The day with Lady Elizabeth was not as saccharine as Eleanora had predicted—all she really had to do was carry the shopping bags and occasionally advise the girl on what to buy. Easiest job she had ever taken.

The best part was that it had taken the whole day. Eleanora had just seen Sebastian once, in the morning, and he had behaved coolly indifferent to her—just like the old days, before they had gotten married—before he had tortured her, before she had been bound to Phantomhive.

Before her second wedding, she would have done anything to return to those days of mutual tolerance and acceptance. But now she wasn't so sure. She had been kissed for goodness' sakes. And every woman knows how difficult it is to return to the status quo once one has been kissed.

She wasn't too anxious to return to Phantomhive—actually, she would have been perfectly happy to not have gone back to Phantomhive at all. She sat in the carriage, dreading the return and only listening to the Lady with half an ear. She had bought some kind of blue ring for Ciel in some kind of sleazy store and was gushing over it.

They reached a spot of traffic—construction on the Underground, probably. Nothing too major; over in a bit. Eleanora hid a yawn behind her hand and realized that she hadn't heard the Lady speak in two minutes.

Elizabeth loved talking, so her being silent meant one of two things: she was either upset, or in trouble. And when Eleanora looked around the carriage and noticed that the door was open, she immediately assumed the worst.

She got out of the carriage, quickly paid the driver, and ran off into the night, calling for the Lady. She hadn't gone very far when she noticed a toy shop in the distance.

Toy shops aren't at all rare in London—in fact, they're as widespread as the common garden rock—but this toy shop was unique in that it had a man with an unconscious Lady Elizabeth slung over his shoulder.

"HEY!" Eleanora shouted and ran for the shop. "HEY! STOP! STOP AT ONCE!"

She flew through the door and tried kicking the man down. It didn't work, mostly because when her foot came into contact with his back, she realized that there was something wrong.

Most people's backs are slightly soft and fleshy. This is considered normal.

This man's back was strange and hard, like kicking a lump of iron.

"Damn!"

It is unknown what Eleanora meant by this particular "damn"—even she didn't really know why she had said it. Perhaps it was due to the shock of feeling a non-human back against her foot.

Or maybe it was because the man who was kidnapping the Lady was uncommonly handsome.

His hair was a light rust color; his eyes were a beautiful amethyst; his skin was pearly and flawless, like porcelain. His movements were strange and jerky, so Eleanora figured that she could take him on and win. She sprang to her feet and tried kicking him again, this time in the face.

She didn't know how it happened, but he was able to dodge the kick and appear suddenly behind her. He chopped the back of her neck with his hand and she fell unconscious into his arms.

Sebastian received the phone call a few minutes after he received the letter. He took both upstairs to his young Master.

"Elizabeth's disappeared?" Ciel asked.

"Yes—and so has Eleanora," he grudgingly added as an afterthought.

"Well, then, we'd better go find her—them, I mean."

"First you should look at this."

Ciel opened the letter and quickly read it—it was about a new case regarding young, kidnapped girls.

"Do you suppose that…that Elizabeth is one of the victims?"

"Possibly, my Lord," Sebastian said, only he didn't really see how Eleanora could also have been a victim—she was hardly a girl of twelve.

"Alright then," Ciel sighed and stood up. "Sebastian, your orders: go and find any information on the kidnapped girls. Question everyone who knew them and compile a suspect list. Understood?"

"Perfectly, sir."

"Good. Meanwhile, I have business of my own to attend to."

Sebastian nodded and disappeared into the night. His heart was beating quickly, though he didn't know if it was out of fear or irritation—probably irritation.

"That…WOMAN!" he thought as he ran. "I tell her to do whatever she wants, and what does she immediately do? Go and get into trouble!"

But, really, wasn't that always the way with humans?