The first thing I did after breakfast the next day was leave early to visit my solicitor. Mr. Douglas raised an eyebrow when he heard my request. "Would you rather I not allow Mr. Windibank access to the funds?" he asked, his tone gentle. "It is generous of you to allow him to have use of the interest at all."

"No," I said quickly. While I wanted to protect myself as best I could, I wasn't completely stupid. I was only safe while I was useful to my stepfather. "I still want to assist my mother with expenses, however, I also want to make sure I am not taken advantage of."

With a nod, Mr. Douglas made a note. "Do you wish your stepfather to make alterations to your investments?"

"No, of course not." The last thing I wanted was James to have any more control over my money. "Has he tried?"

Mr. Douglas looked down at the papers on his desk. "He's made suggestions, but I tend to be more cautious about such matters. I understand he only wishes what is best for you, Miss Sutherland."

I didn't argue the point. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Douglas. I appreciate it very much."

"Has something happened to concern you?" Mr. Douglas asked, lifting his gaze. His forehead was wrinkled with a frown. "These stipulations you've laid out are...odd, I must say. Should you marry, your husband would take control of your assets and your parents would no longer be able to do so."

Of course he would assume that would be the only reason I would no longer be under my mother's roof. Dare I tell him about Mr. Sutherland's threat? No, not when any decision I made could be contested as being invalid because I may be 'insane'.

"I just want to be certain there are no loopholes or any possible way I might be at a disadvantage. My uncle would expect me to do so, I'm sure."

The solicitor started to say something and then paused. "Of course. I'll make certain your wishes are honored. Will there be anything else, Miss Sutherland? Any other concerns?"

There was not. I thanked him and took my leave. A cold wind made me shiver when I left the office. I went about the rest of my day, pleased I had accomplished at least one thing to protect myself. Now, I just needed to make contact with Mr. Holmes.

Since I'd seen my shadow when I left home, I knew he would be there when I was done with my typing. Therefore, I took a break from typing to write a note with the intention of sending it as a telegraph when I completed my sheets of the day.

What I hadn't planned on was James Windibank to be waiting for me as soon as I stepped out of the office. "Ah, there you are, Mary," he said, his hand curling around my wrist. "I've come to walk home with you. It's not always safe for a young lady on her own, you know."

"No, I didn't know," I said primly. I'd walked to and fro on my own for some time now, and have been perfectly fine. Granted the previous year, with the terrible killings by Jack the Ripper, I had been hesitant to walk alone. Much of the typing I'd done was at home during that time. When there had been no new murder and the furor had calmed, I'd returned to my old routine.

"Oblige me," James said, tightening his grip on my wrist. With a pained cry, I let go of the message I'd written. In a flash, James bent down and picked it up. "And what's this?"

"Personal," I said as I tried to snatch it back.

He stepped out of my grasp and unfolded the paper. His lips pressed into a thin line as he read my brief plea. "Did I not say you were not to have anything to do with that charlatan?" he demanded, lifting his gaze to me.

"Perhaps, but I never agreed to do so." Perhaps my fierceness was the wrong tact for me to take. Oh, why had he come? His office was not near where I worked, so he must have had a reason to come.

Did he know I had been to my solicitor? If I had to choose between him preventing me from contacting Mr. Holmes and knowing about the changes to my money, it was better to lose the message. I couldn't imagine James' wrath if he discovered the stipulations I'd put in place.

James tore the note into tiny pieces and let the wind carry them away. "Come along, Mary," he said. "I think a visit to Dr. Brown is in order."

"No!" I said, trying to dig my heels in. "No, please! James!"

"I have tried to be reasonable with you," James said as he pulled me along. "But at every turn, you are determined to be a stubborn, willful girl. You cause your mother and I nothing but trouble!"

Anyone who was close enough to help me only looked away and went about their business. "I'm sorry!" I blurted out, desperate to soothe him. "I-I was foolish. I can see that now. I shouldn't have...I mean, it was wrong of me to write the message."

"I can never trust you again. The next time my back is turned, you'll go running off to see that consulting detective and wasting your money."

"No! I swear I won't go to Baker Street and I won't send Mr. Holmes a message." I held my breath, hoping it was enough to assuage my stepfather's anger. My last hope would be Mr. Holmes would bring his findings to me.

James' steps began to slow and when he stopped, he faced me. "Do you think I will believe you now?"

"I know your threats are not idle," I said, being completely honest. At least, about this. "I know what happens in those restful asylums. I promise I will behave. You have my word."

