Huge thanks to everyone for the great comments and feedback on the last chapter. Your thoughts are always good to read and help shape the story. I enjoyed writing this chapter. I hope you enjoy reading it. Let me know what you think.

Tommy looked up as Mosley entered the room. He was already on edge about the evening ahead. He needed Mosley's signature so he could pass on the proof to Younger that Mosley as indeed involved with the fascists. He needed to impress the great and the good of London society who were gathered in his house. And he was also fully aware of Michael and Gina in the room, no doubt plotting his demise. But the minute Mosley appeared in the dining room, every thought, concern and worry dropped out of Tommy's head and his only focus became Rose.

Despite his usual unfailing ability to keep his face expressionless no matter what feelings were swirling inside him, Tommy was unable to control it this time. His mouth fell open slightly and his eyes widened at the sight in front of him.

His youngest sister, barely eighteen, clung to his enemy's arm looking like a high class whore. She wore a blood-red satin shift dress which clung to her body all the way to her ankles, a slit up one leg to her mid-thigh. It was backless and had a low cowl neck with thin jewel-encrusted shoulder straps which barely held the dress up. Her auburn hair had been slicked back away from her face and tied in a harsh bun at the nape of her neck, a few strands free which stood out against the paleness of her skin. Her make-up had been applied heavily and her rouged cheeks and red lips somehow made her look even younger. Tommy had a sudden image of Rose as a three year old, bursting into the room, her face smudged with make-up she'd found in Polly's room. She had bright red lip stick smeared from her lips across one cheek and had rubbed rouge all over her face including her forehead. She giggled and danced across the room with a feather boa she'd also taken from her aunt's room. Tommy and John had laughed at her and called her the prettiest thing they've ever seen. Polly hadn't laughed when she'd seen her and Rose's backside had throbbed for a while that evening.

He looked at her now and could still see that small girl. Despite her grown-up exterior, he could see how frightened she was, how out of place she looked, how ashamed and vulnerable she felt, how much she wanted to run away. His heart broke for her. All the frustration and annoyance he had harboured towards her, all the angry words he had planned to throw at her, all the ways he had planned to drag her back into the family business and control her – all of this dissipated. All he now wanted to do was to stride over to her and take her in his arms, to tell her that she was safe now, that she was home and that he would listen to her, he would let her do whatever she wanted to – anything, so long as she was safe.

All of this flew through his mind in a split second and as he heard the gasps of Polly and Lizzie beside him, as well as the muffled whispering which rippled round the room, he pulled himself together and forced his expression into its usual unreadable state. He moved his eyes to Mosley.

The Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster was enjoying himself immensely. He revelled in the collective response of the room as he walked in with Rose Shelby on his arm, and he was particularly pleased with the momentary loss of control he saw in Tommy face. It was exactly the response he wanted. He put a smirk on his face whilst puffing out his chest as he walked Rose over to Tommy, placing one hand over Rose's as it laid on his other arm and talking to her quietly as he did so.

Rose felt her legs buckle as soon as she walked into the dining room at Arrow House and she held tightly to Mosley's arm purely so that she wouldn't fall over. She was aware that there were a number of people in the room but she didn't take in their faces – she was too busy trying not to faint. Mosley turned her towards the centre of the room and her eyes met Tommy's. She watched his face falter for a tiny moment and knew that he saw right through her – all her fear and panic, her discomfort and pain. What's more, she recognised his compassion for her, his desire to rescue her and make her safe. Without another thought, she began to pull her hand from Mosley's arm so that she could run to him. But, before she could, Mosley clamped his hand on top of hers and held it in place. He leaned close to her and spoke quietly but firmly.

"Don't pull away from me, Rose. Remember who you're with – me, not him!"

Polly was not expecting to see her niece on Mosley's arm that evening, and certainly not looking like he was paying her by the hour to be with him. She gasped when she saw Rose and threw a quick glance at Tommy. She could see a thousand thoughts fly through his head and knew it was taking all his willpower not to pull out his gun and shoot Mosley between the eyes. She exchanged a worried look with Lizzie and moved her eyes back to her niece. She wanted to take hold of her and shake her violently. What was she thinking? It was clear now to Polly that Rose had gone to Mosley when she'd run away from home. She could see how the girl had been pulled in by Mosley's charm and promises. Pursing her lips, Polly was furious with her niece. She knew Rose was impulsive and obstinate, but she had hoped she was smarter than this. She was itching to get her hands on her.

Mosley brought Rose to a stop in front of the group and looked from one face to another, clearly proud of the impact he had made. Tommy kept his eyes on Mosley. When he spoke, his voice was steady and low.

"I see you've found my sister, Mr. Mosley."

Mosley grinned at him.

