Thunder boomed through London, a shower of rain baptizing the city, the dark sky shading the blinding lightning. Everyone had gone into their homes, the street lights pouring yellow beams on the roads. On the pavement, a lanky man dressed in a black cloak slinked in the darkness, water streaming down his apparel.

His boots made splats as they came in contact with puddles in the road and he appeared to be in a haste. He shivered in the cold, cursing himself for deciding to meet by this time of the night. Though, who would've known it would rain this heavily?

He made a quick turn into a dark alley and prayed to the Lord that there were no violent gangs present. A band of squeaking rats sped past him and buttery lights from the apartments siding him appeared to be warm. This was where they told him to meet.

"You're late."

The voice made his heart skip a beat and he swiftly turned to where it came from. Before him was the silhouette of a man with an umbrella. His ominous presence made goosebumps creep up the lanky man's arms.

"Do you have it?"

The slender man nodded and extended a parcel wrapped in nylon. Black-clad hands grabbed it from him swiftly.

"This isn't what we asked for," the man with the umbrella said.

"That is because it wasn't there. I searched every nook and cranny for Robert's blueprint of the moon lamp and I saw nothing."

"So what is this?"

"Something far interesting. Something related to Captain Asher Newman. I saw the Captain visit him yesterday. Finding this in his office should be no coincidence."

"Very well."

The man with the umbrella put the parcel into a pocket in his long overcoat and then, brought out a brown bag. He gave it to the lanky man in the cloak who proceeded to check the amount of money. When he was satisfied, he smiled and nodded.

"Leave town for now," The man with the umbrella said.

The lanky man frowned. "Why?"

"Because Robert Stark would be coming for you. And you won't like what he'll do to you when he finds you."

The skinny man gulped; he had bitten the tail of a tiger.

The wind was cool, soft and gentle. All were properties Robert lacked and it infuriated Ella further. The evening sky was lined with shades of pink and orange, silhouetted birds flying and singing in the distance. Ella, dressed in a black night dress, sat in her family's garden, a book in her hand, thickets of roses and lavender lining both sides of the fence. She slouched on the bench, brown eyes facing the sky and wondering why Robert would hate her so much.

All she wanted was to be his protege; learn under his mastery and finally make the moon lamp side by side with him. But after what happened today- she blew out air. Was it all a plan by Robert to get rid of her? Had he grown tired of her presence that he was willing to do whatever it took to get rid of her? She remembered the flash of anger in his eyes, the way he spoke to her, the heat emanating from his body when he had her cornered.

What letter was that? Why did it mean so much? The torrent of thoughts plagued her and she wished she could get rid of them. Robert had made it entirely clear that he didn't want to see as much as her ghost in his office. She couldn't stay at home.

Luckily enough, she was able to escape a visit from Gerrard today. What if she wasn't at work? What would've happened? Who knew if he would've asked to promenade-Gods, the thought was walking through London with a man like that, sent her stomach to war.

She needed to prove to her father that a woman was capable of doing what a man could. That way, she'll make her family proud. That has been all she ever wanted-to use her talents to bring pride to her family.

The sound of feet on the grass made her swerve back to the house. Juliet was standing at the door, hands before her white dress, blonde hair tied upward into a bun. Her blue eyes carried the weight of true compassion and it broke Ella's heart to see her friend look at her that way.

"Jules," her voice softened.

"Ellie." Juliet rushed to her and embraced her in a tight hug.

Ella let her storm of emotions pour out from the chamber of her heart. The tears of forgone dreams blessed her cheeks and she wondered if she was ever going to be the first British woman to change history forever. She wondered if she was ever going to make her parents proud. She sobbed, her shoulders rising and falling, her dreams hanging in the balance.

"Shh, it's alright." Juliet caressed Ella's brown hair, serenading her hurtful thoughts. The thoughts of a girl who was about to lose her dream.

Ella withdrew from the hug and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know I paid you no attention when I came back today. I was-I was caught up in my heavy emotions that I didn't bother to let you comfort me."

"It's fine, dear," Juliet tucked a strand of hair behind her friend's ear. " Now tell me, did someone try to get into your goodies?"

"No!" Ella frowned. "Jules, that's unethical."

Juliet sighed heavily. "Thank Graces. So what on earth could you possibly be crying about?"

"Robert sacked me."

"No," Juliet's heart visibly sank. Her eyes told the tale. "He wouldn't dare."

"It appears Lord Robert loves dares."

"What happened?"

Ella drew in a much-needed breath. "He appeared to be looking for this letter and all of a sudden, he began to blame it on me. He kept asking me for the letter and I told him it wasn't in my possession."

"That cobbery wanker," Juliet gritted her teeth. "I'm going to teach him some manners. How dare he take away your dream because of something you did not do?"

Blimey, Ella knew her friend was going into full beast mode and if she didn't do anything to stop her, Juliet may do something she would regret. So, to calm her, she gently placed a hand fondly on her shoulder and shook her head.

