Romance / Rainy Day Discoveries (Analysis)

Rain was pouring in sheets throughout the city. There was hardly a soul about, most everyone huddled together before their fireplaces with tea or chocolate. A man walked the streets carrying a black bag, huddled into his greatcoat for warmth and trying to stay beneath his umbrella. Finally reaching his destination, he ducked into the arch entrance and knocked. An old butler allowed him to enter and took his coat, hat and umbrella.
“You look a mess!” exclaimed the woman that had just come down the stairs.
“Yes, well, that is to be expected when walking the streets during a rain storm,” Harry Philips chuckled.
“You could have hired a hackney!” the woman exclaimed as she reached his side.
“You know very well, Beatrix, that I hardly wish to waste my money hiring a ride,” Harry shook his head.
“You could have at least taken a coach!” Beatrix glared at him. “I hardly need my brother catching cold while he’s tending to my husband!”
Harry laughed, hugging Beatrix to him. She was always one to worry about everyone. It was hardly a wonder she never worried about herself. Without Fallon and Tohrence, they would have very well ended up on the streets when their parents died, and Beatrix and her twin might have suffered a fate he wished upon no women. He shuddered at the idea. His sister was very beautiful, and having elf blood in her, well that made her that much more interesting to bed. It was a good thing Fallon and her husband had her and Bonnie married off before they could get themselves into too much trouble. Harry had no clue as to how both sisters made such wonderful matches, and love matches at that, but he didn’t care to know either, as no doubt they had gotten themselves into some sort of trouble in the process.
“Show me to his room then,” Harry motioned before him with one hand. “I’d like to get this done and over with and return to my home.”
“You know you are always welcome here,” Beatrix stated, leading the way up the stairs.
He knew that very well, but he couldn’t very well say he had a mistress that he’d sent on her way to come do a last minute house call for his work. He left far later then he’d planned. He’d been bamboozled into staying for tea, and then into staying for a late luncheon, as David, her husband, couldn’t leave bed and she’d so love some company. So he’d stayed. It was still raining cats and dogs when he was finally on his way out. He’d grumbled and pulled his greatcoat tighter around him, tipped his hat down and opened his umbrella.
Harry walked down the steps quickly and headed off at a brisk pace for his own home. He’d send a servant out to ask his mistress to come and, if she didn’t, he’d be thoroughly annoyed with his sister. He was nearly home, just passing an alleyway when he felt a hand in his pocket! He whirled around to see a boy running off. He tossed his umbrella and chased after him. The lad was fast, but he was faster. He gained on him fast and once he was upon him he reached out and grabbed him by his coat collar. The lad struck out and as Harry wasn’t expecting it he got socked in the face. He staggered, but didn’t release the boy. He tried kicking, but Harry dodged it and pinned the boy to him with his back to Harry’s front. The boy continued to struggle, so Harry knocked him over the head. The boy went limp in his arms. He fainted! What boy faints from a light knock on the head? His head lulled to the side and his cap fell off, and long blonde hair fell about his arms. He realized that this wasn’t a boy at all, but a woman! He cursed and lifted her bridal style into his arms. He went the last block to his house and knocked on his door. His butler let him in, and went to fetch some towels. Harry strode into his library and set the woman in a high backed chair before the fire. He wondered what the thing had been trying to do. She definitely didn’t look like a street urchin. She was clean, her face unblemished. He frowned as he sunk into the opposite chair.

Winifred saw the man coming, as she had been heading toward him. She slipped into the alley and waited for his approach. She was dressed as a boy in a pair of boots, pants, a shirt, and a jacket too large for her. It had been too cold to dress in her normal attire and she was furious with herself as she’d left her weapons in her room at the Inn. She had her long hair stuffed beneath a cap, too eager to get out to properly pin it up. He looked well off, the man that was approaching.
He was a doctor, from the look of his bag, and an elf. From the size of his ears he had to be a halfling. She herself was a pureblooded elf with long ears that reached well passed the back of her head. Too bad those couldn’t be concealed beneath her cap too. The man was almost upon her. When he was just past she darted out from the alley and stuck her hand in his pocket, easily locating his wallet. She stuffed it into her own pocket as she took off.
But he was coming after her! Her eyes widened. What foppish man, lord or doctor, chased after a thief? This was not good. He caught up with her before she realized, and he seized her by the back of her coat. She cursed and struggled, able to land a punch on his nose. When she tried kicking he moved, and then she was pinned against him, unable to kick or punch. And she didn’t even come to his chin! He was so big. She cursed and struggled, and then she was bonked on the head, and she passed out.
When she woke up she was warm and dry, and heard the crackling of a fire. Her head pounded and she groaned., putting a hand to her head. A blanket slid down her body with the movement and she realized she was sitting in a high backed chair that was surprisingly comfortable.
She opened her eyes, and found she was in a very unfamiliar place. She looked around through half open eyes and saw a man standing before the window, a glass with dark liquid in one hand. He was perhaps the most handsome man she’d ever seen, and he looked very familiar too. So familiar, in fact, that it hurt because of who he reminded her of. His hair was black and scraggly, just barely covering his small pointed ears. His face was defined, definitely that of an aristocrat. He had fine dark brows and deep-set eyes that looked black. He wore only a shirt, open at the neck, and fine lawn trousers tucked into fine Hessian boots.
