Mary always loved visiting Grace. That was until she had made up the lie of wanting to know Joseph more, because she was considering courting him. Not only did her mother believe the lie, everyone in London did too – including Joseph.

Visiting Grace was now a challenge of avoiding Joseph. The man believed that whenever Mary came to the Kipling estate, she was there to see him. So when she would send her calling card to Grace, she would ask her if her brother was there. And if he was, she would ask if she would meet her at her house, or outside. Just anywhere where Joseph was not.

"Do you not agree, lady Mary?"

Joseph's low voice brought her back to reality. She had once again visited Grace when he was not home, but unfortunately, she had lost track of time and the man had arrived home. He had wanted to speak with her, although Grace had tried to tell her brother there was no time for him.

"Agree with what?" she asked, realizing she had not been listening, for her mind had been too busy thinking ill of the man.

"That our queen is truly magnificent," Joseph explained.

"I have not met her yet," Mary told him as kind as she could, although she did not want to be, "so I cannot judge her character. But she does carry the same name as my sister-in-law, which certainly makes my appreciation for her grow."

"Yes, of course," Joseph said, quite uncertain of what he ought to say. "But she is quite beautiful, is she not?"

"I cannot say, for I have only seen paintings of her. And paintings truly do not show ones beauty, do they?"

"Er, no," Joseph stuttered, "Indeed. I, er... I believe you are correct. Although you would look quite gorgeous on a painting."

Mary shared an eyeroll with Grace.

"That is not what you ought to say, Joseph," Grace complained.

"But it is true," Joseph said. "I would hang the painting where I could see it every day."

That would be quite frightening, Mary thought, but she did not voice it. She merely gave Joseph a smile, pretending to be happy with the compliment.

"Well, I believe it is time for me to go home," Mary said, standing up from her coach.

"Yes, indeed. It is getting quite dark outside," Grace agreed.

"Shall I call for your carriage?" Joseph asked. Mary wanted to nod, for then the man would be gone for a while. But then she realized she had send the carriage home because she planned on staying with Grace until late.

Darn it, she thought. But she gave Joseph a kind smile. "No need. I shall walk home. The fresh air will do me good."

"You cannot go alone onto the streets, Mary," Grace argued.

Joseph suddenly had a big smile on his face. "Allow me to walk you home."

Mary's eyes went wide. "No need, I shall er... I can manage on my own." She gave them both a curtsy, then turned and left the house.

Twas dark outside indeed. But twas nearly summer, so there was still some light from the sky. Twas also quite warm, which made Mary not regret she forgot a coat.

The streets were empty, only a few gentlemen were outside, probably on their way to pubs or back home from their work.

Mary did not feel frightened to be alone on the streets. As long as she avoided the dangerous streets, she did not think she would be in any danger. The gentlemen on the streets she was supposed to take looked very kind. They would not attack her, for just like her, they had money enough to survive.

One might worry about the men who did not belong in this neighbourhood, but came here to unfairly earn some money. Well, Mary did not worry about those either. If someone did not fit in, she would notice quite quickly and avoid the man.

So no, Mary did not feel frightened to walk alone on the streets of London. She did not even bother that it was dark. She preferred being alone sometimes, for that gave her time to be alone with her thoughts.

And then she realized again how boring her life was. This – walking alone on the dark streets of London – was the most exciting thing to happen to her in months. And the next thing she knew was exciting, was the Birmingham ball. Although the most exciting thing about that was finding new ways to avoid Joseph – or find a way to not be bored when the Kiplings would not attend.

She suddenly startled when she almost bumped into a man who suddenly appeared in front of her. "My apologise," she murmured. Looking around, she saw he had exited the house she was walking past.

He was quite handsome, she must admit as she looked at him. His hair was quite light – blonde, she assumed, but twas too dark to truly tell. He had shark cheekbones and full lips. Truly handsome.

"This is not quite the time for a lady to be out," the man said. "Tis late and dark. You ought to be indoors."

"That is where I am heading, sir," Mary told him as politely as possible.

"And where is your chaperone?"

She looked at him and turned her eyes into slits. "What does it matter to you where my chaperone is? You do not even know if I have one."

"You look like a lady," the man simply said. "And only people who gamble with their lives, have a lot to lose. The lower class knows she they should not be out at a time like this. Alone."

"I am strong enough to protect myself, sir. But I appreciate you kindness." She did not mean that last sentence, but she meant to end the conversation as fast as possible.

"Well," he said, putting his hat on his head, "do not expect an offer to walk you home, my lady, for it will not come."

Without another word, the man walked in the opposite direction from where Mary was going. Good, she thought, for now he can no longer bother me.

Why did a man always think a woman expected him to jump for her? Some women – like Mary – preferred their independence and did not want to be seen like every other woman. She was more than that. Mary was no average woman, yet people never seemed to realize that. Every woman was the same, and not even an exception was possible.

Well, look at Mary. She is an exception. It is possible!

And even if it were impossible, it did not mean that every woman was the same. Every woman was different, just like every man was. Elizabeth had brown hair, Madilyn had light-brown hair and Victoria had brown hair. But also – Elizabeth was strong, Madilyn was family oriented and Victoria was always happy.

Not matter how much you tried to see woman as "the same", they were not. These three women were best friends. They had so much in common, yet they had their own life story, their own history, their own mind and opinions, and their own personality. Women were different, every one of the was unique.

As was Mary. She was also not like "every woman". She was more independent than most women, but she was also more childish – or however people would call it. She felt she was more happy and optimistic and energetic than any other woman. She was not a "typical woman", for everyone was different. The one woman merely more obvious than the other.