"Don't you want me to beat the bloody narcissism out of him?" Juliet asked.

Ella shook her head. "Beating him lessens my chances of ever working for him again."

"So what are you going to do?" Juliet reclined on the bench and watched the sky. "Don't tell me you're willing to let your dream slip out of your fingers. You've always wanted this. Now you've got it, it would be a shame if you let some friggin letter get in your way."

"I know, Jules. Trust me, I know."

She spun to Ella and held both her hands, blue eyes locked to brown ones.

"So ask yourself this Ellie; are you willing to let London's Rake have his say, or would you be a strong woman and get up your friggin arse and do something?"

Ella shut her eyes and went through the gears of her mind. Her body and soul were in accord and she knew what she had to do.

As much as Robert had to dwell on yesterday's disaster, he also knew he had to take away such thoughts by waking up next to three strikingly beautiful brunettes in his townhouse. He couldn't spend the night at the Stark Mansion. While the women laid clad in nothing, he slipped out of bed bare and walked over to his side wall table. His two glorious peaches shook and rippled, his hands running through his blonde hair exasperatedly.

He took the bourbon from the wooden table and poured himself an amber-coloured whiskey. Shifting his curtains aside, the streaks of sunlight struck past his face, etching his sharp jawline to perfection. As he stared into the city of London, he wondered how he ended up here. Of course, it had to be the ball. She impressed him with her dazzling intelligence and fooled him into letting her in his life.

It had to be Gerrard behind this. Robert's guts never failed him but maybe this time, it was wrong about Ella. He pondered on why Ella would want to do anything like that in the first place. Surely Gerrard wouldn't be willing to stoop so low as to use a woman to sneak past his defences.

Robert gulped the entire cup and hissed under his breath. "Damn you, Gerrard Finley."

Setting the cup back where he saw it, he swathed himself in a morning robe and dropped the women's payment on the bedside table, the coins clinking. He proceeded to his coat hanger and dipped his hands into his tail coat's pocket. His eyes grew panicked when he kept searching for them. His bloody keys!

Just then, it blazed before his eyes; Walking down the lobby of his London office building, someone bumping into him- not someone, the lanky doorman. Just then, he remembered he didn't feel the usual jingling in his pockets. Hands brushing past his pockets, Ella catching him-

"Shite!" His jaws dropped. "It was the doorman."

He stole his keys. That was the only explanation for how the letter was stolen without a break-in. It was the doorman all this while! In a few minutes, he was already dressed in a red coat and was in his fastest carriage.

Gerrard's words from the ball rang through his head. "Let me give you a hint; Door and man."

Gerrard was arrogant enough to let him know about the doorman because he felt Robert wouldn't be able to understand it. And now because of his ignorance to Gerrard's words, it had cost him a letter.

"Elliot, can the horses go any faster?" Robert asked impatiently from the back of the carriage.

"Yes, My Lord!" The man in the box replied.

"Then break their friggin legs!"

"Hiyäh!" Elliot yelled and the horse neighed at the top of their bloody lungs. Robert didn't care if the horses ran out of breath, he needed to get to the office and fast!

He was wrong at last, Ella wasn't the one who stole the letter. Guilt haunted his conscience and he wondered if Ella was ever going to forgive him. He screamed at her, even yelled at her. He knew what he had to do to make things right. But for now, he had to focus on finding that skinny bastard. And if he truly had his bunch of keys, the matter had truly escalated. One of those keys was the igniter of his project. Without it, there was no way to turn on the moon lamp and creating another key would take weeks.

The carriage halted and Robert hopped out of it, coming face to face with Howard who had a confused look on his face. How would he not? Robert had called him earlier and asked to meet here while sounding like he just had tea with the mad hatter.

"My Lord," Howard opened a hand, "what happened?"

"Mr Law didn't steal the letters."

"I know her name is Ella Featherington," Howard revealed. "I did my digging days ago."

Robert's mandible threatened to fall off. "You sly son of a bachelor."

"It's one of the reasons why I'm still working for you," Howard said, chest pumped with pride. "So, back to what you were saying. If she didn't do it, who did?"

Robert looked at the entrance of his tall office building. The lanky doorman wasn't at his usual post today. Good graces, the thief was right in front of him but because he was so blinded by his urge to get rid of Ella, he blamed her.

"The doorman did," Robert divulged as they walked into the building.

"How in a million shillings would that ever happen?"

They both began climbing the stairs to Robert's office. "Yesterday, he bumped into me and stole my key. I just remembered!"

"How sure are you about this?"

"A hundred per cent."

Howard pursed his lips and opened Robert's office door for him. "As much as I hate to say it, I believe you owe Miss Featherington an apology."

Robert strolled in, hands on his waist, "I agree. But for now, I need you to get me everything we have on that doorman. We're going hunting."

"Okay, My Lord."

And Robert was willing to let blood flow.