Chapter One

My Lady

"Hear ye, hear ye!" The town's trouble-making zoilist rings his imaginary bell at me. "It seems that Tom has come to kick us back in the gutter!"

I pay the young man no attention. His words are false and his accusations are dull. He and his gang of equally dim-witted mischiefs chortle amongst themselves.

"What's the matter, Tom? Got no lady friends to impress?" One of the others taunts me as I pass them by.

The feeble-minded leader snatches my arm, pulling me toward him. "Hey! We weren't done talking with you."

"Ezra Jones!" My governess finally snaps, turning on her heel to face him. "That is no way to address a Baroness. Leave her be and act like a proper gentlemen."

"Fine then, you're right. I wasn't done talking to you, Lady Tom." Ezra and his lads snigger as he jeers down at me. "You've got some nerve coming into my side of town dressed as tastelessly as you always do. I thought I told you to never wear trousers outside again."

I give the brown-eyed scoundrel the most blasé look I can possibly care to muster. His freckled face contorts into a sinister smile.

"Yet you defy my direct order. It seems as though you are asking for trouble." Ezra's followers nod fervently in agreement. "You and your nanny will deeply regret coming out today, because now I-"

"Are you finished?" I rudely cut the arrogant fellow off. He seems shocked at my arbitrary timing.

"Uh, well-" Ezra starts.

"That's what I thought." I sigh. Swiftly, I take hold of his lingering hand and jab him in the nose with my left fist. The action sends the fool barreling backward into his lot of accomplices and his boyish black fiddler cap rolling into the middle of the desolate street. "I wore my slacks today because I wished to. I took your recommendation from our last encounter into consideration when I was dressing, but have obviously elected to ignore it."

"Blazes! I think you broke my nose!" the stupid rascal curses.

"And I couldn't be any more apathetic about it." I brush off the black sleeve of my shirt with my hand.

"I'll report you to the police!" Ezra wipes the red snot from his nose as his hateful eyes attempt to bore into my soul. He obviously has no idea that he is out of his depths.

"And tell them what, exactly? That a Baroness punched your face in?" I ask with a lack of interest. It was apparent from the time he decided to approach me that I was going to win this fight. It amazes me that Ezra is still too blind to see this.

"Then I'll go to the Reverend and tell him that you're a tomboy endorser."

"Pastor John is a close friend of mine who will see right through your false allegation, so go ahead and make a fool of yourself. Now please, you're wasting our time. We have more important matters to attend to." I turn away from the band of idiots.

"Like what?" Ezra scoffs.

"I do believe it's called anything but you." I call over my shoulder as we walk away: "And the name is Lady Syrena, not Tom."

My governess continues to walk alongside me as the unintelligent dastard continues to hurl unintelligent remarks at us. Eventually, the growing distance drowns out the bellowing of the hot-headed imbecile which allows for a gratifying silence to embrace us. I turn my head to catch a glimpse of my foreign governess. The sun, although partially veiled by grey clouds, brings out the colour of pyrite in her complexion, which otherwise appears porcelain indoors. Her unique, umber, heavy-lidded eyes meet my green ones. She sighs in disappointment as she scratches the back of her head. "That is the third time this month that you've been approached by Ezra."

"There's really not much we can do besides move away, unless my father decides to show up and do something about it." I roll my eyes to myself. "And while he's at it, I'd love to meet him."

"Syrena." My governess' tone cautions me not to further insult my father.

"I know, Ayaka, I shouldn't speak of a Colonel and Baron in that manner. I'm sorry." I walk ahead of my governess to open the door to the library for her. "But his title doesn't make up for the fact that he has never even bothered to meet his only child."

"I am aware that his behaviour is cold and unusual, but I assure you that he does want what is best for you," Ayaka restates what she has been telling me for the past fifteen years. I do not bother to argue with her; it never gets anywhere anyway.

A few days after I was born, my mother had died and Ayaka stepped in to take care of me. The day of my mother's funeral was the day my father decided to join the British army and fight in the Third Anglo-Maratha War in India. Since that only lasted from 1817 to 1818, he then fought in the First Anglo-Ashanti War in Africa from 1823 to 1831. For the five years in between the two wars, my father managed to avoid coming home by staying put in India "just in case any trouble arose". Now that it is 1832, he has been back for the past several months getting involved in the Great Reform Act, which is not a war, but riots are a threat to the House of Commons, so he ensures that no trouble arises; the same excuse he used to stay away from me in India. Ayaka tells me that my father staying put at the House of Commons is a good thing, but I could honestly care less about politics. The thing is, he has had a decent excuse for being away my whole life, but now there are no wars to fight, and thus no more excuses. Because of the Reform Act, my father is here in the United Kingdom and has been ever since the last war ended. The truth is that he does not want to meet me and Ayaka just cannot seem to bring herself to say it.

"Lord Jacques was a kind man with great ambition. Your mother's death drove him into a depression, and so he joined the military to rediscover his purpose in life," Ayaka recites the story. My governess was a close friend to my mother and father before they both left me. It seems like she knew my father to be a different man than he is now, but she will only give me limited details of both him and my mother. It does not seem fair for her to withhold information about my own parents from me, but perhaps she was instructed to do so by my father.

