Summer 1889, Tewkey POV

Two months later and Tewkey was confident that news of his - rather awkward but illuminating - midnight rendezvous with his fiancée, had not reached his mother or the elder Mr. Holmes. Sure, he had had to charm his way past a maid or two, and give the younger Mr. Holmes a bottle of whiskey for his quick thinking, but he somehow escaped the "You must marry the girl at once!" talk from Uncle Whimbrel.

Not that he had really debauched Enola, had he? He had acted improprietously towards her, and his conscience told him that he should be more careful in the future, but a girl wasn't completely ruined by a little firkytoodling, right?

He had thought about it a lot since that night, especially how it would be brought up the next time they talked. Not that they had had any chances to do so, with Enola being constantly busy with her studies and work, and when they did get to meet, it was always under the watchful eyes of Julia who seemed extra suspicious of him.

Tewkey was enjoying the summer evening air while walking back to his bachelor lodgings off Euston Square, from the flower markets he liked to frequent when he heard footsteps closer to him than he had expected.

Then when he was about to turn around to see what was happening, suddenly the jacket that he was wearing was tugged halfway down his arms, and a fist flew at his cheek. He winced at the pain and looked around for any bystanders who could come to his aid, but somehow the dark Bloomsbury Street was quiet, and he had no one to call out to.

"Just give us your coin, lad," a voice growled in Tewkey's ear as its owner grabbed at his collar, "And we won't cut that pretty face of yours."

He knew better than to fight a mugging, especially when use of a knife was being threatened. "There is a wallet in my breast pocket," he managed to keep his voice even, "All the money I carry is in there."

The second man, or perhaps the third, tugged his jacket the rest of the way off in search of the wallet.

"Hiding this lovely piece, were you?" One of the men accused as he bent to pick up the monogramed watch that had fallen from his jacket, "Just like a toff to hide his money."

Tewkey realised the knife had been no bluff as it cut around his bicep.

"Tell your precious Queen we said hello," the man with the knife growled, "Best get going boys, let's not see the gallows tomorrow."

And as suddenly as they had appeared, the three men ran of down the street, leaving Tewkey in his vest, moneyless, and bleeding.

He was about to continue his walk back to his lodgings when a figure who appeared to be a paperboy ran out from a nearby alleyway, attempting to surreptitiously pursue his attackers. She could have fooled anyone, except him.

"Enola," he yelled, "They have knives!"

His disguised fiancée whipped around so quickly that her brown cap almost fell off, allowing a few strands of her long hair to fall around her shoulders. Before he could fully take in her alarmed state, she was running towards him and grabbing him by the shoulder, pulling him toward an alleyway on the on the opposite side of the street to the one she came. Tewkey tried to speak but she continued to drag him along, through two warehouse doors into what he guessed was the foreman's office.

"Viscount Tewkesbury, Marquess of Basilwether, you have just blown my cover," she whisper-yelled in a tone that made Tewkey know she was very frustrated with him, and then turned to a tone that more resembled worry, "These are dangerous men, and they are not as singular as it may seem."

Ever the casual fellow, he had to ask, "More dangerous than bowler-hatted hitmen?" and then added with a twinge of sadness, "Or gun-wielding grandmothers?"

She grabbed his wrist and looked into his eyes, "Yes Tewkey, these men want a republic by any means necessary," she answered emphatically, "Not just your life is on the…"

Enola stopped in the middle of her sentence, seeming to have noticed something he hadn't.

"Someone's outside," she whispered, throwing her hand over his mouth knowing he was about to speak, "If it's the same group, I wouldn't put killing both of us past them."

Tewkey watched silently as Enola scanned the room, seeming to notice a smaller wooden door to her right, and quickly braced himself to be once again dragged along by his arm. The door led not to another room, as he had expected but a rather crammed broom cupboard. So crammed he had to pull Enola to his chest to stop himself from knocking her over as he shut the door behind them, just moments before the door into the office opened.