"We probably should get up," Arthur said the following morning - or afternoon, he wasn't sure anymore - as they lay in Grace's bed, sharing a cigarette.

"Yeah, but I'm sore," she smirked, "I haven't done that in so long."

"Heh, me too."

"Urgh," she groaned as she slowly sat up and stretched her arms over her head.

"Those cougar scratches healed well," he said, brushing his fingers across the healed scars on her back.

"That's good," she looked back at him.

"Where did you get this one?" he sat up and touched another scar on her shoulder.

"Fell off my horse onto a branch."

"And these?" he lightly touched a few long scars below her jaw.

"An unfortunate incident." She turned to him. "Where did you get this one on your chin?"

"Got into a fight at a bar, guy took a swing with a broken bottle."

"Have you ever been in a bar without getting into a fight?"

"Once or twice," he joked. "What about back here?" Arthur brushed part of her hair aside at the back of her head, showing what looked to be another gunshot wound scar. "It looks recent."

"Oh, just another unfortunate incident," she said, leaning away and brushing her hair back over the scar.

"You seem to have a lot of those."

"Yeah, well, it is what it is," she started to crawl over him but he stopped her.

"You have too many scars," he frowned, touching the pink scars across her chest where she had been shot by her own arrows.

"And you don't have enough," she sat back, straddling his hips and ran her fingers across his stomach.

"You want me to have more scars?"

"No, I meant you don't have enough considering the life you lead."

"I suppose you're right there."

"Anyway, we need to get up," she crawled off him, opened the wardrobe, and started getting dressed, "I'll go get your clothes since I assume you don't want to stay naked all day."

He sat up and shrugged with a small smile. "Only if you want to."

"Heh, well, as much as I'd like to, I have things that need doing and I'd prefer to be clothed while I do them," she smiled back at him before heading outside.

Arthur watched her leave then fell back on the bed and closed his eyes, reliving the events from the night before and that morning. But what now? He couldn't leave the gang just like that, and she's already said she wouldn't go with them to wherever they escape. But, that was before last night.

No, even if she did escape with them, she wouldn't stay and he wouldn't keep her from leaving. But maybe once the gang was safe wherever they go, he and Grace can leave. See the world, as she's already been doing. He never imagined he might have the chance to leave the United States, even with all Dutch's talk about going to Tahiti. But now it actually seems possible.

His thoughts were interrupted by his clothes being dumped on his chest.

"Alright, time to get up, lazy bones," Grace said.

As he dressed, she stoked the fire and checked a pot on the stove, giving its contents a stir, before tying an apron around her waist. She started taking down some glass and ceramic jars from a nearby shelf and placing them on the table. When Arthur pulled his boots on, she ladled out some leftover stew from the pot into a dish and set it on the table for him. He sat and started eating, watching as she started measuring different ingredients from the jars in a large bowl.

"Aren't you going to eat?" he asked between bites.

"Yeah, but I have to do this first," she said, cracking a couple of eggs into the bowl, "We got a late start today."

"What are you making?"

"Sweet rolls," she replied, "I promised Sister Calderón I'd bake some for the church orphanage in Saint Denis."

"Oh. I thought you was Jewish."

Grace looked up at him. "So? They're not going to stop me from giving to the church orphanage just because I'm not a Christian."

"So how'd you meet that nun when you don't believe in God?"

She smirked a bit and continued mixing the dough. "It's a long story. I don't need to believe in God to talk to people, even nuns. And Sister Calderón is the loveliest one I've met. She-" Grace paused. "She has a gift of understanding. You could tell her anything and she has this way of knowing exactly how you feel."

"Hah, don't think that'd work for me."

"Oh, you'd be surprised." She placed a cloth over the bowl and set it near the fireplace. Arthur finished eating as she dished out some stew for herself and sat down.

"Never imagined you as the type to be so... so..." Arthur tried to think of the word.

"Domestic?"

"Yeah."

"Heh, I know. When I was a child, I never even dreamed I'd be doing things like this."

"So, I been wondering, if your family kicked you out when you were, you know, how did you get all that money?"

"From William."

"Who?"

Grace stopped eating and looked down at the table. "The man I was to marry."

"You mean the feller who cancelled your engagement because you got pregnant?" Arthur blurted out, surprised.

"I know you won't believe me, but he was a good man."

"But-"

"He was a good man and I will not hear otherwise!" she slammed her hands on the table and glared at him with such ferocity, Arthur now knew what it meant by 'if looks could kill'.

"Sorry," he knew he overstepped.

Grace sighed, "No, I'm sorry. You didn't know."

"But why did he give you money when he split after he got you pregnant?"

"It's a long story."

"Well, I ain't going anywhere."

She hesitated. "I haven't talked about him to anyone other than Sister Calderón."

"You don't have to, I was just curious."

"Is there anything in particular you want to know about him?"

"Well, how did you meet him?"

"Heh, at our engagement party," she smiled slightly.

"Wait, you were engaged to him before you met him?"

