<div class="floatleft">(http://i46.photobucket.com/albums/f142/capwilly1/Westinghouse/Tori_avi.jpg)</div><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Lady Victoria Stuart</span></span> </strong><br/><strong>Current Location:</strong>In a Coach on the Road<br/><strong>With:</strong>Claude Moreau<br/><br/>Now believing his intentions to be honorable and perhaps even paternal, Lady Victoria smiled kindly at her new-found family member, “Oh no, thank you, Monsieur.  Releasing my hair seems to have helped a great deal. I suspect I will be fine in no time.”<br/><br/>She removed her gloves as she spoke and pulled her long hair over her shoulder.  After running her fingers through the loose curls, she began to braid it into a single long plait.<br/><br/>“Your English is very good.  I have no trouble understanding you.  But I may be able to help, a little. I used to be a governess, so I am accustomed to teaching.  My little girls already spoke English, of course, so I was to teach them French and a little Italian.” A frown of sadness marred her face. She would always remember those darling little girls with fondness and in many ways she would miss them yet she would never stop praying to God that she never saw them or. more significantly, their father again.   With a sigh, she shook the horrible memories away, “I will help you with my mother tongue, if you help me with yours.”<br/>