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Deep space adventure with deeper penetration.

ld this be?

Unconscious, she hit the sidewalk.

Part 2

"Miss, do you need a doctor?"

Her eyes fluttered open. A man knelt at her side. His eyes were the darkest brown to match his wavy hair, parted on the side and pushed back from his brow. He had a strong jaw covered in a trimmed beard and high cheekbones.

"Yes, yes, I am fine," Rose accepted his outstretched hand. "I felt a bit dizzy, tis all."

The man was a head and a half taller than Rose and wore an elegant frockcoat with a herringbone suit, burgundy satin vest, black leather gloves and a white silk cravat. He helped her to her feet, and as he did so, Rose noticed that he leaned on an ebony, silver-tipped cane.

"When was the last time you've eaten?"

Dazed, she dusted off her dress. "I...I don't rightly know."

"That settles it," the man donned his beaver pelt top hat. "We're getting you something to eat."

"No, thank you, no," she touched her hand to her forehead, feeling light headed. "I have an appointment."

"Surely, you can afford a few moments for sustenance."

"I am afraid I cannot."

"Then you should at least let me speed you on to your destination," he guided her to a distinguished black carriage pulled by a black stallion. As the man walked besides Rose, he limped and leaned on his cane. He noticed her observing his stiff leg and his eyes turned sad. "Pardon my lack of physical grace."

Mortified, she said in a weak voice, "Oh, there's nothing to pardon. I should not have stared."

She tried to apologize further, but the coachmen opened the carriage doors and helped her inside.

The gentleman asked, "Where are you going?"

"The Bordune house. I am to be one of their servants."

The gentleman turned to his coachman, "The Bordune house. Do you know of the place?"

The coachman smiled. "Aye, sir. That I do."

"The Bordune house it is, then," the gentleman said as he took a seat in the richly appointed carriage opposite Rose.

He studied her for a moment and then, seeming to remember something, rummaged in a leather-travelling bag and found a box wrapped in a fancy blue bow. He removed the lid and showed Rose the contents.

"A gift for my mother," he revealed a box of chocolates, each chocolate a satiny tobacco brown. Rose's mouth watered at the sight. "They should tide you over until you have a proper meal."

Every muscle in her body yearned to snatch the box from his hands, but with considerable restraint, Rose managed to say, "But your mother. I couldn't possibly."

He waved her concerns aside. "Mother will hardly miss it. Here, you take it."

He pressed the box into her hands. Rose smiled in gratitude and popped one of the chocolates into her mouth. Never before had she tasted something so rich and sweet. She ate another, and then five more.

"Delicious, no?"

She nodded excitedly and then let out a loud hiccup. Red-faced, she covered her mouth. The man gave a hearty laugh, and behind her hands, Rose found herself giggling, too.

When Rose was little, her Da used to put her to bed with fanciful tales of faraway lands, of princesses trapped in towers and valiant princes on white stallions. She drifted to sleep with images of ladies fair and dashing heroes. The man across from her called to mind the valiant princes she used to dream of. Even as they shared a laugh, a part of her was sad for she knew she was a poor serving girl and he was a man of breeding and wealth. Their paths were not likely to cross again. All she would ever have of him was this moment. If that was all it would be, then she had to have his name so that, in the years ahead when she wistfully recalled the memory of this brief encounter, she would have a name to put to the man that inspired it.

"I am Rose O'Toole," she said.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. O'Toole. Charles Bordune III."

Part 3

She gasped. "Did you say...Bordune?"

"I did.

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