Grace nodded. "My parents had arranged for me to marry him because he was still unmarried but quite wealthy, so both of our families considered it financially beneficial. But he was a lot older than me and I thought it terribly unfair. I threw so many tantrums, I think I broke everything that could be broken in our house." She suddenly laughed. "Goodness, I was awful back then."

"I don't believe you."

"Oh, believe me. I was a terrible person. Maybe not 'robbing and killing' terrible, but terrible nonetheless. At least, until I met William."

"I'd like to hear about it."

Grace bit her lip, deep in thought, as she considered opening up about her past to Arthur. He reached forward to take her hand, encouraging her as she started to talk about the woman she used to be and the man who had changed her life.


/

Grace sat in the coach alongside her mother, picking at a loose thread in her dress. It was so unfair, why did she have to go to this party? Why was there even a party in the first place? Why did she have to meet the man she was to marry in front of so many people?

"I do hope you will behave tonight," her mother said as if she read Grace's mind. "I will not have another display of defiance in front of our guests. Your father is already furious having to summon the glazier. Again."

"It's going to be very dull," Grace mumbled.

"I don't care how dull you believe it to be, so long as you don't try to liven things up by your disobedience," her mother said strictly, "Here we are. Now, remember to smile. You are meeting your future husband, after all, so show everyone how happy you are."

Grace rolled her eyes and followed her mother out of the carriage. They had arrived at a grand manor, but she couldn't recall who actually lived there, nor did she care much. Perhaps she should try to not break anything, but only if no one angered her.

Once inside, they were about to head into the main ballroom when they were met by an older, portly woman.

"There you are," Mrs. Whitmore said, "Oh, everyone is eagerly waiting. You must be so excited, Miss Bellerose."

"Mother certainly is," Grace smiled fakely.

"Mr. Lawson is looking quite handsome," Mrs. Whitmore winked, "I'll have you announced at once." She hurried to the head butler by the ballroom door and whispered to him. He nodded and turned into the ballroom.

"Ahem, Mrs. Richard Bellerose," the butler announced as Grace's mother walked into the ballroom. Grace looked towards the front door, wondering if she could escape, but then Mrs. Whitmore pulled her forward.

"Remember to smile," she whispered loudly.

"Miss Grace Bellerose," the butler announced loudly as Grace walked in with the barest of smiles. The ballroom was large and full of people. An older man and woman stepped forward to greet her.

"Ah, the lovely Miss Bellerose, we have heard much about you," the man said politely.

"Yes, it is nice to finally meet you," said the woman.

Grace looked from one to the other, confused. "And you are?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Alfred Lawson," the man replied, looking slightly offended that Grace didn't recognise him, "William is our son."

"How nice for you."

"Yes, well, it's time to meet your future husband," Mr. Lawson then turned to the crowd. "William, step forward to meet your bride."

A tall man emerged from the crowd towards them. He had brown hair, neatly combed back, and wearing a navy blue tail coat and tan trousers tucked into shiny brown leather boots.

"Good evening, Miss Bellerose," he smiled at her politely and bowed.

"Mr. Lawson," she replied shortly. The sooner this was done, the better. She looked around at the crowd watching. What did they expect them to do now? It's not like the wedding was happening yet.

"You look lovely tonight."

"Thank you." To her relief, someone had cued the string quintet to resume playing so everyone began talking amongst themselves. She excused herself and tried to hurry out the door, but her mother grabbed her arm.

"Where do you think you are going?" she demanded.

"I need some air," Grace lied.

"You can go into the garden if you need air," Mrs. Bellerose gestured to the door leading out back. "I will not have you running out on your own engagement party."

"You arranged it!" Grace argued.

"Shh, will you please keep your voice down. Proper ladies do not raise their voices in such a distasteful manner."

"'Proper ladies do not raise their voices in such a distasteful manner'," Grace mocked her.

"You will behave yourself or else," Mrs. Bellerose hissed, pressing her nails hard into Grace's arm before letting go. She glared at her daughter before leaving to join some of the guests.

Grace glared at her mother's back before looking around the room before she spotted a servant with a tray of food. She hurried over, snatched a couple of the wheat crackers and cheese, stuffed them in her mouth, and headed towards the door leading to the garden. Perhaps there was a way to sneak out through there.

"Trying to leave your own party?" William stepped in between her and the door.

"Pfft, it's not my party, nor is it yours and you know it."

"You're right, there," he said, looking around at the crowd. "You do know why they arranged for us to wed."

"Because it's business," Grace sighed.

"Yes, but also because we are the odd ones in our respective families."

"I am not odd, how dare you say so."

"Of course not, I think you're an impertinent, repulsive child," his eyes crinkled in jest, "I meant that we are the only ones in our families to not yet be wed."

"Why haven't you married anyone yet?"

"I haven't met anyone I love enough to be married."

Grace snorted in contempt. "Don't be foolish, you don't marry for love."

William stared down at her. "That is the most tragic thing I have ever heard."

"Love is for silly people and silly books," she crossed her arms.

"It's a shame you feel that way."

