themselves. It was only that it was particularly surprising to see such an expression from Arthur. The question on everyone's lips now was why on Earth it was taking him so long to officially propose. Everyone knew it was coming. Strictly speaking, most couples waited several months before becoming engaged, but then, strictly speaking, most couples weren't as obviously head-over-heels in love with each other as Maggie and Arthur.

Hannah, too, seemed to have an extra spring in her step in recent days. When Maggie asked her why, she simply said she'd met a charming young man, and Maggie had simply smiled and changed the subject. If she wanted to keep such things private, that was her prerogative. She only wished Hannah the best - she was such a lively, sweet girl.

It happened on the day Arthur proposed to Maggie.

The day had started out brilliantly. A messenger had arrived with an engagement ring made for Maggie with gold and a diamond made from the mines in Africa the Conways had ownership in. It came from the best jeweller in London in a white wooden box lined with blue velvet. Jumping up and down excitedly before composing himself, Arthur went to his mother and told her that he needed to go to aunt Florence RIGHT AWAY. He showed her the ring, and her reaction was as pleasant as it was predictable. She gasped, clapped her hands before her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes. "Oh Arthur!" she exclaimed, "today? You will propose to Margaret today?" Arthur nodded. "Well, go then! Go and propose, Arthur!" Arthur kissed his mother on both cheeks and ran off, returning only briefly to collect the box with the ring he'd forgotten to bring with him.

On his way over, he sat practicing in the coach. "Maggie, will you marry me? Maggie will you do me the honour of marrying me? Please marry me, Maggie?" and on and on and on. The coach driver just smiled indulgently at the young man nervously rehearsing his proposal. And like that he was at his aunt's apartment. He waited nervously after knocking on the door, actually jumping as Farnham opened the door. Farnham smiled and let Arthur in as he told Arthur that aunt Florence and Maggie were having breakfast in the dining room. Arthur thanked him and all but ran past him.

Aunt Florence and Maggie both looked up as Arthur barged in. "Well speak of the Devil..." aunt Florence said. Arthur looked at his aunt florence meaningfully as he said: "I got a special delivery this morning. Could you indulge me and give me a few minutes alone with Maggie?" Aunt Florence practically beamed. "Special delivery" was an agreed-upon phrase to signal that the engagement ring was ready. "I think I shall repair to my study. I'll tell the servants to... I'll tell the servants," she said. And with a wink, she was gone.

Arthur kneeled in front of Maggie. The look on her face made it clear to him that she expected what he was about to say. But he had to say it anyway. "Maggie, my life hasn't been the same since I met you. You showed me what a woman could truly be when you yelled at me and pushed me that night. And later, when my carriage ran down that little boy you were there again, resourceful and unafraid. You are the only woman that has made me feel truly wanted, loved, and alive, and I can't bear the thought of living my life without you." He produced the box and opened it: "Margaret Thomas, will you marry me?"

(Meanwhile, Cedric was at home, in bed, a triumphant smile on his face. He had his brother now.)

Maggie quite enjoyed taking breakfast with Lady Florence each morning. Now that they'd grown more accustomed to and comfortable with each other, she found her conversation to be both quick-witty and entertaining.

This morning, they spoke about Arthur. Florence kept taking on this almost mischievous look to her expression whenever they spoke of him, and Maggie kept trying to prod her to understand what it was that she knew that Maggie didn't, but Florence was quite masterful at controlling polite conversation, and kept redirecting the conversation away from the topic, much to Maggie's consternation. It seemed, however, that she wouldn't need to wait much longer to find out, because Arthur all but burst into the breakfast room, his eyes alight and his breathing quite hectic.

He informed Florence that a special delivery had arrived this morning and that he wanted to speak with Maggie alone. Florence, in response, gave him a wide grin and actually tripped over her words while she left the room, something Maggie was certain she'd never seen the woman do even once before.

She didn't have very long to guess at what on earth was going on, because the moment her gaze returned to Arthur, he was kneeling on the floor in front of her, and Maggie's heart leaped into her throat. He didn't have to speak - she knew what was happening now. In fact, this had been the point of everything they'd worked so hard for over the past year. And yet, despite all that, despite having known this day would come, she found tears of joy welling up in her eyes while Arthur sang her praises, reminding her of how they met and explaining how she'd managed to capture his heart so quickly.

