Ella’s hand covered her mouth as Robert bent down to inspect Cowper’s cold white body. They were in a grey floored cell with a grate at the top sneaking in a bit of sunlight. Robert placed two fingers at Cowper's neck, checking his pulse. His eyes flared and the reality sunk into everyone’s heads.

“He’s dead,” Robert said, his voice low and calm. Ella noticed him take a deep breath, almost as if any sort of hope he had to find that letter vanished into thin air. It wasn’t fair. She knew this moonlamp meant a lot to him. The only thing was, she didn't know why it meant so much to him.

Howard smacked his hand against the metal door of the cell, his eyes burning with rage.

“Shit,” he let out, his teeth clenching.

"Do you think Gerrard did this?" Ella asked. He could be a suspect since he asked Cowper to steal the letter.

"I'm sure as hell that he is responsible for this. He's trying to cover up his tracks," Howard replied.

"Gerrard Finley," Robert said under his breath, his fists tightening harder. "He always finds a way to get what he wants."

Was Gerrard this evil? Was he willing to kill? If he was truly willing to do that, then they were in trouble. That may be the reason her father didn't look happy when he found out Gerrard was interested in her. He probably knew how dangerous Gerrard was. But if he did, he wouldn't let him go close to her, would he?

Captain Asher on the other hand kept a straight face and for some reason, out of the other men, she felt like hugging him the most. It was absurd and she knew it. She had only known this man for a few days. Yet, she felt an unusual connection with him that almost felt natural.

“I take full responsibility for this,” Captain Asher said, nodding subtly, “This man was in my care and I let such a thing happen to him. I advise we take the only logical step forward."

Robert stood, running a hand through his hair. “Finding Emily’s parents before Gerrard figures out what the letter means. We can't risk damaging her reputation or yours."

"You're a good man, Lord Robert. I’ll make sure I find who did this.”

Robert tipped his top hat at the captain and put it on, gesturing at Howard and Ella to follow him. They exited the house and a carriage pulled in front of them. Howard and Robert got in and Ella hesitated. She had somewhere to be now. Her friend needed her help.

“What’s the problem, Mr Law?”

Ella wondered how he still managed to call her Mr Law after what happened between them in the carriage. But she assumed he was doing this to protect himself, not her. He wouldn’t want anything to damage his chances of making that moon lamp that he loved so much.

“I just remembered a friend of mine needs my help.” She said.

He gave her a long look before he nodded. “Sure. Attend to your friend. If you have any problem, write to me.”

Write to me. Those words swam in her head as the carriage departed leaving her alone in front of a cottage guarded by two hefty men in uniforms. Was Lord Robert being caring? Snapping out of her reverie, she walked down the sandy floor of the state and stopped a cabbie by the time she was outside the big gates of the building.

*****

Ella hopped out of her cab, glancing around her. This area was where the working-class people of London resided. Big factory buildings were bringing out smoke from their chimneys at every corner of the streets. Down on the road were people dressed in half-decent clothes, selling their wares to on walkers.

There were stands selling fruits, the newly made toothbrush and other accessories Ella was sure she didn’t require. She reread the directions Juliet had given her earlier and then she saw a landmark she had told her about. A polling station. It was far ahead, the light mist formed from the factory smokes covering the feet of the columns holding its portico. She started for it, her heart beating heavily with each step she took.

Her body heated up, the thoughts of what this man did to her friend fueling her anger. The man, whose name she later found out to be Rikkard reminded her of Robert. He made her feel giddy inside just like the way Rikkard did to Juliet. If Ella wasn’t careful, what happened to her friend would happen to her.

Reaching the polling station, she saw a few men drifting in and out of the place. She couldn’t wait for the day women would be allowed to vote. Maybe they could finally vote men out of power. For they were all distractions and her friend had fallen, victim. She took a sharp turn by her right, entering a street with tall office buildings, the floor cobbled with fine stones. She kept her eyes on the doors and then stopped when she saw a sign on a big door that read "Rikkard publishing."

This was the place. She took a deep breath, brought out her chest and made sure her beard was in place. Then she ascended the row of stairs that led to the building. Opening the door, she entered a small lobby that had a receptionist desk and a man with short black hair sat behind it, a monocle over his eyes and a grey moustache over his mouth.

This was just like Robert’s office building. Except that this time, there was no large lobby that was so wide people could run through them. Instead what was present was a small lobby with walls and a door that Ella felt led into another room.

“Excuse me, sir,” The man said, raising a brow. “How may I help you?”

“I’m here to see Mr Rikkard,” Ella said.

The man took her in one full disdainful look. She had to admit, she wouldn’t be looking like someone rich enough to see the honourable Mr Rikkard. And she meant that with high-grade sarcasm.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No.”

“Then I’m afraid you can't get inside here.”

Oh, we shall see, Ella thought.

“What’s that rat over there?”

The man was stupid enough to turn and she dashed to the door swinging it open. A bullpen of offices filled with men holding all forms of paper welcomed her. The room was a large papery mess. Ella could hear the receptionist curse behind her and immediately took off, not having any idea where she was heading to.

“Catch that man!”

Ella burst through the door, entering a wide platform that had printing presses at every corner, the sound of engines tearing up the room. She could hear the voices of the men who had joined in the chase for her. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she glanced around looking for a room that looked like an office. That was probably where Rikkard’s office was.

