[Welcome to the Secret Chapter. As usual this has no bearing on the plot of the story. It is just an amusing side note. If you wish to, just skip ahead to the next chapter to continue the true tale.]  

It is a day of scorching Australian heat as I sit here in front of a blasting air-con. Perhaps it is not the best time to invite an English gentleman to tea, but here it goes.....

Cain paces my lounge room in a well pressed suit with cravat slightly open at the neck.

"Cain." I grab his attention and he turns to me a bit startled.

I smile, "Do you know who I am?" I am not expecting him to recognise his own author but as ice breakers go, it's not that bad.

He tilts his head to the side and questions incredulously- "Liara?"

I have to admit that I did base a lot of the three main characters on people I know. Liara happens to be very similar to me so I roll with it.

"Yes, in a manner of speaking." I respond laughing under my breath before gesturing him to the Victorian style red settee, perhaps it will make him feel more at home. "Won't you sit?"

He frowns a little at my brightly, if haphazardly, decorated Christmas tree before reclining on the couch with practiced ease.

"Cain, I brought you here because I wanted to talk to you about Verushka." I begin.

He smiles like he has a secret; the corner of his lips turn up just a fraction. "What about her? She's your friend."

I'm surprised he hasn't asked me about the oddity of stepping into a time so clearly not his own but is content to discuss his maid. I take a deep breath before continuing, "Well, the thing is Cain - that I am quite certain that you and Verushka are soulmates."

I watch his eyebrows rise.

"In all honesty, I am from a time long after you have lived and I am an author who is writing about your relationship and life with her, as well as your friends Jay and Marco."

His eyes squint just a fraction as he reveals elements of the great political figure I know him to be beneath the mask of a dandy. "Why?" he questions me untrustingly.

I drain the last remnants of tea from my giant Harry Potter mug and move to sit next to him on the couch. "I'll be honest, it started as a way to pass the time but now I almost think that I was meant to write it. It's as if I'm writing the past lives of the people I know. I know it sounds strange... trust me, I think it's strange as well."

He doesn't appear entirely impressed with my answer. Maybe he thinks I'm crazy too but he lets it slide and instead meanders through my home inspecting trinkets and photo frames. He finds a picture of my cousin who was the spark of creation for the character of Verushka. I have a feeling that I know what's coming as he turns to look at me over his shoulder.

"Who is this?" he queries

"I think you know who it is," I wait to see what his reaction would be. I don't let myself get too bothered about his interest in her. It's not as if he controls the flow of my pen. I mean, I'm the author... right?

He moves aside the cheesy tourist magnets that hold it in place and slips the photo away from the fridge between his long fingers. He appears to look longingly at the picture that bears the image of the woman he knows as his maid, dressed in clothes so foreign to him, and laughing with two girls he recognises only as Mina and Liara.

And then he vanishes.... with the picture.

I sit typing at my computer wondering where Cain has gotten to when I glance back at the red settee he occupied this morning. He is laying there across three cushions with booted feet up over the arm rest and he appears to be reading a copy of Jane Eyre.

Curiouser and curiouser ...

"Cain," I utter hoping to break his concentration.

He holds up a single index finger indicating that I wait until he is finished. When he seems to be done he bookmarks his page with the picture of Verushka that he pilfered from my fridge and sits upright.

"Liara, what am I doing here?"

I don't correct his use of my name. "I was just hoping to talk to you; find out what you think about your maid and what's happening in your life right now."

He arches one perfect brow and I am starting to understand why it annoys Verushka so much. "Don't you already know? I mean, why ask me when you are clearly writing my story?"

He sounds annoyed. I can understand why. I'd be pretty pissed too if I thought someone other than myself held the reins of my life.

A death threat, a long talk and at least one more mug of tea later...

Cain appears opposite me sitting on the gleaming oak coffee table. He appears a little dishevelled, no waistcoat nor jacket. His shirt is loose at the neck and he moves to sit next to me on the matching oak couch as he unbuttons his cuffs and smiles.

"So, you want to ask me some questions."

"Yes," I reply. "It's time to talk about Verushka."

He starts to undo his laces and kicks off his boots, and I find myself a tad disconcerted by how comfortable he is in my house.

"First, I have a few questions," he informs me before leaning across my notepad and declaring - "Your handwriting is atrocious."

I glare at him with no small amount of distaste. "Kindly sit back," I order him attempting to grab hold of this conversation.

He rolls his eyes in what I can only assume is a practiced motion and I wonder whether I sit here with the mask or the man.

