So of course he would take the train down from Edinburgh.

Of course he would buy a new pair of evening gloves, both expensive and impractical.

Of course he would surprise her.

She was his oldest friend. A sister, really.

Except his friends didn’t seem to cherish letters from their own sisters, half of which were written in ciphers they created, or talk about them quite so much. Alec had never noticed how often he mentioned Lottie until another fellow on the dig made a crack about apron strings. Alec asked if he wanted to settle it outside. He didn’t, but Alec made sure never to mention Lottie again, either.

Lottie was his secret. His safe space. His home.

And he would never do anything to jeopardize that.

When Alec arrived at Sir Alfred’s grand town house in South Kensington, rather than have the hackney cab pull up alongside some of the finest carriages in the empire, Alec requested to be dropped off across the street. He had learned long ago how to navigate these upper echelons—smiling through the subtle jabs, laughing at his own expense first and loudest, showing that he knew he wasn’t one of them and didn’t particularly care. It was true most of the time. And much easier when he wasn’t surrounded by the wealth and status he would never possess.

He watched as fashionably late guests entered the stately home just in time for the dancing to begin before looking toward the darkened landscape of Hyde Park close by. He and Lottie had mostly been together at Haverford, the Lewis family seat in Surrey. But on the rare occasions when they both weren’t away at school and found themselves in London, they had spent drowsy afternoons wandering around the park with picnic baskets and one of Lottie’s hawk-eyed governesses.

A kind of wistfulness came over him as he stood there in the shadows, listening to the easy laughter floating across the road. The men’s freshly polished shoes glinted in the gaslight while they escorted women in glittering gowns that cost more than most people’s annual salaries. Alec’s own evening suit was in excellent condition, but it was also four years out of fashion, and someone was sure to remark upon it at some point this evening. As with everything else of quality he possessed, it had been given to him by Sir Alfred. Alec took a deep breath and unclenched his fist. “Remember why you’re here,” he muttered. Then, before he could lose his nerve entirely, he set off across the street, but instead of joining the increasingly long line of guests at the front entrance, he headed toward the back of the house.

The kitchen was a madhouse, with servants rushing back and forth as Mrs. Houston barked orders. She traveled between London and Surrey at Sir Alfred’s insistence, and was considered one of the most exacting housekeepers in the city. Many had attempted to lure her to their own households over the years, but Mrs. Houston turned them all down.