Will's new valet in training was dedicated to his new position, taking Will's measurements and returning with an absolutely absurd number of shirts, jackets, coats and hats. Will took to hiding in my sitting room when the man came looking for him, usually with a book in his hand or tugging me into a corner. I had laughed when he pulled me into a corner where you would not be able to see it when the door opened. "Will, it's just clothes."

"It's too much Ana, far too much. He brought out top hats just now, just samples to see which design looks best on me." He pressed his lips to my shoulder, covered by my dress. "It's been nothing but clothes and lectures on how I was using the wrong fork for the main course last night."

I chuckled, squeezing his shoulders. "What do you think the first sixteen years of my life were? Just be glad you don't have to learn to dance a quadrille."

"Oh God, he did mention he wanted to see us dance in case some correction was needed." Will rose from where he had been leaning over me, casting a look around. "But this is the most we've been able to be alone for a week and a half, and I intend to take advantage of it." His hands dropped to my waist, drifting even farther to clutch at my backside and pull me flush to him.

I pressed myself to him, wishing I could stay. "You're going with Ezekiel to the shipyard today, remember? And I have to get the last fitting done on my dress before the party Saturday."

"We haven't read any poetry for awhile, Ana." He rumbled against me, and I couldn't resist letting one of my legs drift up and wrap around his legs. "And I want you Ana, but your damn servants." He had made his first trip out on the town, by himself, to arrange for a delivery of poetry volumes within the first five days of being here. It had necessitated a shift in the library, although he kept several volumes for his own rooms. He had left one in my sitting room the other day, a page containing a rather lusty poem marked. I had read it, flame cheeked, and then returned it to his, my own selection marked for him. That had been the most salacious our contact had gotten.

"I know, I know." I muttered against him, "Too industrious by far."

"Haven't even been able to kiss you like I want." He reared back, staring down. I felt my lips drop open, an invitation that he swiftly took advantage of as his lips crashed into mine. It was not the most refined kiss, our teeth clacked together at one point and our noses were an obstacle, but it was the most I had had from him since we had returned. Peggy had been fanatical about escorting me to bed, ensuring that Will only gave me a chaste kiss before going to his own rooms. At first she had even set a footman to guarding the hallway between our rooms, especially after Mother had left. Now she only had him make regular rounds, or she sent a maid up to ensure that I was alone in my rooms at night.

The nightmares hadn't returned, I had just had so much to deal with that it seemed they had fled. Fittings for my dress, a trip to the jewelers to finally have my ring resized, approving the flower arrangements and the menu. Filling out the invitations had taken a solid three days, leaving my hand cramped and ink-stained by the end of it. Part of me thought it was the activity, but when I had been alone before the activity had done nothing to alleviate my dreams.

It was Will.

Having him by me, listening to his stories about meeting Mr. Keller and the office staff as Abraham had brought him around to be introduced. He had read aloud to me while I had filled out the invitations, although he despaired of our library and let me know it. Apparently we had too many history books, not what he preferred to read. His poetry trip had remedied that, although he had also brought his half completed model up the library, placing it out on a table and working on it when he had a moment during the day. I would join him, watched by a maid as I handed him pieces and questioned him about his construction. We would sit across from each other in the dining room every evening, enjoying a simple dinner each night. And then it was upstairs to our separate rooms. Even without his arms around me at night, the knowledge that he was so close, that I could call for him if I needed and he would come, was comforting.

These thoughts were racing through my mind as I curled my fingers around Will's head, wishing I could thread my fingers through his hair like he was doing to mine. We hadn't been able to be alone for very often, or for very long and intended to take advantage of this opportunity as I let my hand drift from his waist, heading below his belt. The most we had been able to get away with was moments like this, a hurried kiss before we were interrupted. As if on cue I heard the knob to sitting room door turn, Peggy calling out as I snatched my hand back. "Miss, Ezekiel is here to take Mr. Murdoch to the shipyard. And your mother is waiting for you in the motor. Do you require a moment to fix your appearance?"

Will gave a groan, and I was thankful that I was hidden by the door as I hurriedly set my clothes to rights. He sighed, watching me. "I'll be right down Peggy, please make sure Ezekiel doesn't take off before I get there."

