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"What's in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet."


Chapter One:

The car pulled up in the driveway, the chalet stepping out to open the door for her. Despite her protests that she was perfectly capable of driving herself, her maid had insisted that such a thing was just not proper. She may have gained wealth and independence, but she was still restricted to what was 'proper'.

Hurrying inside to the warmth, as though the weather may have been heating up, but it was still brisk at nighttime. Judging by the amount of people in the ballroom, she had to have arrived in the middle of the crowd. Her grandmother had always told her to arrive fashionably late, but she found this to be an obnoxious practice. Besides, she would practically been unknown at this event. Certainly a rarity for her.

"Evelyn," Grace called out, walking closer to her, "I'm so glad you made it."

The woman was dressed to impress, but the centrepiece of the outfit, was the blue sapphire necklace. It was beautiful, most definitely expensive, and Evelyn was sure she recognised it.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Especially considering I couldn't make it to your wedding." She replied, "Anyway, I always need an excuse to get out of the house."

"Well, you know, you're always welcome here." Grace said, her eyes moving to search around the room, "Tommy's around here somewhere."

"Oh, that's fine." Evelyn assured her, the pair being interrupted by a guest calling out to Grace, "I'm sure you need to continue your duties as hostess. I should probably go and mingle."

If she was being honest with herself, she was glad Grace's husband was nowhere to be found. There was something about Tommy Shelby that unnerved her, even though they'd only spoken a handful of times in the past few months. But it was the same thing she was sure made him so attractive to others. An air of mystery, and hint of danger. Probably more than a hint really.

Making her way over to the refreshments, she poured herself a glass, taking a sip. There was nobody in the room she recognised, and she was glad for it. Then no one could read into her choice of clothing.

The dress was white, complimenting her olive skin and dark hair. It was the first time she hadn't worn mourning clothes out in public. The appropriate time had passed, and it was now seen as acceptable to return to normality.

Looking around the room, she caught the eye of a young man across the room. Neither looked away, as would be proper. Ladies didn't make prolong eye contact with men. Especially in public places.

He was around medium height, not overly muscular but far from skinny, with light fair and what she thought to be blue eyes. Excusing himself from his current conversation, he sifted his way through the crowd towards her. Averting her eyes, she pretended not notice him approach.

"I must say that's a lovely dress." The man said, "Almost as beautiful as the woman who's wearing it."

"The flattery is much appreciated." Evelyn said, "Did you spend all that time over there eyeing up, just to come up with that doozy of line?" She asked, smirking at him

"Most would just take the compliment." He said, but he was clearly impressed by her confidence

"I'm not like most." She retorted

"I can see that." He noted, "I'm Michael," he told her, extending his hand to her, "What's your name?"

"Evelyn." She replied, holding his hand slightly longer than was appropriate

"No last name?"

"You didn't give me yours." She pointed out, "I'm rather a fan of equality."

"Gray."

She took a moment to think of her answer before speaking, "Ryder." She conceded, "So, are you simply an invitee, or do you know the Shelby's personally?"

"My mother's a Shelby." Michael answered, "You?"

"Recent friend of Grace's." She said, "I really just wanted to come and see the house. Maybe steal some precious jewels while I'm here. The usual stuff."

Michael chuckled, before growing concerned, "That was a joke right?"

"You'll find out tomorrow," She said, "If I've absconded with precious items never to be seen again."

"I wouldn't enjoy that."

"Why?"

"Because," he said, leaning forward, "I would very much like to see you again."

Unfortunately for them, they were interrupted by a woman Evelyn was familiar with, but actively disliked. Evelyn had met the Russiam Duchess at an event only a few months prior, and was instantly turned off by her haughty nature. She was proud for an aristocrat, and that was saying something.

"Oh, Evelyn, it's so nice to see you again." Tatiana said, and Evelyn painted a fake smile on her face, "And no longer in black I see. Mourning clothes are such horrid things aren't they."

"Yes, they are." Evelyn said, "What are you doing here?"

"Being charitable of course." Tatiana said, "I'm sure more people will come to the next event, seeing that a Duchess and a Marchioness attended this one." She revealed, causing Michael's eyebrows to go up in surprise, "Oh, does your date not know you are nobility?"

"It was really lovely seeing you again." Evelyn said, "Truly."

"Well, I'm sure this will not be the last time." Tatiana said, nodding towards them before departing

She, too, was sure they would see one another again. For, the world was not kind enough to allow her to never see Tatiana again.

Turning back to Michael, she was dismayed by his disappointment. One night of anonymity was all she asked for. But it was not to be.

"I'm sorry about her, she's," Evelyn said, searching for the appropriate word, "I think pestilential is the correct term to use."

"So, you're a, Marchioness?" Michael asked, "What are you doing here then?"

"Being charitable."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Guess I just didn't want you to start sucking up to me because of it." Evelyn said, "God forbid someone actually like me regardless of my station."

"Sorry," Michael mumbled,

She was about to assure him that no offence was taken, but her attention was drawn away by a shout from the crowd, and the sound of a gunshot ringing out.

Chaos ensued, the crowd frantically rushing towards the exit, to escape the danger. One would surely have expected her to join them, but she didn't, not when she saw who had been shot.

Pushing away from Michael, she practically fell down onto her knees beside her injured friend. Scrunching up her shawl she pressed it against Grace's shoulder, soaking up the blood. But it was too late. She was gone.

"Come on," Michael said, pulling her up to her feet, "We need to go."

Evelyn didn't protest as he lead her away from the carnage. The rest of the guests were fleeing, or had already fled. Looking down at her hands that were now covered in blood. She frantically begun to wipe it off of her dress, but Michael grabbed her hands to stop her.

"Are you okay?" He asked, and she nodded, "You sure."

"I'm, I'm fine." She mumbled, looking back towards the house, "Grace is, she's,"

"Are you hurt?" He asked, drawing her attention back to the present

"No." She responded, "Are you?"

"I'm fine." He replied, seeming genuinely surprised that she was focused on his wellbeing whilst under such stress,

"My Lady," her chalet, called out to her, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Mr Jones."

"Get the car," Michael ordered, "Take her home."

Mr Jones ran off, leaving the pair of them alone. Evelyn was shaking, and she knew it wasn't from the cold. Gripping her arms, her eyes boring holes into the ground. Her stare was only broken when she felt something around her shoulders, and looked up to see Michael wrapping his coat around her.

"Thank you." She muttered,

Michael opened his mouth, but before he could reply, a woman ran towards them, screaming out his name.

"Oh, Michael," she said, pulling him into a hug, "Are you okay?"

"I'm alright mum." Michael assured her

"Who's that?" His mother asked, looking towards Evelyn

"Her name's Evelyn, she's a guest," Michael explained, "Is everyone else okay?"

"Yes. It was just Grace."

"And the shooter?"

The woman eyed up Evelyn, clearly not eager to say anything in front of the girl who was practically a stranger. "Come inside," the woman said, "The family needs you."

But Michael ignored the request, turning back to Evelyn, "Will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine." She replied, as her car pulled up beside them, "It was, ah, I'm sorry for your loss."

Turning away, she didn't wait for her door to be opened to climb into the car. As they drove away, she simply stared in front of her. Grace was dead. She had just watched her friend be murdered. What kind of family was this?