It didn't take much prodding or many questions to ascertain Jimmy's date of birth. Everyone seemed to know it, including the factory floor foreman, which led Rose to believe that Jimmy spread the word on purpose, likely with the goal of receiving gifts, well wishes, and free drinks.

A quick visual spree through Mr. Gallagher's personal calendar was enough to discover the birth date of Prudence Gallagher. December, of course. Fitting, for such a cold looking woman.

Halfway through the afternoon, Mr. Gallagher left the factory to attend a meeting. Rose capitalized on his absence by revisiting the safe behind the tiger painting. Much to her disappointment, neither Jimmy's nor his mother's dates of birth were the correct combination. She even tried inverting the month and day, but the safe refused to open.

Who besides his son and his wife are his loved ones? Rose wondered to herself. His father, perhaps? A rather stone-faced uncle who taught him everything he knows? How on earth am I to find out? Such questions cannot be asked.

Rose was still pondering the combination conundrum as she prepared to leave the factory that evening. With the intention of making a discreet exit, her eyes shifted from side to side in search of Jimmy. But when she emerged from the gaping maw of the factory entrance with the horde of other workers, it was not Jimmy Gallagher who awaited her on the opposite side of the narrow street, but Daphne.

Startled, Rose stopped in her tracks, nearly causing a collision with the tall, brawny man behind her.

“Keep it movin', lass!” the man barked, stepping around her.

“My apologies…” Rose murmured. She blinked at Daphne, half expecting the image of her cousin to vanish like a mirage in the desert. How did Daphne know she'd be here? Savvy journalist or not, it was baffling that she'd been able to track Rose to the factory.

Caution in her step, Rose crossed the street and approached her cousin with a wary expression. “Hello, Daphne.”

“Hello, Rose.”

Rose shifted from one foot to the other. “What are you doing here?”

Eyes puffy, as though she hadn't slept a full night in a week's time, Daphne offered Rose a watery smile and held up a bag from Pumpernickle's Café. “I come bearing sweets,” she said, her voice wavering. “Pitiful and lacking given the circumstances, I know, but Grandmamá Violet always said there were few conflicts that couldn't be resolved by tea—”

“—sweets, and polite conversation,” Rose finished, her expression impassive. “Yes, I remember.”

Daphne's face crumpled and she released a little sound reminiscent of both a sigh and a sob. “In all actuality, I came to beg your forgiveness,” she blurted. “Rose, I did a terrible thing. An egregious, irreparable thing. I betrayed your trust. I know croissants and biscuits can never atone for my behavior, but there really is more to the story than my loose-lipped disclosure of Elton Willoughby to Mr. Mercer. And if you would permit me just a few minutes to explain, well... I think, perhaps, you may not hate me quite so much. Please? Come to my flat?”

Rose felt a swelling in her throat that made it near impossible to respond. She already knew there was a great deal more to the situation. Her cousin would never have divulged such a deleterious secret without dire motivation. She was also painfully aware that there was a great deal of information she had kept from Daphne. Information that, if shared, may have prevented the blackmail situation with William from ever having come to pass. Daphne may owe her an apology, but she owed Daphne one, as well.

“If you'd prefer not to come to my flat,” Daphne amended quickly, “perhaps we could walk along the river behind the factories? I take a turn beside the bank on my lunch breaks sometimes. It's a nice place for a chat.”

“It's more of a canal than a river,” Rose contemplated aloud.

Daphne's lower lip trembled and she looked down at the ash-ridden ground. “Right. Of course. So, you'd rather not…”

“Daphne, stop,” Rose commanded gently. “Of course I'll come to your flat.” She reached out and squeezed her cousin's arm in a gesture of reassurance. “In truth, I have some explaining to do myself.”

【♖】

Halfway through their second pot of tea and the contents of the Pumpernickle's bag, Daphne finally concluded her tale of William Mercer related woe.

