"Robert, I'm surprised you decided to stay," The Duke said, taking a bite of omelette.

It was morning and the family had gathered for breakfast. The high windows were buffeted by a soft morning breeze, magpies singing in the distance. Robert sat across the length of the golden dining table and faced his father, their eyes locked together, cold blue to cold blue.

"What is surprising about it father?" The Marquess drank from his cup of water.

Lord Stark ignored his son and went back to eating. Robert knew what his father meant. Ever since Robert started his own gaslamp company, he moved out of the house and never spent a night in the mansion ever again. All he ever did was visit his sister and mother—who was lovable, compare to his father—before he returned to his townhouse in London.

This was because of the Duke. Robert couldn't stand the lack of affection he showed him. It was better he didn't see the man than spend every day being constantly reminded of their horrible relationship—something he was trying his bloody best to fix and maybe the moon lamp would be his saving grace.

The room was preceded by the sounds of forks hitting plates, most of the sound coming from Grace as she played with her breakfast. She sat idly and barely touched her food. Her mother had asked her the reason why and she lied, saying she had a bad night. Which wasn't a complete lie considering she indeed had a horrible night with her Romeo.

Robert wanted to confront Grace and let her know he knew of her secret rendezvous with a certain stable master's son. But he thought it would be better to respect his sister's decision not to tell him. There had to be a reason she didn't want him to know. And he knew that when the time was right, she would confide in him. He was her big brother after all.

"Robert," his mother let her fork down and flicked her gaze to him, "you didn't dance with any woman yesterday."

He glanced at his sister. "I do remember dancing with a beautiful lady."

His efforts at making her smile seemed to work and in seconds, she went back to sulking again. Maybe it was best to let her be. She would get over it. They always did.

"Dancing with your sister doesn't count, Robert." Lady Penelope tried her bloody best not to sound annoyed but she failed, horribly.

"I do consider my sister a lady," Robert begged to differ. "You don't think your daughter is a lady?"

"So what about the girl I saw you with yesterday?"

"What girl?" Robert's tone was clipped with curiosity.

"Oh, you see... I happened to come across you and a young lady on the balcony. I was impressed with the respectable distance she kept from you. She is a fine lady. Who was she?"

Now all eyes were on him, including his father's. Oh, dear. His mother had seen them. Did she hear what they spoke about? No, that won't be possible considering she called Ella a fine lady. A fine lady would never want to work for a man. If his mother ever heard of that...

Robert shuddered at the thought of the things she would do to Ella. He had to tread this path carefully.

"I didn't ask for her name. We weren't introduced." The Marquess took a mouthful of omelette, eager to avoid his family's curios eyes. Grace didn't seem too bothered anymore. Instead, her adorable blue eyes were fixed on him and they churned with interest.

"Hmm," his father leaned back in his seat, "I'm surprised you acted like a gentleman considering your interesting choice of lifestyle."

"Your Grace," Lady Penelope warned, trying to remind the Duke of his daughter's presence. They wouldn't want to corrupt their innocent Gracie. Which reminded Robert, she wasn't that innocent after all. Innocent girls didn't have secret rendezvous with men.

Taking the last bite of omelette, Robert stood, dabbing his mouth with a white handkerchief. "I'll be off to work." He rounded the table and placed a kiss on Grace's forehead. "Be a good girl and don't take father too personal."

The Duke nearly choked on his meal.

Grace giggled and whispered, "I would show the old man no mercy."

Robert grinned and bowed, leaving the room, his father's cold gaze on his back. As he walked along the dark wood-panelled hallway, he wondered what had happened to make his father that way. What could have happened to the Duke that would make him care only about society and not his son? Robert couldn't figure it out but hoped to do so one day.

After a thirty-minute drive, he arrived at his office and quickly jumped out of his carriage. The reception was busy as usual, workers in tailcoats scurrying around, files in their hands. They always seemed to walk twice as fast whenever they saw him. He scaled the staircase and arrived at his office. On both sides of the corridor were doors and at the end was his black double door.

The door by the right swung open and Howard walked out, black eyes fixed on a letter. When he saw Robert he did a bow and walked toward him.

"You're thirty minutes, thirty-five seconds late, My lord."

Ah, the privileges of working with a time-obsessed private secretary. "Yes, I know, Mr Lithstone."

"This letter came in this morning." He handed it over to Robert. "It's from her."

"Okay," he took it and walked over to his door, "I'll be in my office."

"Okay, My lord." Howard rushed back into his office, shutting the door. If there was one thing Lord Robert loved about Howard, it would be his work ethic. The man never took a day off. Smiling, His Lordship walked into his office, opening the letter. He slid open his curtains, letting the morning light phase through his windows, brightening the formerly dark room.

Sinking into his black chair, he opened the letter and it read;

Dear Lord Robert,

So far, I haven't seen anything rather suspicious. Gerrard still goes to work and comes back. He eats his usual meal and there hasn't been a slight change in his cocky behaviour.

