Duke Nathaniel Blackmere walked through the foggy street of Victorian era London peacefully. He just returned from a small dinner gathering that was political and tense at the same time. His radical friend, Lord Walter Davencourt had started whispering of a "more humane workhouses condition" and Nathaniel heard there were reactions from all the gentlemen's clubs in the city.
He took a deep breath.
A month previously, he and Walter visited the workhouse owned by an annoying merchant son they met at Oxford. His name was Alfred Wyndham. He was pompous, vulgar and too loud. Nathaniel and Walter lost a bet, and the punishment was to follow Alfred anywhere for a day.
And thinking that it would elevate his rank in the eyes of two blue blooded acquaintances he really wished to impress, Alfred took them to one of his family's workhouses. The candle-making workhouse.
Nathaniel had been taught to be just, to use his privilege and authority to care for the less fortunate. It had been ingrained in him ever since he learnt to read.
Per Ministerium, Dignitas.
It was the motto of Blackmere dukedom. "Through Service, Dignity."
Yet, it took visiting Alfred Wyndham's workhouse for him to entirely understand everything he needed to fight against.
The workhouse employed hundreds of women and children. When they visited it was a cold, autumn day. And the place was freezing, with barely any ventilation. The workers were far too thin and pale. A lot of them were coughing, and Nathaniel saw many of them had burnt wounds on their fingers.
He was horrified to see that reality.
He discovered that to light the entire kingdom, poor people had to burn themselves.
Walter, ever the more aggressive one, immediately reported Alfred to the authorities. The ball had started rolling, and it seemed as if they were facing a huge shift in the horizon.
The dinner he had left was organized by a neutral earl, the representative of people who were trying to stop Walter and him before they brought this case to the parliament.
There were heated arguments, concerns that were clearly more supportive to workhouse owners than workers, and Nathaniel was glad when the meeting was over.
The earl's house was a fifteen minutes leisurely walk to his townhouse. It was the first time in days, and he was glad for the temporary reprieve.
He intended to walk home for some peace.
He asked for his carriage driver to not pick him up that night.
For a month, Nathaniel had been planning with Walter to do what was right, not what was easy. He was on the brink of taking this matter to the queen, since his grandmother was close to her majesty, and she considered him as dear as her own grandson, if not dearer.
But doing so might make the matter explode to the level of national urgency.
Or he could do behind the scene negotiations to the key people in the parliament, to make a new law, to do inspections properly, and solve everything with the elegance his class admired so much.
As he was deep in thought, he suddenly heard footsteps. No. Someone was running. Fast. To his direction.
He was in a quiet neighborhood, where only the richest people in London owned houses. It was 10 PM, and very dark except for some gaslit lamps that didn't illuminate much. For the past 10 minutes, only two carriages passed him.
It was deemed one of the safest areas in the city, where Scotland Yard officers patrolled regularly, but someone was running.
That person was getting closer and closer by the second. Getting ready to be attacked by a thief, Nathaniel held his umbrella tighter.
He's well-trained in self-defense. He'd be safe, whoever that was.
But it was not a man.
It was a woman.
Running desperately, as fast as she could, turning to her back again and again, as if she was trying to escape from the devil.
She was wearing a dark brown dress, and he crashed onto Nathaniel.
"Madam—"
"Don't let him take me!!!" The woman said in a breathless rush.
"What is—"
"In the name of God, don't let him take me!!!"
After crashing onto him, she moved back, tried to stand, then fell on her knees.
"What's happening???" He asked, as he offered both his hands to help the woman stand up.
She looked young. Several years younger than him. She must be in her early twenties. But her hair was in disarray, her eyes were horrified, and her cheeks were wet with tears.
"ELIZA!!!" A man shouted. Another sound of someone running.
"Ha! Found you now!" That man appeared from the fog.
"Please! Don't let him take me! I'll do anything!"
A middle aged man arrived in front of them.
He looked wealthy from the way he dressed, but Nathaniel had never met him.
"That chit works for me, Sir. Let me take her home."
"Please," that woman begged one last time.
Nathaniel looked at her once, took in her distraught look, then made a decision.
"She's with me."
The man looked stunned for a second, then became furious.
"No, she's not!!! She's a governess at my house!!! Give her back!!!"
The young woman moved back and stood behind Nathaniel.
"I'm Nathaniel Blackmere, and I'm taking this lady under my protection."
The whole kingdom knew Duke Blackmere, and usually no one would dare to argue with him. Just the name usually made people turn quiet with respect.
But not with that man.
"She's no lady!!! She's just a cheap, arrogant slut!"
"Is there a problem, Your Grace?"
A police officer had appeared, discovering this rare scene, and recognizing Nathaniel immediately.
He stared at the young duke, the young woman and the middle aged man in turn.
"I am just escorting this lady back to my house, Officer. She works for my grandmother."
"I see. Would you require any assistance?"
"No, thank you, Officer."
"I shall walk you home, Your Grace."
"My carriage is nearby."
"Then I'll walk you to your carriage, if you'd allow me."
"Of course."
The middle aged man was left there, fuming, but could not do anything since it was obvious that Nathaniel was indeed Duke Blackmere.
The three of them walked together, the duke, the young woman, and the police officer.
It started raining lightly midway, and Nathaniel gave his coat to the young woman.
The police officer didn't say much, just asking about Nathaniel and his grandmother's health, and mentioned that his family received the late Duchess Blackmere's rations in the past, when his family was in hard times.
They saw the carriage as they appeared at the main road.
If his driver was surprised to suddenly see his lord appearing with a woman who wore the duke's coat, he betrayed nothing.
"I wish you a better time, Your Grace," the police said.
"Thank you."
Nathaniel didn't take the wish seriously, but he would not know how prophetic that was.