An ankle-length, emerald dress hugged Esmé's frame. Her eyes stared at her reflection in the mirror, a dull expression in her features. Leslie had prepped her Lady neatly for dinner tonight, but no matter how splendid she looked, if Esmé didn't change the look on her face, there was no saving her from naff commentary the upcoming hours.

Alder Benson had invited Jack and his father, Robert Winston, over for dinner. Esmé hadn't seen her fiance in two weeks after he had left with Everett - priorly known as Dean - that one day. She was unaware of what he was after and why he avoided her, although Esmé had tried to contact him.

They had arrived, seated in the dining hall but Esmé was still up in her room, finding something to keep herself busy with - her dress, her makeup, dreading what was to come.

"Lady Esmé, I think-"

"I know," She huffed, cutting Leslie off. It was about time that Esmé went downstairs before her father sent Mr Schubert up to get her. "Please, stay nearby. Let's leave if the situation comes to a head."

Leslie nodded, assuring her, "I'll find a way to excuse you out if I have to."

Esmé remained vacant yet reticent when she stepped inside the dining hall with Leslie following her close behind. The room had been silent as it was, but when the men around that had gathered around one end of the table noticed the young lady, the temperature dropped even lower, the atmosphere tensing staggeringly.

Jack jumped up from his seat to pull out a chair for Esmé, Alder's eyes tailing her piercingly. Robert's gaze was fixed to the food in front of him, seemingly in deep thought. When she approached the table, he looked up, a weak smile spread on his lips. He nodded, acknowledging.

Esmé sat down next to Jack quietly across her father and Robert. Leslie was quick to serve her some soup and for a while, they ate in silence until her father wiped his mouth with a napkin. He folded his hands on the table, inhaling sharply, "So, Jack, what have you been occupied with lately?"

Jack coughed lightly, his charcoal-like eyes taking a glimpse of Esmé before turning towards her father with a bland look, "Trying to sort things out, sir."

"You've been avoiding me. Lester, too." Esmé watched her father take a big gulp of water before continuing, "I asked you to find the journalist that published the article about you. Do you have anything?"

Not knowing how to respond, Jack could only shake his head, his jaw strained.

"Esmé still hasn't gotten used to wear her ring," Esmé's head snapped up, her lips pressed into a thin line. She hoped imploringly that he wouldn't use this moment to scold her, but his next words took her by surprise, "But if you don't manage to solve this problem, Jack, I won't aim at changing that- I'll aim at you."

"Alder, my friend-" Robert cleared his throat, but the Lt. Colonel cut him off.

"I remember asking you to get rid of said journalist." Robert sighed slowly, slumping in his seat. He ran his palm over his face, frustrated as Alder continued to speak, "This whole marriage is enacted to consolidate power. The streets are rife with tension, and this contract is our way to relieve those strains. But that article about you was anything but favourable. Do you know what'll happen if it comes to surface what happened years ago? I'll lose my position."

Esmé couldn't follow what the old men were discussing. Her father concealed something, a truth he had caused. Something that William might know about. Seeing the baleful look glistering in his eyes, a cold shudder ran down Esmé's spine.

Her father chuckled grimly, "But before that occurs, I'll find a way to drag you along."

"There'll be no need for that," Jack stated with a sudden confidence that Esmé hadn't seen in him before.

"I'm not sure, young Winston. You need to prove it to me. Do you know what I want you to do?" Alder asked, a challenging tone vibrant in his voice.

"Yes, sir," Esmé observed Jack cautiously, who purposely avoided her frightened look, "I'll take care of the journalist." What did take care mean exactly? Esmé's heart hammered frantically, listening, "I have an idea who he might be." 

Jack turned his head, studying Esmé for an instant in which time appeared to stop flowing for a brief moment. His stare lingered on her, pursing his lips.

Esmé had a hard time comprehending this whole conversation. But she knew that a dreadful state of affairs was ahead of her. Jack was irritated by something she couldn't put her finger on. His gaze then darted to her wrist that was decorated with a black bracelet which he knew just as well as she did.

