[A/N: I hadn't read too many interviews about MSatD before writing my fanfic, so there's quite a few things I didn't know about.

I found the below, it was an interview with Rachel New from February 2021 for Salon dot com"

"I would also delve a lot more into where Duke's come from. Duke came from Glasgow, from really poor beginnings – basically, the Victorian workhouse. He came to London as a kind of scrappy young man, and Henry Scarlet found him probably doing things that he shouldn't be doing: pickpocketing and robbing and all sorts of things.

Henry was his mentor, Henry was the one who turned him on to the police. That's when Duke and Eliza would have, their worlds would have orbited each other but also he would have been to her house when they were teenagers."

And then, having read that, I wanted to write another story. So here's a very short story on how they met, based on that paragraph.]

An Eternal Optimist

Uh-oh, the young man thought as the gentleman he had bumped into grabbed him tightly by the collar. "I believe you have something that belongs to me." He said sternly, but there was a twinkle in his eye and he was smiling wryly.

"Ah, Sir, my deepest apologies, you must have dropped this when I had knocked into you." The lad said, handing him his wallet. The gentleman nodded, and knowingly opened it and saw that his money was missing. He held his hand out. The lad grinned, "Can't blame me for trying!" He handed him back half of the money.

"And the rest…" The gentleman demanded. The lad sighed, "Can't I keep some of it? Finder's fee? Just enough for some food. Please?" The gentleman studied him, he was a tall lad, and broad, but way too thin for someone with such a large frame.

The man reached into his other pocket and pulled out his identification. The lad blanched, he knew enough to be able to recognize it as a police badge. Slowly mouthing the name, he read aloud, "Detective Henry Scarlet". He was about to run, but the man stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Don't run. I'm not going to arrest you. Come with me." The detective said. The lad's curiosity, now thoroughly piqued, decided to go with him. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he had a good feeling about the detective, he radiated kindness and warmth, rare traits to be found.

"What's your name my boy?" The detective asked him. "William Wellington, Sir." He replied. "William, pleasure to meet you. You may call me Henry." Henry told him. William nodded.

They walked a short distance and stopped in front of a red door. Henry inserted his key and held the door open for William to enter ahead of him. A whirlwind of blonde hair in a blue dress, followed by a yapping dog, bore down on him and knocked him backwards. "Oof!" He cried out catching the girl in his arms. He looked down at her and smiled, she was a pretty young thing, of 14 years or so, with the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen. They were looking up at him in horror.

"Who are you?" She asked, quickly breaking out of his embrace. She had run to the door to hug her father, not having expected a scruffy boy to have been standing there instead. She looked over at Henry, "Papa? Who is he?" She repeated, going to stand at Henry's side. Henry wrapped his arm around Eliza's shoulders and squeezed. "Sorry Lizzie! This is William Wellington, he'll be joining us for dinner tonight."

Eliza looked him up at down, he was a good foot taller than her, and skinny, she had felt his ribs through his worn clothing when she had accidentally hugged him. He had dark brown hair and intense green eyes. There was a smattering of freckles across his nose, and his cheeks were hidden by a short scruffy beard. It looked as though he couldn't decide between shaving, or growing it out. When he smiled his entire face lit up. She supposed one could consider him handsome, if one was into that sort of look.

She narrowed her eyes at him, mistrust written all over her features. William grinned, "Nice to meet you Lizzie." He said. She bristled, "Do not call me Lizzie. You may call me Eliza." She said haughtily. "Very well Eliza." He retorted, giving a mock bow. Eliza huffed and turned on her heel, heading to the dining room.

William chuckled, "She doesn't like me." He said to Henry, not at all annoyed. He was looking forward to making those bright blue eyes look back at him with something very different from horror. Henry laughed and pat William on the back, "My boy, she will run rings around you." He said shaking his head.

"Why precisely are you having dinner with us?" Eliza asked William. She was watching him eat, aghast at his horrible manners. By this point she had completely lost her appetite. William shrugged, "I was hungry." He said, his mouth full of roast chicken.

Eliza looked over at her father with dismay, then sighed, "You felt bad for him, didn't you?" She asked Henry, who grinned and shrugged.