She bumped into someone and before she knew what was happening, she had a strong hand grabbing her out of the publishing house. Dust spewed into the air as she was tossed into the streets, her black trousers getting stained. She tried running up the stairs that led to the entrance only to have the doors of the building slammed before her face.

Damn these men and their foolishness. She had to see Rikkard and speak some sense into him. She didn’t know how she was going to let Juliet know she was unable to achieve anything today. Sighing, she pointed at the door of the office and said a word too indecent for a lady.

There was always going to be another day. She would try this once again. One way or the other, Ella was going to make sure she met Rikkard. Her friend would never be a single mother.

The ride back home was quiet as Ella pondered on what happened over the few days. Wherever she was, she was on the losing side. Her friend had a lover who didn’t want to take responsibility for his actions and the only hope they had to know who had stolen the letter was gone. Right at the alleyway next to Juliet’s house, she knocked on the door and in the blink of an eye, the door was torn open by a wide-eyed Juliet.

“What’s goi—”

Juliet dragged her into her room and placed a finger on Ella’s peach lips,

“Don’t talk too loud.”

“Wham hmape.” Ella took off Juliet’s finger from her mouth and asked, “What happened?”

“Your mother has been downstairs for the past thirty minutes and has been asking for you.”

“Frigg!”

Ella scurried to Juliet’s wardrobe and tore it open with feline power, her eyes searching frantically for her clothes. If her mother saw her in this male costume, Ella would be saying goodbye to working for Robert and her dreams would be out of reach. She was so close now. If they became lucky, she was going to prove to her father that women could be as smart as men. He should just wait and see.

“Where’s my bloody corset?” Ella asked, her hands shaking nervously. Juliet raced to her and looked inside. Her eye sparked as if she remembered something and then she bolted to the other end of her room and bent under her bed, bringing out the corset. She tossed it to Ella and she caught it with so much finesse, fixing it onto her bodice. “Why in St Nicholas's name was it under there?”

“My mother sent one of the maids to clean and I had to hide it. I also told the maid you went out to get extra paint to explain your absence.

Ella took in a deep breath as she wore her gown, Juliet behind her, hands on the straps behind her friend’s dress.

“Thank you, Jules.”

“I'll do anything for you.” She pointed at a painting on a canvas that was reclining on a painting stand. “I did the painting so if your mother thought it needful to ask for proof, I would show her that.”

Ella smiled in her heart. Her friend was an angel sent from above and she felt devastated that she was unable to help her too. If only Rikkard wasn’t such an arse. She couldn’t wait to plant him with a facer. Maybe after that, he would think twice before messing with her friend. Once she finished dressing up, she gave Juliet a big hug before she ran down the stairs of her friend’s house. Her mother was already at the base of the stairs tapping her feet impatiently.

“Ella!” She said excitedly once she spotted her daughter. Ella thought her mother would’ve been annoyed by her tardiness but for the fact that she was this excited, she was already scared of the reason.

“Mother,” she said. “You look happy.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Her mother dragged her by the hands and led her onto the streets of London. “I have the best of news.”

Ella groaned inwardly. The last time her mother told her she had the best news, it didn’t go well if she remembered clearly.

“Well, what is it?”

“You’ve received an invite to attend Sir Gerrad Finley’s ball. We have to make haste. You shall need to polish your shoes, make your hair…”

Her mother’s voice faded off and the only thing that was screaming inside Ella's head was; Friggin shite!

The smell of foot threatened to drive Robert insane as he woke up to the sole of a foot planted on his face. He pushed aside the leg of the thick woman he had brought home last night and glanced around his room. The poles that held his curtains were slanting out of placement. He knew he had told the woman to take off her hands from his curtains. Women, he thought. They tended to lose all senses when he was inside them.

Sighing, he got out of bed and wrapped a white sheet around his waist, his abdominal and arm muscles flexing as he tied the cloth into place. After what happened yesterday, he needed to do something to take his mind off things.

He kissed Ella. It felt a lot different from other kisses. The touch of her lips made him warm and fuzzy inside and he wonder what sort of feeling that was. But what stood out the most from yesterday was the fact that she didn't want to continue the kiss. He wasn't used to being rejected.

He had kissed her at first because he wanted to shut her up. That seemed to work with most ladies. Though he couldn't understand why he found himself unusually thinking about her. It was just a bloody kiss. He could kiss any woman he wanted. But still, he couldn't get the one he did with Ella out of his mind.

A click snapped him out of his reverie and from one of the pneumatic tubes on the walls, a rolled-up paper shot out and he quickly caught it before it went to the other side of the room.

Was it his mother again? He certainly hoped not. Opening the paper, he saw it was an invitation letter to Gerrard’s ball. At the bottom left, handwritten in ink, it said; turn the paper around. He rolled it up to the other side and saw an additional note. It said;

I believe you would not want to miss this. I am clearly convinced that you remembered that woman I danced with at your family’s ball. Well, this time, I intend to make her lose her honour in front of everyone. And whatever happens to her is all your fault.

“Ella,” Robert could only say her name. Why was Gerrard doing this? What was his plan? Robert knew there was only one way to find out; Go to the ball and protect Ella from becoming the talk of the town.