Love is an Archer

6. Rain

Within just a few short moments, the note had floated and floundered across Hameldown in a swooping, twisting motion – all carried out on Fate's whim. It had so nearly come into the possession of precisely the wrong individual to receive such sentiments. Sylvia had once again proven herself to be capable, resourceful, and – unsurprisingly to Lydia – ruthless. As she guided the younger Cressley-Archer sibling back to her room, she knew Hannah would surely attempt to have her fired. That would be a difficult task, though there was also the possibility that the older maid would attempt something more vicious – spitting in her food, jumping her in the night, whatever other unspeakable assault Sylvia could imagine. Of course, all of these fears stemmed not from reality but from experience; Sylvia had defended herself on more than a single occasion, and running through the potential situations lying ahead allowed her to stay one step out of her enemies' reach.

All of these thoughts buzzed in her head as she walked Lydia silently back to her mistress' bedroom. Satisfied that Lydia was removed from any further clashes, Sylvia continued with her mission, finally coming to the door of Robin Barrows' bedchamber.

Miss Barrows answered on the second round of raps from Sylvia's knuckles, her eyes bleary and struggling to stay prised open.

"Sorry to disturb, Miss. I was asked to give you this."

Robin took the note from Sylvia and split the wax seal, unfolding the page so as to read the missive hidden inside. Sylvia didn't move from her post in the corridor, taking note of Miss Barrows' reaction as she scanned the words once, twice, thrice, and more. Each time, something would change on the guest's face: eyes might widen, eyebrows might rise, a lip might be chewed; a hundred tiny gestures played out on her face in minutes. Sylvia stifled a yawn as she waited.

"And you're sure this is for me?" Robin asked at last, throat dry, voice urgent. Sylvia nodded, the long night taking its toll. "And...And this isn't some cruel joke from my brother?"

"No, Miss. The note's sender is as written on the page."

"I see." Robin folded the note back up and brought one edge up to her mouth, to tap against her worried frown. Eventually, she spoke again. "Can I count on your discretion?"

"Of course, Miss," Sylvia answered with complete sincerity – should she ever release the secrets that she kept for others, London itself would surely be split apart, and the ghouls of so many haunting confessions would rip the Ton in twain. In short, Sylvia could be trusted to keep sensitive information in her care – and we must all be grateful for such a certainty.

"I believe you. Thank you...Sophie was it?"

"Sylvia," the maid corrected, as she had not done in her previous employment. The men there were allowed to call her whatever they liked.

"Thank you, Sylvia," Robin smiled. Sylvia noticed then what had caught the eye of so many potential suitors – Lady Amelia included. Robin Barrows was a natural beauty, her chestnut hair tumbling effortlessly over one shoulder without any sign that it had been against her pillow at all. Her skin was pale like moonlight in the darkened corridor, and she stood a few inches taller than Sylvia. In her former life, they would have paid a girl like Robin good money to entertain the gentlemen who preferred a feisty challenge. Sylvia banished the thought from her mind, hoping to keep the purity of a burgeoning love separate from the lustful world she had once been immersed in. She said no more, bowing her head and turning to leave Robin Barrows to prepare for her rendezvous with Lady Amelia Cressley-Archer – and to ponder some more the contents of the letter, as she was so sure Miss Barrows would do.

Before she left, however, Sylvia stopped and addressed Miss Barrows once more, in a low voice dripping with secrecy and candour.

"If I might, Miss...I had a letter like that once." Sylvia pointed to the paper in Robin's hands to make her point. "Best to act on it before the opportunity evaporates, if I may say so. I've found love to be like the rain. One might consider it to be of a great inconvenience, falling about you, leaving you hopeful for the sun to come back."