1. Her footfallswere soft,barelyaudiblebeneaththe numbingsleetthatslaythe surroundingstreets
and buildings;drownedoutfurtherbythe occasional carriage wheelsandhorse hoovespelting
againstthe sand embeddedcobblestones.Itwasa bitter coldnessthatfell uponLondonthis
evening,anditcame not onlyfromthe miserable weather.Itemanatedfromsomethingsoinnocent
and fragile lookingasa delicatelybuiltyoungwoman,dressedinfinerythatindicatedconsiderable
wealth,strikinginappearance whenconsideredagainstthe darkening,rivermisteddrearinessof her
surroundings.
Duringparticulartimesinherlife,thissortof behaviour,(thatbeing,strollingunchaperonedthrough
the streetsafterdark) had beenunequivocallyforbidden, butwell,thathadnotalwaysprevented
herfrom covertlyindulginginitanyway,andnow…now whowasgoingtoreprimandherfor it?
No one.Thatwas who.Noone.
Whichbringsus to the matter at handonce again,the bittericinessof thisseeminglybenignyoung
woman,whohad cravedso much,to shedthe properetiquette expectedof her,breakall the rules
and justrevel inthe freedomof herrebelliousantics,andyetyearnedalso,forthe approval and
affectionof those masculineauthoritiesthatonce laiddownthose lawsshe'dabidedby.(Whenthey
were observingheranyway!)
Her newfoundfreedomdidn'tfeel like freedomatall.What itfeltlike,wasawretched
abandonment.The notionthatshe couldhave beensocherishedandpreciousone day,andthe n
thoughtlesslydiscardedthe next…
Oh,at first,she hadbeenstunnedandconfused,thenthe sorrow andself-pitycame.Herlamentso
profoundthatit appearedfathomlessasshe drownedinit.
Agonized,she hadleftcastle Teufelmont,(Whichshe alwaysconsideredslightlyvulgardespite its
lavish,opulent,décor) andreturnedhome,toLondon,toher father’sestate towhichshe still,after
all these years,carrieda key.
The estate lookedexactlyhowshe feltwhenshe arrivedthere.Neglected,abandoned,rundown;
but she entereditanyway,if notforanythingmore thanjustsimplytobe amonghisthings,tofind
somethingthatsmelledof him,tocarry withherand remindherselfalways,of him.
Andit wasthat thing,that very,simple,small thing…notquite atrinket,butbeautiful andgleaming
inher eyesnonetheless,thathadsnappedheroutof her melancholyasrapidlyasshe hadsunkinto
it.
Andnowthe coldwasn'tthe onlythingbitingather....
She had herkeepsake withhernow,clutchedtightly inherlittlefistasshe enteredthe Northtower
and beganclimbingthe seeminglyendlessamountof stairsthatwouldinevitablyleadhertothe top
of the towerbridge.
It was a slightrelieftobe temporarilyoutof the weather,though,bynow,she was drenchedand
probablyappearedrathersadand pathetic;perhapsanyone whosaw hermightthinkshe were
intendingtojump,orhad losthermarblesinpursuitof a spectacularview of the riverThames
duringan inopportune moment.
But that wasn'ther intentionatall.