"Shoot," I say.

Cain gifts me with one of his patent dazzling smiles. "What is your Verushka like?"

"Umm.. she's fine. Just, you know, normal."

He appears concerned, "Does she does have anyone like me in your time?"

I don't meet his eyes when I respond, "Ummm....well... not yet."

He seems pleased, so I add- "But she does date."

Haha!

No wait, bad move.

His eyes narrow and he leans forward. "What is date?"

"It's.... kind of like courting but with multiple people... and you don't necessarily marry them." I describe ineffectually.

He raises a brow and trails off, ".... the Crimson Guild."

"No!" I shout back. "Not at all. It's different here. We try people out and see if we like them a bit more casually than true courting. But, anyway she hasn't found someone yet that she wants to settle down with."

This pleases him again and he relaxes.

I sigh exasperated.

He seems content at this point and lets his head drop to one side resting on the back of the settee to face me. "Ask your questions, Liara."

I take a steadying breath. "What do you think of Verushka so far?"

"She is interesting. A little book sprite. Mischievous and spirited." He pauses and seem concerned. "But, now that you have told me that she is my soulmate it will change everything. It will alter how I look at her."

I realise that I have made an incalculable error- Never reveal the endgame to your characters.

"No." I plead. "You mustn't let it affect you.

"How can I not?" He counters.

"It will change your story, your life, if you do not stick to the same path. Anyway I suspect that you already felt something far deeper and inexplicable for Verushka than rational before I mentioned anything."

He shifts uneasily next to me like he is uncomfortable with the notion that he can't fool his author as easily as he does others with his arsenal of well-crafted emotions.

"So, just stick to that," I continue. "And, after all I could very well be lying. Just imagine if you waltzed up to your maid and said- 'I am your soulmate'."

He had the audacity to smirk at me. "I am sure she would be pleased."

I want to smack the perfect slope of his cheek.

"Don't be stupid Cain. Verushka is not some latest scrap of lace the season has to offer. She would run, not walk, run in the opposite direction and assume that her employer has taken leave of his senses." I glower at him. "She might even support you being committed."

Okay, maybe I'm going a little overboard, but in the interest of keeping his life on an even keel I think that it is worth it.

Cain sits flipping through my discarded notes that I have laying beside me and entertains himself reading the interview that we are having. I snatch the papers back and place them on the other side.

"So, Cain- why did you leave London today?" I prod knowing that he was executing some official actions for the Home Office in a highly dangerous manoeuvre to safeguard the future of his Queen and Country. "Didn't you promise to give Verushka back her book?"

His face hardens, "I had business to attend to."

"What business?" I push wanting more information than the chapters were currently giving me.

"None of yours," he grates. "And, if you insist on this line of questioning you can simply write the story and find out. I am not here for your amusement."

"But, you are here for Verushka's," I shoot back.

"Clever," he acknowledges with a pause.

"I like to think so."

"You know, you and I might be great friends one day." He smiles at me.

"But not yet," I venture.

"No, not yet." he confirms. "And, as to Verushka- yes, I am here for her. Should she ever need me dawn or night, distress or joy, I shall be waiting for her. I have allowed you to guide my eyes and will consent to your advice regarding how to woo her. As my maid is unaware of our 'story' as you call it I shall proceed as if I had not met you."

He retreats inwardly for a few moments contemplating things that I can only guess at. It offers me some time to observe him undisturbed. Even rumpled, pensive and relaxed as he is, the Duke of Bexley is still a creature of great beauty. It is as if the dull light behind dusted shades glance off the golden strands of his hair casting shadows down the line of his jaw. I witness as his author what countless girls, from delicate wallflowers to bawdy Originals, see in his open charm and Grecian profile.

One booted foot, laces half undone and trailing rests on the wooden footstool and the bronzed torso I first saw in Chapter 1 gleams like rough-hewn metal sculptured and warm beneath the open folds of his soft white shirt. Finally he turns to me continuing the conversation as if he had never stopped.

"It is as if I know Verushka, far more than I should," he smiles intimately at the thought. "And, I am eager to get back to my world and meet her again. If you would be so kind-" he inclines his head, gesturing to my pen scrawling frantically over the lined paper.

"Goodbye Cain," I wave in between sweeps of my now cramping hand.

"I imagine you will see me again soon, Liara. Tell Verushka I am coming for her."

And then he vanishes, this time it seems for good.

I hope you enjoyed that little bit of fun!

If you enjoyed this interview I would really appreciate your vote before you continue reading. Thanks!