The morning passed quickly. Olive was an apt pupil who was eager to please. I had already seen how readily she memorized anything she heard, and that applied to her schoolwork as well. I seldom had to tell her anything twice. She also had an inquisitive mind and asked thoughtful questions. I understood why Lord Henry was reluctant to send her to the typical school for girls of her class. Flora finally emerged from her room for lunch and very pointedly refused to make conversation with me. After several attempts, I gave up and focused on Olive.

I got a respite after lunch when the music and art teachers arrived. It was a fine September day, so I put on my hat and gloves and crossed the street to the park. I’d read about New York’s Central Park but hadn’t realized it was so vast. I had only to walk a short while before I was able to forget I was in the middle of a city, in spite of the occasional magical carriage passing by. It was easy to imagine that I was out on a country lane. I might be a grand lady with a great estate or the daughter of a prosperous farmer, someone who didn’t have to worry about securing or maintaining employment, who knew her place in the world instead of being a misfit in any place.

I was so caught up in my reverie that I was taken entirely by surprise when someone grabbed me bodily and lifted me off my feet. I couldn’t find the air to scream, and I couldn’t seem to move my arms and legs to fight back. Then a vehicle raced past, right through the spot on the lane where I’d been standing. It was a magical open-topped roadster, so it made little noise other than a soft hum and the crunch of wheels on gravel. The driver, who was dressed like a fashionable dandy, didn’t slow at all and appeared entirely unaware that he’d nearly run down a pedestrian. He wore his hat pulled low, and a pair of driving goggles obscured his face, but I got a glimpse of reddish hair before the roadster disappeared from view.

“Why, it’s Verity!” a female voice near me said. I blinked in confusion, unsure why anyone in the park should know who I was. Then I recognized Lizzie rushing to my side. “Verity, are you all right?” she asked, her brow creased with concern.

The man holding me asked, “Are you able to stand on your own, miss?”

I turned to look at him, and when my eyes met his, I forgot everything else: my recent near miss, Lizzie, the park. All I saw was his green eyes boring into my soul. From the way he looked at me, I guessed that he’d been struck the same way. We were frozen together in that moment.