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Standard disclaimer.
The railway journey to London, was accomplished in a miraculous two hours, which was, at least four times faster than it would have been, had they gone by coach.
That turned out to be fortunate, as it soon became apparent, that the Pendragon family did not travel well.
Bia and Athena were both overcome with excitement, never having set foot on a train before.
They chattered excitedly, darting across the station platform like feeding pigeons, begging Will to purchase railway editions of popular novels, sandwiches packaged in cunning little paper boxes, and handkerchiefs printed with pastoral scenes.
Loaded with souvenirs, they boarded the family's first-class railway carriage and insisted on trying every seat, before choosing the ones they preferred.
Cassandra had insisted on bringing one of her potted orchids, its long, fragile stem, having been stabilized with a stick and a bit of ribbon.
The orchid was a rare and sensitive species of Blue Vanda. Despite its dislike of being moved, she believed it would be better off in London with her.
She carried the orchid in her lap the entire way, her absorbed gaze, focused on the passing landscape.
Soon after the train had left the station, Athena made herself queasy, by trying to read one of the railway novels.
Finally, she closed the book and settled in her seat with her eyes closed, moaning occasionally, as the train swayed.
Bia, by contrast, couldn't stay seated for more than a few minutes at a time, jumping up to test the feeling of standing in a moving locomotive, and attempting to view the scenery from different windows.
But the worst traveler by far, was Claire, the lady's maid, whose fear of the train's speed, proved resistant to all attempts at soothing.
Every small jolt or lurch of the carriage, drew a fearful cry from her, until Arthur gave her a small glass of brandy to settle her nerves.
"I told you we should have put her in the second-class carriage with Simmons," he said to Gwen.
In the week since the episode in the morning room, they had both taken care to avoid each other as much as possible. When they were together, as now, they retreated into mutual and scrupulous politeness.
"I thought she would feel safer with us," Gwen replied.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that the maid was sleeping, with her head tilted back and her mouth half open.
"She seems to be faring better after a nip of brandy."
"Nip?" Arthur gave her a dark glance. "She's had at least a half pint by now. Bia's been dosing her with it for the past half hour."
"What? Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because, it kept her quiet."
Gwen jumped up and hurried to retrieve the decanter from Bia.
"Darling, what are you doing with this?"
The girl stared at her owlishly.
"I've been helping Claire."
"That was very kind of you, but she's had enough. Don't give her any more."
"I don't know why it's made her so sleepy. I've had almost as much medicine as she's had, and I'm not a bit tired."
"You drank some of the brandy?" Will asked, from the other side of the railway carriage, his brows lifting.
Bia stood and made her way to the opposite window, to view a Celtic hill fort and a meadow with grazing cattle.
"Yes, when we were crossing the bridge over the water, I felt a bit nervous. But then I dosed myself, and it was quite relaxing."
"Indeed," Will said, glancing at the half-empty bottle in Gwen's hand, before returning his gaze to Bia. "Come sit with me, darling. You'll be as stewed as Claire, by the time we reach London."
"Don't be silly," Bia replied, dropping into the empty seat next to him. She went on to argue and giggled profusely, until she dropped her head to his shoulder and began to snore.
Finally, the Pendragon household, arrived at one of the two train sheds at Waterloo Station.
It was crowded, with thousands of passengers searching for their correct departure platforms.
Standing, Arthur stretched his shoulders and said,
"The driver and carriage are waiting outside the train shed. I'll have a porter assist Claire. Everyone else, stay together. Athena, don't even think about dashing off to look at trinkets or books. And Cassandra, hold fast to your orchid in case you're jostled, while we move through the crowd. As for Bia..."
"I have her," Will assured him, pulling the wilting girl to her feet. "Wake up, child. It's time to leave."
"My legs are on the wrong feet," Bia mumbled, her face buried against his chest.
"Reach around my neck."
She squinted up at him.
"Why?"
Will regarded her with amused exasperation.
"So I can carry you off the train."
"I like trains," Bia said, then hiccupped, as he lifted her against his chest. "Oh, being carried is ever so much nicer than walking. I feel so flopsawopsy-doodly..."
