OMG!!!! I am SO angry with myself! I said I'd try to post earlier, and instead I take longer than ever due to unforseen circumstances. ARRRGGGGHHHH! I'm so sorry!

But I know that what you really want is the story, so I'm just going to quit blathering and get on with it. Hopefully, these chapters will be worth your wait. :) Much thanks again to Mimzy and cassiopoeia for their reviews!

Not a word was said. Nothing needed to be said. Focused on finding out the reason for all this fuss, Emma Winthrop had immediately started toward the crowds and the flashes, motioning for Meghan and Faye to follow. They did.

Shopping bags bounced as they shuffled along. Meghan lagged behind the most, for it was hard for her to run in those hard black shoes. Many other people were running, too, and she was almost separated from Faye and her mother. The cobblestone ground sure wasn't making things any easier. Meghan came close to tripping and spilling newly purchased merchandise all over the area.

Eventually, all three of them were able to make it to where the bulk of the people had gathered. The crowd was dense, and very pushy. Cameras were the source of the flashes, but neither Meghan nor the Winthrops could see what it was that was being photographed. Too many people were in the way.

Emma tried to stand taller and peek over the others' heads, but to no avail. Energetic Faye jumped up a few times, and seemed to be having even worse luck than her mother. Poor Meghan just tried to stay close, and was becoming more and more nervous and anxious as even more people joined the crowd, closing her in.

How unfortunate it was that she had to be snapped out of her sweet reverie of shopping and tea and loveliness, only to be engulfed into this boisterous mess of reporters, photographers, and antsy citizens. Meghan was quickly becoming irritated.

What, is Oprah here or something?

Suddenly, the noise seemed to come down. Though the camera flashes never ceased, the crowd became more still, and Meghan felt a bit of relief. Faye and her mother, however, were not satisfied with their current positions. They pushed their way deeper into the crowd. After some hesitation, Meghan followed.

As she herself pushed through, she looked for the people she'd come with. They were nowhere in sight.

Meghan was beginning to panic.

Quickly, she picked a direction and pushed on further. She stumbled through the mass of curious people, repeating the same phrases over and over.

"Excuse me, sorry, oh, excuse me, I'm sorry, pardon me..."

With each step she took, Meghan felt more uneasy. She heard someone begin to speak. A speech. That's what these people had gathered to hear. Oh, happy politics! Politics had gotten her lost in this mess. She was not amused.

At last, after much pushing and shoving and bumping, Meghan saw another Jasperstone uniform, and some blonde Dorothy-style braids. Apparently, the relentless Faye and her fire-headed mother had made it all the way to the front of the crowd, and they looked quite contented to be there.

Meghan let out her breath, which she'd been holding, and her anxiety along with it. All she had to do now was listen to this boring speech that she was sure would probably make no sense to her whatsoever, and then, they could get back to their shopping. She pushed through to stand beside Faye.

"There you are!" Faye said in a low voice, somehow still in a sing-songy way. "We were afraid we'd lost you!"

Meghan straightened out her clothes, and readjusted the bags on her wrists. Amazingly, she had been able to squeeze through despite the bulkiness of her packages, and hadn't lost even one little trinket. Quite an accomplishment for a girl who'd had almost no idea what she was doing.

"Yes, Faye, I found you." she said, still looking at her jacket as she adjusted it. "But I would've never gotten lost if you hadn't - "

She looked up, and her breath caught stone cold in her throat.

"If I hadn't what?" Faye asked.

But Meghan didn't hear her. Meghan couldn't hear anyone but what she thought had just been some stuffy blowhard making a speech. But no...no, it wasn't some stuffy blowhard...

"Meghan?"

She couldn't believe it. She was staring straight into those eyes...Daphne's eyes...

"Meghan Reynolds, you answer me this instant!"

It wasn't television, or photographs, or stories - this was real life. It was him.

It took snapping her finger in front of my face for Faye to get my attention. Man, I had really zoned out there for a second.

Thing is, though - now I know what Aunt Libby felt.

Faye was still pressing me on whatever I'd said earlier. I told her never mind, since I really couldn't remember what it was anyway. I then presented her with a new question.

"Faye...w-what's going on?"

She looked at me like I was dense.

"Why, Lord Dashwood is making a speech, that's what's going on!"

Thank you, mistress of all that is obvious.

"Why is he making a speech, Faye?"

Faye looked indifferent.

"He's running for office this upcoming year."

"Office?"

"Office."

Well, if that wasn't interesting. Funny, Daphne always was good in Speech & Debate class at our school. She once took down Kianna Dawson in a rousing debate over appropriate skirt lengths on campus. She had answered one question by saying, "Free at last, free at last, thanks to miniskirts, we are free at last!". Ah, good times, good times.

I hadn't noticed it before, but the brown-haired man wasn't alone at the podium. He was surrounded by four people. Nearest to him was a rather conservative-looking woman, flashing a smile that looked kind of phony to me. Next to her stood some bald-headed weirdo that kind of looked like Shakespeare's evil twin (no insult to Shakespeare intended). He was downright creepy. On the other side of the podium, a few feet away, another woman with graying blonde hair stood. She looked very distinguished and regal, as well as gracefully aged.

Seeing the fourth person almost made me lose high tea. I am not even kidding. It pains me to even mention it.

Yes, friends, it was my great misfortune to find that the person standing near the dignified-looking woman was none other than Clarissa Payne. All decked out in tweed and everything. I was stunned out of my hard black shoes.

"W-what's she doing here?!" I demanded of Faye. Before she could answer, I had the most disturbing, most horrible thought you could ever imagine. My stomach lurched. "Oh, no...no...Faye, PLEASE tell me she's not..."

Faye half-chuckled.

"No, Meghan, she's not his daughter. He doesn't have any children."

Wanna bet? I thought.

"The sad thing, though," Faye went on, "is that she will be his daughter soon. Or, well, stepdaughter. He's getting married."

How many times in one day must I feel like my soul is plunging?

"M-married?"

"That's correct. It will be his first."

How unfortunate, how awful, how heartbreaking it was that after seventeen long, lonely years, the man still hadn't married - but that he was picking now to do it.

"Wh-who's the lucky woman?" I stammered, my throat knotting up as I held back tears.

"That's her right there." Faye replied, pointing to the conservative woman. "Her name is Glynnis."

I stared at the phony face that had replaced my aunt. My wonderful aunt, who I loved and respected so very much. She deserved to be standing there, with Daphne at her side. But instead, there was this high-and-mighty oppressor who thought she owned the world. That face was nothing short of gruesome to me.

"It's too bad, really." Faye commented. "He's such a decent man. He doesn't deserve to have a daughter like Clarissa. She's a witch, and all of London knows it. And personally, I have my theories on her mother as well."

I guess it was kind of wishing too much to think that my aunt's true love would hold her in his arms and be together once again. But you would still hold out that hope, you know? And to find out once and for all that it really was too late, that the love was lost forever - it was a little too much for me to take. I couldn't stare at that face anymore.

"Faye." I said. "Please, can we go?"

She turned to me. I guess she noticed the anguish in my face, for she motioned for her mother to leave, and she complied. The three of us made our way back into the crowd.

For a moment, I had a feeling that someone was watching me. But the last thing I wanted to do was look back.