Tess huddled under the tarpaulin cover of the steamer. The rain rolled on the fabric, beating like a steady drum. She sat and the glass fogged. Her repeated clearing of the clouded windows was the only thing that kept her from becoming sleepy. The dull heavy thrumming of the relentless rain, running in rivulets down the pane, and the grey afternoon skies were hypnotic. She recollected the weeks leading up to Sir Redvers’ journey to Bradley.<br/><br/>Tess was raised by a lovely and delicate woman. Marie Argent, her mother, managed to provide a more than adequate existence for them. She was skillful with mechanics and made many of the devices and inventions that aided them in their day to day lives. She worked in mechanics manufacture and design, for a very small private organization. It supported them just enough. Marie raised a little extra for them by selling the cast off trinkets she made from the metal. She thought about the odd-sized pinion tucked into her bodice and remembered her mother’s gentle and easy smile.<br/><br/>Now, nearly two years later, she had finally caught up with the scoundrel. Her mother had been working on a slightly larger project for her benefactor. The projects were always piecemeal and she never really knew how they were finally used. Tess’ father left when she was an infant; she had never known him nor missed his lack of presence.<br/><br/>One day, while working on the project for the organization, her mother disappeared. The workspace she used in one of the abandoned factories had been ramshackled. Someone had searched the place. Tess found the pinion as she shifted through the debris. It had taken Tess months to trace the organization to Sir Redvers. Work order requests were always delivered by courier. The secrecy led her to investigate the benefactor and the trail was lost several times. One factor was a constant in all of her field investigations and that was Redvers Buller. She waited in the rain sodden vehicle for him to emerge from Isabella Baudelaire’s curious shop.