Chapter One:
Kathryn…She sat at her desk, serenely writing her manuscript when she heard the noise. Her pen stopped scratching against the paper she had so earnestly saved and she listened intently. Hearing nothing, she returned to her dear project and continued.
She looked across the castle gardens and saw him enter, returning from—
She heard it again. That same strange noise. She set her pen down and slowly stood, looking around her room once more. It was a modest room, hardly large enough for her writing desk, the smallest wardrobe ever imagined, a table for her basin, towel and porcelain ewer, and her tiny bed. It was the bed she noticed that was strange. She was alone, and yet, the sheets and bed cover were wrinkled as though someone was sitting there. She licked her dry lips and slowly crossed from her desk to the bed.
"Do you do that unconsciously," a voice—a man's voice asked, "or do you do that to entice me?"
She couldn't see anyone in the room with her, and she was getting nervous. "Who's there?" she softly asked, aiming the question towards the bed.
But the answer came whispered in her ear. "I'm hurt you don't remember me, darling," he said.
"Darling?" she breathed. There were only two men in her acquaintance who were allowed to call her that—her father and her best friend, neither of which she believed alive. "Who are you?" Her fear was rising with each second that passed.
"You truly don't know me," he said, lightly tracing his fingers along her exposed neck. "Do you, Kathryn?"
She felt herself go weak at the knees. Losing her balance, she whispered, "Skinner? Rodney Skinner?"
"The same, love," he answered, catching her around the waist so she wouldn't fall. "I've missed you."
"What are you doing here?" Kathryn asked, feeling his arms snake around her and the fabric of her skirt shift under his hands. He was her best friend whom she believed so readily was dead, and yet, he was there, holding her, and completely invisible. "Why I can't see you?"
"Well, I'm glad you asked, love," he said, chuckling. His arms slipped away from Kathryn's waist, and she felt him step away from her. "You remember a few years ago, a brilliant scientist—albeit slightly misguided—discovered the means to become invisible," he explained, taking her hand in his, and holding it lightly.
"I remember," she replied, feeling gooseflesh rise on her arm for a reason unknown to her. "But he died."
"Yes, he died—at your hand, if I'm not mistaken," he said, his hand lightly travelling up her arm. "But his process didn't. I stole it, and here I stand for the world to see."
"Or not see," Kathryn said bluntly, pulling away from him. She pulled her sleeve down to her elbow from where he had pushed it up to her shoulder. Buttoning her collar back up to cover her throat, she said, "Why are you here?"
She heard him sigh. "Kathryn," he started. "I've been sent as an envoy from Her Majesty's Royal Government."
"Is that so?" she asked, hoping for a light, casual tone. "And what would your purpose be in coming here?"
"The Queen is willing to offer you amnesty for your past crimes, if you are willing to join with me and work for the betterment of British society," he said, acquiring a slightly formal tone.
"Amnesty," she repeated. "How do I know you won't immediately arrest me?"
"How do I know you won't run me through when my back is turned?" he countered.
"You're my best friend, Skinner!" she said, affronted that he would suggest that she would kill him at her first opportune moment.
"And you're mine," he said, gripping her shoulders tightly. "Believe me, Kathryn, if you cooperate with me, and my comrades, you will be pardoned. You could go home."
"Home," she said dryly. "Home is where the heart is for some. For me, home is where I can write in peace… But I have been missing Baker Street. The troubles that seek its consolation is as sweet to me as a rare wine… Can I trust you? You disappeared and left me thinking you were dead!"
"I'm not proud of what I did," he said. "You can only trust me now. I swear I won't leave you like that again." She felt him take her left wrist in hand. He closed her fingers into a fist, then extended her smallest finger. Then she felt him hook his smallest finger with hers. "I swear like when we were children."
Kathryn saw her hand rise a little and she heard a little noise. He had sealed his promise. "And in return, you would like me to swear to cooperate with you?" she asked.
"If you please," he said, hopefully. "Please, Kathryn, we need your help."
She could almost see him give her his face that would make her agree to anything. She sighed, "Oh, all right. I swear it." She brought her hand to her mouth and sealed her promise by kissing the knuckle of her thumb.
"Thank you!" he said, excitedly pulling her into a tight hug.
"Mr. Skinner, please," she said, pushing herself from him, blushing slightly. "For human modesty, if nothing else."
"Sorry."