Before either could speak further, Mrs. Bellerose had hurried over. "Grace, will you please not make that revolting noise. And stand up straight! We have very important guests here."

"Yes, Mother," Grace lowered her arms and straightened up.

"I do apologise, Mr. Lawson, for her behaviour tonight," Mrs. Bellerose smiled sweetly at William, "She was most disobedient this morning."

"A mother can only do so much," William nodded politely.

Mrs. Bellerose smiled again, then turned to Grace with a glare. "I will not be humiliated by your repugnant behaviour," she hissed before walking away to the other guests.

Grace stuck her tongue out at her mother's back and rushed out of the ballroom to the garden. It was so unfair! She kicked a pedestal hard and cried out in pain. She limped to the nearest bench to look at the damage. Maybe now she could go home.

"Are you alright, Miss Bellerose?"

She looked to see William had followed her. Rude. "Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you just tried to break your foot on a statue," he smirked.

"It probably is broken," she said, leaning forward to unbuckle her shoe.

"It is not broken."

"How do you know?"

"Because if it were broken, you'd still be screeching loud enough to wake the dead," he kneeled before her and gestured to her foot, "May I?"

She pulled her foot back. "No, how dare you!"

"I do have some medical training, having assisted in military hospitals during the war."

"You did?"

William nodded. She hesitated then slowly stretched her foot towards him. He carefully removed her shoe and looked over her foot. "You'll be fine. No need for amputation today," he added with a wink. Grace couldn't help but smile.

"Did you need to do that sort of thing?" she asked as she put her shoe back on.

"Unfortunately," he sat next to her on the bench, "And unfortunately, many did not survive. I was about your age at the time, it was terrible."

"Oh." She flexed her foot, surprised it now felt a lot better. "How old are you?"

"Forty-one."

"Why is your family just now arranging for you to be married?"

"They tried years ago, but I wanted nothing to do with the insufferable bores they set me up with."

"Tell them you want nothing to do with me and this can all be over."

"I intend on it," he stood up, "Now, shall we return to this dreadful engagement and pretend to enjoy it?"

"No," she remained sitting where she was.

"As you wish." He left her alone to mope for the rest of the evening in the garden.

/

Grace was sitting under her favourite tree, reading a book when one of the servants hesitantly approached.

"Um, pardon me, Miss Grace," she said quietly.

"Can you not see that I am busy?" Grace glared up at her. Stupid girl, she should know better. "Away with you!"

"Yes, Miss, but your mother calls for you," the servant curtsied slightly before rushing back to the house.

Grace rolled her eyes and stood up. What did Mother want now? She had been quite busy with the preparations for Grace and William's upcoming nuptials since clearly he did not do enough to refuse the engagement.

She found her mother in the main chamber along with Mrs. Whithouse.

"There you are, where have you been?"

"I was reading," Grace said, smiling politely at Mrs. Whithouse.

"What have you been reading, dear?" asked Mrs. Whithouse.

"'The Castle of Wolfenbach'," Grace held out the book.

"What have I told you about reading those horrid things?" Mrs. Bellerose snatched the book out of Grace's hands, "Mrs. Sharrow's boy read this same book and now he's wanting to marry that dreadful French girl." She scoffed.

"Oh dear, is that the girl who lives near the dockyard?" Mrs. Whithouse shook her head, "Awful creature. At least your daughters married well."

"I am not yet married," Grace pointed out.

"How old are you now, dear?" Mrs. Whithouse asked her.

"Nineteen."

"Goodness, what has taken you so long to find a suitor?" she demanded of Mrs. Bellerose, "Why, when I was ninteen, I was already running the household with two children."

"Oh, we have had inquiries but I feel Mr. Lawson is... ideal," Mrs. Bellerose seemed to struggle from making a face.

"Hm, yes, I have heard about that."

"Heard about what?" Grace asked.

"Never you mind. Now, Mr. Lawson will be around shortly, so why don't you go clean yourself up?"

"Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'? Because you're filthy from sitting outside!"

"No, I mean why is he coming here?"

"Your father has requested his presence in order to discuss business."

"And why do I have to be there?"

"Because Mr. Lawson will be taking you to a small engagement event presented by his family, very informal, and I expect you to make yourself presentable."

"Why?"

"Stop being so insolent and go clean yourself up!" Mrs. Bellerose demanded.

"May I have my book back?"

"Absolutely not, I will not have you reading this filth." Mrs. Bellerose turned and threw the book into the fire. Grace screeched and threw a nearby vase, shattering it across the floor, before stomping out of the room.

"My goodness, Mr. Lawson will have his hands full," Mrs. Whithouse said shortly as a maid quickly ran in to clean up the broken pieces.

Upstairs, Grace was yelling at her maid for taking so long in choosing a dress, even though the poor girl had already laid one out for her. By the time she was dressed and ready, Grace was in such a mood that she had already slapped her maid so hard she left scratch marks across the girl's face and threw the water urn out the window. Before she could stomp back downstairs, her mother intercepted.

"Will you please behave yourself today?" Mrs. Bellerose gripped her daughter's arm tightly. "This is very important to your father and I."