"I wasn't aware you'd lost her, Mr. Shelby. How very careless of you."

"Nevertheless, I'm grateful to you for bringing her home."

Mosley raised an eyebrow.

"From what I understand, your sister has left home. It has been my pleasure to host her at my townhouse in London for the past few days – at her request. I must say, she came to me in quite a state, old man, with a severe head injury."

Tommy kept his eyes on Mosley and nodded.

"A nasty fall from her horse."

Polly spoke up.

"Which no doubt has affected her ability to make sensible decisions. Thank you for bringing her home, Mr. Mosley." She took a step forward, her hand stretched out to Rose. "Her family will take it from here."

Mosley put his arm around Rose, his hand encircling her upper arm, and looked down at her.

"Rose, my darling, your family seem to think you've returned home. Is this what you want?"

Rose's eyes darted from Tommy to Polly before looking up at Mosley. She didn't know what to do. Mosley subtly tightened his grip on her arm and smiled at her. Tommy wanted to punch him until he lost all recognizable features.

"Why don't you tell your brother here what you'd like to do, hmm?"

Rose felt frozen to the spot. Did she want to return home? Aberama Gold's grief-stricken face flashed in her mind, then an image of Bonnie, dead on a cross. She felt a rush of nausea. She was brought back to the present by Polly's voice, directed at her.

"Rose – are you home to stay?"

Looking at Polly, Rose knew that coming home meant coming back to the grief and the fear and the pain. She forced her gaze back up to Mosley and shook her head. The Baronet beamed and looked back at Tommy.

"Rose came as my guest tonight and will leave with me tomorrow morning. I trust you will honour her wishes."

Tommy finished his drink in one gulp and put the glass firmly on the table.

"Of course. Mr. Mosley, if you don't mind, I have some business to discuss with you in my office. It won't take long."

Tommy gestured towards the door, still not looking at Rose. He knew his resolve would falter if he looked into her eyes. He had no choice but to conduct business with Mosley tonight – the future of the country depended on it. He would get Mosley's signature and deal with Rose later. Mosley inclined his head.

"Lead the way, Mr. Shelby."

Turning to Rose, he took her hand and kissed it. Tommy turned and walked to the door, unable to watch whilst Polly couldn't help but scoff at this display of nonsense. Mosley ignored her.

"Rose, my darling, you stay here and I will return in the blink of an eye. You won't even have time to miss me."

The very last thing Rose wanted was to be left with Polly and Lizzie. She gripped Mosley's hand and looked at him intently.

"Can I come with you?"

Mosley laughed amusedly. "Of course not! We men have business to discuss. You stay here with your charming family. I'm sure you'll have a lot to catch up on."

With that, he removed his hand from hers and followed Tommy out of the room. Rose watched him go and, when she could put it off no longer, turned back to Polly and Lizzie. She found nothing friendly in their faces. They glanced quickly at each other, then moved towards her as one. Rose found herself being spun around and propelled forcefully towards the door, a firm hand on each elbow.

Polly and Lizzie guided Rose away from the guests and towards the kitchens, passing a steady flow of staff carrying trays of food and empty glasses. Just before the main kitchen Lizzie opened a door on the left and they bundled Rose into the housekeeper's office - a compact room with a desk and a small armchair by the fire where Frances conducted the business of running Arrow House. Rose was annoyed by now and embarrassed at being manhandled through all the guests. As soon as the door was shut, she pulled her arms away from her guards and turned to face them, rubbing her elbows where she'd been grasped. Anything she was about to say fell away when she saw her aunt's face which held a quiet fury. Polly gestured at Rose's dress and face.

"What the hell is this, Rose?"

Rose didn't answer. She knew Polly wasn't interested in her view and that she was about to offer her own opinion.

"In what world did you think this was a good idea? Coming here, to Tommy's home, on the night of a very important event full of very important people, looking like a two bit whore!"

Rose was stung by Polly's words. She looked down at her dress, felt the draught against her exposed back and shoulders, and knew her aunt was right. She'd known it the minute she'd seen the dress and watched the maid apply her make-up that morning. She'd told herself this was what she wanted – a new identity, a way of showing the world she wasn't the same Rose who lived in the shadow of the Shelby family business. She crossed her arms in front of her and looked back at the two women in front of her, not knowing what to say. Lizzie did, however.

"Rose, you've let Mosley turn you into his little doll. And he's not brought you here because he wants what's best for you - you know that, don't you? He's done it to show Tommy that he has the upper hand, that it's him who controls you now. He's using you, he's not giving you what you want – whatever that might be – and he's definitely not giving you what you need."

Rose could feel her defenses go up. She was a Shelby and capitulating wasn't in her nature. She furrowed her brow as she looked back at Lizzie. Her embarrassment and shame turned into anger towards her.