Jack's next declaration caused a wide grin to spread on Alder Benson's lips and an alarmed thumping in Esmé's chest, "And I'll find out what the Walkers are after and put an end to that."

~~~

An unmistakable cold night in the streets of London. The wind blew more severe than usual, its whistling sounds filling the houses. The windows clattered, and so did the lights inside the pub, flickering every time the blow hit the walls.

"What a night," Charlotte sighed, pulling her red waves up into a ponytail. It was past three am, the last few customers had left. She cleaned up behind the bar, watching her twin friends every so often, checking if they exchanged any chatting.

Ellis was buried in the writing that laid scattered in front of him, studying it, humming fascinated occasionally.

His blonde brother sipped his tea, standing by the window, peering at the new moon night. Even with the recent predicaments and the Walker movement's upcoming intentions, Everett stayed a picture of calm.

"A week is left," Ellis murmured, speaking up to gather his twin's attention. "I'm impressed with what he has found out." He pointed at William who was busy helping Charlotte behind the counter.

"I told you," Everett whirled around. Putting his cup on the table, he sat down across his brother. "He's good in what he does. You should trust him."

Only one week until the Walker Twins and their men would ambush an arms sale. A freighter with weapons from the north was supposed to cross the Thames. Purloining these weapons was to demonstrate the power the Walkers had and try to convince the people to fight against the Generals ruling over the various districts of London who let them suffer through starvation for excessively long.

The past years hadn't been anything near golden to the labour force. Everett and Ellis wanted a change and settle for a well-deserved equilibrium.

"I do trust him," Ellis mumbled, now meeting the icy eyes staring down at him, "But I won't trust the girl."

"You don't have to."

"Are you serious?"

"It's only necessary that I trust her."

Ellis snorted indignantly, "Whatever. It's only surprising to see you get attached to someone of the opposite gender."

"I'm not getting attached," The indifferent tone in Everett's voice was unmistakable.

"Catching feelings. Whatever you want to call it."

Everett glared, but the coal-haired brother sighed slowly only to gaze back at the pages. William walked next to them, peering back and forth between the two men.

"I'll get going then," He stated in a low voice.

"Thank you for helping me clean up, Will," Charlotte called from the back, the brothers looking up at him.

"I'll meet Lady Esmé tomorrow." The journalist said, gaining an acknowledging nod from Everett and confused looks from Ellis.

"See," Ellis folded his hands on the table, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue, "This is what I don't get. What does Esmé Benson have to discuss with you? How come she accepts meeting up with you?"

"I wonder, too," Everett yawned, throwing his head into his neck, eying the journalist suspiciously.

William shrugged, keeping an unreadable look to his face, "We get along. That's it."

"Do you have some sort of shared history with her?" Ellis quirked an eyebrow, but the expression in William's features told him that he would never spill. "You're lucky that I don't care. Else I'd grill you about it."

William nodded only, excusing himself before he headed towards the exit.

"Don't forget to tell her," Everett mumbled under his breath, rubbing his eyes, standing up to leave as well. William lifted his hand with his back facing him, motioning an 'ok' before he escaped through the door.

"And what is that you want him to tell her?" Ellis asked, annoyance gleaming in his voice.

"That I want to see her."

Heaving almost sardonically, Ellis called after him, "Oh, what a cake-eater you've turned into." His eyes followed Everett's lead until he left through a door on the other side of the pub, his hands hid in his pocket, his stance disregardful, not paying any attention to his brother's words.

"Dean, you pesky git!" Ellis added acerbically, causing a loud laughter to erupt out of Charlotte.

"Ellis, careful," A smirk played surreptitiously on her lips, her emerald orbs flickering. "Might get the wrong idea. Are you grudging because you don't have a dame?"

~~~

Esmé laid prone on her bed, her feet tangled up, her hands steadied her face. She stared at the black dotted handkerchief laying in front of her, going through everything she recalled from her latest visit to the White Shore.

Her heartbeat sped up when she thought of Everett's last words. She couldn't estimate where this would lead her, her feelings and her fate, but for the moment, it was worth it. It was thrilling, something she hadn't experienced before.