"What about me?"

"Well what about you? All you need to do is not go about in such a boorish manner. I raised you to be a proper lady, now please act like it." She turned and led the way down the stairs just as there was a knock on the door. The butler opened the door to allow William Lawson to enter.

"Good morning, Mrs. Bellerose, Miss Bellerose," he greeted hem politely.

"Afternoon, I think you'll find," Mrs. Bellerose sniffed.

"Ah, yes, my mistake," he looked over to Grace, "I just need to have a discussion with your father then we will commence to our engagement."

Grace said nothing but rolled her eyes and watched the butler lead William to her father's study. Her mother hissed at her to behave again before rejoining Mrs. Whitmore. Grace kicked over a pedestal, causing another vase to crash and break all over the floor, before going outside. A modest coach stood outside with the driver brushing the large bay horse.

"Good afternoon, Miss Bellerose," the driver tipped his hat to her, "I hope you are well?"

"That's none of your business!" she snapped.

"Apologies, Miss," the driver was surprised and turned back to the horse. She sat on a chair on the veranda, irritated at havng her entire day ruined.

Soon William was escorted out by the butler and he helped Grace into the coach. They rode in silence down the street and she watched her neighbourhood pass by.

"Having a bad day?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Always."

"Is it because of the engagement?"

Grace scoffed but didn't reply. William looked over at her for a few moments before knocking on the ceiling of the coach.

"George, change of plans, take us to the conservatory, please," he called out.

"Yes, sir," George the driver replied.

"Conservatory?" Grace inquired.

"You'll see," he smiled over at her.

"I thought there was a party we were to attend?"

"Oh, damn the party, all they want to do is congratulate each other for our upcoming wedding," William said, "I would much rather take you to the conservatory."

Grace couldn't help but be intrigued by the whole thing. She watched out the window as they continued through the city before turning down a road amid a large orchard. They stopped near a large, plain brick house between a small barn with paddocks and an even larger building made of brick and huge glass windows. William stepped out of the coach and helped Grace out.

"George, feel free to let Robbie have run of the paddocks and rest yourself," William said to the driver, "And send word back that we have been... delayed."

"Yes, sir," George nodded, tipping his hat.

William offered his arm to Grace and they headed toward the large glass building where they were greeted by a young man covered in dirt holding a rake.

"Afternoon, Mr. Lawson,and this must be Miss Bellerose," he nodded politely to Grace.

"Yes, Jacob. I hope you've been well?"

"Yes, sir."

"And your mother, how is she?"

"Much better, sir, thank you."

"Wonderful." He led Grace to the door.

"Why would you care about his mother?" she asked.

"She was ill and I offered to send a doctor to see her."

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"Why would I not?"

"But they're poor," Grace scrunched her nose in disgust.

"Do they not deserve to be in good health, even if it's of no fault of their own?"

Grace didn't say anything. Why should she care about the well-being of the poor? She had nothing to do with them.

"My dear, I have heard of your treatment of your own servants and I must say it distressed me."

"So?"

"So, I believe you could be more affable and I think you'll find they'll be more pleasant." he paused then lowered his voice. "They do talk, you know."

"Well of course they talk, don't be stupid."

"I mean they talk to servants of other households."

"How do you know?"

"Because I talk to our servants. If you ever want to know anything about anyone, talk to the servants. They know far more truths than you think," he then looked at her sternly, "And if we are to go through with this arrangement, I will not have a wife who treats the servants so poorly."

Grace remained silent. How could he speak to her like that? How could he believe she treats her servants poorly? Are they not given food to eat and clothing to wear and a bed to sleep in? If anything, they should be thankful. It's not her fault they're so stupid sometimes.

"So what is this place?" she changed the subject.

He smiled and opened the door to reveal a large room full of a variety of flowers and plants. She had never seen such a sight, it was so beautiful. William led her around, showing her the different flowers from all sorts of far away places she had never heard of. As they approached another door, one of the gardeners accidentally bumped into her. She whirled around, ready to chastise the offending individual, but William pulled her back gently.

"My apologies, Miss," the gardener apologised.

"Quite alright, uh, is it Mr. Cox?" William replied. The gardener nodded. "Please continue your excellent work."

"Yes, sir, have a good visit," the gardener turned, cut a pink peony from a nearby bush and handed it to Grace, "And apologies again, Miss, for bumping into you."

"Oh, um, thank you," Grace took the flower and watched the gardener return to work.

"See? You don't have to be nasty all the time," William said.

"I'm not!" she protested.

"Now you can't be a horrid, nasty girl in here," he warned, placing his hand on the doorknob.

"And what if I am?"

"I will set Mrs. Gunnarsson on you and I have every doubt you would survive," he smirked, "And believe me, I have watched men more powerful than you or I cower before her." He paused before adding, "I think I might anyway, get her to set you straight on how to treat people properly."

"Maybe you should learn to treat people properly," she crossed her arms.

"And how should I treat such a procacious impudent child such as yourself?" he demanded.