There was no doubt he was the man she’d tried to steal from. But it wasn’t like she needed the money, she just had a natural pirate side and it was things like that that she just couldn’t help sometimes. And he’d looked like an easy target. Clearly she’d been wrong. But why had he brought her to his home? She stared into the fire and jumped when she was addressed.
“Glad to see you’re awake,” the deep baritone voice made her shudder, but not in disgust as it was a lovely voice, very suited to it’s owner.
“Yes, well, you’re the one who bonked me on the head,” she stated coldly, tucking her feet beneath her in the chair.
“I thought you were a boy and you stole from me!” he exclaimed. “What else was I supposed to do?”
“You could have just gone on your way like every other fop would have,” she stated.
“I’m not a fop, I’m a doctor,” he narrowed his eyes at her. “And you definitely don’t sound as though you’re from the lower class. You very much sound like a fop yourself.”
“I’m a pirate,” she snapped.
“You have the features of someone from the upper class and you hardly sound like a pirate,” Harry smiled. “Now why don’t you stop with the façade and come out with the truth?”
“But I am a pirate,” Winifred insisted. “Or something of one, anyway.”
“I still don’t believe you,” Harry shook his head.
“I don’t care whether or not you believe me as what I am and what I do is absolutely none of your business!” Winifred snapped.
“It became my business when you stole from me,” Harry glared. “Now what would a lovely young lady like yourself be doing stealing from gentleman like myself?”
“I don’t need the money,” Winifred glared at him.
“Oh?” one fine brow rose high.
“I’m a compulsive pickpocket,” color rose bright on her cheeks. “I can’t help it. But you’re the first person who’s chased after me. Or at least who didn’t try to get the constable.”
“Yes, well I have a compulsive issue myself,” he smiled mischievously. “I like to help people and I’m afraid I gave you a good hit on the head earlier. That being the case, it is my duty to see you healed.”
“Well, I feel fine,” Winifred huffed.
“But you aren’t really,” Harry steepled his fingers. “So you must stay here until I deem it otherwise.”
“I don’t need to,” Winifred glared.
“Well, if you’re going to be like that,” Harry smiled. “I’ll just go summon the authorities and they can see to you.”
“Fine!” Winifred snapped. The last thing she needed was to be put in prison. “I’ll stay. Happy now?”
“Quite,” he leaned back in his chair.
“Cheater,” she muttered as she curled back up in her chair. “You don’t fight fair.”
“Not when it comes to fine young women who steal from me,” he smiled. He poured more of what she could only assume was brandy in his tumbler. “Now, why don’t you tell me what fine family you come from?”
“It’s none of your business,” Winifred glared at him. “May I please have some of that?” She could use a drink about now.
“If you give me your name,” Harry rose to get another tumbler.
Winifred pursed her lips and glared at him. After a brief moment she finally replied, “Winifred Neroli.”
“Ah!” Harry grinned, handing her the glass. “I thought you looked familiar! I can only assume you are Liir Neroli’s young sister!”
“What did he do to warrant your attention,” Winifred took a long drink and melted in satisfaction. It was rum!
“I worked with him way back when I was in Chinacht,” Harry relaxed back into his chair. “Damned cocky man, but once you get passed all that he’s really quite pleasant.”
“When he’s not being overly protective,” Winifred grumbled, taking a large sip from her tumbler.
“If I’m not being too bold,” Harry eyed her. “I would be overly protective of you too. Had I been around my sisters more when we were growing up I doubt they would have had a moment’s piece,” he chuckled.
“If you knew who I hang around,” Winifred replied, thinking of Reynard. “Then you would know that your words are very far from bold.” After a moment she narrowed her eyes. “What might your name be, doctor?”
“Harry Philips,” he replied with a smile. “Now, wouldn’t you agree that being pleasant is much nicer then how you were before?”
“Considering I don’t intend to really get to know you, I prefer the way we were before,” she replied primly, swirling the dark liquid in her tumbler around. “I have every intention of spending as little time with you as possible while I am here.”
“Not all intentions are the best,” Harry sipped his drink. “I intend to spend as much time with you as possible.”
Winifred merely glared and tossed back the rest of the liquid in her tumbler and, considering there was quite a bit left, shuddered as it went down. She set the glass on the table between the two chairs and stood.
“If you intend to keep me here, then I demand you show me to a room,” she placed her hands on her hips, one hip out. “I’m assuming you will not let me go at least until morning.”
“How right you are,” Harry smiled, and rang for his butler. Once he appeared he thought for a moment before saying, “show our guest to the rose room.”
The butler bowed before turning and walking out the door, Winifred hot on his heals.
“Dinner’s at 7!” he shouted. “I expect to see you there and dressed nicely! I’ll have a spare dress delivered to your room!” After a moment he added, “And don’t try to escape, the windows are all locked and my servants are trained in seven forms of martial arts and will not be deterred by a pretty smile or a shiny coin!”
He leaned back in his chair and refilled his tumbler. Winifred certainly was an interesting young woman. She was surely the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and he could hardly wait to see her in a dress. She was definitely more beautiful then any of the other pureblooded elves he’d met, and he had no doubt she was pureblooded. He took a long drink from his glass. He was very eager to learn more of her, and had every intention of keeping her around for as long as possible.