The next morning, I awoke to a loud knock on my door. I bounced out of bed, feeling very much refreshed, and opened the door to find no one there. I looked around in confusion and some disappointment (I had thought it might be Draco) and then noticed a fancy card stuck to my door. Your presence is requested in the family dining room at nine o'clock for breakfast. It was unsigned. Shrugging, I glanced at the clock and saw that it was only quarter to eight. More than enough time for a nice, long shower.

I was about to go back into my bedroom when there came another knock at the sitting room door. This time it was Draco and I had to try very hard not to beam at him like some lovesick third grader. He was dressed in sturdy work clothes and riding boots.

"I wanted to let you know to dress for riding," he said brusquely. "We'll have to go right after breakfast."

"Thanks," I replied, and stood there awkwardly, trying to think of something to say.

"You remember where the dining room is?"

I thought of saying 'no', just so he would have to accompany me, but I decided that this was kind of childish and nodded. He nodded curtly and gave me that little bow of his before striding away. I frowned after him. That was interesting. Maybe he was just embarrassed or shy. But that didn't seem right. He had been so charming and confident the night before. With a shrug, I retreated to my bathroom and forgot all about it in the euphoria that came with showering in that wondrous bathtub.

I dried off and dug out a pair of jeans, the under-armor I wore under my soccer uniform when it was cold, a thermal vest and socks, a sweater, a hoodie, a scarf, a hat, and two pairs of gloves. In case you haven't gotten the picture yet, I absolutely hate being cold. I put everything on except the outer layers and braided my hair. Then, gathering up what I wasn't wearing, I made my way to the family dining room. Uncle Mac raised his eyebrows as I dumped everything next to my chair but didn't say anything. Draco grunted in greeting and continued drinking his tea.

I sat down and helped myself to some bread and jam, yogurt, and fruit. After a few minutes of chewing in silence, Uncle Mac cleared his throat. I looked up inquiringly.

"I've contacted your tutors to let them know that you've arrived," he told me. "Do you think you'll be ready to start your lessons tomorrow? If you need another day to get settled in, that's fine."

"Oh, no, tomorrow's alright," I replied, wiping my mouth. "What lessons will I have?"

"You might find it a bit different from what you're used to," Uncle Mac said hesitantly. "But I think it will be quite beneficial. And you might find the change refreshing."

"What do you mean?" I asked curiously.

"Well," Uncle Mac began. "Tomorrow, for instance, you will study Logic, Geometry, Rhetoric, and an introduction to Astronomy in the morning. In the afternoon, you'll have piano, voice, and art lessons."

I raised my eyebrows and grinned. "A classical education for the Greek girl, huh? What other lessons did you have in mind?"

"Well, I thought you should continue your studies in foreign language—you already speak French, Spanish, and Italian, correct? You shall continue learning those as well as Russian. You need to learn to dance, you need to learn proper etiquette—last night was just a warm-up; just wait until we go to bigger parties. I assure you, some of these women make Catherine and Isabelle look like kittens. What else? Ah, yes. Physical education is most important—I thought riding, archery, and fencing should suffice."

I blinked, stunned. Then I grinned. Sure, it was a lot, but it would be so fun! And it would give me the tools I needed to play Big Bad Bitch with all the snotty women I was sure to meet. I realized then that this was Uncle Mac's aim. I smiled blissfully. No more Calculus, no more Physics, no more Chemistry. It was almost—almost—too good to be true.

"That sounds fantastic," I said heartily. "I can't wait."

Uncle Mac chuckled. "Just you wait, my girl. Soon you'll wish you'd taken my offer of another day."

After breakfast, Draco and I headed out to the stables. He was still silent most of the way, but when he did speak, it was with more warmth than there had been earlier. Two saddled horses were waiting for us in cross ties when we entered the stables. I frowned at this, but decided Draco must have let the grooms know ahead of time. But where were the grooms? And where was the household staff, come to think of it? A house this large needed some sort of staff. I pushed these thoughts out of my mind, determined to have a good time.

Once we were out in the fresh air, Draco lightened up a bit, teasing me about my multi-layered ensemble. I retorted in kind and we spent the better part of twenty minutes bantering back and forth.