But the possible outcome of everything was terrifying.

At the end, she wasn't someone from this world. How she ended up in 1928 was still a mystery to her, and turning back was even more doubtful. Growing all these attachments would leave her brokenhearted and shattered. But that was how life worked, right? Allowing yourself to float in the moment, ignorant to where you ended up.

Esmé was pulled out of her trail of thoughts when the door to her bedroom creaked open, and Wyatt's head figured through the small gap. "What is this?"

"What do you mean?" She rolled around, throwing her legs over the edge, eyeing her brother curiously. He stood in the doorframe with his loose shirt and pants, his hair tousled, looking like some sort of sundowner.

"Do I look like I'm a homing pigeon?"

"No?" She furrowed her eyebrows, having difficulties following his discourse.

"William is here."

This was all it took for Esmé to jump up from her bed, grab the nearest thick coat she could reach. She was about to head out when Wyatt grabbed her arm, forcing her to come to a halt.

"What?"

"Don't you have anything to say, thank you for example?" He quirked an eyebrow, watching her expectantly.

"Thank you for playing the carrier pigeon?"

"No," He huffed, "Such as; thank you for covering for me when dad asks."

"Ah," Esmé chuckled, "Thank you for that, too." She escaped his hold, rushing down the stairs, through the corridor to enter the garden. Jogging until she reached the entrance of the forest, it wasn't hard to spot the dark figure standing a few feet away.

Esmé approached William with a slight smile tugging at her lips. But feeling out of breath, it took her a moment before she could properly greet him, "Good evening, William."

"Good evening to you, too Lady Esmé." He returned her smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. His voice was calm, appearing more level-headed and mature than their last conversation. She studied him; his chestnut hair had grown longer, and his green eyes had turned a few shades darker, gloomy even. Her gaze landed on the scar behind his ear, still unaware of who had cut him so horribly.

"How did you find out?" William was quick to cut to the case without hesitation. Being in the Bensons' garden, they wouldn't have much time to make small talk until someone would look for Esmé.

"I knew all along but I missed it somehow - to spot Dean as Everett I mean," It slipped her tongue. Esmé was assuming William knew where she came from, but in fact, he didn't. Yet he didn't question. He was the only one she could be truthful with; insignificant how ensnared her thoughts were.

"It took me a while to remember." She added.

"To remember that you met him in the past?"

"No," A hard breath pushed past her lips, "I can't tell you how I knew. It doesn't matter." In this world, it didn't. The photography she had seen in the museum, might not even be taken yet. "What about you?"

"I'm good at putting pieces together. I've been around Dean for a while, and he hasn't been too cautious. He doesn't bother anymore."

"Oh," That was all Esmé could note upon listening to William.

"I wanted to tell you when the time was right, but you acted beforehand." He explained, beginning to walk further into the forest, gesturing her to follow him.

"We didn't find any opportunity to talk, so I just-" Her head fell to the front. She had acted impulsively. Ellis had been on the brink of running at her. Everything could have ended going down the drain for her. But it didn't.

"The article." She said, stopping in her track to gaze up into his impassible eyes.

"I wrote it to rumble Thomas Lester," William spoke indifferently, staring up into the sombre night. "Jack happened to founder with him."

A smothering silence followed. Esmé shifted on her spot, not being able to tear her glance away from him. Why did it seem like he changed? To be more precise: why did it look like someone had hurt him?

"You mentioned something about an arson attack five years ago." Esmé murmured, wrapping her coat tighter around her frame. She shivered, but it wasn't because of the chill weather. It was the appalling notions she experienced imagining.

"Five years ago, there was a fire in Haringey. A few families died, one of them being my parents." His words came down on her like a ton of bricks. Esmé was at loss for anything to say. She looked to the ground, her shoulders slumping, a small 'I'm sorry' briefly escaped her lips.

"Thomas and five other men targeted two of those families. The others just happened to be in the wrong places at the wrong time. My mother was visiting Imogen Walker that night."