Robert chuckled and continued to read;

He still talks rudely to the servants and always locks himself up in his study when he's at home. If I see anything suspicious, I would let you know.

Yours sincerely,

Helen.

He had been receiving letters from her after their agreement during the date. It wasn't a problem to convince her to watch Gerrard for him considering she disliked the man.

They both had a good time during the restaurant date and Helen never missed an opportunity to make him laugh. Unlike his past partners, he felt something different from her—a sense of joviality. But he didn't have that sense of intimacy he felt around other women he was attracted to.

It was safe to say he considered her a friend though they had only met a few days ago. Helen was smart and understood the struggles of society and they had both discussed a lot about ways that social issues could be worked on. But she wasn't as smart as a certain person he had met two days ago.

How could she be that smart? She was only a woman. Just then, there was a knock on the door, "My Lord?"

"Come in." He settled the letter on his brown desk stacked with unread files.

Howard walked in and closed the door behind him. "Mr Pontney called and said there is a funny-looking man downstairs claiming to have an appointment with you."

Robert locked his brows. "What is their name?"

"Mr Snell Law." Howard rubbed his chin. "Reminds me a lot of Snell's law."

And then the bloody pin dropped. That cunning woman! Robert had to say, he was impressed with her ability to convey a secret message. Well, it was time to make her wish she had never thought of working for a man.

He smirked and crossed his leg. "I do remember a particular Mr Law. Let him in."

Ella's feet bounced excitedly on the marble floor as she ate breakfast with her family. She couldn't wait for what the day had to offer. It was a wonderful day. Her dreams were finally closer than she had expected.

She and her mother flanked both sides of the table, Mr Featherington sitting at the head of the table. His eyes behind spectacles were buried in a newspaper and his fair hand held a cup of tea.

"I heard you went to the Starklington ball," his gruff voice bounced off the floral wallpaper walls of the dining. He didn't sound pleased in the least. Ella knew her father didn't know about their departure since her mother didn't tell him.

"Yes, father."

"I didn't remember giving someone," his black eyes glanced at his wife who pretended to be watching the clock hanging on the wall, "the permission to let you attend. Do you know what would have happened if Sir Gerrard didn't go to that ball and later found out I let my daughter attend?"

"No," Ella shrugged, "Pray do tell father."

He blew out air and settled his neatly folded newspaper on the table. "It's a tradition in this family not to ever have anything to do with the Starks. My employer hates that family and as his private secretary, attending their functions would be considered treason in his sight. Don't forget working for him is what has put food on our table."

Too bad Ella wanted to work with their son. Bad timing father. Bad timing.

"Oh Harry," his wife pleaded, dark eyes doing the same, "we don't have to ruin this perfect morning."

"You mentioned that he danced with her." He raised a brow.

Her mother nodded. "They were beautiful on the dance floor."

Ella's wanted to rush to the nearest dustbin and vomit. The thought of being considered beautiful with a man as arrogant as he was made her stomach rumble in disgust.

Mr Featherington gave his daughter a calculative look through his lens. What was going on in his mind? She hoped he wasn't speculating the same thing her mother believed. Ella would never want to be seen next to Gerrard again.

"Mother," she rose, curtsying, "I would be going to Juliet's house and I would be there for a while."

"Why?" Her father questioned.

"Sir Gerrard told me yesterday that he loved women who knew how to paint. Juliet is a master painter and I want to learn from her. That way, I would be endearing in his eyes," She lied. The young lady couldn't believe how good she had become at the art of lying.

Both parents looked at each other and there was a silent communication going on between them. After a minute, her father spoke.

"Fine," he cleared his throat, "But be back before seven in the evening."

"Thank you, father." She curtsied before she dashed out of the dining. Grabbing her parasol, she exited the building and entered the streets of London. It was still seven in the morning and most people hadn't left their homes. A thin mist swathed the townhouses at both sides of the road and she quickened her pace. Robert had told her he didn't tolerate tardiness and she wouldn't give him a reason to fire her. She couldn't still believe it, she was about to work! Ella had no idea what his office would look like or what her job would be exactly. But one could bet a thousand pounds that she was as excited as a toddler when it gets its first chocolate.

Juliet's house was a stone's throw away from hers and she arrived after five minutes of walking. Faint sounds came from outside the building and she knew the Hastings were awake.

She knocked on the oak door and rapid footsteps sounded behind it.

The door tore open and Juliet stood before her, grinning from ear to ear, blue eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Come in." She dragged Ella, almost making her stumble on the short flight of stairs at the entrance. Glancing left and right, she led Ella hastily up the stairs and in seconds, already had her in her bedroom and banged the door behind them. Juliet made sure she locked the door and then, she tossed the key on her study table.

"I think it's my turn to ask if you're in heat." Ella smirked as she settled on her friend's canopied bed.

