They were cheering, Nancy realized with horror. They were encouraging him. What was wrong with them?

"Jump, jump, jump," screamed a group of boys gathered around. The young man this was directed at stood at the fence, about to do just as they were saying.

"What is wrong with them?" Nancy cried to no one in particular.

"Gale is not actually going to do it," a boy standing behind her said. Nancy turned around. "He's just looking for attention."

"Gale? Jonathan Gale?" Nancy remembered the package she was supposed to be delivering.

"Yes. Who are you?" the boy asked curiously.

Nancy turned back to Gale. Whatever this boy had said, it seemed to her that he was actually going to jump. Her heart beat fast.

"Gale!" She pushed her way through the crowd, trying to raise her voice over all the other voices screaming for him to jump. "Gale!"

A few people turned around in surprise to look at her. She ignored them, making her way to the front of the crowd.

"Hey, Mr. Gale!" she cried when she reached the front. "I have your clothes!" This was the first thing that came to her mind. She heard a few people laugh behind her.

"Who is she, Gale?" someone sneered. "I didn't know you were involved with a laundry girl."

"All the more reason to go ahead and jump!" someone else screamed, and the cheering resumed.

"Jump, jump, jump."

Nancy moved closer to him. "Don't listen to them," she said in a loud voice. "You have so much to live for!"

He turned around to look down at her in surprise.

"Like what?"

"You're at Oxford!" Nancy couldn't help herself. "What complaints do you have from life?"

He watched her for a few moments before slowly turning back.

And then he jumped.

Nancy did the only thing that came to her mind. Springing forth, she seized his shoulders.

She sat in the large cool office room, staring out the window. She had been sitting in the same position for the past hour. A few times, she considered just getting up and leaving, but her curiosity got the better of her. She wanted to see how this would end.

Finally, she heard the door open and close behind her. Turning around, she saw a middle-aged man walking toward the desk where she sat. He took a seat across from her. He was tall and balding with a wispy beard. He wore a crisp black suit and round spectacles. Nancy vaguely thought that he looked like a cartoon character she had seen in a coloring book once, yet he gave off an air of authority. He pressed his fingertips together and peered at her over the rim of his spectacles.

"I am the assistant dean of Oxford, Stephen Colborne." His voice was low and tired.

"Pleasure to meet you, sir." Nancy wondered why she was given so much importance that the assistant dean was personally talking to her. She had done nothing wrong. Well, at least it is not the dean himself, she thought.

"That was a very brave thing you did back there, Miss Brooks." Nancy could tell his words were careful and calculated.

"I thought it was the right thing to do." She frowned. "Nothing brave about it." After she had lunged forward to grab him, she had screamed at the spectators (who had stood horrified) to help, her as she could not carry his weight on her own. A few people had come forward and helped her pull him up.

Mr. Colborne continued to watch her silently. "Well, Miss Brooks, this is a very prestigious university." His voice was meaningful.

Nancy looked at him in confusion, wondering what he was trying to say.

"We would not want people to find out that an Oxford student jumped off a balcony," the assistant dean continued.

Comprehension dawned on Nancy as she registered his words. She stayed silent, matching his gaze.

"I am going to be direct with you, Miss Brooks. What would you have of me in return for your silence?" This caught Nancy off guard again.

"Mr. Colborne," she began slowly, "this is a serious matter and should not go unnoticed."

"And it will not go unnoticed," he replied easily. "We have taken notice of the matter and will do what it will take to prevent further similar incidents."

"Incidents?" Nancy tried to keep her voice steady. "Is that what it's called now? It was a suicide attempt!"

The assistant dean watched her silently again. "I am not denying the severity of this situation. However, that is not the subject of discussion at the moment."

Nancy remained quiet.

"A quick background check on you tells me that you work at your mother's laundry shop, which does not generate enough profit as it is. There must be something you need that you cannot hope to get with your family's current financial standing." At these words, Nancy could not help but feel a twinge of surprise and annoyance at his directness.

"Tell me, Miss Brooks." His voice was slow and clear. "Is it money? A new job?"

Nancy watched him expressionlessly.

"Land? A suitor?" The assistant dean's voice seemed to come from far away as Nancy slowly processed his words.

There must be something you need that you cannot hope to get with your family's current financial standing...

A part of her mind wondered. Money? Yes, it was difficult, but they made enough for the two of them, and Nancy would never accept money from anyone. A new job? She wouldn't mind, but she would not take that favor from anyone either.

There must be something you need that you cannot hope to get with your family's current financial standing...

"Mr. Colborne," she began, "I think there is something you can give me that would keep me silent."

Her mother was strangely calm. She listened quietly, and when Nancy had finished explaining everything and waited for the reprimands and anger, none came.