"You must not be a very good pickpocket if even my father was able to catch you." Eliza said slyly. William paused from shoveling food into his mouth and looked up at her from across the table. He swallowed, "I happen to be a very good pickpocket." He said defensively, also wondering how she even knew he was a pickpocket in the first place.

Eliza scoffed, "No offense Papa," She said to Henry, then turned back to William, "but my father tends to be distracted most of the time, you must have been fairly obvious." Both men were glaring at her now.

"Lizzie!" Henry exclaimed, having been offended by her comment, despite it being true. William leaned forward, elbows on the table, "Do you think you could do better?" Eliza grinned at the challenge. She pushed back her chair and slowly sauntered over to him. William turned in his seat to face her, his neck was suddenly feeling a bit warm under the collar.

She leaned over, so close to him that her silky hair brushed lightly against his cheek, "I know I can do better." She whispered in his ear. William gulped. Eliza quickly stepped back and took her seat again and resumed eating without a care in the world.

William took a few deep breaths, his heart was pounding. Why is she having this effect on me? No other girls have… Then suddenly he looked down and pat his pockets then looked back up at her, his jaw practically hitting the floor.

Eliza had her hands up on either side of her, in one hand she held a worn coin purse, in the other, a battered pocket watch dangled from her fingers."How?" William asked completely baffled, "How did you do that?" He asked again, now very impressed. Eliza shrugged, "Simple distraction technique. You're a very simple boy William." He scowled, Well, we'll see if I ever let that pretty face distract me again!

Henry bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. William held his hand out across the table for his things. Eliza didn't make a move to hand them to him. "Can I have my things back?" He asked. She still didn't move. Sighing, he tried again, "May I have my things back, please?"

Eliza grinned and reached across the table to hand them to him. He coyly let his fingers brush across her hand, a slight flush appearing on her face. He caught her gaze and seemed to say, two can play the same game. She pulled her hand back quickly and held it in her lap, rubbing the back of it where he had touched her.

"So tell me Eliza, how did you know I was trying to pickpocket your father?" William asked. It was still bugging him how she had known without having been told. He sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

"It was fairly simple, you had come to London as a child, you still retain your accent, Glasgow?" She asked, William nodded, fascinated, "yet it is not so heavy, you therefore had been young enough to have lost some of it. Then, when you manhandled me," she said glaring again, "I had felt deep calluses along your palms and fingers, implying that you had been in a workhouse for quite some time, but not recently, they were not as rough on the top layer as they should have been. I'm assuming you had left within the past year?" He nodded again, glancing at his rough palms, "Seeing your lack of manners at the dinner table, and your work history, you are uneducated, leaving you with little options of employment, you are too thin for physical labor, so the only option left open to you is theft." She concluded triumphantly.

Henry alternated between feeling proud of her, and annoyed at her rudeness to his guest, irregardless of who he was, he was still a guest, and should be treated as one. William was amazed at how accurate she had been, but wouldn't have dreamed of admitting it. Instead he burst out saying, "Ha, you're wrong. I can read! A little…"

"And the rest?" Eliza asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly. William sighed, "Spot on. Nice parlor trick." He said, wanting to aggravate her again. He liked it when her face scrunched up in annoyance, she looked cute. Instead she smiled brightly, and he felt his heart start to melt. Jesus, what is wrong with me? He thought, followed by, I wonder if she's spoken for? She's still rather young though…

A stern woman appeared at the dining room doorway, "Lizzie, time for bed, it's past your bedtime." Eliza turned bright red, embarrassed at being treated like a child in front of William, who was now smirking.

Head held high, Eliza rose from the table and walked over to Henry. "Good night Papa!" She said kissing him on the cheek. "Good night my clever girl!" Henry replied, smiling indulgently at her, making a mental note to talk to her tomorrow regarding her manners.

William stood from his chair. "William. Have a pleasant evening." She said. Then to her surprise, William, holding her gaze with an intensity that shook her to her core, took her hand in his and raised it, she felt his warm breath across the back of hand, his lips barely grazing her knuckles, "Sweet dreams Eliza." He said huskily, his voice hardly above a whisper.

Eliza pulled her hand back and ran upstairs. Henry hadn't seemed to have noticed the exchange, busy as he was filling two glasses with his finest whisky.

One day, that girl will be mine… William thought with a smile. Little did he know that it would take over a decade, but even if he had, he was an eternal optimist, and did not mind the wait.