"You must tell me, Ella! You must tell me!" Juliet rushed to her desk and fished out a letter Ella had sent to her last night. "What did you need those things for?"

"Work." Ella's chest rose with pride.

Juliet gasped, "You finally met him."

"What do you think?"

Jules joined her in bed and held Ella's white day dress. "How was he? Was he tall? Was he handsome? Did he have a broad chest? Oh, tellmetellmetellme."

Ella chuckled—Juliet was a lot to handle when she was curious. And the only cure would be to tell her everything. Ella narrated her night at the ball; from meeting Sir Gerrard who surprisingly showed interest in her to talking with Lord Robert who was the most handsome man she had ever seen. When she mentioned that part, Juliet squealed in excitement and said something about a huge tick? She wasn't sure she heard her well. And knowing her friend, Ella thanked God she didn't.

"Your night was the loveliest." Juliet sank into her bed, staring at the white ceiling. "If only my life was like yours."

Ella pouted, "I wish you were there and your life is lovely. You're the most fun person I know." Juliet couldn't attend because she claimed she had a stomach ache. Which was quite odd considering she wasn't that way when Ella had visited her the evening before the ball.

"I know." Juliet sprang out of her bed and hurried to a wardrobe by the corner, her blonde hair flying behind her. She came back with a complete men's outfit; a white work shirt, black tailcoat, black waistcoat and black trousers. "I still can't believe that he wanted you to dress like a man."

"He just wants to prevent a scandal and that I understand. I'm willing to do anything to work alongside him even though it means wearing men's clothing," she took the clothes and narrowed her eyes, "How were you able to get all these on short notice?" Ella had sent her the letter yesterday asking for men's clothing. She doubted that Juliet would be able to provide them in a few hours. But her friend proved her wrong.

"I have my ways." She dragged Ella up and held the shirt against her chest. "Now let's get you dressed up before you'll be scolded for being tardy."

When Juliet was done with Ella, she walked over to a mirror and was shocked at the sight before her. Not only did she fit in the outfit, but her big derriere had made it a problem to look 'manly.' She couldn't think of a lot of men with a behind that big.

Well from today she would be an exception for men with big bu—correction, men with big derrieres. The fake full beard concealed her lower face, her peach lips escaping the black forest. Her brown hair had been hidden under the black top hat and she didn't have a problem portraying a perfect male anterior since she was lacking in the bosom department.

"I look..."

"Big buttocked!" Juliet screamed, examining her friend's extravagant behind. "I don't think Lord Robert would be able to resist that."

"Jules!" Ella turned, hiding her derriere. "Shush, your parents may hear you."

"Don't worry about them. They think I'm giving you art lessons just like you requested in the letter. Don't worry about being caught, I'll take care of everything."

Ella hugged her friend tightly, blonde hair tangled in her ivory hands. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"Sex with Lord Robert is an example." Juliet grinned withdrawing from the hug and Ella rolled her eyes. Juliet would never change. "You look ready. This way."

She took her to a corner of the room where a door existed. Opening it, she led her down the stairs that were attached to the side of the house. It was still early and the alleyway wasn't busy except for a few people walking along the pavement.

"I'm happy your dream is finally at arm's reach. Now you can finally do those science things you've always wanted to do." Juliet smiled warmly as she walked side to side with her friend.

"I am the gladdest, Jules." Of course, she would be. Her dreams were so close that she could smell them.

"The world of men is dangerous, Ella." Juliet stopped walking and locked her hands before her, blue eyes whirling with concern. "Promise me you would be safe."

"I promise, Jules." Ella waved as she took off to the road. She was getting late. "Bye!"

"Bye!"

Ella's stomach fluttered with anticipation as she hailed down a cabbie. What would her new life bring? She didn't know but was excited to find out.

"Where are you off to, Sir?" The cabbie asked, halting his horses, the black carriage screeching to a stop.

Sir? Ella had to admit, it had a nice tune to it. Did that arrogant poppycock, Gerrard Finley feel this way whenever he was addressed the title? If so, it would explain why he was so full of himself.

"Lord Robert Stark's London office," she said, hopping in.

"Alright, Sir. Gee up!"

The ride to Robert's office didn't take that long. Hopping off the carriage, she paid the cabbie and he rode off, leaving behind clouds of dust. This was the first time she had left a carriage without being helped by a man. And she had to say, it was refreshing. Imagine waiting ten itching seconds for a man to round a carriage and open the door for you when it could've been done in a heartbeat if she did it herself.

Ella gasped sharply at the sight before her. It was a tall building with a sleek black exterior and the lower floor had wings as great as that of an eagle, giving the entire building the shape of the letter 'T' face downwards.

A skinny doorman in blue gave her a suspicious look as she approached the double door of the entrance. I'm not a woman. I repeat I am not a bloody woman. Ignore my big derriere! I beg of you!