"I'm sorry I was such an ogre earlier," he told me as we rode through a meadow. "I should have warned you—I'm a real bear in the morning."

"Ah," I said in tones of vast enlightenment. "My cousin's like that. He's useless until noon at least, even with coffee. Why don't you drink coffee?"

"I don't know," Draco said, looking surprised. "I never drank it growing up. My mother wouldn't let me drink anything stronger than tea."

"What you need is coffee," I told him. "I never needed it, though. I'm fine as soon as I wake up."

"Oh, you're one of those," Draco said disgustedly, and shuddered. "Morning people. Ugh."

In response, I grabbed a pine cone from an overhanging branch and chucked it at the back of his head. I giggled as he made a sound of mock outrage and yelped when a snowball knocked my hat off.

"Where did you get that?" I demanded.

"I've had it the whole time," he told me, eyes twinkling. "Just in case."

"You shouldn't be so trusting, Draco. Really..."

Draco laughed and retrieved my hat for me and we continued on our way. It was quite a delightful outing and I returned in high spirits. Upon entering the house, we went our separate ways: he to his study and I to my room to finish unpacking (and perhaps take another bath). I spent the rest of the day putting away clothes and books, unpacking and finding places for little knickknacks I had brought with me, and looking over the books Uncle Mac had bought for my lessons.

I had a small shock when I tried to plug in my alarm clock: there weren't any outlets anywhere. How, then, did my lamp work? Surely it couldn't be battery powered. I looked in the sitting room. Nope. No outlets there, either. I scratched my head. Something weird was going on here. No visible staff, no outlets. I thought back. No radios, TV sets, computers, or telephones, either. This time I had more trouble putting such thoughts out of my mind. But what could I do about it? I didn't want to ask Uncle Mac or Draco for fear of some insanely simple answer that would make me look like a two year old. I'll listen, I decided. And explore. I can figure this out.

Unfortunately, I soon found myself without any time to breathe, much less explore. Well, alright, I did have some free time, but most of it was spent in the bathtub or exploring the woods in wolf-shape. I did listen, but neither Draco nor Uncle Mac let anything suspicious slip. Although what, exactly, would constitute suspicious, I had no idea. About halfway through the week, I decided to actually do something about my predicament.

I caught Uncle Mac on the way to his study in between French and Spanish and caught his sleeve.

"Uncle Mac! I'm sorry to bother you, but I'd wanted to call my grandmother today," I said and smiled ingratiatingly. "I feel so silly—where's the telephone?"

"The—oh! Oh, I'm so sorry, my dear, I didn't even think..." Uncle Mac scratched his head and laughed sheepishly. "Well, the thing is—I haven't got a telephone. I never liked being interrupted day in and day out by the blasted things. I'm quite old fashioned, I'm afraid...if you wish to contact your relatives, I'd be more than happy to take a letter down to the village to be mailed."

"Oh," I said, not at all satisfied with this answer. "Yes, I'll do that. Thank you."

He didn't have a telephone? That was simply not possible. Not for a businessman, anyway. I stared broodingly at Uncle Mac's back until my Spanish tutor suddenly barked at me from the door of the library.

"Tenemos una problema, señorita? No tengo todo el dia."

"Uno momento," I called, and reluctantly turned back.

At the end of the week, I received a surprise. I was leaving the arena after my riding lesson when I spotted Draco letting himself out of one of the stalls. Suppressing the butterflies in my stomach, I waited for him to catch up. I couldn't suppress, however, a small sigh. He was so good-looking.

"Ari," he greeted me with a smile. "Has your uncle told you the good news?"

"What good news?" I asked as we made our way up the path to the house.

"Oh, good," Draco said, looking pleased. "I did hope I could surprise you."

"Surprise me with what?" I asked curiously.

"I have to go to London on business tonight," he informed me.

"And this is good news?" I said before I could stop myself, and blushed.

Draco grinned. "Yes, it is. Would you like to know why?"

"Why?"

"Because you, my dear, are coming with me," he proclaimed triumphantly.

"Really?" I asked excitedly. "Wait—just you and me?"

"Just you and me. Well, and Willie."

"Scandalous," I said in a stage whisper.

