December 21, 1904.

The valet, Smith, placed a four in hand knot in Willie’s school tie and adjusted it to lie straight. "If I may inquire as to whether you had a pleasant day, sir? Your trousers will require… greater cleaning than usual, I must note. I shall have to treat them as I did when you last went grouse hunting with your grandfather."

"I can tie my own tie, you know," Willie grumbled.

"Yes, Mister William, you can. Quite poorly, I might add. I believe you wish to make an impression on the young lady's parents. Hold still." Smith pulled a nail file from his pocket and began to buff Willie's fingers. "At least you do clean up well when you choose to make the effort."

"Thank you, Smith. That will be all I think." Willie put on his hat. The valet adjusted it. "Smith…"

"You are representing the household, sir." The door behind them opened and Hughes stepped into the parlor.

"How did you know I was going to the Willoughbys?" he asked, suddenly reconsidering Smith's remark about a young lady's parents. Smith replied blandly.

"There are few secrets from the servants, sir."

"Ah, good, there you are," Hughes said, interjecting. "Lord Montverre has sent the carriage for your use as you requested."

"I asked permission to borrow the carriage from Uncle Randolph?" he asked the butler.

"Yes, sir. A footman took over the message."

"I see. Thank you, Hughes. Smith."

"We only wish you success, sir. Smith, get the present for Mister William."

"Present?" Willie asked as Smith ducked into the hall.

"Women always want a present, sir." Smith re-entered and handed his master a ribbon-wrapped box. "These are French bonbons, for you to give to Mrs. Willoughby."

"I had planned to stop on the way and get some fresh flowers," Willie murmured.

"This will prevent you from being late, sir."


As the carriage rattled along towards Willie's appointment he contemplated his activities of earlier in the day. It had been Ivy the maid's half-day off, and he had taken it upon himself to follow her about in an attempt to determine whether she was the spy. If she were, he thought this would probably be the first opportunity she had to try and get the plans out of the house. He had not tried very hard to be inconspicuous, figuring such an attempt would in fact be more likely to draw attention to him. Instead, he had merely worn the oldest clothes still in his closet. He hoped that would give him some vague appearance, at least from a distance, of being a valet wearing his master's castoffs.

It had seemed to work.

Ivy never looked back. Other people might glance twice at him now and then but nobody seemed to stare. Other than providing him with some surveillance experience, and perhaps ruining his trousers, he had achieved little. Ivy had been the most openly disgruntled of the servants and thus, he felt, the most likely thief. But she had not gone anywhere except to her home. There he had found by some cautious questioning of residents and some trouser-ruining eavesdropping that her parents were both alive, had steady if not high quality jobs, and that apparently bad tempers were hereditary. Willie had finally decided to move her from his short list of probable suspects to his long list of those who were merely possible thieves. It seemed his investigation would not be as short as he had hoped.

The Montverre carriage rattled to a halt in front of a mellow Georgian brick residence stained black from soot and smog. The footman opened the door. Willie stepped down onto the pavement in front of the terraced house. The Willoughby family butler showed him into the parlor. Lucy was sitting next to her mother, eyes alight with mischief.

After the introductions were complete, Willie offered Mrs. Willoughby the bonbons. "I would never have guessed you were Lucy's mother," he said "I should have thought you were sisters." Mrs. Willoughby accepted the flattery with a smile. Willie smiled back.

"So when did you meet Lucy?" she asked. "The day of the German Embassy reception," Willie told her. A glance to the side showed Lucy with her hand to her mouth, repressing laughter. "I had no idea she was a friend of my cousin Emma until that night."

"The weather is so cold. I hope you didn't get chilled on the way over here," Mrs. Willoughby asked.

"Not at all," Willie replied. "I came in my uncle's carriage, which is very nice."

"And did you enjoy the reception?"

"I certainly enjoyed dancing with Miss Willoughby," Willie said, giving Lucy a smile.

"Your steps certainly matched very well," her mother told him.

"It's so fortunate Dear Emma was there," Lucy added. "Otherwise I might never had gotten to dance with Mr. Montverre."

"Oh, I would have found a mutual acquaintance," Willie replied. "Even if I had to ask the ambassador to introduce us." The three laughed at this while a servant entered with the tea tray.

"Excuse me, Mama," Lucy said after the tea had been served. "But there is a meeting of the National Union of Women's Suffrage Societies tonight. I thought Mr. Montverre might escort me, if he does not have other plans. May I go?" Willie could see from the glint in her eye this was a test.

"I can certainly imagine no better way to spend an evening than to escort such a charming young lady to such an important event," he responded.

"Indeed, Millicent Fawcett herself will be there," Lucy told her mother.

"Well, that does seem quite respectable," Mrs. Willoughby allowed. "You aren't planning to take anything disreputable like a Hansom, are you? Or your uncle's carriage?" she inquired sharply of William.

"It is a cold but rather nice evening. I think we could walk there," Willie replied. "If it is not too far?" he asked Lucy. She assured him it was not. "I had best go change into something more suitable," she said, indicating her lace dress. "Excuse me." She smiled at Willie and departed.

"So, Mr. Montverre," Mrs. Willoughby said. "Why don't you tell me about your uncle, Lord Montverre?"

"He is very interested in modern technology," Willie said after a moment.

"Oh?"

"Yes, he's actually been to the Exposition Universelle of 1900, just to look at the diesel engine."

"Do tell me about it," she said.


Some time later Willie escorted Lucy out the front door. "Your mother is very nice," he told her. "But I think her questioning style could get her work for the Spanish Inquisition."

"Be nice." Lucy elbowed him in the side, but gently.

"So we are going to a NUWSS meeting? I hope you do not take offense but… when we first met I thought you were a suffragette."

"Oh, but I am!" she said with a broad smile at his expression. "But I can't take you to a meeting of the Women's Social and Political Union! They don't allow men to join," she told him. "And they meet Fridays, anyhow." Willie hummed tunelessly for a moment.

"And how long are these meetings, on average?" he inquired.

"Not as long as Mama thinks they are!" Lucy laughed and gave Willie's arm a squeeze. "Come on, let's go!" Shocked, but happy, Willie followed.