Chapter 1

"Life is infinitely stranger than anything the mind could invent"

Many people found Emily Messenger to be a remarkable girl. She didn't conform to the standards set for women of her time or stature. The thing she hated most of all was the ridiculously frivolous ladies she was required to socialize with and the gowns that she wore to the balls.

It was the Twenty-Third of December, Eighteen Sixty-Nine. Her gown was the deepest color her father would allow, a deep burgundy red, with a silver drape across her shoulders. She had only come as a favor to her father, since her mother had passed away when she was little and she didn't want him to have to find her a chaperone for the evening. More often than not she would find a young Lieutenant to entertain her with grandiose stories of valor and courage, until it became improper to talk to a man alone. Now, she would usually wander into the library, find a book, and sit on the periphery of the room. Tonight was no exception. She pulled a black leather - bound book off the shelf with the name E.A. Poe inscribed on the spine.

Emily settled herself on a lounge, tucking her skirt under her legs. She presented a pretty picture with her usually unruly hair perfectly coiffed and her delicate hands holding the large volume. (Not that her hands were that delicate, the book was just very large.) Tonight was the same as most, and as of yet, no one had approached her. She turned the page of the old volume almost reverently, only pausing slightly to look up when a young officer approached her.

"May I help you captain?" She asked pleasantly.

"Lady Messenger? Ma'am" She made a courteous bow.

"Yes, Captain." She nodded her head.

"I'm Captain Ian Trethewy of the 31st. Would it be alright if I asked you to dance?" She nodded and stood, brushing her skirt as she went. Most people would have found a woman with the title of lady, unmarried at the age of 18 almost inconceivable, but Emily didn't care. She didn't want to marry for money or politics, and she doubted she'd ever find someone she loved enough she would want to marry. Then again, Ian was kind of striking.

"Pardon me if I seem rude, but did your friends put you up to this?" Ian laughed quietly and shook his head.

"No Ma'am, I put myself up to this." Emily put her hand in his and rested the other one on his shoulder.

"Very well then." Emily was by no means ugly or homely in any way. In fact, she was quite the opposite, long and graceful, but powerful, and quite honestly, most men found her quite an intimidating creature, especially when she was mad. All they had to do was ask Lt. Crabbe of the 22nd.

She had high cheekbones and glittering green eyes with an almost olive complexion.

"I don't know what they were talking about, I find you to be quite pretty." Ian said, trying to start a conversation.

"I am?" Emily asked, almost self consciously.

"Yes, I'd go so far as to call you beautiful." A sudden rush of pink tinged her cheeks.

"Really?"

"Yes." The song ended and Ian took a respectful step back.

"Come walk with me?" Emily asked, offering her hand. Had Ian been any less of a man, he would have run screaming at the thought of being alone with Lady Messenger, but she seemed to like him well enough.

An hour later would find Ian and Emily back in the library, and Emily in the middle of telling a long winded tale from her childhood antics, with Ian doubled over laughing.

"So that's why he's so afraid of you!" Ian exclaimed through bursts of laughter.

"Yes... not to mention what Natalie did to him, I'm surprised he didn't run sooner, because once you see Hilda, you know your place." Ian laughed and glanced at her face again. She'd managed to tell most of the story in a deadpan, but nearing the end she broke into a grin that lit up her entire face.

"Emily! There you are!" Ian and Emily both looked up like naughty school children as her father entered the room.

"Father!" Emily said, slightly surprised as several other men filed in behind him.

"I'd been wondering where you'd gotten too." He looked over at Ian. "And who is this?"

"Ian Trethewy, captain with the 31st." Her father nodded as she introduced him.

"Lord Richard Messenger, my Father." Both men made courteous bows. Emily laughed airily.

"It's a pleasure to meet you sir." Ian said. Emily's face had fallen back into it's serious mask.

"Is my daughter behaving herself?" Richard asked jokingly.

"She's being a perfect lady, I can assure you sir." Ian said seriously.

"Somehow I doubt that." Richard said jovially.

"But no matter, I'll leave you two to your stories. Just make sure she doesn't tell you the one about the canary and the riding crop, that one will... just don't," Richard exited the room, the other men following

"Well, that was an odd sight," one of his peers said.

"Odd indeed. I don't recall ever seeing her smile before."

"Ever since your wife died, she's always been such a solemn little thing."

Richard nodded. It was always a pleasure when Emily smiled, because she seemed to just light up a room with her mere presence when she was happy. It was something Richard rarely saw. Only when Gareth or Natalie did something to make her happy, did she grace a room with her smile. Richard almost felt sorry for Ian, getting the full force of Emily's smile the first time he met her. But then again, if he could make her smile like that, Richard wouldn't object to having him for a son-in-law. He shook his head. 'They've only just net, knowing Emily, she'll find another fancy in a week or so. but then again, she hasn't ever really fancied anyone has she. Plenty of men and boys had taken a fancy after her, but she was never quite happy with them,' he thought.

"What about a canary and a riding crop?" Ian was thoroughly confused.

"It's a very bad joke." Emily shook her head.

"May I hear it?"

"No. Maybe some other time." Emily smiled kindly. Ian smiled back. They both laughed. A clock struck the half hour in the night.

"Half after eleven." Ian remarked.

"Natalie will be getting worried." Emily glanced around the room.

"Who's Natalie?"

"My best friend." Emily stood up, startling Ian.

"What is it?" he asked worriedly.

"It's getting rather late, would you do me the honor of escorting me home?"

Ian stood up. "It would be my pleasure."