"I'll have you know my intentions are completely honorable," Draco told me, pretending to be offended. "Besides, it'd be more than my job—or my life—is worth to try anything funny."

"Why's Uncle Mac sending me with you?" I asked. "Not that I'm objecting, of course."

"I'm to take you shopping, actually," Draco said ruefully. "There are several social engagements coming up and he wants your wardrobe to be well stocked. And he thought you might want to do some Christmas shopping."

"Oh," I said, startled. "Wow, I'd completely forgotten about Christmas. Only two weeks."

"Don't get too excited," he told me. "He's having a Christmas party and everyone is going to be there. Or here, rather. And before you ask, it is a fancy occasion."

"And we're leaving tonight? How long are we staying? What should I pack? Oh, why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Yes, just the weekend, at least one nice dress, and because your uncle didn't want you to be distracted in your lessons," Draco replied, sounding amused. "Go on, I'll see you at dinner."

I dashed up to my room and (after a nice bubble bath) spent a good hour trying on different dresses and deciding what to bring. I was finished just in time for dinner and practically skipped into the dining room. Uncle Mac looked up, smiling.

"Are you all packed?" he asked me.

I nodded. "Thanks for letting me go—I'm really excited. But what about money? I don't think my credit card will work..."

"Don't be silly," Uncle Mac said as Draco walked in. "Draco will pay for anything you need."

"He will?" Draco asked, raising his eyebrows and sitting down. "That's generous of you."

"Using my money, of course," Uncle Mac added hastily. He waved away my protests and winked. "If you feel you must repay me, know that my stock of chocolates will probably be gone by Christmas."

"I don't know what to say," I murmured, flustered.

"Say you won't be stingy," he said firmly. "I refuse to let you be outdone by my friends' wretched wives."

"Well, when you put it that way..." I grinned. I turned to Draco. "What's the nice dress for?"

"My mother and a good friend of ours are in London for a few days and I wanted to meet them for dinner," Draco explained. "And I thought you might want to see a play or something."

I resisted the urge to squeal and clap my hands and settled for a wide grin. "That sounds great."

We left (finally) and I suddenly found myself in the backseat with an absolutely gorgeous, rich, courteous young man whose orders were basically to be my slave for the weekend. Oh, the possibilities. Then, of course, I realized that I'd be in this back seat for at least a couple of hours. What in the world would we talk about? God, please don't let me make a fool of myself.

I was kind of surprised and more than a little disgusted with these thoughts. I'd never really gotten all dizzy and giggly over a boy before. But then, I'd never met anyone as good-looking, intelligent, or damned perfect as Draco before, either. And...okay, this might sound a little—well, conceited, but I'd never been unsure of myself with boys before. They were always sort of there for the taking. Like puppies. Whining, squirming puppies saying "Take me home! Take me home!". Draco was no puppy.

However, I needn't have worried. We got along just fine, chatting and laughing like old friends. I eventually fell asleep and the next thing I knew, Draco was gently shaking my shoulder to wake me up. I sat up and blinked groggily, letting him help me out of the car.

"It's so foggy," I murmured sleepily, and shivered as we hurried into the hotel. "What time is it?"

"Just about midnight," Draco replied, and held the door open for me to go in first. What a gentleman.

I waited quietly, half asleep, while he checked us in and followed the bellhop up to our rooms. Why was he calling Draco Mr. Malcolm? Maybe I heard wrong. Draco helped me out of my coat and handed me my key.

"I've some business to attend to," he said. "It won't take long."

"Draco, it's twelve o'clock," I protested. "What--"

"It won't take long," he repeated firmly, steering me toward the bed. "Get in bed, you're dead on your feet."

I got in bed without further protest and closed my eyes, but I had no intention of going to sleep. Businessmen were strange creatures, to be sure, but a business meeting after midnight? Please. Using my enhanced senses on purpose for the first time, I listened carefully to Draco moving about his room while I silently dressed in warm street clothes. I would stay in wolf-shape if I could help it, but if I did have to change, I wanted to be warm. Thankfully, I had figured out how to keep my clothes on when I changed. It wouldn't do to be walking around London naked.