Somehow, the group made it through the train shed without mishap. Arthur, always the leader, directed the porters and footmen, to load their luggage onto a road wagon, which would follow the carriage.
Simmons reluctantly took charge of Claire, who was inclined to collapse and slump like a sack of beans, as she sat next to him on a wagon bench.
The family settled into the carriage, while Will elected to sit up top with the driver. And as the vehicle left the station, proceeding towards Waterloo Bridge, a mist of rain accompanied the slow descent of pumice-colored fog.
"Won't Cousin Will be uncomfortable, riding out in the weather?" Athena asked in concern.
Arthur shook his head.
"He loves the city and anything to do with it. He'll want to have a good look at everything."
Bia stirred and sat up to take in the scenery.
"I thought all the streets would be paved with stone."
"Only a few," Arthur said and then, "Most have been paved with wood block, which provides a better foothold for horses."
"There are some very tall buildings here!" Cassandra remarked, curving her arm protectively around the orchid pot. "Some of them must be seven stories, at least."
The twins pressed their noses to the windows, their eager faces on open display.
"Girls, your veils..." Gwen began.
"Let them look," Arthur interrupted quietly. "It's their first glimpse of the city."
She relented, and settled back in her seat.
London is a city of wonders...alive with thousands of odors and sights. And a cacophony of noise, from barking dogs, the clip-clopping of iron-shod horses, the bleating of sheep, the grinding of carriage wheels, the worrying of fiddles and the whines of street organs, fragments of song from street sellers and balladeers, and thousands of voices that argued, bargained, laughed, and called out to each other.
Vehicles and horses moved through the streets in a vigorous flow.
And walkways swarmed with pedestrians, who trod across the pale straw that had been scattered along paths and storefronts, to absorb the damp.
There were vendors, men of business, vagabonds, aristocrats, women in all manner of dress, chimney sweeps with their tattered brooms, shoe shiners carrying folding benches, and match girls balancing bundles of boxes on their heads.
"I can't decide how the air smells," Athena said, as many different types of scents, slipped through a gap in the slide window, beneath the driver's box.
There was smoke, soot, horses, manure, wet brick, salted brown fish, red butcher-shop meat, baking bread, hot sausage pasties, oily plugs of tobacco, human sweat, the sweetness of wax and tallow and flowers, and the metallic tang of steam machinery.
"What would you call it, Bia?"
"Odorwhelming," she replied.
Athena shook her head with a rueful grin and curled an arm around her twin's shoulders.
The carriage turned onto Regent Street, where fashionably dressed men and women promenaded, along rows of shops and clubs, fronted with majestic terraced façades.
Arthur reached up to slide the ceiling window open, and called up to the driver,
"Go by way of Burlington Gardens and Cork Street."
"Yes, milord."
Lowering back to the seat, Arthur said,
"We're taking a slight detour. I thought you all might like to pass by Harcourt's."
His words were met with loud squeals from the twins, a small appreciative smile from Cassandra and a rolling of eyes from Gwen.
As they turned onto Cork, the heavy congestion of vehicles, obliged the carriage to move at a snail's pace, passed an unbroken row of marble-faced edifices, that extended along the entire block.
A central stained-glass rotunda added another fifteen feet in height.
The street-level façades were fronted, with the largest plate-glass windows Gwen had ever seen, with people crowding to view the exotic displays within.
Columned arcades and arched windows adorned the upper floors, while a row of glass-paned square cupolas, topped a triple-stacked parapet on the roof.
For such a massive structure, it had a pleasingly light and airy feel.
"Where is Mr. Harcourt's store?" Gwen asked.
Arthur blinked, as if the question had surprised him.
"This is all Harcourt's. It may look as though it' several buildings, but it's only one."
Gwen stared through the window in amazement.
The structure took up the entire street. It was too large to fit within any of her previous understandings of 'store' because, it was a kingdom in itself.
"I want to visit it," Athena said emphatically.
"Not without me," Bia exclaimed.
"Very soon, girls," Arthur said, his gaze resting on Cassandra, as if he were trying to define her thoughts.
Eventually, they reached the end of Cork Street and maneuvered to South Audley Street.
They approached a large and handsomely appointed house, surrounded by an imposing iron fence and stone gate.