He raised an eyebrow, staring intently at my face. After a long moment, he nodded. "Then, I am satisfied you have finally learned your lesson," he said. Still, his grip did not loosen. "Now, we shall make our way home."

I kept up with his quick strides then. Part of me wanted to ask what had brought him to me, but I didn't want to risk him asking about my visit to Mr. Douglas. It would remain my one secret.

Weeks passed, and though the tension at home eased, nothing was ever the same. I did my best to be polite to James whenever I was in his presence. Mostly, I filled my time with my work and letters to my school friends, who had, in fact, responded to me. Every day, I hoped for some hint that Hosmer had returned, but nothing happened.

There was no note or message from Mr. Holmes. At first, I wondered if he'd been obliged to take on a more serious case. As the days passed, I was forced to conclude that he must have forgotten about me entirely. Surely, even if Mr. Holmes had found nothing, he would have contacted me to say so, wouldn't he?

I didn't even have the letters from Hosmer to comfort me. On my lowest days, I even began to doubt whether my romance had even happened. Once I had slept, though, I would chide myself for being weak and forgetting my promise to Hosmer.

No matter what, I would keep my word and be faithful.

After a few months of exchanging letters, my school acquaintance, Miss Rouillard, invited me to visit her. While she hadn't improved in the years since we had been in school, it was a relief to have someone to visit. Perhaps if I'd had anyone else to visit, I would have not been as willing to spend several hours at her house each week.

It was on one such visit I met a friend of Miss Rouillard, Miss Evangeline Carter, who was an outspoken but cheerful sort of girl. She was tall, slender, and so very fashionable. I wasn't sure what her family background was, but if Miss Rouillard accepted her, I could have not objections.

"It is refreshing to find someone else my age who hasn't jumped into marriage," Miss Carter said as she accepted a teacup from our hostess. "What is your excuse, Miss Sutherland, when so many other girls our age have settled down?"

While I longed to have someone to confide in, I didn't dare mention Hosmer. "My mother and stepfather do not like me to go out," I said honestly, though I did have a hundred pounds a year. "I have my typing to keep me busy, though."

"Oh, a career girl, are you?" Miss Carter asked, her blue eyes lighting up with interest. "Liz said you were an heiress."

Across the room, Miss Rouillard flinched at hearing herself so casually referenced. "I am, though I wouldn't say I'm wealthy exactly," I explained. "The interest of my inheritance is drawn by my stepfather to help the household. Anything I need is satisfied by my typing. I couldn't stand to be idle."

"Neither could I!" Miss Carter said emphatically. "But your situation is exactly why I have refused to meet any of the young gentlemen my parents try to throw my way. Why should I give up all my rights to a man?"

"Evangeline," Miss Rouillard said with a sigh. "You promised not to bring that up while you visited."

"Did I?" Miss Carter gave a light laugh. "I suppose I did, but I don't think Miss Sutherland is upset by me speaking my mind."

"Of course not," I hastened to say, puzzled by this forthright girl.

Miss Rouillard shook her head. "You are everything that is polite, Miss Sutherland, but you do not know the extent of Evangeline's...passion. Given the chance, she will speak for hours about the need for women's rights and votes."

I'd heard of the suffragette movement, though I hadn't taken the time to learn more than just passing details. From what I knew, there were some girls who took the matter very, very seriously.

"If a girl is interested in something, why shouldn't she have the evidence and passion to speak about it for hours?" Miss Carter asked cheerfully. "After all, a thing worth believing in is worth defending."

"I don't know why I tolerate you," Miss Rouillard said with another sigh. The fondness in her voice took away any sting her words might have contained. "Now, I would like to get to the point of my asking you here. I'm hoping you both will assist me in a little project."

"Oh, not another charity auction!" Miss Carter exclaimed with a dramatic expression on her face.

"Really, Evangeline, there can be no better use of our time and effort."

"I'd argue equal rights for women is just as important as education for orphans."

Befuddled, I glanced between them. "Well, we all must have our little projects," Miss Rouillard said primly. "I was hoping I would have your assistance at the auction and in organizing items to be auctioned off, Evangeline. You are so good with people."

As she sipped her tea, Miss Carter waved her free hand. Taking it as acceptance, Miss Rouillard turned her attention to me. "And I am hoping you will attend the auction and participate, Miss Sutherland," she said sweetly.

My immediate acceptance hung on my tongue. Here I would finally have the friendship of ladies my own age. Through them, I would be able to be away from my mother's house more, and thus away from James' control.

