03: WATERLOO ONE

The morning was damp, with a thick fog across the great city and over the bridges that spanned the great Thames. The Thames gave the city both its birth and life. Countless great ships from around the world filled the docksides of the bustling centre of a great empire. Their masts looked like some strange, unnatural forest fading into the mists. Between these ships, barges moved goods inland and to the stations of the great locomotives. The clatter of horse hooves filled the lanes and cobblestoned streets. The creak of wagons and carriages clamoured with the voices of market vendors and hawkers of various goods. The smells of smoke, coal dust, dirt, decay, brackish water, sewage, horses and humanity overwhelmed the senses of mortal men, and more so those of his kind.

 But the river in the city's heart was the seed and the lifeblood of its existence. Even for him, wrapped in the furs that his wealth had gifted him, the morning’s chill cut through him. Thinking back on Eve, it must have chilled her heart and bone. He felt cold and damp, and when he first saw her, he felt pity. The style and the fashion of the day for women seemed more important to the service of the members of polite society than the proletarian necessities of either comfort or warmth.

She seemed alive and vital at first glance, more than the other young women of her time and age. She was so unlike anyone he had ever seen, which struck him at that time. Such a soft and delicate being on such a morning. This beauty was wrapped in a large, heavy fur coat, her face flushed, and her cheeks were red and round as summer apples.

She appeared to be a woman of means, yet seemed more approachable and less staid in some manner. 

Suddenly, a large, brutish man walked out from behind him, brushing him as he passed and then, with much more force, knocking the young woman to the pavement. With his great bulk compounded by the size and thickness of his coat, the heavy collar turned up, and his large fur hat, this man either did not notice or feel his collision with the woman or perhaps he did not care.

St Croix hoped for the man that it was the former and not the latter. He had noticed the man's unique scent, which, if need be, he could use later to address this unwarranted action on the bridge.

"May I help you, Miss? Jonathan St Croix is my name, and unlike some in this city, I am still a gentleman. Please allow me to help you."

Even with St Croix's help, Eve had difficulty regaining her footing because of her large fur.

"Damn, I have broken a heel and have to be at the barristers within the hour." Suddenly turning redder for a moment, she recovered her dignity and took and shook St Croix's hand.

"I beg your pardon, Sir, for such uncouth language. I do apologize. My name is Evelyn Harwood, and my father is a member of the House. I thank you for your good graces and manners."

Then, talking out loud to herself, "But how can I get to Sir Percy's office with a broken heel? Although it is only a short walk, I fear I will be late."

"Madame Harwood, if it is the office of the Barristers Baxter, Narrows and Tyrol, on Tavistock Street nearer to Drury Lane, that is not a short walk from even this side of Waterloo.”

“Yes, Sir, that is the same barrister I seek.”

“I know Sir Percy Tyrol. Allow me to hail a Hanson, and I shall accompany you there. And I shall have repair acted upon your heel while you are in his services."

St Croix signalled for a passing cab, and within moments, one appeared. He helped Harwood into the carriage and instructed the driver to make it with dispatch. 

“Miss Harwood, if I may ask, you said your father was a member of the House? Would he be Sir Chester Harwood?”

“Yes, how would you know that? He is from the Lake District, and dare I say, as a backbencher and not a vocal man, he has had a bit of an uninspired career.” 

“Oh, young lady, he is part of the world's most austere and earnest legislative body. Even as you say, if he is a man of mild countenance, his presence through his office still commands the greatest respect. You should not dismiss your father as such.”

“Well. that is just it, Mr St Croix. I do not see him as a loyal servant of the Crown but as my father. Elections may come and go, and victory and office may be fleeting, but he will always be my dear Father, and I his daughter.

And if I may have a question for you, Sir, how it is that you meet me on Waterloo Bridge at a moment of a personal crisis and have knowledge of what my journey to the city entails by knowing my barrister and that you know of my father's place in Parliament? Do I have a mysterious suitor and admirer, or must I fear you as something more sinister?

“I assure you, young ma’am, that as for the latter, I have no sinister plot or unruly motives, but as for the former, I do not think I could find another who would be more worthy of my humble efforts to seek and admire from afar.

In the stark sun on the beach, with that last statement, he felt Eve move and saw a small smile cross her pursed lips. Her head rocked slightly from side to side as if she was silently laughing.

“Sir Percy, may I introduce you to Mr Jonathan St Croix. Today, he has been a true knight in my service and has greatly assisted me in keeping our appointment.”

“Miss Harwood, I already have the pleasure of Mr St Croix’s acquaintance, if Sir, I may say of you, I represent his firm.”

Harwood turned, looking at St Croix. “A firm? What manner of enterprise are you engaged in?”

“I have a small currency exchange office near Exchequers’ Court.”

“Oh, my friend Jonathan, yours is hardly a small exchange; I would say a sizable portion of the gold for all the coins of the realm pass through your accounts.”

“Indeed, you are a gentleman and a man of means; it was to my great benefit to encounter you this morning on Waterloo Bridge.”

“Ma’am, would you be so kind as to give me your boot so I can take it to a cobbler to repair while you conduct your business with Sir Percy?”

“Of course, but you do promise to return with it? So, as I am not left in further distress this day.”