There. Draco was leaving. I darted over to the door, waited a moment, and peeked out. There was Draco, disappearing around the corner. I padded after him, keeping a sharp ear out for any maids or bellhops that might be lurking. I didn't want anyone to see me—I wouldn't put it past them to tell Draco that I'd been following him.

I made it outside without being seen and slipped into a deserted alleyway to change. Shaking out my coat, I put my nose to the ground and spent a few minutes searching for Draco's scent. Ah, there we go. And then I was off, slinking through the shadows although I probably didn't need to worry. The streets seemed oddly deserted. In big cities, there are usually people out an about no matter what the hour. But there was no one.

I followed Draco's trail down a dark alley to a dingy, beat-up door. A huge gorilla of a man stood guard. A bouncer? Was Draco merely out for a drink? No, I decided. If he wanted a drink, he would've gone someplace fancier. Or cleaner, at least. I dodged the kick the brute aimed at me and bared my teeth before trotting around the corner.

I changed and pulled up my hood, mentally berating myself. What the hell was I doing? For all I knew, it could be a strip club. Now that would be embarrassing. Taking a deep breath, I walked back around the corner and approached the bouncer.

"Wot's yer bizness?" he grunted at me.

"I'm here to see Mr. Malcolm," I said with far more confidence than I felt. "He's expecting me."

"Oh," he said, attitude changing at once. "Mister Malcolm, ye say? I do beg yer pardon, miss. Gwan in, then, roit down th' stairs. Best hurry, though. Mister Malcolm's up next."

I nodded curtly and brushed by him. What the hell did that mean? Up next for what? I hurried down the stairs and found myself in a seething mass of shouting, sweating, swearing bodies. No one noticed me; all eyes were on the ring in the center of the room. Boxing? Boxing? Draco was a bookie?

No, not a bookie, I realized with a clenching feeling in my stomach. There was Draco, stripped to the waist and glistening with sweat, sprawled on a stool and panting. A man in a dark suit was dabbing a cut on his cheek with a sponge. I shot a quick look at the opposite corner and smirked in spite of myself. This one didn't look so good. Even in the dim light, I could see that his nose was gushing blood and one eye was swollen shut. His manager was desperately trying to stem the flow while talking furiously at him.

The bell went off. Draco was instantly on his feet. I gasped as his opponent threw a vicious-looking punch which Draco ducked neatly and returned, knocking the man's head back. The fight didn't last long after that. It seemed to me that Draco played with him a little bit before dealing him a truly stunning blow that knocked him clear off his feet. He didn't get up.

I slipped into the shadows as Draco ducked out of the ring and collected his earnings from the man in the dark suit. I darted back up the stairs and into the alleyway without even a glance at the guard at the door. I couldn't believe it. Draco in an unlicensed boxing match? It was impossible! Draco, the rich, suave business student? Draco the singer?

After I got over the shock of having my mental image of Draco shattered, I found that I was more impressed than upset. I didn't know much about boxing, but even I could see that he was good. He moved like he was made of liquid steel. He moved like a predator.

I slipped into the hotel behind a bellhop and darted down the hallway and up to my room. I threw off my clothes and dove into bed, mind whirling. I wonder if my uncle knew? Possibly, I mused. Maybe he got a cut of Draco's earnings.

It took me a long time to fall asleep, even after I heard Draco enter his room some twenty minutes later. There was something decidedly fishy about Draco and my uncle. But did Draco's 'business' have anything to do with the complete lack of visible technology or service at my uncle's house? I didn't see how they could possibly be related, but surely this wasn't coincidence. And what, exactly, was dear Uncle Mac's business, anyway? I'd never thought to ask.

There were quite a lot of thing's I'd never thought to ask, I realized. Like what did Draco and Uncle Mac do all day while I was in lessons? Why was it more convenient for Draco to stay with Uncle Mac if he had to go into London to do business? Whatever happened to that friend of Uncle Mac's from Oxford? Why didn't I ever see a mailman at Greenwood, even though I'd received letters from Soula and my family? Uncle Mac said he retrieved the letters from the village, but why hadn't I ever been to the village—or even seen it? And where did Willie go when he wasn't driving us places? These questions bounced around in my head until finally, I fell into an uneasy sleep.

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