Grace glared at him before turning away. How dare he speak to her in such a manner. She didn't ask to be here. She threw the flower to the ground and crossed her arms.

"Grace," William said softly.

"What's in there?" she turned back, nodding to the door.

William smiled and opened the door, gesturing for her to enter. As she did, a swarm of butterflies fluttered up from the flowers and flew around. She watched in awe as the butterflies flitted around them before one landed on her hand. She carefully brought her hand closer to her face to get a closer look at its yellow-orange wings with black outlines and white spots.

"Limenitis archippus," William said.

"Monarch butterfly," Grace nodded.

"Actually, it's the Viceroy. See this stripe on its back wings? Only Viceroys have those, and they are also smaller than most Monarchs." He held up his hand which had a larger orange and black butterfly on it. "See?"

Grace smiled and suddenly felt overwhelmed. Her eyes began to fill with tears and when the butterfly flew off her hand, she burst out weeping. William embraced her and gently stroked her hair until she calmed down.

"Forgive me," she sniffled.

"Not at all," he took out a handkerchief and wiped the tears from her face, "You did say you were having a bad day. What would you have been doing if I hadn't shown up?"

"Reading."

"What were you reading?"

"It doesn't matter any more, my mother burned my book."

"Which book?"

"'The Castle of Wolfenbach'," Grace reached up to wipe another tear from her eye, "She thinks it's inappropriate."

"And what do you think?"

"I think I should read whatever I like."

William nodded and guided her silently out of the conservatory. "Shall we head back?"

/

That evening, Grace was told off by her mother and father for missing the informal engagement gathering, but she didn't pay much attention. She kept thinking about the time she spent at the conservatory and how it wasn't enough. It was lovely among the flowers and butterflies. She also thought of when William had hugged her, and how she realised no one had done so in such a caring manner for years.

She smiled to herself when she sat in her bedroom, watching the maid lay out Grace's nightwear. She was visibly nervous, her hands shaking as she laid out the nightgown.

"What's your name?" Grace asked.

The maid looked at her, startled. "Um, Eleanor, Miss."

"How long have you been in our employment?"

"Six years, Miss."

"Oh." Grace frowned slightly. Had she really gone so long without learning this girl's name? She didn't need to before, the maid was just always there. She watched Eleanor pause as she noticed Grace staring at her. "Please accept my apologies."

Eleanor stopped. "For what, Miss?"

"For scratching you this morning."

"Oh, it's fine, Miss, it doesn't hurt." Eleanor smiled slightly before beginning to tend to Grace's hair. Eleanor carefully removed the hairpins and brushed her fingers through Grace's hair to untangle it. When she reached for the silver hair brush, Grace grabbed her hand.

"Have I been an insufferable wretch all these years?" Grace asked.

"Um, I wouldn't use those words exactly," Eleanor went red as she tried to choose her words carefully, "I know you have a lot on your mind and sometimes you need to, um, release your inner turmoil somehow."

"So yes, I have been." Grace released Eleanor's hand. Eleanor brushed Grace's hair, looking very nervous. "I will try to be better."

"Yes, Miss."

Grace watched Eleanor visibly relax a bit as she continued. Perhaps William was right.

/

Grace didn't see William again until another gathering almost a month later. She did try to be nicer, but still she was so furious of being at constant battle with her own parents and the engagement that she would take out her anger on the servants. While Eleanor felt the brunt less than the others, she still had to dodge a few thrown statuettes.

An afternoon tea party had been arranged at the Lawson house, a huge dwelling near the outskirts of the city. William was there to greet them and took Grace by the arm so everyone could congratulate them yet again. She couldn't understand how he could be so polite to everyone who was ruining his life. She looked around to see if she could sneak out at some point, and maybe break a few windows on the way. She didn't care if this was her future husband's house or not.

"If you're going to break any windows, please avoid those three on the second floor," William said quietly, gesturing to the house.

"How did you know I was thinking of breaking them?" she asked, surprised.

"I saw you eyeing them," he smirked slightly.

"And why should I avoid those particular windows?"

"Those are my rooms and I would prefer to keep it free of broken glass."

"Then those will be the first to go."

He chuckled to himself then leaned closer to her. "If you could be anywhere else right now, where would it be?"

"The conservatory," she said immediately, "I think about the butterflies all the time."

He nodded. "Let's go then."

"What?"

"Let's go to the conservatory," he took her hand and led her out of the garden. She looked to see if anyone noticed, but no one seemed to. As they rounded the front of the house, George drove up with the coach. He greeted them politely as William helped Grace in, then they were on their way.

They had barely come to a stop at the conservatory when Grace jumped out of the coach. She didn't bother waiting for William and instead rushed to the glass building.

"Afternoon, Miss Bellerose," the gardener greeted her. What was his name again? Mr. Cox? Oh, it didn't matter at that moment.

"Hello!" she said as she opened the door and stood inside, taking in all of the different scents. She then ran to the butterfly section and carefully opened the door. They were already fluttering about and she walked slowly among them, holding her hand out to let a few of them rest. There seemed to be many varieties and she wanted to learn about all of them.

