The farmhouse was small, but cozy and familiar. Diego had checked on the young mother regularly since her husband had left on important family business. Ricardo's father lay dying in Mexico City, so he'd left his young wife, Theresa, and their infant daughter in the house alone. But not before asking the de la Vegas to watch over his loved ones.

Diego took the responsibility seriously checking in once a day to make sure the family was well. Victoria usually came with him, but this morning she hadn't been anywhere to be found. He rode toward the farmhouse. Theresa was hanging her wash out and singing to the baby in a basket nearby.

"Don Diego," she said when she saw him. "Buenos dias!"

"Good morning, Theresa," he said. "How is the little one?" He wasn't staying long and didn't bother to dismount, and she didn't stop hanging her wash. They had settled into a routine long ago.

"She's blooming today," Theresa answered, and the baby giggled as if in agreement. "And so was your wife, earlier this morning."

"She was here?" he asked and started to look toward the pueblo as if he could see her.

"Yes, Don Diego, hours ago" Theresa's smile was sly. "I guess you slept in?"

Diego frowned, "Yes, I guess I did. Have a lovely day, Senora." After tipping his head in her direction he headed toward the pueblo.

Victoria was still angry. He should probably leave her be for now, but he couldn't stop himself. He had to make things right between them. He headed for the tavern.

Senora Moreno had settled herself and her daughter in the room that Victoria had shown them. The girl was especially quiet and well behaved. Victoria mused it must be being raised in a convent that had caused it. Well, that and the girl's mother was veritably military in her fastidiousness. She was perhaps the most exacting woman Victoria had ever met.

She didn't know what to make of the woman. When she'd spoken of her late husband she seemed broken and delicate, but at times there was an iron will about her that almost scared Victoria.

Business began to trickle in for the day and Victoria could at last enjoy the mindlessness that could only come with day to day work. It should have annoyed her, but this calmed her. It was her bit of familiarity in a life that was otherwise changing every day. And then Diego walked in her door.

It was a quiet evening for the Anderton family. There was no theater or soiree to attend. All the balls and card parties were later in the week. Finally, Pip could breathe again.

Grace sat on "her" settee with her fashion magazines periodically sighing that "there was nothing to DO," as her mother clucked in agreement.

Mr. Anderton was describing his latest specimen for his oldest daughter to take down for his report to his amateur naturalist club that met each month and Charlie and Felipe played cards in the corner.

Pip was content, well truthfully she'd rather be playing cards with her brother and his friend, but she'd much rather be taking notes for her father than dancing with some stuffy lord.

Pip's mother seemed to have second sight, for she took just that moment to say, "Mr. Anderton, Lord Knowles was quite taken with our young Phillipa the other night." She smiled at her daughter in congratulation.

Pip rolled her eyes, and looked toward her brother, but somehow met his friend's eyes instead. When she realized her mistake she looked down at her notes.

Her father only grunted, and continued to discuss his theory on the locomotion of the fossil he had been studying.

Pip's mother frowned and tried again, "They say this year he's determined to find a bride."

"Who says?" Charlie asked.

"Everyone does," was the angry reply.

Charlie chuckled, and went back to his cards. His interest only seemed to extend insofar as he could anger his mother. He had and now that game was over.

"And I think Phillipa…" his mother tried to continue.

"What? Someone marry my Pip?" Mr. Anderton looked confused like he'd never thought of the idea. He looked at his daughter. "You aren't ready to get married my girl, are you?"

"Well, not yet, Papa, but maybe soon," she said.

He sat back like he'd received some surprising news, "Well, I'll think about it."

"Not anytime soon!" Pip answered anxiously, with the look on her father's face he'd have the whole thing decided and her engagement arranged by the end of the week. He was like that. He'd set himself a task and finish it, check it off his list, but she wasn't ready for that.

"Alright," he said. He rose and kissed his daughter on the top of the head. "Let me know when you want me to think about it."

And just like that he went back to seat and continued his observations. Pip smiled. He was such a simple man, she loved that about him, but she heard her mother harrumph.

London was the same horrible city it had been the last time Fitz had been there. He could barely breathe the heavy air and every shadow was a potential danger. He'd rather be in the thick of battle than walking these wretched streets again. At least on a battlefield it was clear who one's enemy was.

He'd reached the city sometime in the afternoon, seen Claire to her door, and then the awkward conversation with Lady Lilly.

She looked at him like she was drowning and he was a floating log. He just shook his head to indicate that he hadn't seen him, and when her face fell he could have hit his old friend.

Indeed, he fully intended to as soon as he found the bastard. He was almost certain where he'd be, the place where he'd taken Fitz before. Wright's home and his torment, and searching in the night, Fitz saw him walking out of the pub.

Fitzgerald wouldn't approach him yet, he'd promised Lady Lilly.

"Just bring me to him, I beg you. If only I could talk to him, he'd come back to me, I know it!"

How could he ignore her plea, and spook the quarry? So he watched his friend head out into the night and followed to discover his hiding place.