Esmé's gasped, her hand covering her mouth, "Is that-"

"Yes," He cut her off, breathing heavily as his fingers ruffled his hair, pulling at its end. "The twins' mum. My father passed, trying to save them."

Her chest tightened, fighting to hold up her poise. She wanted to comfort William, help him with whatever he wanted her to do, but seeing from his iced mien, he didn't want any comfort.

"I brought it up again to find out who ordered him to do it."

"What's with the other five men?"

"Imprisoned." William finally turned around, studying her. "Only Thomas was discharged. Probably because someone protected him."

He didn't have to say anything further for Esmé to understand who he referred to. Everyone believed it was her father - Alder Benson. But why would he give out an order to murder innocent families?

Peering into the shadows of the forest sprawling in front of her eyes, Esmé felt tired. Her hands trembled, feeling numb. Her heart clenched in her chest, a wave of teariness sweeping over her.

"What do you want to do now? Are you with Everett and Ellis because you have the same intentions?" Her question hung in the air, fraughting as William seemingly debated what to respond.

"They have no idea that I lost my parents in that fire."

"Oh." Quiescence again.

William played with a rock on the ground, his breathing steady as Esmé watched the little wisps that appeared when he breathed out. Her eyes fixed to the scar behind his ear and before she could ask him about it, William provided her an answer.

"Lester did that when I tried to confront him after he murdered my parents."

A knot formed in Esmé's throat, "I don't know what to-"

"You don't have to say anything," He chuckled, "You shouldn't sympathise with me. I'm only helping you because I hope that through you I can find out the truth and retaliate for my parents."

After a second thought, he added, "You could say I'm a little bit selfish."

He might be, but he had all the right, so Esmé thought. She never would have guessed that William had suffered through all of this. He was young; probably the same age as her, but life had wounded him tremendously.

"In the end, we both get something out of this," He uttered, "I'll have your back if you have mine."

Esmé looked up to meet his curious green orbs. A half-hearted smile spread on her lips, nodding, although she didn't know what it was that she wanted. Every day, something else was put on her shoulders to push her down, but she held her back upright.

"You should steer clear of Jack," William mumbled, "He is the only one in the picture that I can't quite figure out. He could be a nuisance."

"He is a nuisance." Esmé pursed her lips, "He is after you, William."

"I know," He exhaled deeply, "This must be a lot for you take in." He added, snickering, "Actually, I came here to ask you how you've been?"

She quirked an eyebrow, snorting, "Well, you're very late to ask that."

William scratched the back of his neck, suddenly a shy look prominent in his features, "Sorry about that. I jumped into it, didn't I?"

"Yup."

"Well, have you been alright?" He dragged the question, trying to take a glimpse at her.

"I'm trying to be." Esmé murmured, "Have you found out about the woman with the green bracelet?"

"I should ask you that," William countered, "It's on you to look for her."

"How am I supposed to find anyone if I can't leave this bloody house." She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Is she an ally or an enemy? I really hope she's a friend."

"I'm not sure." Was all William said as they both fell into silence again.

As if all the current twisted happenings weren't enough already, there was still that woman William had mentioned. Never having seen her, unaware of who she could be, Esmé could only hope that he was wrong and there wasn't any other person she had to worry about.

Realising how late it had gotten, Esmé spun on her heel, "You should get going," She reached for his arms, turning him around, "Next time, you should show me the way through this forest." A sincere laugh erupted in him. "How do you get here?"

William smirked slightly, shrugging with wide eyes as he began to stride off. He lifted his arm, waving goodbye, but then he came to a halt abruptly.

"Oh, I almost forgot." He called with an eager tone to his voice, "He wants to meet you tomorrow."

"Who?" Esmé furrowed her brows, her heart increasing in rate.

"Dean," William shook his head, "Everett I mean. Come to the bus station near the pub. He'll pick you up from there."

"And what for?" She licked her lips nervously as a deep chuckle passed William's lips. He strolled further into the forest, staring at her with his mouth agape.

"What do you mean what for? It's a date, woman."