"Margaret Thomas, will you marry me?"

The ring was absolutely stunning - a shimmering stone set in a beautifully engraved gold band. She held her breath, as if she were afraid even the slightest movement of the air would shatter this perfect moment, her gaze shifting from the ring to Arthur's face. She could not imagine a man she could ever love more. Everything about him that she loved seemed to shine through in that moment - kindness, intelligence, patience, respect, and a boundless adoration for Maggie herself.

"Yes!" she squeaked, quite unable to control her own voice. She threw aside all sense of propriety for the moment and simply threw her arms around him, slipping off her chair and down into his lap while she kissed him fiercely. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" Once they'd parted from their kiss, she had regained control of her voice, for the most part, and only had to contend with her joyous laughter while she spoke.

A flurry of blonde hair and a soft and happily eager woman fell in Arthur's lap as excited cries of "Yes!" filled his ears. Arthur had never seen a more beautiful or uplifting sight as Maggie presented him now. Her arms were around his neck and they were kissing now, kissing with a passion that they'd had to rein in for the past months. Then, sitting on the floor, they started talking about the wedding and the engagement party. Arthur knew that both his mother and his aunt Florence would want to control as much of the planning as possible, but it was important that Maggie voice her wishes as well.

Arthur sat watching her now, giggling and happy, mirroring his emotions. They were so close now. Close to be together for the rest of their lives. Close to talk freely with each other. Close to lie down with each other as husband and wife. The thought struck Arthur with unexpected force. He pulled Maggie closer to him and whispered in her ear: "Just think, in only a few months time we'll consummate our marriage. I- it's not something a gentleman is supposed to say, but I don't care. I'm looking forward to be alone with you in our chambers." He softly kissed her cheek. Then their lips locked and they kissed deeper and more lustful than ever before. How far they would've gone if aunt Florence hadn't re-entered the room, Arthur couldn't say.

"I see your wedding can't come soon enough," aunt Florence teased with an indulgent smile and a twinkle in her eyes. Arthur helped Maggie up, all the while apologising profusely. He was cut off by aunt Florence. "Don't apologise for loving your fiancée, boy! I for one am happy to see someone finally marrying out of love. Now, we must celebrate! Farnham! Champagne! And some strawberries, if you please!"

They spent the rest of the morning drinking the bubbly wine. They were all giggly and in high spirits as the day progressed. Arthur was happy to sit by Maggie's side as she and aunt Florence discussed wedding plans. Arthur's parents were summoned, and they were both happy as they welcomed Maggie into the family.

Cedric was conspicuously absent, though.

Maggie hadn't expected how difficult it would be to maintain a sense of propriety once they were engaged. She rarely stopped laughing, she never stopped smiling, and every time she was in the same room as Arthur, she had to physically hold herself back from constantly touching him affectionately, or kissing him, or simply being inappropriately close to him. It was naturally welcome for an engaged couple to show affection for each other, but they were still expected to maintain restraint, and Maggie's restraint was fraying embarrassingly quickly. Arthur's words to her on the floor of the breakfast room immediately following their engagement hadn't helped; Just think, in only a few months time we'll consummate our marriage.

To tell the truth, Maggie had hardly stopping thinking about it since. Every touch was imagined against bare skin instead of through layers of satin and lace. Every kiss was imagined to lead to more, and Maggie always parted from him with a flush crawling over her skin and her breath coming shorter than such chaste kisses should have caused. Each night, she woke twisted in her sheets, panting and gasping while her body responded to the intimate dreams she was having about him. Their wedding could not come soon enough.

After having an impromptu celebration with Maggie and aunt Florence, Arthur rode home with his parents. His parents were in an exceptionally fine mood, commenting on the deep devotion Maggie and Arthur displayed. It seemed that the romantic mood had rubbed off on his parents as well. They started reminiscing about their own courtship and wedding, making Arthur smile and giggle as he watched his mother blush and playfully swat at his father as he made some jokes that might, in their day, have been considered risqué.