“My goodness!” Rose exclaimed. “So, he owns this building of flats?” She glanced around Daphne's modest, cozy parlor, imagining it through William's eyes. How he must have relished relaying that little morsel of information.

“And all the neighboring buildings, as well,” Daphne confirmed. “Told me I was on ‘his property’ and he could easily have me evicted.” She took a slow sip from her teacup and shuddered. “Eloquent or not, that man does not mince words. And his eyes when he's serious! My god!”

“Like ice, aren't they?” Rose said, nodding in agreement. “Ice that can scald your skin. Terrible feeling. I know it well.”

“I was trapped, Rose,” Daphne said. Her face was splotchy and tear-streaked from her emotional delivery. “I had no choice. In one fell swoop, he could have taken this flat, my job, and any semblance of safety I have here in Manchester. I'll admit it, I was frightened. And I...surrendered.”

Rose shook her head. “Who could blame you? William makes grown men wet themselves on a daily basis. He's made an art out of intimidation and manipulation. Let me be clear, Daphne: in your position, I would have done exactly the same thing.”

For the first time that evening, Daphne looked hopeful. “Would you?”

“I would, and I have,” Rose confessed. The memory of her unsettling audience with William at the Sparrow had not faded in her mind. Not by a fraction. His face as he'd slid that paper containing her parents' information across the table...such triumph in his eyes. She knew, without having seen it, that he'd worn the same look as he'd held Daphne over a figurative barrel. “William has backed me into a corner on more than one occasion. I understand why you had to comply.”

“So, you mean to say...you may forgive me?”

Resolute, Rose set her teacup down and took Daphne's hand. “Do you remember, before William's benefit, when you were presenting me with that spectacular scarlet gown, and I asked how I could ever repay you?”

Daphne nodded. “Of course I remember.”

“Do you recall what you said?”

“I told you there was no need.”

“Yes, ‘no need’,” Rose repeated. “However, should you ever require ‘an extravagant favor or supreme magnanimity’ I was welcome to remember that moment.”

Daphne swallowed. “So, you're saying..?”

“I'm saying, I forgive you,” Rose stated, squeezing Daphne's hand tighter. “Of course I forgive you. I love you, Daph. You're my dearest friend. And therefore, you've already earned my forgiveness a thousand times over.”

A sob broke from Daphne's lips, and suddenly Rose was caught in the tightest, most unyielding embrace of her life. She encircled her arms around her cousin's slender midsection and hugged her in return, unable to believe the amount of relief she suddenly felt. Daphne was her lifeline, and without her, Rose had been out to treacherous sea in a tiny boat of questionable stability.

“Thank you, Rose,” Daphne mumbled in her ear, her voice shaky with emotion. “I've been absolutely miserable without you.”

Rose gave Daphne a final squeeze, then wiggled out of her cousin's arms so that she could look her in the eye. “With my forgiveness comes a confession and apology of my own,” she said. “There is much I need to tell you.”

Daphne blinked at her, a look of surprise on her flushed face. “Oh? Well, I'm all ears.”

“The shameful truth is, I have been withholding secrets from you since the day I met William Mercer,” Rose revealed. “I thought keeping you in the dark would keep you safe, but I was so very, terribly mistaken. I made all the wrong choices, and put you in harm's way. In plainest truth, I should have told you everything long before now.”

Over the next half an hour, Rose regaled every detail she'd been keeping from Daphne since her inaugural visit to Warwick Hall. Dmitri's death, the cause of that death, the information William had gathered on Rose and Daphne from an undisclosed mystery source, the reason Rose agreed to work for William, her hasty relocation to his house, the way in which she'd fallen head over heels for little Teddy, how she had come to work for James Gallagher, and why she was now — by appearances — courting his horrid son.

Daphne's eyes grew wider with each passing admission. “My god…” she murmured upon Rose's conclusion. “It all makes sense now.”

“I'm glad you think so,” Rose said. She scoffed in impatience at herself. “I'm still trying to work out if there was something else I could've done. Something different. Any other course of action to avoid this disaster.”