She looked to see if William had followed her, but he hadn't. Part of her was glad he didn't follow her in, allowing her to enjoy the butterflies without interference.

After some time, she reluctantly left, and found William standing by the large brick house.

"Enjoy yourself?" he asked with a smile.

"Yes, I only left to see if you were still here," Grace struggled to control her excitement.

"Of course I am," he picked up a basket by his feet, "Care for a little picnic? We didn't have a chance to enjoy anything earlier."

Grace nodded, now realising she was quite hungry. He held out his arm for her to take and led her behind the house along a path through a hedged garden.

"Who lives here?" she asked.

"The caretakers and gardeners," he replied.

"Oh. So who owns it?"

"I do. Though, Mrs. Gunnarsson is boss around here and she can be a very pleasant woman so long as you stay on her good side."

"So no one of any importance lives here?"

"I think you'll find the caretakers and gardeners are of extreme importance, are they not?" he gestured around them, "None of this would be possible without them."

"Oh. I never thought of it that way before."

"There are a lot of people who you don't think twice about who make it so your life is bearable. The cooks, the cleaners, and I'm sure you didn't put on this lovely dress all by yourself today."

Grace didn't say anything but thought of earlier that day when she had deliberately made it more difficult for her maid, Eleanor, to help her dress. Goodness, she really was horrible.

"Don't fret too much," he squeezed her arm with his, "Just enjoy yourself today."

She nodded and they continued through an apple orchard before finally emerging to a small lake. There was a dock with a small rowboat tied to it and some ducks swimming around. William led the way to under a willow tree where a blanket was already laid out.

"Did you plan this?" she asked.

"What on earth gave you that idea?" he asked with a smile.

"Your driver was ready to go, you just happened to have a picnic basket, and this is already here," she narrowed her eyes at him.

"I thought it would be far more enjoyable than yet another dreadful party."

She sat down and watched some of the ducks make their way towards them as William unpacked the basket and sat next to her. He passed her a couple of small sandwiches and started eating his own. She looked him over as he ate, wondering what he was thinking about at that moment. He didn't notice her staring until after he had eaten, throwing the extra bread crumbs to the nearing ducks.

"Not hungry?" he asked, gesturing to her uneaten food.

"Why are you being so kind to me?"

"Why not?"

"Because I'm a horrible wretch of a person."

"No, you're not."

"But I am!" she threw her sandwiches down and tried to fight off the tears forming in her eyes, "Just this morning I threw things at Eleanor when she didn't even deserve it! Mother says I'm the way I am because I'm all wrong and I can't do anything right and I'll never be as important as my sister and-" Grace began to sob. William embraced her and held her close.

"Why on earth would she say such a thing?" he asked, stroking her hair gently.

"Because I'm... oh, I'm not supposed to let anyone know," she pulled away from him, wiping her face with her hands.

"That you're left-handed?"

"What? How did- Who told you?"

William chuckled. "You primarily use your left hand when most would use their right."

"I tried! I tried to be right-handed, even after they broke my hand, but I can't help using my left hand! I tried to do everything they ask of me and still I fail! What's wrong with me?"

"Oh, darling, there's nothing wrong with you," he took her left hand in his and looked it over, running his fingers over hers. "I think it's dreadful what they did to you."

"I don't even understand why it's so deplorable to be left-handed," she sniffled.

"Depending on who you talk to, it's considered bad luck or evil, but I don't believe any of it," he kissed her hand.

"Maybe it is bad luck," she pulled her hand away, "Or maybe I really am evil."

"I'm sure some would see that, but I don't," William gently cupped her chin to look at him, "You have kindness and intelligence in your eyes, but you lacked the rearing to bring it out."

"It would have been the same as you."

"You can't change the way you were raised, but you can change for the better and you have already begun, which is far more than most would have done."

Grace looked into his eyes, those kind, lovely brown eyes, her heart beating faster in her chest as she thought he might kiss her, but he didn't, much to her disappointment. Instead he leaned over to the picnic basket.

"I have something for you," he said, pulling out a book and handing it to her, "Don't let your mother see it."

She looked down at the brand new copy of 'The Castle of Wolfenbach' in her hands, smiling and trying to blink away the tears that were forming again.

"I haven't read it, but I hear it's awful," he said with a jovial smile as he moved closer to her again.

"It is, but I love it," she sniffed, hugging the book close to her chest.

"Will you read me some of it?"

She nodded, opened the book as William sat closer, and began to read aloud. "'The clock from the old castle had just gone eight...'"

/

William called for Grace often, taking her to the theatre and concerts, but mostly to the conservatory. She made more of an effort to be nicer to the servants, much to their surprise. She regularly conversed with Eleanor, discovering her to be far more interesting than she could ever imagine. But mostly Grace looked forward to her meetings with William, enjoying his company no matter where they were.

One evening, he took her to the conservatory and they rowed out to the middle of the lake, coloured in pinks and oranges from the setting sun. Grace lowered her hand into the water, swishing it around.