Arriving home, Arthur went to his chambers. Waiting inside was Cedric, a gloating triumphant smile on his face. Arthur's mood wasn't buffeted even by his little brother. "Margaret and I are engaged!" he exclaimed. Cedric's grin only grew wider. Arthur felt the first stirrings of unease. He knew the signs only too well. Cedric was up to something.

"What would you say, dear brother, if I told you that I know about your secret? You and, ahem, Margaret, that is?" Arthur's mood sank like a rock. HOW!? How could he know? He decided to test him. "What are you talking about, Cedric?" Arthur countered. Ceric's reply floored him.

"I'm talking about a young woman from Whitechapel capturing the heart of a rich and eligible nobleman bachelor. I'm talking about said nobleman falling for the young woman as well. I'm talking about the young woman and the nobleman bachelor conspiring with a rebellious old relative of said bachelor to train the young woman, to groom her to pass as a young woman of higher rank. THAT'S what I'm talking about, dear brother!" Cedric's smirk was as insufferable as ever, and Arthur had to resist the urge to smash his teeth in.

"Now," Cedric continued, "why do I even care? Well obviously, if I could find this out, who is to say that no-one else could? And what would happen to the name of the noble Conways if they found out that their oldest son, the heir, was to marry some tramp from Whitechapel, I wonder? People would shun you, Arthur, you and your darling 'Margaret', if that is indeed her real name." Arthur felt anger rising now. He could endure most anything, but he would not stand idly by when someone, not even his little brother, insulted the love of his life.

"Don't call her a tramp," Arthur said through clenched teeth. His tone of voice caused Cedric to pause. Arthur continued: "And how, exactly, did you come by this 'information', Cedric?"

Cedric smirked again, that insufferable triumphant grin. "I'd rather not reveal my sources, brother. Suffice to say that this person is indeed very knowledgeable about you and Margaret."

"Suppose it was true, Cedric. Why would you mention this to me?" Arthur knew his brother well enough to know that this was just the bait. "What would you want to do with this information?" Again that insufferable smirk.

"Want? Why, to keep the name of Conway clean of slander and scandal, of course," Cedric replied. Arthur dropped all pretense now. Cedric seemed to know far too much already. "Then please don't tell anyone, then, if that's all you want! That shouldn't be too hard even for you!" Arthur's anger made him careless now, made him say things he might regret.

"Oh, but I find secrets like this so DAMNABLY hard to keep, dear brother! Of course..." Cedric paused for effect. This was it. Arthur was prepared for anything. He'd gladly give up his title and inheritance if only he got to keep Maggie. "Leave her to me, let me marry that beautiful creature, and her secret is safe with me." It was a monstrous proposal, and Arthur had to compose himself. He wanted to pummel his brother into submission.

"Let me think about it," Arthur said, wanting to win time more than anything.
"Don't think TOO long now, dear brother. I give you... two days before I divulge your dirty little secret.

"Thank you," Arthur said with real bile and anger in his voice. "Now GET OUT, Cedric!" Cedric left. Arthur threw himself on the bed, groaning. He didn't need this. He had to go to aunt Florence's and explain the situation. Their secret would be revealed, he would have to forfeit his title and inheritance, but he would still marry Maggie. They'd make do, somehow. But it wasn't what he'd wanted for Maggie. Or himself, for that matter.

Sleep was late in coming that night.

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The following morning, Arthur departed for aunt Florence's place early. He felt Cedric's eyes on him all the while he was at home, and he couldn't get out of the house quick enough.

He was let in by a smiling Farnham, and Arthur wondered whether he might be the snake in the grass. He was shown in to the small dining room where Maggie and aunt Florence had their breakfast. He could hear their voices, Maggie's light cheerful voice and aunt Florence's somewhat deeper more reserved voice. Arthur had to stop to fight back the tears. It broke his heart that he'd have to deny Maggie the life he'd promised her. But he was willing to forsake it and he felt sure that she did too, if it only meant they'd be together. Bracing himself, Arthur opened the door and walked inside.