But I couldn't bring myself to say yes. "I would be happy to help in any way I can. What do you require? I can assist Miss Carter in organizing items to be sold."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure Evangeline will have that in order," Miss Rouillard said after a pause. "I was hoping to have your support during the auction. Some ladies are hesitant to bid on items they feel they can sew themselves. If they see you bid without such hesitation, I'm sure they will be more likely to participate."

She was only asking because she knew about my inheritance. Why else was I being asked to participate monetarily, but not with anything behind the scenes as Miss Carter had? There was an eagerness in Miss Rouillard's eyes that kept me on guard.

"On what date? You know my stepfather does not like to have me go about," I said slowly. "I would have to get his permission before I give my promise to anything."

"Oh, in two weeks. On Friday. I'm sure your stepfather wouldn't object to you helping a charity." Miss Rouillard's tone had become wheedling. "Say you'll help, Miss Sutherland. I'm sure you know the hardships faced by poor orphans."

"Yes, of course, I know." It had been all she talked of the last time I'd had tea with her. "Thank you for the invitation. I'll let you know if I am able to attend."

For a brief moment, my old school friend's lips turned down. "I see. I look forward to hearing from you that you'll be there. It is such an important cause, Miss Sutherland."

"How is Katherine, Liz?" Miss Carter asked, changing the subject. "I haven't seen her in months. Is she still set on writing a moving novel?"

"Unfortunately," Miss Rouillard said with a sigh. "She thinks she will be the next Jane Austen, and she is determined to remain locked in her room until she has completed her first manuscript. She will not listen to sense or reason. All because her heart was broken by that captain."

I breathed a sigh of relief to have attention taken off of me. It was a lowering realization that Miss Rouillard had only been associating with me because she hoped to benefit from my inheritance. Of course, I had used her name as a way to keep myself safe, so I suppose I was no better.

A half hour later, Miss Carter and I left together. "Which way are you going?" she asked when we were on the pavement. "Do you have a carriage or are you walking?"

Surprised by the question, I gestured to my right. "I planned on walking."

"Excellent. I will walk with you," she said brightly. "I hope Liz's enthusiasm didn't put you off this afternoon. She tends to overly enthusiastic when it comes to the charities she supports."

"Oh, no," I hastily assured her. "I mean, I was surprised. I'd hoped I could assist in other, more practical ways, but I understand she has things organized already. An extra pair of hands can be a hindrance in such cases."

"You're a good sort, Miss Sutherland," she said, looping her arm around mine. "How can it be we have never met before this?"

"Miss Rouillard and I lost contact with each other when we left school," I explained. "We've only recently reconnected through letters. I honestly expected her to have married by now."

"Yes, well, that's rather difficult when no one is good enough for the family," Miss Carter said, dropping my arm. "Miss Sutherland, I hate to sound paranoid but have you noticed the rather unscrupulous person who has followed us this entire block?"

Swiftly, I glanced over my shoulder. Sure enough, the man who had been my shadow every time I went out was there. "My apologies. He is not following us," I said with a sigh. "He is following me. My stepfather wishes to know my every move."

"Is the man your bodyguard then?" Miss Carter asked, raising an eyebrow. "Have you been threatened in some way?"

"No. Well, not precisely." My freedom had been threatened by my stepfather but it was hardly something I could come and say. What would she say if she knew I was watched so that if I did anything out of line, I would be sent to an asylum?

Miss Carter glanced at me and then shook her head. "I don't think I could stand to always be followed about."

"I would rather not, but my stepfather is insistent. He does not trust me."

"Oh? Have you done something to make your stepfather feel he cannot trust you?"

"In reality, no, but he seems to think I have," I said honestly. "So I endure having a shadow. Sometimes I pretend I am someone important, and it makes it a bit more bearable." I flushed as soon as I said the words. "That probably sounds childish."

"What is the purpose of an imagination if we do not use it now and again?" Miss Carter said with a laugh. She came to a stop at the corner. "Well, I'll have to leave you here. I hope we can talk again. I want to know all about what it's like to be a typing girl."

Few had ever taken an interest in my skill. "I'd be happy to tell you," I said, blushing with happiness. "There's not much to it, I'm afraid, so it would be a short conversation."

"Then, we will find other things to talk of as well!" Miss Carter set off down the cross street, waving her hand in farewell.

Pleased to have made what I hoped would be a friend, I leisurely made my way home.