"Careful nothing bites you," William said. She quickly pulled back her hand and he laughed. "Not to worry, there are fish, but none that will bite you." He stopped rowing and reached into his pocket, taking out a small pouch. He opened it and held it out to her. "Peppermint?"

"Thank you," she took a piece of candy and popped it into her mouth. It was delightfully sweet.

"I never tire of watching the sun set," William said, looking at the western sky.

"It is pretty." They watched the colourful sky start turning to navy blue as the sun set lower. "Why aren't there any trees or anything on that side? Or do you not own that part?"

"I do own it, but I haven't decided yet what to put there. What do you think?"

"Why would you ask me?"

"You clearly enjoy coming here, and if we are to be wed then you should have a say in what may or may not be built here."

Grace looked from William back to the empty lot across the lake. "A house."

"A house?"

"Yes! Not too big, of course, but big enough for us."

"A house it is," he smiled at her, "I'll have it arranged straight away."

Grace smiled and looked across at the empty lot, imagining a small house where she could live with William and their children. She was already learning to cook and she could learn to clean and mend and do all those things. She then noticed William staring at her.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked.

"No," he said quietly.

"May I ask a question?"

"Of course."

"Do you want to marry me?"

"Yes."

"No, I mean, we have to get married, but do you actually want to?"

He leaned forward, taking her hands in his, looking deep in her eyes. "Yes, I do want to marry you."

"But why? Everyone still says I'm a horrid, nasty girl."

"Where did you hear that?"

"From Bertha, our head cook. She's been teaching me how to cook and I asked her and she said even your family thinks I'm horrible."

"That's because they don't get to see what I see," he smiled at her, "You are the most intelligent, strong-willed woman I have ever met, and it is no wonder you lash out when you feel restrained. I had initially bought this land so I could have somewhere to escape if we were to be wed, but now I realise I bought it for you."

"But-"

"Grace, the moment you realised I was not going to order you around and let you do what you truly wanted, you were so much happier. I had thought you were a naturally bad-tempered wretch of a girl, but you were just unhappy being told what to do and how to conduct yourself all the time. While my family and perhaps others may think you're terrible, I think you're delightful."

She bit her lip to keep herself from bursting into tears. When did he become so wonderful?

"Grace?" he reached up to gently wipe a tear away from her cheek.

Grace leaned forward and kissed him. He pulled her into his lap, gently rocking the boat as he did so, but never breaking the kiss. She felt so... so... she couldn't think of the right word. 'Happy' didn't sound big enough. Neither did 'enraptured'. Perhaps all of the synonyms mixed together could describe what she was feeling.

They slowly and reluctantly pulled out of the kiss, taking a moment to catch their breath.

"I think we better head back," William whispered, "Before we get ourselves into trouble."

Grace nodded and sat back in her seat as he rowed them back to the dock. The sky was dark and full of bright stars now, and the moon lit their way back through the orchard.

Before they emerged from the trees, William stopped and kissed her again. Grace felt like she might burst, she never wanted it to end. But to her disappointment, it did. He promised he would call for her the following afternoon. She agreed, though tomorrow was so far away

/

The next few months were filled with more gatherings to supposedly celebrate Grace and William's engagement, although they both knew full well it was just an excuse for their respective families to boast of their social status. They would attend long enough to greet everyone, then sneak away for clandestine kisses which she could never get enough of.

It hadn't taken long for quick kisses to become more intimate, the first time being after an evening picnic on the lake when she told him she loved him and he had replied the same. She didn't think it was possible to adore anyone as much as she did William.

One morning, Grace was dressing with Eleanor's help, but her stay didn't seem to fit properly. Eleanor loosened the strings as Grace wondered aloud why it was too small.

"Pardon me for saying, Miss, but you have been spending a lot of time with Mr. Lawson," Eleanor said quietly.

"What are you saying?"

"Perhaps you are, um, with child."

Grace's eyes widened and her hand immediately went to her belly. Could she really be pregnant? It did feel rounder, but perhaps that was just her imagination. A wave of emotions rushed over her before settling on happiness.

/


Grace suddenly burst out crying and Arthur quickly rounded the table to hold her. He let her sob into him and waited for her to continue.

"William was so happy," she sniffled, "But our families were not. We weren't to be married for at least another year, and we tried to move the date up, but our families were afraid for their reputation. Even if we were wed much sooner than the planned date, the arrival of the baby only a few months later could've destroyed him."

"Bit of an overreaction," he scoffed.

"I know it sounds ridiculous to you, but social standing was a big deal and William's business and reputation depended on it. I mean, investments in his company increased after our engagement was announced. But my getting pregnant out of wedlock could've ruined everything. And even though he really was a good person, he also grew up in the upper class and he couldn't just walk away from that, even for me. So his brother forced him to not only break off the engagement but also tell everyone I had relations with another man which resulted in my pregnancy. I know William would never say such a thing, but it didn't matter. Everyone else spread that around. My own family disowned me for shaming them, even though they knew it was William's.

