[center][hr][img]http://fontmeme.com/permalink/170605/e9a83da90e0b8f159f4a485aae279ad9.png[/img]
[youtube]https://youtu.be/b3oT0BiSWZA[/youtube]
[color=0072bc][i]"Sweet dreams are made of these.... Some of them want to use you..... Some of them want to abuse you.... Who am I to disagree...."[/i][/color][hr][/center]

	Mrs. Wyndham was set on the glass top and the doctor got to work on doing what he could to stabilize her more and secure her to the table. He wanted her moving as little as possible. Transporting her to the hospital was going to be cumbersome enough, the roads even within the city were not smooth as one would like. Cobblestone was like that. He was glad Fyror had stepped aside, he had a method and more hands would only make it take longer. 

	Emma looked up at Fyror, startled by his words. Granted at that point anyone could have spoken to her and she would have jumped. The girl was lucky she had not fainted as of yet. In fact it took Emma a moment to realize that Fyror was speaking to her, looking around to see if Millicent had returned. "Oh, Miss Jones actually," she said nervously. "Mr. Wyndham is my step father," she explained as she clutched the items in her hand before looking down as she found herself staring at Fyror's scar. Stuffing everything in her own reticule, she hadn't meant to stare but she had.  

	As Dr. Graham righted himself Emma looked over to him. "Will mother be alright?" she asked, trying to keep from crying. 

	"Don't worry your pretty little head about this, I will tend to her," he said before motioning over to Fyror to get the other end of the glass. "Right now, let's move her cautiously to the front of Almack's. Through the ballroom please and into the main corridor."

	Emma nodded, not arguing that she should be worried because it was her mother. She was hardly as outspoken about such things as Millicent was. Granted Millicent would have been at the table and insisted on helping carry the woman herself. Emma took no such liberties. Sighing Emma waited to follow them. "Well at least some good came of this travesty of an evening though I wish it was I who could have caught the Earl's eye instead of Milli. What he sees in her I have no idea," she said trying to change the topic and get back to the usual gossip of the [i]ton[/i]. It was obvious she was still upset and on edge but she was in her own odd way trying to put on a brave front. 

	Over in the Octagon Anti-Chamber, Elizaveta knelt in front of the body and lowered her head. Giving a silent prayer for the poor man's soul but her eyes did not close, she did not want to leave herself vulnerable to an attack if it came. Lifting her head as she heard the flap of birds she looked over with her cool eyes to see that Mary had returned with another she had met earlier in the evening. A quick whistle of soft tone and the birds began to fly off. Elizaveta saw no need to keep them hovering any longer and she would need her strength if she was to perform the Ostanavlivat'sya again that evening. 

	[color=a187be]"Yes, it does indeed. Could you tvo be kind enough to see what others have perished this evening? I must perform the Ostanavlivat'sya, having them close will make things simpler for me,"[/color] she said before she was cut off from any further words as a scream rang out in the corridor. Her brow rose and her hand tightened on her swords hilt. That was until she heard the distinct sound of a large cat's roar. 

	Bounding through the front door and through the crowd was a large white tiger with blue eyes. It barreled right towards Elizaveta and placed itself between her and others around her: baring his teeth and looking as if he was about to attack. Elizaveta smiled to herself as she reached out and placed a gloved hand into his thick fur. [color=a187be]"Myska! Chto ty zdes' delayesh'?"[/color] she asked in Russian, inquiring what he was doing there. [color=a187be]"Vse normal'no. Oni druz'ya."[/color] The cat seemed to take her words well and calmed down, resting back on his hind quarters. [color=a187be]"Forgive him, he is rather protective. This is Myska, my pet,"[/color] Elizaveta explained to Mary and Virginia. 


[center][hr][h1][b][i][color=0072bc]Port Annan, Scotland - Teriny Inn[/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr][/center]

	"I agree, everything is perfect Nigel. Thank you ever so much for the wonderful meal," Calum said after a few moments of chewing and swallowing the food in his mouth. 

	"Right'O. Well once you are finished, go ahead and turn in, everything shoulds be ready for ya," Nigel said as he continued cleaning the glasses. The Parson nodded and went back to his food. He was quick to finish it and while he could have eaten another bowl or two he was trying his best to curb his gluttony for the evening. Though, truth be told, the only thing that kept him from gorging himself on even more was the thought of what wonderful delights Nigel's wife would be making in the morning. He would want an empty stomach for that. 

	Rising from his seat he looked over towards Maeve and smiled. "Well I dare say that was a wonderful way to end the evening. I will be turning in now. Do please stay in the tavern this evening, never know what type of ruffians are running about at this hour in the port. I will see you bright and early in the morrow. We have much to do before we leave town and get you to your destination good lady. Have a pleasant evening," he said before giving a slight bow to his head and retrieving his hat. 

