Despite her efforts to wring her wrists free of the iron grip that held them, a young woman was dragged by her captor up a flight of stairs. Had the situation been different, had she been merely an invited guest, leisurely taking a tour of the house, she would have marvelled at the rich red carpet she was now dragged over, so plush that even through her slippers she could feel the thick soft threads give way underfoot. The walls were a mixture of ivory paint and delicately stencilled gold leaf flowers lending elegance to the simply furnished receiving hall and the first floor anteroom.

She was led down a long hallway, past different rooms, some whose doors were closed and others whose doors were left open. Glances into the latter showed that there were people in a few of the rooms, both women and men. The young woman was surprised by their countenance, she began to wonder if she had misunderstood the reason she had been brought to this house, the reason she had been taken from her home, dragged into a waiting carriage and threatened into silence before being ferried to this place, to this grand house, with its well dressed guests, sitting in parlours enjoying each other's company over aperitifs of coffee and petit fours. Was she mistaken? she wondered.

At last they reached their destination, a room at the very end of the hall, away from the buzz of voices and laughter. Laughter, she wondered. Surely this could not be so bad a place if such cheerful laughter rang out through it so frequently. Some, if very little, of her unease began to lift. Her captor, a man who she could only distinguish from the back of his head, pushed her into the room and ordered her to be quiet before shutting the door leaving her standing in darkness.

The young woman thought of her cousin, a girl her junior by about 5 years, wild and carefree and more aware of the ways of the world than any 17 year old should be. It was that wild and carefree nature that had brought this trouble about.

Life with Hettie had always been hectic, an endless mad dash of scandal and drama that she as the girl's guardian was required to hush up and play down.

Theadora had moved to London on her own after nearly eight years of living with her aunt and uncle, Hettie's parents, in a village very close to the town of Huddersfield, they had been kind and generous guardians, happy to take her in after her mother, who had raised her single handedly, had passed on. Her aunt and uncle kind as they were, however, were hardly capable of supporting their own brood of five children let alone an unexpected addition, thus as soon as she was of age she had left for London. She found work as an apprentice at a seamstress shop and had taken to the trade like a duck to water. It had been only a year and a half until she had been promoted from apprentice to seamstress. At this news, Hettie had decided to come visit her cousin in Town, and Theadora happy to have company for a little while and now able to support her cousin while she visited welcomed her. The only problem was that Hettie had eventually made her visit a permanent move.

"Oh Hettie," the young woman sighed. "How far shall I have to go for your foolishness," she blinked rapidly, preventing any tears from falling.

From tears comes no resolution, her mother had always said but in such a case as this it was difficult to believe that any resolution could be arrived at despite any efforts she made to temper her feelings of hopelessness.

Her cousin she believed was by now, in Scotland, run away with her lover, a young officer. Hettie had borrowed 500 pounds from a money lender, a certain Mr. Barrow, to help secure a commission for her beau but when they had both decided to risk the money in an investment, at the encouragement of a con artist, they had lost it all. Unable to pay back the money lender Hettie and her officer had decided to run away, using what little money they had to buy coach passes to Gretna Green where they hoped to marry and begin a life together.

Three days earlier and a week since her cousin's departure a certain gentleman had called on her at her Bough Street lodgings.

"Miss Worthing, Miss Theadora Worthing?"

"Yes?"

At this the man had pushed his way into the small room she called her home.

Despite her requests for him to remove his person from her home and questions as to the reason for his invasion of her lodgings, he made no answer. He merely pulled out a stub of charcoal and a folded piece of parchment and began to note down the items in the room.

"Bed; walnut, beddings; simple cotton, curtains; lace..." he called out the items as he wrote them down.

"Mr. Barrow has given you a month and a half to repay him the 500 pounds he lent. More time than he usually gives to anyone, mind. He instructed me to come here and remind you of your debt as well as to collect a little of the sum, you owe. However, I'm afraid, Miss that all these come down to just a little over 10 pounds in value; I can't go back with only 10 pounds. He'd skin me alive, Mr Barrow would," The man spoke in a monotone, as though reciting from a book.

"I don't understand. I never borrowed money from your Mr. Barrow. My cousin, Hettie did. She and her fiancé took a loan of 500 pounds to secure a commission. It has nothing to do with me. So if you please, she pointed toward the door."

The man before her smiled, a knowing smile that immediately set Theadora's heart racing.

"Ah, this always makes it harder on me," he sighed. "Your cousin put you down as her guarantor for the loan; of course she's now run off," The man paused, his tone darkened, "Mr. Barrow doesn't accept losses."

Theadora balked, realisation dawning hard and fast, "But I don't have 500 pounds and I could never dream of having such a sum at my disposal."

"That doesn't concern me," The man said dismissively. "I need another 10 pounds at least to add on to the 10 I'll get from selling the furnishings here."

"You can't sell the furnishings, they aren't mine, they're owned by the landlord!"

"Oh no problem there, just give me the full 20 pounds Miss," his tone impassive.

Theadora wondered if the fact that he now stood right in front of the door was mere chance or a calculated move.

They stood in silence for all of 5 minutes. A palpable tension hung in the air. Theadora tried to steady her racing heart, but it was a feat easier said than done. She had the money. As a seamstress she earned 15 pounds per year, she had strived to live as frugally as possible and in the end had managed to make savings of slightly over 5 pounds each year add to that the remains of the money her aunt and uncle had given her when she had struck out for London she now had in a jar, underneath a plank below the bed, unknown to even Hettie, or rather especially to Hettie, a relative treasure, 44 pounds. Yes, she had enough to pay what was required that day but she could hardly hope to pay off the rest of the debt. Mr. Barrow would likely send one or other of his thugs to retrieve more of the owed sum, be it a week or a month from then. Another 20 pounds would be snatched from her. And then what should happen when a third visit from the debt collector should occur when she had but 4 pounds! She shuddered at the thought.

"Can your Mr. Barrow give me more time," she asked. "I should be able to come up with 20 pounds but I need a little more time. Surely even you realise that my surprise was genuine when you told me that my cousin had put me down as her guarantor."

The man paused, his brows knitted together as though deep in thought. An idea then seemed to occur to him and the corners of his lips twitched into a smile. She felt his eyes on her, focused and intent as he moved toward.

"I may be able to get you more time should you agree to a proposition," he said, his voice gentle and unassuming.

"What affectation is this?" Theadora wondered.

He grabbed at her and pulled her close.

"Should you lay with me, it would be in my power to pay the 20 pound sum you owe at present. You would then have another week to gather more funds."

Theadora pushed the man away. Her breathing coming out in shallow gasps, all sound seemed muffled by a faint ringing in her ears and she could hardly comprehend what the man now said. He approached her again and this time her hand shot out, and stuck him across the face. He stared at her, shocked for a moment before grabbing her again and shaking her forcefully.

"You will give me the 20 pounds this instant!" He barked the gentle tone he had used before a long forgotten memory.

Theadora cowered.

"I-I'll g-g-give you the m-money," she managed to say.

He let go of her.

She crawled under the bed, pulled up the loose plank at the very edge of the wall and pulled out the jar hidden in the narrow space, she took out the notes required and crawled back out. Hands trembling she held out the sheets to him. The man snatched the sheets and scrutinized them before turning on his heel and storming towards the door. Before slamming the door shut he warned her not to attempt to run away for they would have people watching her.

As soon as the door slammed shut, Theadora fell into a heap on the floor, her shaking legs unable to bear her weight any longer.