“There wasn't, Rose,” Daphne said with a gentle shake of her head. “For reasons we mere mortals may never understand, what needed to happen happened, and couldn't have happened any other way.”

“Do you think we're being tested?” Rose asked. She glanced straight up, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “For our peaceful rebellion against societal norms?”

Daphne laughed outright at that. “I believe it's possible. We knew from the beginning that we'd chosen to swim against the current. Aristocracy refusing to live as aristocracy could never be the path of least resistance.”

“Bugger,” Rose said. “Why must you make sound points when I'm attempting to be indignant?”

“I suppose it's simply what I, as your elder cousin, must do,” Daphne said, quirking her shoulder in a humorous shrug. “But as the point of our chat today is forgiveness, please forgive me for that, as well.”

“That reminds me,” Rose said, thinking back to the image of Daphne waiting for her. “How did you know where to look for me? What with our...disagreement, I'd never had the chance to tell you about my new ‘job’.”

“William told me where to find you,” Daphne answered.

“William did?!” Rose exclaimed. “When was this?”

“Last night,” came the incredulous reply. “If I'm honest, I still cannot quite believe it. But he came here, we had a drink, took part in the strangest heart-to-heart discussion of my entire life, and he told me where I could find you.”

Rose blinked and sputtered. “Why?”

“Because he could see my agony, Rose,” Daphne said. “He could see it, and he shared it. We were both sick over what we'd done to you.”

“Both of you?” Rose inquired. “Really?”

“Both of us,” her cousin repeated. “Yes, really.”

Rose was beside herself. She reached for the chain around her neck, only to remember that it wasn't there. Restless, she retrieved her teacup and took a drink. “William felt guilty enough to share my location with you so that you could apologize?”

“He did,” Daphne confirmed. She glanced down at her lap and took a deep breath. “And there is something else.”

“Something else?”

“Yes,” Daphne said. “Secrets, both telling them and keeping them, is what led to the rift between us. I never want a secret to come between us again, Rose. Never. These past few days nearly destroyed me. Therefore, I feel the need to tell you that, while he was here last night, William kissed me.”

Rose's hand went slack and her teacup clattered against the saucer. “William kissed you?”

“He did,” Daphne reiterated. “Yes.” She took a sip of her tea, as though the steaming liquid would provide her with the courage needed to continue. “And for a few seconds, I let him. I wish it wasn't true, but it is. Once my sense and judgment returned to me, I told him to stop, but I must confess to the delayed reaction. Inspired by wine and loneliness, but not a thing I could keep from you. I'm sure you can appreciate why.”

A strange, conflicting hodgepodge of emotions cascaded through Rose's mind and body. Shock, incredulity, awe, and confusion took the lead, but there were others. Many others. She was both angry with and comprehensive of William. Both jealous of and impressed by Daphne. But what could she say? How should she feel? She and William were nothing to each other. Nothing more than employer and employee. Their relationship didn't begin to touch upon the romantic, never mind commitment or fidelity. And after his abhorrent treatment of her as of late, Rose was uncertain she would ever desire such a wanton correlation with one William Mercer. It was far easier to hate that man than to care for him.

So, why was she feeling so many...feelings right now?

Without making a conscious decision to speak, Rose heard herself inquire, “What did he say? When you told him to stop?”

“He agreed with me, Rose,” Daphne replied. Her brow was furrowed in concern, and she laid a hand on Rose's arm, her touch gentle. “He said he didn't want to hurt you more than he already had.”

“I see,” Rose said, again without conscious decision. Her voice sounded hollow and distant to her ears. She set her teacup aside on the end table to avoid dropping it. “And do you..? Do you fancy him?”

Daphne broke into a fit of sputters and coughs. She released Rose's arm and covered her mouth with the backs of her fingers until the fit subsided. “Oh, god, Rose! No!”

