Lord Patrick Day had thought going after a criminal mastermind in charge of a massive underground slave smuggling ring would be the most dangerous thing he would do tonight. He thought, now that they'd achieved their goal, he could relax.

He had been so very, very wrong.

"So," the dowager duchess enquired, sipping her tea in the most dangerous manner Lord Patrick had ever seen. It was quite amazing what a murderous aura she could project while peacefully sitting on her sofa. "I get the feeling that the two of you have been busy."

He cleared his throat. "Well, you see—"

"Ah, but that's just it." The dowager duchess smiled sweetly. "I didn't see. Or hear. Or in any other way catch wind of what apparently was going on behind my back."

Lord Patrick swallowed.

Why the Dickens do I feel so nervous? I spent my time rescuing children from slavers and predators! Not exactly something to feel guilty about.

Still...

He glanced sideways at Amy.

That wasn't all he'd done, was it? Rescuing children was one thing. That was commendable. That wasn't scandalous in the least. Some of his other recent decisions and actions, however...

He glanced at Amy again. Amy, the prostitute, whom he happened to be engaged to. A profession which he didn't tell his mother about before she happily announced said engagement. Or after, for that matter.

Yes, well. Enough said.

Though to judge by the look on his mother's face, it definitely wasn't enough. In fact, he was going to have to say some pretty convincing things to get out of this little predicament in one piece, and fast.

He was going to have to tell her.

But...

For a third time, Lord Patrick glanced at Amy. She did a good job of keeping a stiff upper lip, but he could see it—the vulnerability in her eyes. During the brief time the two had known each other, Amy and his mother had become as thick as thieves. Which, considering Amy's former social circles, probably shouldn't be too surprising. Sometimes, he caught her looking at his mother with a longing, wistful look that wasn't really difficult to understand. She clearly craved affection. No, more than that, craved approval. And, judging by the look on her face right now, it was very clear Amy thought any and all approval would evaporate instantly if Lady Henrietta learned the truth of who, or rather what, she truly was. Amy glanced at him. The look in her eyes...

Did she think he was ashamed of her?

He felt rage flood him at the mere idea. Not at her. Never at her! Rage at himself, that he hadn't told her, hadn't shown her, how he really felt. Rage at the world that would judge her for something she had never had a choice in. No, he would never be ashamed of her.

But she clearly was. And it was evident she would rather die than lose his mother's love and respect.

Well, then, it's decided.

He straightened. He wasn't going to reveal her secrets. Her life was hers, and not open for criticism from anyone. Not even his own family.

"I think we should tell 'er."

"Don't worry." Reaching out, he squeezed Amy's shoulder. "I won't—wait, what?" His head jerked around to stare at her. "What did you say?"

Taking a deep breath, she met his eyes. "We should tell 'er. Everythin'."

He searched her face and found only determination there. "Are you certain?"

One corner of her mouth quirked up in a tremulous smile. "Nah, not at all. But let's do it anyway."

"You two do realize that I am still here, don't you?" his mother enquired, sweetly.

"No, Mother. I completely forgot. But since you mention it..." Taking a deep breath, Patrick exchanged a last glance with Amy. She nodded. "Very well. We should start from the beginning, I suppose." A nostalgic smile spread over his face. "One day, I was coming home and had just entered my house when when someone bashed me over the head from behind—"

"What?"

"Ehem...on second thought, maybe I shouldn't start from the beginning after all. Let's start from the middle. We were just breaking into this secret gang base—"

"Excuse me. Breaking into what?"

It took quite a long while for Lord Patrick to explain what he and Amy had been up to during the last few weeks. He tried his best to scrutinize his mother's face the entire time, tried to divine what exactly she was thinking—but her face was unreadable. Finally, he came to the point where they infiltrated the auction, brought down the gang and then, last but definitely not least, the leader.

There was a pause.

"So, let me summarize..." The dowager duchess leaned forward. "In order to save these kidnap victims, you, my son, accompanied by your perpetually drunk best friend, a young woman, and a man whose stubbornness is only matched by the size of his beard, infiltrated the most dangerous gang in the city of London?"

"Um...yes?"

Smack!

It came out of nowhere. Patrick rocked back, more out of surprise than anything else. He blinked, touching the tingling mark on his cheek. "You...you hit me."

"Yes," his mother agreed. "Never, ever, ever do something so dangerous again. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Good. Because if you didn't understand, I couldn't do this." And before he could move, she had stepped forward and engulfed him in a hug. It was quite amazing how, even if he'd been bigger and stronger than her for decades now, she still seemed to be able to squeeze the breath out of him with the power of motherly hugs. "I'm proud of you."

He stood there for a moment, stiff as a board—then slowly relaxed into her embrace.

"I'm proud of you," she repeated in a whisper. "So proud."

"Thank you."

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Amy staring at the two of them with a longing look. Lifting one of his arms, he extended it towards her—but she stepped back, shaking her head.

"Amy, dear?" The dowager duchess glanced towards her. "What's wrong?"

Amy shifted. "Dere...dere's somethin' we 'aven't told ye yet, Yer Ladyship."

***

Amy swallowed. This was it. The moment of truth had come. There was no way around it anymore.

It was impressive, really, how Patrick had managed to tell the entire story of their adventures without mentioning her origins or occupation. Heartwarming, even. But she couldn't postpone it any longer.

"Amy..." A familiar, comforting hand landed on her shoulder. "You don't have to—"

"Yes, Patrick. Yes, I do." Raising her chin, she met his gaze head-on. "For myself. For us."