We sit down at a small table with four chairs around it. Ayaka slides a blackboard to me along with some chalk. She dusts her hands off and straightens her cobalt blue jacket as she speaks. "Review the Pythagorean Theorem while I pick out a book for your next English study."

Ayaka wanders away to the feeble man with glasses at the front desk. He puts down his book and addresses her with a nod. "How may I assist you today?"

"I'm here to sign out a book under Lady Syrena Freemen's name. I need one that requires a reader with a higher education…" Ayaka's voice trails on as I turn my attention away from her. No doubt there will be a disagreement between the two. In this era there is no reason for someone like me, a woman, to have the knowledge of a university student, and it is supposed to be impossible for anyone but a professor to have taught me what I know. What no one will ever seem to understand is that Ayaka is not a common governess; she was born and raised in Japan. Her father was a mathematician, a philosopher, and one who took great interest in martial arts and swordplay. He passed his knowledge down to Ayaka who, in turn, did the same to me. As a result I will never receive praise or credit for it. Women are supposed to be delicate and ignorant; two things that come so naturally to me. Not.

"Back so soon?" I give my governess a half-hearted smile as she takes a seat across from me with a frustrated sigh. She drops a small book in front of me with the title The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. I cock an eyebrow. "This hardly seems like it will be intellectually stimulating."

"That's what I told the librarian. I specifically asked for A Preliminary Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy, but according to him, only men of a higher class can sign it out. 'I believe this is more in her area of expertise. Let me know if she has any trouble understanding it.' That is what he told me before walking away." Ayaka scowls in the direction of the man before letting her grudge against him go. Ayaka is a woman of class and integrity and will never allow petty things like grudges to build up within her, unlike me. Perhaps this is why she still has respect for my father.

"I don't see how we can continue living here without drowning in misery." I tap my chalk on the blackboard and stare longingly out the window. "I want to learn. I want to talk about the secrets of the universe, the depths of the mind and the soul, and I want to discuss what happens before we are born and after we die. It's not my fault that I can't maintain small talk and woo men with a weak mind."

"I know Syrena. You are meant to live an ambitious and fulfilling life, not a drab one." Ayaka sighs heavily. "Never believe for one moment that I don't wish for Lord Jacques to come back from the House of Commons and give you the life you deserve. You are entitled to so much more than what this town has to offer you."

I blink in confusion. Did I really hear her correctly? What life am I supposed to be living if it is not this one?

"What do you mean by that?" I ask. Ayaka hesitates, debating whether or not she should actually answer me.

"Well, your parents never intended to stay here once you were born. The plan was that you were supposed to immediately return to-"Ayaka is cut off and my question is soon forgotten when the door to the library is thrown open. Our attention is turned to a boy with red hair who is drenched from head to toe in rain water.

"Excuse me, Roland, but what on earth do you think you're doing?" The librarian rises up from behind his desk, utterly annoyed. "Your behaviour is preposterous and you must leave at once!"

"Is Lady Syrena Freemen here?" The town's messenger asks with alarm as he gasps for air.

"I said that I wish for you to leave-" the librarian starts.

"I am here, Roland. What do you have to tell me?" I stand up so he can see me.

"My Lady," the messenger boy looks at me stricken with grief.

"No, no, no!" The librarian stands in little Roland's way and directs him to the door. "I will not have you shouting across the room like a bunch of barbarians. Now take this discussion elsewhere."

Ayaka and I gather our things and walk toward the door. I glare at the old librarian as we pass him by. If I was unaccompanied, I would most definitely exchange some choice words with him.

"Syrena." Ayaka stops me before I exit the building. She scratches the back of her head; something I know she does when she is nervous. "I want to assure you that whatever the news is, your father can handle it. Everything will be alright."

In the past we had received news about powerful enemies my father had made in the various wars being spotted in the surrounding cities, attempting to find and destroy my father and his offspring. Ayaka always said that my father would take care of it, and he always proved her right in saying so. Yet, for some unknown reason, I cannot help but think that Ayaka might be wrong this time. Nevertheless, I push open the door and step out into the unwelcoming rain. Roland holds an umbrella over me to shield me from the rain.

"Thank you, Roland, but please keep yourself and my governess dry; I quite enjoy the rain." I smile politely. The red-headed lad quickly follows my request.

"Thank you." Ayaka bows her head slightly, grateful for his kindness.

"What do you have to tell me?" I ask him again, trying to look for the answer in his hazel eyes before he can even speak.

"I beg your pardon, my Lady…" Roland takes off his hat with his free hand and dips his head. He pauses for quite a bit of time before he can seem to find the words to say. "I'm sorry; I wish that I could change the message to sound warmer. But I regret to inform you that…" Roland pauses and shakes his head again. "I'm so sorry."

The rain begins to pour down harder as the silence conjures a great tension to fill the air around us. Ayaka holds her breath in anticipation as Roland shifts in his spot. Although he has never been good at delivering bad news, Roland's behaviour and hesitance has already revealed to me what the news is.

"So it appears that you were incorrect, Ayaka." I exhale deeply, the warmth of my breath causing a cloud of steam to form. "My father will not be able to handle this."

"Why?" Ayaka turns to Roland. "What is the message?"

Roland inhales sharply before he finally delivers the news: "I regret to inform you that Colonel Lord Jacques Freemen has been murdered."