A Match Made in Highgate
Aviva Orr
Chapter One
Swain’s Lane, Highgate
Late October 1857
“Is this reallynecessary?” Sophie shivered under her worn cloak as she hurried after her two aunts. “You’ll end up frightening people to death.”
Aunt Mildred chuckled. “That’s half the fun, my dear.”
“More importantly,” Aunt Agnes chimed in, “it’s time you got a new winter cloak. Yours is becoming threadbare, and I won’t stand for you shivering all day.”
A blustery wind tore through Sophie’s bones, confirming her aunt’s proclamation. Still, she pulled the faded red fabric tighter around her shoulders and said, “Papa gave me this cloak. I don’t wish to replace it.”
“Your papa would not want you to freeze to death,” Aunt Agnes said. “I tell you, the cold is one thing I don’t miss. Now, a good glass of port, that’s another matter entirely.”
“I think a new pair of boots will serve you well, too.” Aunt Mildred glanced at Sophie’s shoes.
“My boots are fine.” Sophie stepped into a puddle littered with orange and red autumn leaves and felt the water seep in through a tiny hole on the side of her shoe, wetting her stockings.
“Bosh! Your boots are wearing thin,” Aunt Mildred said as they crossed into Highgate Cemetery. “Besides, taking off shoes is my favorite!” She raised her hands in the air, widened her eyes, and opened her mouth in a petrified scream, mimicking her victims.
“Oh, Aunt, you are cruel sometimes,” Sophie scolded, but with great affection.
“Anything for you, my dear,” Aunt Mildred practically sang her words in her excitement. “Now, keep your eyes peeled.”
The vast grounds of Highgate were covered in wet, fallen leaves, which muffled Sophie’s footsteps. She had lived across from the cemetery most of her life, and she loved it, especially in autumn when the giant oaks and cedars blazed red, orange, and gold. She loved the meandering pathways, surrounded by graves sheltering under trees, the magnificent mausoleums, and the myriads of gothic stone angels that peeked through the fog. She loved the dark tunnel of tombs within the Egyptian Avenue and the sunken vaults in the Circle of Lebanon, all of which had provided her with hours of exploration. She loved it all, but with caution, because she knew that real danger lurked within. Despite being fashionable and beautiful, Highgate Cemetery was also notorious for its hauntings—a fact that served her aunts well.
“There’s our first victim,” Aunt Mildred said, scooting Sophie behind a tree. “See her? Over there.”
Sophie peeked out from her hiding place and saw a young lady bending over a grave. She wore a luxurious, navy cloak and a matching blue bonnet atop her head of blond curls. Another well-dressed lady stood beside her, possibly her mama or aunt.
“Oh, yes,” Aunt Agnes said approvingly, “she’s about Sophie’s size, I’d say. And look at that gorgeous cloak. It’s velvet. That’ll warm our Sophie’s bones.”
She’s just like me. A young woman mourning the loss of someone close to her, no doubt, and now my aunts are going to—
Aunt Mildred darted forward, and in the blink of an eye, undid the bow at the lady’s throat that held her cloak in place, pulled the garment from her shoulders, and passed it to her accomplice, Agnes. Before the young lady had time to react, she was on her back, and Aunt Mildred was unlacing her pretty leather boots.
That’s when her companion screamed—an ear-shattering screech that reverberated throughout the cemetery. A flock of crows responded by rising out of the trees, cawing as they took flight, and a skulk of red foxes shrieked in the distance.
“Time to go.” Aunt Mildred appeared back at Sophie’s side as Agnes disappeared with the cloak and boots.
But as Sophie stepped out of hiding, a gentleman burst through the trees, presumably having heard the screams. He froze when he caught sight of Sophie, and they locked eyes, his dark, brooding good looks momentarily mesmerizing her.Is he real? Or is he from the other world—a ghost or a vampire, perhaps?
“Sophie!” Aunt Mildred urged.
“Help!” the young lady’s companion cried as she tried to rouse the victim with a shake.
The handsome stranger broke eye contact with Sophie and turned his attention to the damsel in distress just as Sophie’s aunt jerked her by the arm and whisked her away.
Chapter Two
The next morning,as Sophie was about to crack open her boiled egg with her spoon, Aunt Agnes floated into the room, carrying two newspapers.
“Take a look at this!” She dropped the newspapers in front of Sophie. “We’re famous!”
