15 Years Ago
The Bodleian Library had always stood out to tourists and visitors. Not exempt to its charms and beauties, a younger Lord Remington Ashburton walked through the main aisle and stopped at the staircase leading down to the archives. He glanced at his pocket watch and then, replaced it into his pocket.
A young woman with long black hair pulled back into a classic but simple bun in a dark green silk dress of Eastern influence ran up from the archives. He caught her eye and then, he noticed the metal item she held in her arms. Someone chased her but she gauged him in that moment and understood that he was there to protect her.
He proved this by physically disabling the guard who hunted her and placed him against the stairwell, slumped over. When he turned back, intending to speak to her, he turned to see her continue running on her way out of the library.
Following her closely, she turned suddenly and grabbed his sleeve, taking him with her through a service door. They made their way down a flight of stairs and then, through a long room before opening another door to the exterior of the library.
There, Lord Remington stopped as she reoriented herself. Without a sound, someone jumped on her from above before Lord Remington could react. And then, without much effort, she had her attacker on the ground, sputtering something incoherent.
Lord Remington noticed that it was Remington's man and his recognition caused her to frown. "You know this man?" she demanded, obviously assessing the information coming at her.
His hands raised, Lord Remington nodded and stated, "We are on the same side, if you are on the side of the crown."
With that, the young woman did not release the hold on her attacker but relaxed a bit. She eyed Lord Remington warily before she calmly stated, "The moon and stars cannot compare," she stopped.
"To the jewel in the crown," Lord Remington finished.
The young woman, no older than 15 years of age, released her attacker, who rose and stepped behind Lord Remington, who eyed her carefully before she met his eyes, "You are here to assist me?" she asked.
Lord Remington cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders, "I am here to defend you if you need it. Which," he added, eyeing his man, "you don't seem to."
The young woman looked him over once more and then, she stated, "I will deliver the information to my superior."
Lord Remington nodded to his man, who hurried away. "Yes, my lady. And I will see you there safely." He waved his hand towards where his man had gone. "Shall we walk together and appear to be friends?" he asked, not getting closer to her.
They walked for a moment before they arrived at a carriage. Once inside, Lord Remington eyed her carefully and asked, "Do you have a name or preference to being addressed?"
The young lady looked at him with wide eyes before she responded with, "If you are unsure as to my identity, then you are not the man I thought you were, Lord Remington." And to this, he smiled warmly.
Upon returning to Lord Bancroft Ashburton's command room, the young woman handed him the information stolen from the library. Lord Remington watched as Bancroft looked it over before nodding his approval to her. When he turned to his brother, he called her over and nodded to him, "Thank you, Remington, for your assistance. Will you travel with your company abroad now?" he asked, ignoring the young woman who turned and walked to the window.
Remington sighed. Bancroft was always a stickler for brotherly lack of affection. But Remington respected it and allowed the coldness to pass between them. It was a distance he didn't trust but had grown accustomed to.
"I will be sent on for some time and return to London once before moving on," he explained, his eyes wandering back to the girl by the window.
Upon his glance, Bancroft stated, "She is one of the agents from the Orient. Her parentage is partial but she has chosen to serve the crown. She is quite useful, which is a positive note for my purposes," he added, turning to hand the information to another runner.
Remington frowned and asked, "The crown approves of the employment of children to your work?"
To this, Bancroft scoffed and replied, "Appearances can be foolish. She is sixteen though her genetics prove otherwise. It is a blessing to have her in my ranks," he added, with no sentiment but pure tyranny.
Remington winced. She was, indeed, a young woman in the service of the crown. This meant that she might never marry nor might she ever have a position in society. Most agents of the crown remained in their stations, without any possibility of rising.
"In any case, she has been trained as a knife and is quite indispensable to my work," he added, thoughtlessly.
This shocked Remington. For such a young woman to be used as a killer… the thought was unheard of by Remington. However, it was Bancroft who spoke these words and employed her. He bowed his head and stated, "Should you lose use of her, she would be welcome in my company. Should her blade ever dull," he added.
Bancroft laughed and shook his head, "I pray that would never happen," he replied. Of course, the young lady had heard everything from her place by the window. Or, perhaps Bancroft hadn't cared that she did but Remington found himself feeling quite bad for the young woman he had mistaken as a girl. But there was nothing he could do. She served Bancroft and not him.
Present Day
In the reading room of the British Museum, Charlotte Holmes sat alone at a small table, drinking tea and eating pastries. Having stayed in London most of the year due to her current occupation, she often visited such an establishment for comfort and familiarity.
She hadn't dressed to be noticed but had her own tastes. She was comfortable but not dressed extravagantly. However she thought herself inconspicuous, nor did she care for what others perceived of her, a young woman entered the reading room and walked along the wall before turning to step behind the seat across from Charlotte.
"Is this seat taken?" the young woman asked, a slight accent to her tone that caused Charlotte to study the young woman for a moment longer than she had intended to. The young woman waited, her long black hair pulled back in braids in a bun, and flowers tucked into her hair. She wore a long green dress that was dark enough to repel attention but bright enough to allow her a certain level of invisibility.
Charlotte inclined her head and the young woman took a seat. She didn't even bother to spread her skirts, but they moved on their own and reacted differently to the moving air around them. Charlotte couldn't help but notice the details of the young woman and forgot herself for a moment in her observation.
The young woman smiled politely and stated, "Thank you for allowing me to share your company. I hope I am not intruding," she added, with careful grace. The tilt of her accent still nagged at Charlotte, who attempted to figure out where she was from.
Charlotte had never observed any other lady that had ever dressed as she did, moved as she did, and was as conscious as her appearance without seeming to be so. Mrs. Watson was not even as outwardly inviting as this young woman was.
When a serving lady joined them, the young woman declined refreshments, which further caused Charlotte to believe that the young woman had intended only conversation with her. She was puzzled but welcomed it. No one of close relations was in London and would not be for some time. She didn't mind the company, especially when Mrs. Watson was busy on other matters.
Waiting a moment longer before speaking after they were left alone again, Charlotte inquired, "You are here to see me?"
The young woman turned to look her light brown eyes on Charlotte and she felt the impact immediately. The intelligence, observation, and careful conducting of this woman told Charlotte that she was with someone who was very similar to herself and not at all. Not a confidence artist but with a feeling of one.
The young woman tilted her head to the left before she stated, "You are every bit as intriguing as I have been told. I look forward to seeing you again," she added. She nodded her head and rose from her seat.
Charlotte watched, in mild surprise, as the young woman walked to the other side of the room where, to her greater surprise, Lord Remington Ashburton waited for her. He offered her his arm and she took it, replacing the hat that he had offered hero n her head, not disturbing the flowers.
Even from her distance, Charlotte noticed the gentle look on Lord Remington, the third older brother of her dear friend, Lord Ingram Ashburton. He was handsome and well built, but more than that, he looked every bit the attentive and devoted admirer of the young lady. And Charlotte found herself already devising of a letter in her mind of what she wanted to ask when she returned to her rooms to her dear friend.