"He did give me a bit of money when I had to leave so I wasn't completely disadvantaged. I ended up being taken in by Eleanor's mother. I had no idea how to take care of myself. I couldn't cook much or clean or sew or even really dress myself." Grace suddenly laughed and hid her face in her hands. "Good lord, what you must think of me now."

"I think you lived a ridiculous life," Arthur couldn't help but laugh too.

"I did, didn't I?"

"So what happened?"

"I learned to take care of myself. And while Mrs. Brown was happy to teach me everything I needed to know, she couldn't afford to keep doing so. Eventually I had to go find my own way."

"Why couldn't you have gone to that conservatory?"

"I tried, but it had been sold. No one was there and I was chased off."

"How could William have sold it?" Arthur asked angrily.

"I don't think he knew," she said quietly. "But looking back, I see that I was being forced to leave the city. So I ended up finding work on a farm for a while and that's what I did. Just wandered from farm to farm, helping out with what I could in exchange for a place to sleep and food to eat. It didn't matter that I was pregnant, they only cared if I could work. I ended up in Canada and it was there I was on my way to the next farm when I went into labour."

"All alone? Jesus."

"Yeah," she looked down at her hands. "I didn't even know I was pregnant with twins. But they came out all grey and quiet and still. I must've been near a reservation because some Indian men out hunting found me, brought me and my babies back to their village. Their tribe had a burial ceremony for them and nursed me back to health. They taught me how to fish, how to hunt, how to survive."

"So where does William come back into this?"

"When I was able, I returned to New York. Even though we had parted, I felt William still deserved to know what happened to the children. But then I learned he had been killed a few months earlier in a coach robbery. Gave them everything he had on him, and they shot him anyway," Grace's voice quivered as she fought back more tears. "Then I found out he had written up his will some time after we were engaged and he never changed it."

"Clearly he still loved you since he left you something."

"Everything."

"Everything?!"

Grace nodded. "His brother was so angry. He had been trying to get his hands on William's assets ever since his death, but he couldn't do it legally. And apparently he tried to just take everything anyway, but breaking the law didn't sit well with the upper class then either. William's good friend was the will's executor and one of the very few who believed that I hadn't been with someone else, so he helped me."

"Jesus. That must've ruffled some feathers."

"It sure did. I even got William's shares in his company. But I sold them as well as William's other assets to his brother after I said he'd never have to see me again."

"How much were the shares?"

She paused. "A lot. It was enough for my family to reach out and suddenly want to see me again."

"Did you go see them?"

"Yes. I spent a few days with them while I tried to figure out what I was going to do. Then I left and never saw them again."

"Good. They sound like rotten people."

"They were. But William..." Grace sniffled, "He was the good one. He didn't deserve to be killed."

"I'm sorry," Arthur said quietly, hugging her again. As he did, he couldn't help wondering how often she still thought of William. Was she thinking of him now, wishing Arthur was William?

"What's wrong?" she asked, pulling away.

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me," she frowned at him for a moment, "Do you think I see William when I'm with you?"

"Well..."

"Because I don't. You are so much different from him."

"Worse, you mean."

"Heh, in a way, I suppose, but you're-you're-" she paused and smiled, "You're indescribable."

Arthur burst out laughing. "Well, I'll take it." He kissed her on the forehead.

"Well, you are a fantastic man and I'm glad to have met you."

"Good thing you started following me, huh?"

Grace smirked. "How could I not?" She returned to the table, cleaned up their dishes, and retrieved the cloth-covered bowl. Arthur watched as she sprinkled flour on the table, dumped out the dough, and started to knead it.

So, do you keep anything of William to remember him? Like a picture or something?"

"Oh, no, back then, photographs weren't- I mean, I never got one." she stopped kneading, wiped her hands on her apron, and went over to one of her bookshelves. "I did drawings, though." She picked out a couple of journals, flipping through them until she found what she was looking for, and handed it to him. The pages seemed so old and frail he was afraid to touch them. On the yellowed page was a few sketches of a man with short hair and sideburns, and wearing a coat with a high collared shirt and cravat.

"Liked the old-fashioned look, huh?"

"Yeah, guess you could say that," she said, taking back the book and looking at the drawings before closing it and returning it to the shelf.

"You miss him?"

"Would it bother you if I did?"

"Nah."

"I know it seems silly to miss someone after he's been gone for so long." She paused and looked at him. "But you still miss Mary, right? And Eliza and Isaac?"

"I suppose."

"Of course you do," she resumed kneading the dough, "It doesn't bother me, you know. Actually, I'd be more bothered if you didn't miss them."

He watched her knead for a short bit before she started breaking off pieces and shaping them into rolls before placing them in a tray. "Can I help?"

"You can go check the horses," she said with a small smile.

Arthur nodded and left. He knew he didn't need to check on them, they had already been fed and watered. Grace obviously needed a little time to herself, especially after opening up about so much. He sat on a log, took out his own journal, and started drawing her cabin. She had come such a long way and while he was sorry she had lost her first love, he was glad she had found him.