"Considering Mrs. Dalian has his cab blocked, I think you might have a chance Mr. Murdoch." Peggy chuckled, stepping away but leaving the door open. A very clear sign that we were to be respectable and emerge in a timely manner. Will tugged his jacket into place, leaving me with a kiss on the cheek before heading out. I had to take a moment to ensure that my hair hadn't fallen too much before I followed, waving to Ezekiel as I placed my hat on my head and joined Mother in the motorcar.

Mother looked over as I sat next to her, "Bidding farewell to Mr. Murdoch for the day?" I couldn't even think of anything to say, blushing and ducking my head as she chuckled. "Really Anastasia, I can understand loving your fiancé but must you indulge in those affections?"

"It's, it was nothing Mother. Just a simple kiss to say goodbye for the day."

"A simple kiss does not lead to your hair coming out of its pins. Take off your hat and let me fix it." She gestured for me to turn my back to her, the large hat with its bow and flowers in my lap as she gently twisted my hair back into its style. I sighed, enjoying the feel of her fingers on my scalp. I had always loved when she had helped with my hair when I was younger, often eschewing the nannies and governesses of the stylish set in favor of her own hands. I had remarked on the oddness of it when compared to the other girls my age one time, she had simply replied that she liked it and her own mother would have killed her to see her little girl being prettied by another's hand. Her hand lingered for a moment, "I just don't want to see you ruined, my dear girl."

"Will has sworn he will not go beyond kisses until we're married." I said as I turned in my seat to face the right way, "And he is serious about it Mother, we discussed it at his house in Southampton."

"That's another thing I wanted to speak to you about, going to his house? Unchaperoned? You should just be glad it was only Ezekiel who saw you, and that he refused to share it to anyone but me."

"I didn't know how else to find him, and I wanted to speak to him in private. Really Mother, you have nothing to worry about."

"I'm your mother, part of that role is to worry about you." She squeezed my hand, "And your reputation. What do you think the Reichsters would say if they found out about that? Samantha is already on a tear after coming back from Berlin, imagine what she could spin if she had that as ammunition. You would have to marry within a month."

Would that truly be such a bad thing? I was about to give voice to that thought when I looked to her, black and still as she watched me. A woman in full mourning couldn't attend a wedding, even if it was for her own daughter. Father already wouldn't be there, Mother had to be. She just had to. So I nodded, "I understand Mother, I will be better about ensuring that everything remains respectable."

"That is all that I want." She started as the car stopped, "Ah, Bloomingdale's. Perfect, ready for your fitting?" She and I made our way through the store happily, stopping to moon over soft gloves and elegant fans, hats freshly delivered from Paris shops and new dresses that hung straight down. Mother snorted at those, I knew she favored more feminine styles. Usually with a train. Which was why I found myself standing in front of several mirrors, wrapped in dark blue silk, covered in an even darker chiffon, with scattering patterns of gold beads catching the light, and a skirt that trailed five feet behind me and would have to be looped up for dancing.

I looked at myself, remembering my debut dress. I had felt so beautiful in it that night, when I had been able to put my hair up and let my skirts down. Father had walked me into the ballroom, even dancing with me though I knew he hated it. I blinked away the memory, turning to the seamstress who was adjusting the hem. "Could we smooth out the line to the train? I think it's a little too abrupt of a turn."

"Yes, Miss." She nodded, unpinning that section of the hem and smoothing it out. "Is that better?"

"Yes, thank you." I shifted, it had already been awhile that I had been standing there. Mother spoke up briefly with several corrections, chiefly concerning the pleating on the chiffon. By the end of the fitting the beaded fabric curled down from one shoulder, was caught at a knot at my hip, then covered the whole of the skirt and the train. I turned, examining myself. "It's perfect."

"You'll need some jewelry for it," Mother got to her feet with a slight groan, coming up to stand by me and examine the mirror. "I don't suppose Mr. Murdoch has the money for sapphires?"

"You know he doesn't Mother, and that it doesn't matter to me if he does." I sniffed, standing still as one of the seamstresses came up behind me to unfasten the dress.

Mother gestured to the seamstress to step away for a moment, then turned and opened the door to the fitting room. I almost started from the block I was standing on at seeing a man walk in, a large flat box in his hands. To have a man enter a woman's fitting room while she's being fitted, not even the owner would be so bold. But he simply bowed to Mother, passing over the box. She looked up at me, "Close your eyes, my dear girl." I quickly shut my eyes, that strange feeling of someone moving around you but you couldn't see them taking over. That, and anticipation as I felt her drape a necklace around my neck, slip earrings through my ears, bracelets on my wrist, and even a tiara in my hair. Her voice was thick when she spoke again, "Open."