It bore such a resemblance to the Jacobean design of Hampshire Priory, that Gwen knew it belonged to the Pendragons.
The carriage stopped, and the twins nearly leaped from it, before a footman could assist them.
"You never visited here?" Arthur asked Gwen, as they proceeded inside.
She shook her head.
"I saw the exterior once. It wasn't proper to call on an unmarried gentleman at his residence. Liam and I had planned to stay here after summer's end."
"Hmm," was all Arthur said, as they were met by members of the house staff.
The entrance hall at Pendragon House filled, as servants retrieved luggage and escorted family members to their rooms.
Right away, Gwen liked the comforting ambiance of the house, with its solid, traditional furnishings and floors of inlaid oak and cherry, and walls filled with Old Masters paintings.
She wanted to wander around, to see the other rooms, but for now, she wanted to go to her room and freshen up after the journey.
Arthur accompanied Gwen to the second floor, and she suddenly became aware, of strange ethereal music, floating through the air.
"What is that sound?" she asked.
Arthur shook his head, looking perplexed.
They entered the drawing room, where Cassandra, Athena and Bia, had all gathered around a small rectangular table.
The twins' faces glowed with excitement, while Cassandra's was blank.
"Gwen," Bia exclaimed, "It's the most beautiful, clever thing you've ever seen!"
Gwen saw a music box, that was at least three feet long and a foot tall. It was made of rosewood, decorated with gold and lacquer inlay, and rested upon its own matching table.
"Let's try another," Athena urged, opening a drawer in the front of the table.
Cassandra reached into the box to withdraw a brass cylinder, its surface bristling with hundreds of tiny pins, while several more cylinders lay in a gleaming row in the drawer.
"You see?" Bia said to Gwen excitedly. "Each cylinder plays a different piece of music. You can choose what you want to hear."
Gwen shook her head, silently marveling, as Cassandra placed a new cylinder in the box and flipped a brass lever.
Then, a brisk, jaunty melody of the William Tell Overture poured out, making the twins laugh.
"It's made in Switzerland," Arthur remarked, staring at a plaque on the interior of the lid. "The cylinders are all opera overtures."
"But where did it come from?" Gwen asked.
"It seems to have been delivered today," Cassandra said, her voice oddly subdued. "For me. From...Mr. Harcourt."
Silence descended on the group.
Picking up a folded note, Cassandra gave it to Arthur. And although her face was composed, bewilderment shone in her eyes.
"He..." she began uncomfortably, "...that is, Mr. Harcourt...seems to think..."
Arthur met her gaze directly.
"I've given him leave to court you," he said bluntly. "Only if you desire it. If you do not..."
"What?" Gwen burst out, rage pumping through her as her eyes bore into Arthur.
He remained silent.
"Absolutely not!" Gwen snapped at him. "Tell him you've changed your mind."
"It's up to Cassandra to decide what she wants," he said calmly, finding his voice. And then, "Not you."
With his jaw set, he looked exactly like the arrogant ass he had been, the very first time they'd met.
"What has Mr. Harcourt promised you?" Gwen demanded. "What does the estate stand to gain if he marries Cassandra?"
Arthur's eyes were hard.
"We'll discuss it in private. There's a study on the main floor."
Cassandra moved to join them, but Gwen stopped her with a gentle touch on her arm.
"Darling," she said urgently, "Please let me speak to Lord Pendragon first. There are private things I must ask him. You and I will talk afterwards, I promise."
Cassandra contemplated Gwen for a long moment, her eyes pale and light-tricked.
When she spoke, her voice was firm and calm.
"Before anything is discussed, I want to make something clear. I trust and love you as my own sister, dearest Gwen, and I know you feel the same about me. But I believe, I view my own situation more pragmatically than you do." Her gaze lifted to Arthur's face as she continued. "If Mr. Harcourt does intend to offer to court me...it's not something I could dismiss lightly."
Not trusting herself to reply, Gwen swallowed back her anger and briefly considered smiling, but her face was too rigid. So she settled for patting Lady Cassandra's arm instead.
Turning on her heel, she left the drawing room, with Arthur quietly following.
Stay safe!