"Nephew! If you keep this up I shall have to set the table for- what's wrong, Arthur?" Arthur had tried to enter with a modicum of composure and dignity, but his facade cracked ever so slightly. After asking aunt Florence to dismiss staff members from the room, he began with a quavering voice and red and glazed eyes to tell of his conversation with Cedric and how he saw only one solution to the problem: give up title and inheritance to be with Maggie.

As aunt Florence listened she grew silent and pale, anger etched on her features.

And in that moment, it all came crashing down. Maggie listened, with growing horror, as Arthur explained what Cedric wanted. She had imagined him wanting the title and the wealth that came of being the first-born son... but no, he wanted Maggie. All it did was make certain she could never, ever want him. Ever. He saw her as a prize to be won, a trophy taken from his brother.

She knew Arthur would not abandon her. She knew he would never give her up. He would take the humiliation of their ruse being revealed, if only to stay with her. They loved each other far, far too much. This past year had been a fairy tale, but Maggie found herself thinking of a more modest life together. Arthur was a well-educated and well-connected young man. He could easily find work. And now that Maggie could read and write herself, there would be little preventing her from taking on odd jobs, were it required. She could imagine it easily - simple clothes, a small, comfortable house. No servants, but Maggie was a more than capable house keeper in her own right. Modest, but comfortable. She could imagine sitting in a small living room, with a roaring fireplace, mending clothes by the the fire while the children played on the floor. Maggie would stop occasionally to help the eldest, a little girl with Arthur's thick black hair and Maggie's eyes, while she learned to read. Arthur would return from work, and Maggie would welcome him home with a kiss while the children ran to greet their father. Yes, she could be very happy with that life.

What she could not handle was the thought of Arthur's humiliation. The nobility were unerringly cruel, and she knew the things that would be said about both of them. Surely there would be stinging barbs for Maggie, but they were not out of the ordinary. These were words she'd heard her entire life from people who called themselves "noble" but had not a single truly noble bone in their bodies. It was the thought of them turning them venom against Arthur that hurt her. The thought of his pain when his family inevitably disowned him, all for falling in love with her.

She began to feel ill at the thought, struck by an anger so visceral that it made her dizzy. She shot suddenly to her feet, even before Arthur had finished speaking, swaying slightly for a moment. "E-excuse me." And before either he or Florence could say anything further, Maggie fled, bursting into tears as she ran through the house to her room.

Hannah was there, hanging up some of her freshly cleaned dresses. Maggie stopped abruptly, rearing back in surprise at the sight of the other girl. Hannah dropped the dress she was holding, shocked by Maggie's clear distress. Then, without a word, Hannah folded the smaller Maggie into a tight embrace. It didn't matter what was wrong - it was simply clear that Maggie needed comfort.

Maggie collapsed into sobs and the two of them knelt on the floor together, with Maggie clinging tight to Hannah while she cried. She took a moment calm herself, but once she did, words began to tumble out of her in an almost incomprehensible heap. She tried to explain what was happening, but her emotions were so tumultuous that it took several tries before she managed to get them straight.

Once she did, however, Hannah began to cry too, and, after a few minutes of sharing their tears, Maggie began to realize that Hannah's tears were not - or not just - tears of sympathy. Thus it came as no surprise when Hannah's own words started spilling out of her mouth in a mess as she confessed.

"Oh Miss Maggie, I'm so sorry! I had no idea what was happening... I thought... I thought I was going to have a story like yours. You and Master Conway were so happy, it was like a fairy tale and I thought... I thought he loved me...." Hannah managed to get as much out before she collapsed into sobs again.

With something new to focus on, with someone to comfort, Maggie's own pain was pushed easily aside while she began to comfort Hannah instead. "What do you mean?" she cooed softly, her voice gentle.

"Cedric! I thought... I thought perhaps all the men of the Conway family had a penchant for falling in love with poor girls...."

Maggie held her tighter, sighing deeply. "He was the charming young man you mentioned..."

Hannah nodded. "I'm afraid I'm the one who told him about you and Master Arthur. I didn't mean to! He led me to think that he already knew. I thought... I didn't know I was revealing the secret! And now I've ruined your marriage, and he only seduced me to get information. He never cared for me at all..." She burst into renewed tears then, repeating only half-coherent apologizes over and over.