I gasped, taking in the sight of myself in the mirrors. The pieces she had selected were not heavy with stones, but those that were set in gold filigree were a dark and pure blue. They glittered among my hair, curled around my neck, and graced my wrists. The light glinted off them as I brought my hand up, staring at the delicate bracelets. "Mother, oh they're beautiful."

"They're my engagement gift." She took my hand, giving it a squeeze. "I really am happy for you, my dear Anastasia. Especially after what has happened. In fact, I have another gift in mind, but you will have to discuss it with your Mr. Murdoch."

"Oh Mother," I stepped down, pulling her into an embrace. "This is more than enough."

I felt her hands tighten around my shoulders, "Still, please talk to him about redecorating your father and I's room at the dock house. I am more comfortable at the Fifth Avenue house, and I would assume you two would like to share a bedroom once you're married. I will gladly pay for what you desire."

"I believe we would." I stepped back, reaching up to brush aside the tears I could see in the corner of her eyes. I could not help but think that she preferred the Fifth Avenue house because it held far fewer memories of Father, of the years they had spent together. It still gave me an odd feeling in my stomach to think of taking over their rooms though, as if I would displace them. It was foolishness, complete foolishness I reminded myself. It was simply a bedroom connected to two separate dressing rooms and a bathroom, rooms were shifted around all the time. And I had hardly spent any time in them, I couldn't even remember what they looked like. I watched Mother collect herself for a moment, "But where will you sleep when you come visit for holidays? Don't think you're getting out of that, you're still my Mother and I will always need you."

"We have plenty of rooms, and I have no doubt you will find some way to make use of them aside from setting one aside for your poor old Mama."

"You are hardly old Mother, and definitely not poor." I chuckled, leaning down from my perch to hold her close. I gave her a tight squeeze, "What about you, haven't you got a dress to be fitted for?"

"Mine was finished weeks ago, it's much easier to work in black." She sniffed, stepping back. "Now, take all those off and let them get you out of that. I'll take everything with me, the party is only a few days away and it will be better to store them with me until the day of. You and Mr. Murdoch are still coming over the morning of the party and staying the night, correct?"

"Yes Mother," I breathed, feeling the seamstress step up behind me and begin unfastening the gown. It pooled at my feet in a swirl of silk and gold beads, quickly scooped up before it would wrinkle. The seamstress slipped the jewelry box in with the dress after she had boxed it, handing it over to the driver as we emerged outside of the store. He handled it reverently, placing it on the bench across from us, then handing us each up into the cab. It hardly seemed a moment before he was idling in front of the dock house, and Mother had me latched in her arms again. I ducked my head over her shoulder, "I'll see you soon."

"Of course, and tell your Mr. Murdoch I have a gift for him when you arrive the morning of the party. That should at least ensure he brings you there in a timely manner." She chuckled at that, then shooed me back to the house. I waved as she left, feeling lighter than I had in a long time. It was getting late but not too late, which would give me enough time to change into a nicer dress for dinner. It was a lovely gold silk, covered with a black tulle lace, but I constantly had to stand and smooth it as I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

After the first hour I had spent in the dining room, waiting for Will, I had decided to get a book and retire outside to read. It was dark, and growing darker by the minute. Part of me worried about him, that something had happened to him and Ezekiel at the shipyard. A thief had left them lying bloody in an alley, or a piece pf machinery had crushed them while they had been examining the ship. I shook my head, focusing on my book. They were just late, it would be fine. When I turned back to look into the dining room again, I saw the plates had been set out. They wouldn't have put the food out to get cold, Will must have arrived. I rushed to my seat, leaving my book outside and trying my best to make it look like I had just arrived. The footman opened the dining room door, revealing a Will that was rather more rumpled than when he had set off this morning. I stood up from the table, smiling. "Will, welcome back! Ezekiel must have kept you for quite awhile. Please, sit, eat something."

He shrugged his jacket off, laying it over a chair and standing across from me in his double breasted waistcoat, the chain of his watch gleaming in the electric light. He looked to the footman who had returned to waiting on the side of the room, "Can you dismiss him?"