“No?” Rose asked. “You're certain?”

Daphne coughed again, but this time it transformed into a chuckle. “Yes, I'm certain,” she declared. “I do not fancy him, Rose. I swear it. He is handsome and charismatic as the summer day is long, I willingly admit that. But our kiss meant nothing. I was looking to alleviate my loneliness. Only that.”

Rose nodded slowly, her eyebrows pinched together. “And William? What was he looking for?”

“That's easy,” Daphne said. A knowing smile blossomed on her lips. “He was looking for you.”

Rose gawked at her cousin. “For me?”

Daphne chuckled against her fingers again, seeming amused. “Yes, Rose, for you. He all but said as much. I was merely a placeholder for the thing he truly desired.”

Eyes wide, Rose nodded in thought. William had kissed Daphne in her stead. Because it was Rose he really wanted. Could that be true? Did she want it to be true?

Her pensive expression vanished, and Rose pulled a face. “Why should I give two shillings what that horrible man does, anyway?” she demanded, emitting a noise of disgust. “He's free to lay his lips on whomever he pleases, so long as he does it far away from me. And, preferably, far away from Teddy. Poor boy doesn't need to see that.”

Daphne adopted a hint of a smile and shook her head. “You say those words, but you don't mean them.”

“What on earth are you on about?” Rose snapped. The amount of venom in her voice was lacking, and she knew that fact wouldn't go unnoticed by her very perceptive cousin. With an indignant jerk of her chin, she tried again, “Why should I burden myself with thoughts of William? Or spare him a kind word? He has done nothing to deserve it.”

“Because you care for him, Rose. I know you do.”

“I most certainly do not,” Rose argued. She attempted to look affronted, but both her words and expression lacked conviction.

Daphne wasn't fooled. “Rose. You do.”

Huffing a little sigh, Rose squeezed her eyes shut and slumped against the back of the sofa. “Oh, heaven help me, I do,” she confessed. “But why? Do I have an appetite for self-destruction? Why do I care, Daphne? He's a monster.”

“There's more to him than that. You and I both know it,” Daphne differed with a firm shake of her head. “Of course he's a monster. All of Manchester has seen it. But you've seen something else, as well: something deeper, something secret. There is an irrefutable kindness in you, Rose. A compassion. The likes of which most of us will never fathom, let alone demonstrate. If there is anyone who walks this earth who can heal William Mercer's rotten soul, it's you. If you're willing to take the risk. Don't you owe it to his sweet little son to find out? Don't you owe it to yourself? I know you care for him, Rose. And I know he cares for you. I saw it in his eyes when he left my flat last night. He was haunted. Not by the fact that he couldn't get what he wanted from me. But because of the realization that he wants you.”

Rose opened her eyes and peeked at her cousin, dubious. “You truly believe that?”

“With all my heart.”

“I see,” Rose murmured. “Well, I would never doubt your heart.”

Reinstating her poised posture, Rose leaned forward and retrieved her teacup. She and Daphne sat and sipped in contemplative silence for several beats.

“So,” Rose said at last, her tone suspiciously casual. “William kissed you.”

Daphne's head jerked in Rose's direction, a look of apprehension in her eyes. “Are you angry, Rose? Oh, do tell me if you are. Right now. I cannot have you leave here with us in another row. I would not survive it.”

“Angry? No,” Rose answered in earnest. “I'm...curious, I suppose.”

“Curious?”

“Yes.”

“About?”

The skin of Rose's cheeks began to sting with warmth. “The kiss…” she prompted, eyes averted. “...What was it like?”

Daphne let out a little laugh. “Well, I certainly understand the reasons behind his philandering reputation!” she declared.

“Daphne,” Rose scolded. “That's not an answer.”

The corners of Daphne's lips curled up in a coy smile. “Oh, Rose... That man can kiss.” She glanced at her cousin from over the rim of her teacup, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “I daresay, you're in for a treat.”

【♜】【♞】【♟】

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