Maggie smoothed the distraught girl's hair back, hugging her tightly, soothing her gently. "I could not blame you for this. You were in love. He broke your heart. I'm so sorry this happened to you, Hannah. You deserve to be happy."

Hannah looked up at her, absolutely baffled. "You... you're apologizing to me? Even after what I did?"

Maggie nodded, smiling sadly. "You did nothing wrong. He misled you. He misled all of us. How could I blame you for not seeing a deception the rest of us were blind to as well?"

"E-excuse me."

Arthur heard the quaver in her voice, and he knew she was upset. He was on his feet, wanting to go after her, but aunt Florence stayed him. "Don't despair, Arthur. First we will find the traitor in our midst and then your weasel of a little brother shall pay. Now go after her." Arthur had been shown Maggie's quarters previously so he knew the way. As he left the dining room he heard aunt Florence calling Farnham in a thunderous voice. Still feeling rather sad, Arthur was nevertheless happy to at least have his aunt on his side.

Arriving outside Maggie's room, Arthur coul clearly hear her cry. His first impulse was to open the door and sweep her in his arms. But she was not alone. He heard another young woman crying. Arthur didn't want to barge in on a stranger, so he waited outside the partially closed door. Then the other woman began to talk, to explain, to blame herself for Cedric's machinations. And his anger at his brother turned to a cold hatred. But his heart swelled with pride at the way Maggie consoled and forgave Hannah.

Opening the door to Maggie's chambers now, he cleared his throat: "I heard the whole sorry tale, Hannah. There is nothing to forgive. You've done us no wrong." He walked over to the two sobbing women and placed a consoling hand on Hannah's shoulder as he embraced Maggie. "Cedric will pay for this," he said through clenched teeth.

"What the devil is going on here?" Aunt Florence's voice cut through the haze of raw emotions. Arthur brought her up to speed regarding Hannah and Cedric, and he saw a sadness fill aunt Florence's eyes. "You'll have to excuse us for a few minutes, Arthur. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask Hannah some delicate questions not fit for a gentleman to hear. Oh, don't worry child! No matter what you answer I'll keep you in my employ!" Aunt Florence smiled her warmest smile now at Hannah who'd started crying again. She turned towards Arthur: "Now go and wait in the dining room, there's a good chap!"

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Arthur left. Back in the room were Maggie, Hannah, and aunt Florence. Aunt Florence sat on the bed, pulling Hannah up on one side and bidding Maggie to sit on Maggie's other side. "There is no delicate way to ask this, so I'll just come right out and say it. But whatever the answer you give me, do not be afraid of me or any consequences. I'm too old and too rich to give a toss about what 'polite society' thinks of me!" This caused a wavering smile from Hannah. "Now then," aunt Florence continued, "Cedric, did he touch you? That is to say, did you sleep with him, Hannah?"

Maggie started when she heard Arthur's voice from the door, and Hannah started crying again, this time panicked that she would get into trouble or lose her job over this. Instead, Arthur swept Maggie into his arms and comforted Hannah. Maggie found herself fall instantly even more deeply in love with him. Despite the trouble she had inadvertently caused, it had been an accident, and she had been manipulated into it. Maggie was endlessly glad that Arthur recognized that as well as she did.

Maggie, for her part, immediately clung to Arthur as soon as he took her into his arms, tears coming fresh once again. It wasn't that his presence made her more upset. Indeed, it was quite the opposite - the feeling of his arms around her reminded her that, no matter what happened, they would be together, and she would always feel safe with him. Her tears were some odd combination of relief and an expression of the sadness she'd been keeping bottled up, that she only felt safe to express in his arms.

"What the devil is going on here?"

Despite the sharpness of her tone, Maggie was oddly relieved to hear Florence enter the room. Her presence would lend them purpose. She would take charge of the situation and they would do something. Actions could be taken. They could take their first steps towards a solution.

Soon, Florence sent Arthur away, leaving the three women in Maggie's room, with Hannah still weeping softly.

"Cedric, did he touch you? That is to say, did you sleep with him, Hannah?"

