Thank you so much for the support and lovely comments you gave the previous chapter, I'm glad you're liking what you've read so far, and I love hearing what you're looking forward to seeing in the coming chapters. So my original plan was to have this chapter be another one set in the near present day, but I'm having a bit of trouble with that one, so instead, you get the first of 6 (I think) interludes showing the how the friendship shown in the prologue came to be. So I hope you like it.

Interlude 1: January 1866

Just as it had been yesterday, the day before that, and the day before that, and for as long as Eliza could remember, the smell of crowded conditions of the slums was rather potent. It hadn't been helped that the recent snow fall and various pipes freezing over had meant that living conditions had been even more awful than usual in recent weeks. As she continued to walk down Cable Street, she held a handkerchief to her nose, to limit her intake of the smell. She was starting a new job the following day, and she really didn't need to start off by being sick either over her new employer or the housekeeper that she was to report to when she arrived in Arlington Street. She kept her carpet bag close at hand, as well as a tight grip on the small coin purse in her coat pocket. Due to her location and its distance from Green Park, she had been informed that her new Master had deemed it necessary for a carriage to be sent to pick her up from the church of St George in the East. She had hoarded the small amount she'd picked up while working at the Rose & Crown to provide a tip to the driver. Eliza was intent on showing that not everyone that came from the slums was debauched and a drunkard.

As she turned the corner, the snow under her feet seemed to become softer and made gentle crunching noises under her boots. It was a marked change from the slushes and snow deposits that had characterised the street her family lived on. She drew nearer to the front entrance of the church and noticed that on the road stood a simple carriage in a rich, royal blue, pulled by a pair of fine horses, the charcoal of their hair a stark contrast to the powdery snow of their surroundings. The man sat up front eyed her curiously as she approached him.

"You the new maid for Higham House on Arlington Street?" he asked as he looked her over from head to toe.

"Yes," she replied as she shuffled nervously under his gaze, feeling a little judged. No doubt he had spotted the frayed cuff of her coat, not to mention the fact that her boots had certainly seen better days.

"Well get in then," the driver huffed. "Can't be waiting around all day."

Feeling thoroughly chastised even though very few sentences had been spoken, Eliza opened the carriage door and climbed inside. She'd barely closed the door behind her when the driver started the carriage and the horses set off.

She watched as the scenery changed from the East End to the more affluent West End and she couldn't help but marvel at how just a short distance changed so much. Still she figured it really shouldn't be that shocking, of course they wouldn't have the visibly destitute in the vicinity of Buckingham Palace. Eliza wondered how long she'd have to work, before she had saved enough to get a small home with more than two rooms for her family to live in. She quickly realised, that by the time she'd saved enough, they would probably all be dead anyway.

When she wasn't wondering about what it would be like to live in a house with more space than she knew what to do with, she spent the rest of her carriage journey wondering about the man she would be maid to. It had been on her cousin Peter's recommendation that she'd even gotten the job in the first place, he'd been in a public house speaking with a footman of Higham House who'd mentioned a desperate need for a new maid, and he'd readily offered her up. Within days Eliza had received a letter of employment from the housekeeper Mrs Reynolds and a date to arrive at the house. The only piece of information she'd gleamed was that he was a bachelor who had inherited the house from his great aunt when she'd died the previous winter and spent most of his days shut away in one of the grand drawing rooms of the house.

The carriage came to a stop, and Eliza looked out of the window at the nondescript black brick building in front of her. Despite the manicured garden and window frames glinting dully in the fading Winter daylight, nothing about the house set it apart from the others alongside it, or any other house she'd seen in the area.

She got out of the carriage, picked up her bag and placed the coins into the driver's outstretched palm. He drove off without another word, and she walked the short distance to the back door where a tall woman, with a pleasant looking face was stood waiting.

"Mrs Reynolds?" Eliza asked cautiously. She assumed that this was the housekeeper, but she wasn't entirely sure.

"That I am," the woman said with a small smile. "You must be Eliza. Well don't just stand there, come in out of the cold."

Despite having been in the house for several days now, Eliza was still not used to the house. More than once she'd found herself getting lost down the wrong corridor. Thankfully the other two maids in the house – Clara and Mary – had been more than willing to help her find her way. As there weren't that many rooms, each of the maids cleaned a room by themselves with Mrs Reynolds checking on them religiously to make sure they were doing their jobs properly. Today, Eliza had been instructed to clean the second drawing room as well as the attached dining room. She reached the green door on the middle landing of the back staircase and pushed it open, looking for the distinctive Gainsborough painting that stood in the hallway. Clara had told her which were the main paintings on each floor to help her find if she was in the right place.

Eliza breathed a sigh of relief as she spotted the painting situated above an ornate cabinet and realised she was on the right floor. She congratulated herself on getting the right floor for the first time, before she carried her bucket the length of the hallway towards the drawing room at the far end. As she neared the drawing room, she heard the gentle sound of a piano being played delicately.

A door stood ajar on her left, and she glanced inside as she passed it. She noticed a large mirror opposite her. In its reflection she spotted the grand piano, as well as the man sat with his head bowed as he played a tuneful melody seemingly with no sheet music in front of him, save for a sheaf of papers scattered across the lid of the piano. Though she had yet to meet the master of the house, she had no doubt that this was him. Eliza knew that he spent most of his time in one of the rooms, she just hadn't realised it was because he was a composer. She watched his reflection as he played, the melody turning from something mournful to joyful seamlessly. Though, Eliza knew she should be getting to work on cleaning the rooms before the party that night, she couldn't help but be mesmerised by the piano player. She also knew it was more than her job was worth to be caught observing her new master this closely, but she couldn't explain the pull she felt towards the tune he was playing.

Almost immediately, the music came to a stop and Eliza gasped as Sir Charles's eyes found hers in the mirror. She quickly turned and hurried down the corridor, praying that this wouldn't get back to Mrs Reynolds and she wouldn't lose her place.

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