He held her gaze for a moment, then nodded. "Very well." He stepped back.

Which left her alone, facing the dowager duchess. The woman who, in the time she had known her, Amy had come to think of as the closest thing to a mother she had ever known. The woman who was going to hate her the moment she learned the truth.

Amy took a deep breath.

"Dere's somethin' Patrick didn't mention, Yer Ladyship. Somethin' which ye deserve to know." One corner of her mouth twitched, though there wasn't really much humor in it. "Truth be told, ye probably deserved ta know before ye announced me as yer son's fiancée to da whole damn city of London, but better late dan never, right?"

"Amy?" Worry clear on her face, the dowager duchess stepped forward. "What is the matter, dear? What are you talking about?"

"Me." Amy swallowed. Now or never. "I'm talking about meself. Or rather...what I 'aven't told ye about meself. I'm not deserving of yer kindness. The things I've done—"

Quickly taking another step forward, the dowager duchess reached out to her. "Amy? What is it? You're worrying me?"

"I..." Amy swallowed again, the words stalling in her throat. "I'm a prostitute."

"Oh, that!" A relieved smile spreading across her face, the dowager duchess waved her hand dismissively. "I knew that already!"

"I should have told you this earlier, but—wait, what?"

Amy nearly fell over when the older woman's words registered. Had she heard correctly? Should she have cleaned her ears this morning?

With a kind smile, the dowager duchess patted Amy's shoulder. "Of course I knew, dear! You didn't think I was going to announce my son's engagement to some random girl I'd never heard of, did you?"

"Um..."

Well, put like that, it did sound rather ridiculous. This was the widow of a duke they were talking about, for heaven's sake! Someone who had probably dealt with more gold diggers than California during the last gold rush. Why wouldn't she be cautious?

"But ye never asked me who I was or where I came from!" Amy protested. "Ye never asked me a single thing!"

"Oh dear, of course not!" Patting her shoulder again, the dowager duchess gave her a sweet, innocent smile. "Why would I do that when I could simply sic a detective on you?"

Amy's mouth dropped open.

She looked over at Patrick. Lord Patrick whose mouth was also hanging wide open. Ah. So at least she wasn't the only one.

"And, um...it doesn't bother ye? Ye ain't worried about da fact dat, instead of marrying a lady, yer son is gonna marry a lady of da night?"

"Not really." The dowager duchess waved her worries away. "Since we can easily change you from the latter into the former."

"Oh, that's—wait! Ye're gonna do what?"

Now Amy was definitely sure her ears weren't working correctly anymore.

Her Ladyship the dowager duchess only smiled. It was amazing how, while still being completely sweet and innocent, that smile managed to send a shiver down Amy's back.

"Well, let me put it like this," Lady Henrietta explained, sliding an arm around her shoulder. It was probably meant to be comforting, right? It certainly wasn't so she couldn't escape the older woman's clutches. "You have just saved an entire city from a vicious gang of child slavers, thus doing a considerable service to the realm. And I just happen to be friends with the woman who hands out rewards for those kinds of things."

Amy frowned.

Rewards? A woman who hands out rewards for those kinds of things? Who would—

Then it clicked.

"Aaah! No!" Amy jumped into action, racing to get away from this crazy woman—or at least tried to. The arm clamped around her shoulder made that rather difficult.

"Now, now, Amy. There's no need for that. Most young girls dream about something like that, you know?"

"No, no, nonono! I ain't gonna do dis! I ain't gonna even think about, do ye 'ear? Don't ye dare say it!"

Her Ladyship the dowager duchess smiled once more. "How do you feel about meeting my dear friend Victoria?"

***

Far, far away in Buckingham Palace, the Queen was just sitting at dinner with her husband, when a quiet knock came from the door.

"Strange." Glancing up from her plate, she looked over at the door. "Who could that be? You're not expecting anyone, darling, are you?"

"No." Her husband shook his head.

"Oh well. Let's see. Enter!"

A butler entered the room with a letter on a silver platter. Bowing, he presented it to her. "A message from the Dowager Duchess of Exeter, Your Majesty."

"Oh? I wonder what Henrietta wants." Pulling open the envelope with rising interest, the Queen started perusing the letter—then gave an excited sound as a smile spread over her face. "Listen to this! Henrietta is throwing a garden party to introduce her son's fiancée to me and my friends!"

"Lord Patrick is getting married?" Her husband cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes, exactly! I can't really believe it either. Whoever the lucky one is, she must be a really special girl!"

"And let me guess, you're dying to meet her, pepper her with questions and introduce her to all your friends."

"Well, I must fulfill my social obligations of introducing this young lady to society, after all, mustn't I? And this girl seems like quite the...oh!"

The prince consort looked up. "What is it?"

"Listen to this! According to Henrietta," The Queen said excitedly, tapping the letter with her fork, "this young lady recently did a great service for the realm and should be considered for inclusion in this year's honours list. I do so love meeting young people passionate about charity work. Though I wonder what she's done to earn so much respect from my dear friend? Knowing Henrietta, it must be something amazing!" Gesturing to the butler, she clapped her hands. "Send a message to Lady Henrietta and let her know I accept the invitation. And tell her I'm bringing all my friends. Oh, I'm so looking forward to hearing the whole story behind this!"

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My dear Lords and Ladies,

Sorry for the slight delay. I slept late ;)

Yours Truly

Sir Rob