There was a long pause, and Hannah nodded slowly. "He... he told me that he loved me. That we'd be married as soon as he could figure out some way to convince his parents to allow it. That's when I told him about Miss Maggie and Master Arthur. I thought... I didn't know..." She paused, swallowing a sob. "He said that he wanted to marry me, and that he'd have married me tomorrow if we could, and that he would do so the moment we could get away with it, so there was no sense in waiting. He said promised me that it wouldn't matter if I slept with him before marriage, because we would be married soon anyway, and it would not be fair of society to make us wait..." She broke down into tears again. "I feel so foolish..."

"And is your period late, Hannah?" Hannah, understanding full well the implication of that question, broke down and cried again as she nodded. Aunt Florence's face was now a mask of fury, frightful to behold. "That little TWERP will not get away with this! He has used you and discarded you in his hunt for a trophy wife! No offence to you Maggie, but that's probably how he sees you. He probably think you'd be easy to control, as he knew your secret. He didn't expect your and Arthur's love to be so strong that you were willing to defy convention to be together." "

Now," she smiled an enigmatic smile, "I want both you and Hannah to come with me to meet Arthur again, Margaret. I foresaw that something like this might happen and took steps to have some countermeasures ready." There was a twinkle in her eye now, as if she were almost amused. "Cedric will regret ever crossing the likes of us! Now come along!"

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Arthur sat in the dining room, pondering his prospects. He could write for a newspaper maybe, or try his hand as an author. Maybe he could help with research for science or- his thoughts were interrupted as he heard the steady clack-clack of aunt Florence's footsteps. The door burst open and aunt Florence marched in with Maggie and Hannah in tow. She turned to Hannah and said with a gentle voice: "I have to tell my nephew everything Hannah. You must be brave. If I know Margaret and Arthur correctly, you will be well taken care of." Aunt Florence proceeded to tell Arthur that Hannah was "in circumstances" because of his brother. Arthur grew pale with anger and kneeled before Hannah.

"Hannah, I cannot tell you how deeply sorry I am that my brother has used you like this. No matter what happens to Maggie and myself, we will do what we can to help you. I'm sure Cedric will deny all charges, but I can see the truth in your face, Hannah." Hannah looked up and gave a brief smile. "Thank you Sir," she replied before burying her face in her hands again.

"I told Margaret and Hannah that I had managed to dredge up some countermeasures if something like this were to happen. Now listen closely: I took it upon myself to call on an old friend, a schoolmaster returned from India, and I told him how my charge so unfortunately lost her graduation papers on her voyage here. I "reminded" him of you, Margaret, in the vaguest way possible. By the end of our conversation he was ABSOLUTELY sure he remembered you." With a little flourish, she produced a paper bearing Maggie's name. It was a confirmation from Schoolmaster William R. Thorpe (Retired) that Miss Margaret Thomas indeed had attended school in Bombay under his tutelage. He wrote of her exemplary behaviour and her excellent grades in sewing, english literature, and history. He went on to write about her fine character natural good grace.

Arthur gawped. "But auntie, this is forgery!" Aunt Florence shrugged. "All is fair in love and war, dear nephew! Now, we need to pre-empt your foul little brother, Arthur. I think it best that we leave AT ONCE for your parents' place and confront them with his wicked despicable behaviour. You must come with us, Hannah. You have to be brave. This will all be over soon."

As they sat in the carriage on their way to the Conway house, Arthur turned to Maggie and whispered: "I've been thinking about Hannah's predicament. If our plan succeeds, I think we should adopt Hannah's child and hire her as a nursemaid. That way, it will grow up in a loving household and it'll be taken well care of, as will its mother. It's my niece or nephew after all, and I can't bear the thought of a child relative being cast away because it's "illegitimate". I think that's the best we can do for them under the circumstances. What do you think, Maggie?"

"I've been thinking about Hannah's predicament. If our plan succeeds, I think we should adopt Hannah's child and hire her as a nursemaid. That way, it will grow up in a loving household and it'll be taken well care of, as will its mother. It's my niece or nephew after all, and I can't bear the thought of a child relative being cast away because it's "illegitimate". I think that's the best we can do for them under the circumstances. What do you think, Maggie?"