	The man hadn't taken two steps when he turned and tumbled head over heels right over the nearest table. Thankfully it was empty of patrons and the like but he still turned it upside down as he flipped over and face planted against the floor. "God help that man..." Nigel chuckled as he choked back the full amount of laughter he wanted to let out. The sight of the rail thin man falling through the air like a sparrow caught in a hard wind was more than the old man could take. 

  
[center][hr][h1][b][i][color=0072bc]Wyndham Manor, London[/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr][/center]

	"I be leaving the door open fer ya Mr. Connolly. Miss Milli not e worried about yous up here fixin' thangs. She be right happy 'bouts it I say," Abigail said before she got back to work on getting things together for Millicent when she arrived back home that evening. Turning the bed down, Abigail waited until the Constable and Gerard left the room before scurrying over to the side of the bed and retrieving the book. She was a curious young woman and just had to see. Pulling the book from beneath the bed she plopped down on the edge of the bed and flipped it open. Seemed it was Millicent's private journal. Turning the pages to the last one she eyed it. It took her a few to actually read what was on the page. She was not good at reading but Millicent had been working with her as she did Gerard. 

	[color=0072bc][i]March 21st, 1823
		I dare say this day is turning out to be more than I can bare. Mother is bit and determined that I should marry Lord Rutherford. Time is coming where they will declare father lost and by extension dead in the eyes of the law. She knows she will inherit little from this, that father has always made arrangements that I should inherit everything he and my true mother amassed during their life together. She will be taken care of but not in the way she is accustomed to now, I will not let her squander away fathers fortune. Yet if I marry, my properties will go to my husband. I know not what she is planning but she is pushing Lord Rutherford now on me like she has never pressed before. 

	The man is vile. I do not wish this. I have heard the rumors but the ton is full of those yet something about these worry me. His last wife's death holds the stench of more than just simple death. I must look into this but alas not this evening. I dread going to Almack's. It will only give mother more fuel. I wonder what tricks she has up her sleeve. I may have no choice in the matter. IF I do not, she has sworn to have Emma or Jane marry him. They cannot protect themselves against a house fly much less someone like Rutherford. He is trained but I wonder where it was. None of his style seems to match others I have met in the past. 

	Why cannot life be simpler? I look over at such sweet smelling flowers that were given to me this day by Mr. Connolly. I would be happy to marry one like him. He is so kind yet I know I should not aim so high. No man would wish to be associated with the likes of my step mother... least be it to have her as his inlaw. Would be quite intolerable. Yet I would give up my fortune just to live happily in a green pasture surrounded by one like him and tending to sheep."[/i][/color]

	The entry left off there. Abigail closed the book and set it back where she had gotten it. "Well, that old coot just be stirring up trouble. What be wrong with Miss Milli being with Mr. Connolly? They make a right good match in me eye. He be right kind to her and well I see the way she look at him," she said to herself as she got back to turning down the bed and readying Millicent's sleep wear. "Mr. Wyndham, you needs to be getting' back here ya do. Miss Milli need ya," she added as she looked at the drawing of him with Catherine and a young Millicent. If he were here, things would be different. 

	Down in the study Constable Smith looked around at the mess. Things had been turned over, drawers had been emptied only to have their contents tossed here and there on the floor. "You say nothing was taken?" he asked half mindedly as he was careful not to step on anything that was laying on the floor. 

	"With Mr. Wyndham gone, who sees to the dailies and the businesses?" he asks as he picks up a paper and looks it over. That was a commonly known factor in the house but not something usually spoken about outside. Millicent had been raised to look over things for him. Mrs. Wyndham had no head for numbers and only knew how to spend money, not to make it. If it was left up to her the staff wouldn't receive their pay. Yet night after night Millicent burned the midnight oil, keeping up with the books and ensuring that all in her fathers employment were paid for their services. She had even put into effect a raise for each member of the Manor's staff this past winter as a Christmas present. Something she had not told Mrs. Wyndham, she knew it would not go over well but she felt the staff deserved more pay due to having to put up with the woman. 

	It was a time before the Constable had seen all what he felt he could see and it was about that time that Abigail came into the room. "Is there anything's I can be gettin' yous two?" she asked. The constable shook his head. 

	"No, thank you. I think I am done here. I must go file the report. If you do find anything missing, please do report it post haste. You may tidy up now," he said kindly before looking over at Gerard. "Yer Miss seem like a right good woman, keep her safe."