"How would you know what I need, Lizzie? Since when are you interested in me? You're only in this family because you let Tommy get you pregnant. I may look like a whore, but there's only one person in this room who's been paid for …"

Whatever Rose was going to say next was lost as Polly slapped her hard across the face. Rose gasped and put her hand against her cheek, looking at Polly in shock. Her aunt had never hit her like that before. Polly pointed a finger at her, barely containing her anger.

"Don't you ever talk like that again. All the things this family has done for you, Rose Shelby, and this is how you repay us? By turning up here on the arm of Tommy's enemy? You think you're so grown up, making your own choices and forging your own path, but all you've done is prove what a child you still are. You're being manipulated and used, you're bringing shame on this family – and you stand here, throwing insults at Lizzie? Who do you think you are?"

Rose's eyes filled with tears. She could see how wrong she'd been, but she wanted understanding, not accusations. Her eyes filled with tears.

"Aunt Pol …"

Polly turned away in exasperation. She loved her niece but she was beyond angry with her. She cut Rose off as she faced her again.

"Don't tell me how misunderstood you are, Rose. Don't! You think you've had it hard growing up? You think you're to be pitied because you've seen death and loss and pain. All of us have. Everyone in this family! Everyone in this city! There's nothing special about you. You're not the only girl in Birmingham who's controlled by the men in her life – except you've been raised in a mansion with a horse of your own, a maid to dress you every day, more food on your table than you can eat. You're not beaten and sent off to work in factory every day before coming home and cooking and cleaning and doing the laundry. You weren't pregnant at fifteen. You haven't lived hand to mouth moving around on a narrow boat or a caravan. You haven't seen the inside of a jail. Do you want me to go on, Rose? Do you want me to keep telling you how good your life is? How much Tommy has given you?"

Rose tried again. "Aunt Pol…"

But Polly hadn't finished and Rose could hear the utter fury in her voice.

"We all make sacrifices – us women, we all give more than we have. You don't have to like it, but you have to live with it. You'll not find fulfillment by leaving the family. Your role is here, with us, fighting with us, building with us, sacrificing for us. I have given everything for this family – more than you will ever know, Rose, and more than will ever be asked of you! You don't get to turn around and throw that back in my face. You're not better than this family and I will not let you ever – ever – betray us! I will lock you in the cellar before I let you leave this house with him!"

Rose kept silent as Polly finished speaking. The room was charged with emotion and she knew there was nothing she could say to diffuse the situation. And she was confused. Was Polly right? Was she delusional to think she had to leave in order to be herself? Was there so much of herself entwined with this family that there was no way she could ever leave intact? Polly was right that every woman she knew sacrificed parts of themselves for their families and Rose knew she had it easier than a lot of young women her age. But the Shelby family wasn't just any family. There was so much pain and death and violence. Was it her lot to just accept this or even embrace it?

Lizzie broke the silence and spoke quietly.

"Let's go upstairs, Rose. Your clothes are still here - we'll find something more suitable to wear. I'll wipe that stuff of your face and sort your hair out. You'll be back to your old self before Tommy's finished his meeting."

Rose looked at her. 'Back to her old self' was not what she wanted. She was confused about a lot of things but she did know she wasn't a child anymore. She may not want what Mosley wanted for her, but she knew she didn't want to go back to where she was. She needed to think. Moving quickly, she pulled open the door and dashed out of the room. Heading through the kitchens and working areas, it wouldn't have been hard for Rose to lose Polly and Lizzie, but neither pursued her. They weren't about to run through the house in all their finery.

On her way out of the back doors, Rose grabbed one of the maid's woolen shawls which was hanging in the hallway and wrapped it round her. Opening the door, she was glad of its warmth. The night was cold and she could see her breath condense to misty clouds as she walked across the court yard. She wished she wasn't wearing such flimsy shoes as her feet swiftly turned icy cold. As she headed towards the stables, she could see a flurry of activity over in the garden by the side of the house. This must be where the ballet would be performed. Rose was taken with all the lanterns strung across the stage and the seating areas. She'd never seen the side garden looking so beautiful.

The stables weren't busy. All the guests had arrived in cars and there were no horses to feed, water and rub down. Everything seemed quiet when Rose slipped into one of the long buildings, tiptoeing so that her heels wouldn't echo through the stalls and disturb the horses. She breathed in the familiar smell and immediately felt at home. She hadn't realised quite how much she'd missed that place.

In the end stall, Nua was already waiting for her, her head over the door, her ears turned towards her approaching mistress. When Rose reached her, the filly blew through her nose and rubbed her head against hers, delighted to see her. Rose's hair quickly lost its careful shape, but she didn't care. She pulled a hand down Nua's nose before stroking her neck on both sides with both hands, leaning her head against her horse. They stayed like that for a while, Rose barely remembering the last time she'd felt that content.