"I will, of course, continue helping at the shop," Nancy added at the end of her story.

Her mother nodded slowly. "I am just warning you, Nancy." Her mother's voice was stern, but Nancy could hear the concern behind it. "Things might get bad for you, and soon. If you are willing to deal with that, go ahead with your decision to attend Oxford."

"But you don't have a problem with it, Mama, do you?" Nancy wanted to be absolutely sure.

Her mother paused for a moment before answering. "I remember your father used to say that he wished you were born a boy so you could put your potential to use." There was a nostalgic smile playing around her mother's lips. "I believe that this is what he would have wanted."

"I won't let him down." And Nancy was determined not to.

Later, when she went to the university campus to register as an official non-degree student (since the assistant dean had told her that she could only attend lectures and would not be eligible for a real degree), she could not help but notice all the stares and whispers. She would normally have thought that this was because it was not normal to see a girl on campus, but she could feel that it was something more than that this time. Well, of course, she thought to herself. The whole university had probably heard what had happened. Did the students know that she would be one of them soon, though? And what would their reaction be when she finally joined them? Nothing good, that she was sure of.

After leaving the admissions office, she decided to go to the library to have a quick look around. She would not be joining till the next semester, and she was curious about what the library was like.

It was beyond anything she could have imagined. She had always had a fascination for big libraries, but the local library she had spent her childhood in was nothing compared to this one. She had always heard of the big libraries of the world with rows and rows of all kinds of books—even original prints—but she had never seen one until now. She walked around the gigantic place. There were books with old dusty leather casings, books with fancy covers engraved with intricate markings, books of all sizes. There were books on all kinds subjects: astronomy, languages, science, history, fiction. She could already feel the warmth of the place and wondered if it would be the only place on campus where she would be not only accepted but welcomed too.

"Would you care to explain to me exactly why your grand plan failed right before he was about to give in?" Andrew Montgomery's voice was low and steady, yet something about it made everyone in the room afraid of speaking. He glared at the two boys standing in front of him, staring at their feet. "Wilson?"

"L-lord Montgomery, it was out of our hands." The taller of the two boys, Wilson, sounded as though it had taken all of his courage to speak these few words. "It would have worked if that clothes girl hadn't interfered."

"Do not blame your failure to obey my orders on other people," Andrew snarled.

"He has the right of it, my lord." The shorter boy sounded bolder and surer that the other one. "Gale even jumped, but—"

Andrew cut him off. "I don't have the time or patience to listen to your excuses, Wood."

"What would you have us do, my lord?" Wood looked at Andrew sincerely. "Name it and we would do it."

Andrew glared at him for a few minutes before speaking. "Get out of my sight." He turned his back on the two boys and waited for the sound of their shuffling footsteps to disappear before turning to the person who had been sitting silently at the back of the room, reading. William Cooper had not taken his eyes off his book the whole time this scene had played out in front of him in the private sitting room of Alnick's Inn, which was located close to the Oxford campus.

"Do you see how they answer me back?" Andrew demanded, forcing William to raise his eyes and look at his best friend.

"Andrew." William sighed, closing his book and setting it aside. "You are going to be the Duke of Grafton one day. When are you planning on leaving your child-like ways and becoming the man you are supposed to be?"

Andrew glared at his friend. "I will be the man I am supposed to be when people like them"—he jabbed a thumb in the air over his shoulder, indicating the boys who had just left the room—"start taking my orders seriously."

William sighed again. "They do take your orders seriously, Andrew. That is the reason a boy almost killed himself."

"Key word being almost." Andrew sat down across from William, brimming with anger.

"Would you rather he committed suicide?" William watched him steadily.

"No." Andrew glared at the other boy. "I would rather he came to me and begged me for my forgiveness. He brought all that rubbish upon himself by refusing to give in."

William remained silent, watching his friend with the same steady look.

"And did you hear that the meddling little girl who stopped Gale from jumping is joining Oxford?" Andrew continued. "First she ruins my plans involving Gale and now she is to become a permanent part of my life."

"Mate, you don't own this place," William pointed out. They both knew that was not entirely true. Andrew's father, the Duke of Grafton, was considered one of the most influential lords in the whole of England, and he could very well have owned any place he wanted to. Since the Duke of Grafton was always busy with his estate and other official matters, Andrew had a lot of power of his own and was generally left free to do as he pleased.

Suddenly, Andrew's face lit up as his lips curled into a smile. "Let's see how long this girl will last here."

William sighed, picking up his book again. "Do what you want, mate, but don't come to me when something terrible happens."

"Fine," Andrew retorted as he stood up andwalked to the door, banging it behind him as he left. They both knew full wellthat William was the first—and probably only—person Andrew would go to ifsomething terrible did happen.

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