Maggie nods. "And we'll make sure that Hannah is treated as the child's mother within our walls. I would like for her to feel safe in the knowledge that her baby is still hers."

She spent much of the carriage ride holding Hannah's hand comfortingly. The poor girl was shaking like a leaf. Maggie didn't blame her. The noble and wealthy held a terrifying amount of control over the life of a woman like Hannah. Were Florence a crueler mistress, Hannah would find herself outed by the end of the day, with no prospects. It would be very likely that a maid in her position would be forced to turn to prostitution without support from the child's father. Maggie would make certain that could never happen. Hannah would always have a place in her household.

They arrived quickly at the Conway manor, and poor Hannah simply started shaking even harder. Maggie helped her out of the coach, physically supporting her while they went inside to confront Cedric and his parents.

"And we'll make sure that Hannah is treated as the child's mother within our walls. I would like for her to feel safe in the knowledge that her baby is still hers."

Arthur kissed Maggie's hand then. "Of course, darling." He felt a new wave of love and gratitude wash over him as he saw Maggie's resolve to help Hannah. Arriving at the Conway estate, Hannah all but fell apart. Maggie went to her side immediately to support her, and Arthur flanked Hannah on the other side, supporting her as well.

Aunt Florence marched to the door and knocked hard. They were shown inside by the butler, and Arthur's parents and Cedric were summoned on aunt Florence's insistence. Cedric's entrance caused Hannah to promptly faint. Arthur and Maggie helped her up on a couch as Arthur's parents loudly demanded to know what was going on.

When Hannah came to, aunt Florence started talking: "It has come to my attention that your youngest son, Cedric, has been seeing Margaret's handmaiden Hannah. They've met secretly, as far as I can tell. Or did you know about this, Philip? Mathilda?" Both Arthur's parents replied that no, they didn't know."As if that wasn't bad enough, he's fooled her into thinking he'd marry her. So convincing was he that he's placed poor trusting Hannah here in circumstances."

Arthur chimed in: "This might account for his absence at Cambridge, father." Cedric shot daggers at Arthur then and he opened his mouth to say something. But he was cut off by aunt Florence: "The question now is, what do we do?" Arthur's parents simply gaped. Then they turned the full wattage of their stares against Cedric: "IS THIS TRUE, CEDRIC," Philip roared. Cedric piped up: "I did it to reveal Margaret here for the fraud that she is!"

And Cedric told what he had learned about Maggie.

The whole room went silent when Cedric told his story. Several emotions ran across both Philip's and Mathilda's faces - confusion, surprise, betrayal. As he finished, Philip was looking angrily at Arthur, and Mathilda, who had honestly come to like Maggie over the past several months, looked somewhat heartbroken at the news.

Cedric finished and there was a long silence. Finally, Philip asked, "Is this true, Arthur?" He sounded quite upset. But before Arthur could answer, Florence intervened, scoffing angrily.

"Of course not, Philip! Goodness, what do you take me for? To suggest I would allow such a street urchin into my home, much less to marry my nephew!" She shot a hard look at Cedric, who appeared shocked by the fact that she was actually trying to continue the ruse. He had evidently expected them to fold when presented with the story. Instead, Florence swept across the room to stand between Philip and Mathilda. "Your black sheep of a son has been threatening to reveal this horrific falsehood as a means of trying to blackmail poor Arthur and Margret. He seduced poor dear Hannah in the attempt to discover whether dear Margret had any proof of her heritage. Poor girl lost all of it in a fire in her family's home in Bombay and he attempted to take advantage of her poor fortune!" She gave Cedric a harsh look, who had gone completely pale. "I, however, am not so dire in my misfortune. I was lucky enough to contact an old friend, a teacher in Bombay, who had tutored Margret in her youth." She withdrew the letter and presented it to Philip.

As Baron Conway read it, Cedric seemed to become aware that his fortunes had changed drastically, and took two steps towards the door before his father barked. "Stay. Where. You. Are." Cedric froze in place, as did Maggie - it seemed Baron Conway could be a terrifying man when angry, and Maggie found herself suddenly very glad that she was not the target of his fury.