"She's missed you."

Rose pulled back from Nua with a start and turned to face Mal. He smiled at her as he continued.

"She's not the only one."

Looking back at Nua, Rose smoothed her hair down, conscious of what Mal would think of how she looked. If he thought anything, he didn't say it – just stood a few feet away, smiling at her. Rose reached up to stroke Nua's nose again.

"I missed her too."

Mal chuckled. "But not me?"

She smiled despite herself and threw him a quick glance. "You think well of yourself, Malachi Lee. Why would I have missed you?"

"Because I'm your only friend."

Her face dropped at his answer. He was right. And she remembered how she'd left without a word to him, in the middle of the night. Keeping her eyes on Nua, she spoke quietly.

"I'm sorry I left the way I did. I … I just saw a chance and I took it."

Now it was Mal's turn to look away. He stroked the nose of the horse in the stall next to Nua's.

"Yeah, apparently so. I was going to help you, you know."

Rose sighed. "I couldn't wait."

"'Course you could. You were injured - once you were better, we could have made a plan."

Exasperated now, Rose turned to him. "Have you met Tommy, Mal? Do you really think he would turn a blind eye to you disappearing with me? Really? You know as well as I do that he would hunt you down and cut you."

Mal looked at her, annoyed himself now. "He's not the only one with brains, Rose. It's easy to disappear if you're a Gypsy - even from Tommy Shelby himself."

Rose scoffed. "Don't be stupid."

"Oh yes, and you running off to Oswald Mosley isn't stupid at all, is it?"

Her eyes widened. How did he know that? He saw her surprise and laughed wryly.

"The servants talk, Rose. I know all about every guest in that house."

She looked down and pulled the shawl around her more tightly. Nua nudged her with her nose.

"How has she been?"

"She was skittish after the accident and she's been a bit lost without you. But she's healthy and I take her out every day."

Rose leaned her forehead against Nua's nose and closed her eyes, silently apologising to the horse for abandoning her. Mal moved closer and leaned against the door post.

"You home then?"

She sighed. "No, I don't think so."

"You're going back with him?"

Ignoring the question, she pulled away from Nua and turned to Mal, noticing how close he was. She looked at the brown buttons on his waistcoat. He always left the bottom one open – he said it made it easier to ride. She felt a sudden impulse to reach out and touch them, to move even closer to him. Instead she wrapped her arms around herself and leaned against the door. Nua blew into her neck every now and again to remind her she was there.

"I wish I could take her out."

"Doesn't look like you're dressed for riding."

She grimaced. "I'm not quite sure what I'm dressed for."

"You're dressed for the ballet, of course."

"Is that what the staff told you?"

"You don't want to know what they said about you."

She pinched the bridge of her nose and Mal thought she looked an awful lot like Tommy with that gesture. Looking up, she flushed as she noticed how intensely he was watching her. She cleared her throat.

"What was your plan, then?"

"Eh? Plan?"

"Your plan to get me away from here, if I hadn't run away."

He put his hands in his pockets.

"Ah now, that would take a lot of time to explain, it's very intricate. It involves horses and forests and beds of moss and sleeping under the stars the length and breadth of England – and maybe France."

She smiled. "Sounds idyllic. How long would we be travelling the length and breadth of Britain and maybe France?"

"Oooh, a good few months, I would think."

"Then what?"

"Well, I haven't thought that far ahead but I would think it would be us opening up our own stables where we would rear and train the best racehorses in all of England, and maybe France, and make lots of money which we'd spend on more horses whilst we lived cosy in our cottage in the woods."

"Cosy in our cottage? You mean, cottages – one next to the other."

Mal pushed himself off the post and moved closer. "No, I mean our cottage – together. You and me. And we'd have a Gypsy wedding and dance together all night whilst my dad played the fiddle."

Rose pushed herself off the stall door and moved closer to Mal. She reached out and touched the top button of his waistcoat hesitantly.

"I've always wanted a Gypsy wedding and a cottage."

Mal reached up and took Rose's hand in his.

"And me? Would you want me?"

Rose leaned into him a little and looked up into his face, noticing how his soft brown hair fell over his eyes.

"Yes, I would want you. I think I've always wanted you."

Mal leaned down and gently kissed her on her lips. He pulled back slightly as Rose stretched closer to him, whereupon he met her lips again and they kissed slowly and longingly as the horses around them moved in their stalls, unaware that just in front of them, two souls were mingling as if they had always belonged together. For the very first time in her life, Rose knew exactly and definitively what she wanted in her future.