"Mr. Murdoch, I am to stay and supervise the meal." The footman spoke up, pursing his lips.

"And I need to speak to my fiancée privately. It will not be long enough for me to ravish her on the dinner table." His voice was low, and he looked to me again. "Ana, please send him away. I need to speak to you alone."

My stomach had dropped out, and I nodded to the footman to leave. I kept my hands on the back of my chair to give me some support after the door closed. "Will, what ever is the matter?"

"Why didn't you tell me about Zachary at the charity ball?" He mirrored my pose, his blue eyes holding mine.

"I did, I told you he had an outburst after I refused his proposal."

"You didn't tell me that he called you a dockside whore." I squeezed my eyes shut at his words, but he continued. "A slut who spread her legs for all of the officers, who liked rough men with little cash. Christ, Ezekiel said he almost shot him dead there in the ballroom after hearing what he said."

I took a breath, opening my eyes. "So he told you that?"

"We had a few beers after seeing the new ship, she is lovely by the way, and we got to talking. Ezekiel, and myself I might add, can't understand why you stopped him that night. Your life would have been much easier with Zachary dead in a ditch. All our lives would have been easier."

"Because I didn't want to see Ezekiel hanged for shooting Zachary over a bunch of lies." I stared at him, twisting my fingers around the chair. "And I don't want to see that for you either. You know those were lies, Ezekiel knows those were lies. Everyone knows they were lies, spouted off by a drunk who fled across the Atlantic right after to hide away. I wasn't the one being spoken about after it, he was. He was the one who was shamed by his actions, by his lies."

"And you know people will still spread them!" He raked his hand through his hair, stalking down to the end of the table and coming towards me. "All those people you're going to rejoin after the party, back in Society, they're going to be whispering all of that behind your back. What do you think I'm going to hear whispered a hundred times behind my own back in Newport? His fiancée is a whore, probably bedding a dozen men behind his back. Take her some cash and she'll open her legs right up. And you left me to learn it now, three days before the party!"

He had stopped in front of me, staring down. I could only hold his gaze for a moment, dropping my head as a rush of shame overcame me. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to think about him anymore. Because he's a horrible, awful man, and he will say those things regardless of if they are true. Because I had you by my side, finally, and things felt right and I just didn't want to make you think that things had been so awful while you had been gone. I didn't want to think about it any more. It was in the past, and I had my future to look to."

"Ana," He said after a moment, his voice softer as he rested his hands on my shoulders. "Even if your mother hadn't written that letter, I could have seen that you had not been well while I had been away. You were so pale, and I could feel your bones in your wrists when I touched them. I didn't even have to squeeze." I sniffed, letting him tilt my chin back up. "You may say that what he said were lies that you didn't want to think on, but I have no doubt you did. You don't have to protect me from those things, I can assure you I've heard much worse." He leaned down, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "But not about someone who is going to be my wife soon."

"I'm sorry, Will." I mumbled, "I should have told you."

"I don't ever want to hear you say you're sorry over something involving him." He brushed his fingers across my face, tucking my hair back. "But no more trying to protect me. We're going to be married soon, we can't keep secrets from each other anymore. We have to face these things together."

"I don't suppose you have any secrets?"

"I've bared myself to you completely," He kissed my cheek, then moved back to his chair across from me. "You know all there is to know about me."

"We've each seen each other at our lowest then," I said, brushing my skirt underneath me to sit right. "Which means we can only go up. So long as that is what you want."

"I want nothing more," He smiled, his blue eyes flashing. "Except perhaps for you in my bed, but you can call the footman back in if you think you need a witness to stop me."

"You've proven your ability to restrain yourself," I looked to my food, picking up my fork. "I think we can manage alone."

"We're not alone, we're together."

"I meant without the servants."

"Oh, right."

I looked up from my potatoes, "You know, I did bring a volume of Keats down to keep me company while I waited for you. We could retire to the terrace after dinner, for a nightcap."

"I don't suppose you remember some of the lines you were reading before I returned?" His eyes were dark, his food forgotten as he stared across at me.

"Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard, are sweeter." I recited, my voice low so that he leaned across the table to hear it.

His nostrils flared slightly as he breathed in, "Ode to a Grecian Urn. Ana, you had best call the footman back if you intend for us to have that nightcap. I cannot keep myself from you if you read it."