open starter it was no wonder that winter’s icy fingers had quickly tined over like hoarfrost in december. but hope, when before had nary been given a chance, has woken and started to tame the settling chill. the new year boded renewed energy and came with a yearning that the coming month will mark the start of a new chapter that the people so craved after a long period of mourning. so with the last dregs of last night’s tea and chamomile left on the vanity, londoners made their way about the city as if their life depended on it.
Circumstances sometimes can be both fortunate and unfortunate at the same time oddly enough.
In this instance, as Byron St. Clair took in the sights of the hustle and bustle, he recognized how fortunate he was to find himself back in the city so unlike any other. A city that, no matter where he visited or would settle, would always be his first. He had grown up in the country as most children of polite society did. So it was no surprise that his first real taste of adventure had been spread across the landscape of London town—a fact that made sure his somewhat sentimental heart latched onto it.
What was unfortunate, however, was that he’d been rudely reminded of how busy it could be even in winter as a landau sped down the street a sliver too close to where he’d been meaning to cross. Byron stumbled back enough to avoid being trampled but fate was not as kind to his top hat that dove in doom’s way in its master’s stead. “Blast.” Byron cursed, uncaring who stood within earshot.