Hortencia was a woman of means, though her modest garments would not give that fact away. She wore the garb of a woman who worked as a domestic, the fabrics that were severe gray did little to hide her beauty though. It was a sturdy, serviceable shoe that touched the ground after moving from it's perch upon the step that led her from the train car. She moved with a quiet grace as she stepped toward her meager display of belongings. What she had come back to this god forsaken place for would hopefully change the course of a storm that had been brewing for nearly two decades.

She lifted her covered basket and her carpetbag, booted feet barely scuffing the ground as she made her way toward the place where she would wait for transit to the small cottage she had purchased on the outskirts of town. She easily tired but she would not let the world see her as frail. She did not have much time to wait before she set her plans in motion. She wanted to see the woman that was made from the child she had birthed so long ago. She wanted to break the silence of the secret that ate at her soul for longer than she could recall.

Her former lover would probably not care for the fact that she was about to darken the doorstep to his expansive manse with it's manicured lawns and pretentiously decorated rooms, and she would return the bundle of bank notes she'd taken so long to replace. It hadn't been worth the silence, hadn't been worth the many sleepless nights that plagued her in the wake of giving up her own child.

The young looking woman clutched at her cane as she moved toward the infamous bench where Pearl and Joe met, not knowing that her daughter's history had become part of the object in question. Once she was settled in, she set her belongings down... Her carpetbag rested in her lap and her basket was set next to her. From there, she would wait.

Mark wasn't working today. He had a few jobs to do that took him away from the harbour and would require a trip into town. Thankfully, no ships were due to Dock today, so the harbour would be quiet.

Mark was minding his own business. He was walking the streets he'd walked so many times without thinking. He puffed away on his pipe which was filled with the finest apple wood tobacco. He tuned out to the world and was busy in his own thoughts when a woman caught his eye.

Mark stood for a moment and gauged the woman. She looked familiar but Mark couldn't place her. So many people passed through the town it was hard to keep track of everyone. He watched for a little bit before walking over to her and speaking in a soft voice "are you OK there ma'am can I help you?"

"Ah, yes Sir, I am fine," she said with a warm smile. Miss Coggins peered at the man who'd addressed her and she tilted her head. Her finely arched brow lifted slightly as if in intrigue, and she went on to say, "I am just awaiting the cab to take me to my home so I can unpack. I need to make sure it is ready." She smiled toward the man then and let her gaze wander over him in a way that was not flirtatious.

Mark smiled "perhaps I could keep you company until your cab arrives?" He thought for a second before he replied "the name is Mark. Mark Harwell. I am the local harbour master in whitby" he smiled "do I detect a hint of Cornwall in your accent?, my apologies. I work with many crews and I usually pick up where they come from rather quickly by the dialogue"

It had been quite some time since she regarded the opposite sex as she did in that moment. He was not unpleasant to the eye, nor was he hard to speak to. Her dealings with men had been limited to Magnus and that only got her deep into trouble. "If you don't mind keeping someone like me company," she countered with a twinkle in her eye, deciding to at least be friendly. She needed to learn about the folk in town and their nuances before things would be revealed.

She shifted her carpetbag from the bench beside her, placing that at her feet. The cane nearly clattered to the ground but she seemed to be well practiced in the art of swiping that back up mid fall. It caused her to wheeze, however, as she was so easily winded as of late. She gave herself a moment to catch her breath, then seemed fine.

Mark sat down beside her "not at all. I'll gladly keep you company miss." The world seemed to pass them by and no one stopped to give them a second look. Mark wasn't one to be social. He tended to keep himself to himself but something struck a cord with him about this woman.

He noticed her getting out of breath and thought for a moment. "Would you like me to come with you? Make sure you get home OK?" He could see by her complexion that she was struggling. Mark didn't want to walk away and leave her to get hurt. His moral compass was telling him otherwise

"That would be lovely, thank you. And forgive me for forgetting to answer your question, but yes. I do hail from Cornwall." She looked ahead of her, a smile playing on her lips easily despite the fact that she was clearly not fit of health. "I thought I would come back to Whitby to tie up some loose ends." She seemed to pause because speaking was somewhat hard at times. She pressed a dainty hand to her sternum and went on to say, "I have unfinished business, I suppose. I would like to be able to rest easily, you know?" She lifted a hand to brush at the end of her braid.

"I don't mind the wait for a cab today, it is not too cool and the sun is shining. Then, I don't mind sitting inside and watching the rain if that's what God had decided to grace me with upon my arrival to a place that I've not seen in many years."

Mark nodded "alot of traffic passes through here from Cornwall. It's quicker than going by land." He nodded and listened. "There's no need to apologise miss & I fully understand where you are coming from." He thought for a moment "i was in the same boat myself a few years back, I came back and had to sort out my father's will and estate"

Mark knew she was struggling. He could see it in her face and her actions "the weather's nice for this time of year. Its making good sailing conditions" he thought for a moment "just take it steady. We Will move when your feeling ready and I'll help any way I can"

"What a nice man you are, sir. What might I call you? My name is Hortencia Coggins," it wasn't her birth name by any means. She used an alias these days. Her name was one that only the Carringtons could name if they even recognized her face after all these years. She was dying and there was no use hiding it when it was written in the way her body moved in a slow but almost painful grace. She would not try to pretend that she could be alive by the next morning. Her doctor had been clear that her time was closing in fast.

She had been ill from the same ailment that her own mother'd suffered and eventually succumed to at a much younger age than herself. She owed it to the girl who's name she'd been allowed to pick by Magnus just before he'd left her to die. She had also been reading the things written about the Carringtons throughout the years, she wasn't ignorant to the gross misdeeds their family had done throughout their tenre as richest family in Whitby. Pearl should have stayed with her but he'd done what they both thought, her more reluctantly, was for the best if the child were to have a chance at a happy and long life. She'd not known that she'd be fighting a long and draining illness, one that her daughter should be aware of possibly happening to her as well.

It was wrong that she did not know her own mother, too.

"I have purchased a house on the outskirts of town. It's a small and modest dwelling that I haven't seen yet. I am hoping for the best but expecting the worst. It wouldn't be horrible to have someone about who could possibly help me make it at least warm. I'll pay you if you need wages for your time. I do not have much to give." She was not going to tell him that there was money safe and sound with a solicitor who had directions already in place for when her time came.

Mark smiled "Mark Harwell is the name ma'am, but most people call me Sparkey, it's a nickname from my younger days that has carried through my adult life but I will respond to most things" he continued.

"I've grown up in this town. I know it quite well. I'm more than happy to show you around and help you anyway I can. And please I wont take your money. I'm lucky enough to be in a position I don't have to worry about my finances. The lads in the office can manage without me for some time. I only need to check in with them periodically & I Will happily keep you warm"