It had been almost a year since her last visit to the beach... a place that always made her feel happy to be when she was home to do so. She gladly made the long, slow walk and climb to the beach where she stood watching the waves lapping at her bare toes. The wet sand was therapeutic after spending the day listening to her older sisters bemoan things... The eldest, of course, being so very haughty whilst the second bemoaned her fate as a jilted bride...

The sound of the sea that pulsed against the sand was like listening to the whispers of a would be lover, a hero in a penny dreadful, in fact. Peeeeaaarl.... Peeeeeearl... sang the made up man, caressing at her ears with the barest of touches. A sigh escaped her lips and she closed her eyes.

Anyone that happened upon her would see a well dressed young lady with her stockings and shoes sitting nearby, clad in a white and butter yellow skirt and a blouse, hat settled pertly upon the masses of dark brown that matched big brown eyes. She wasn't a classical beauty, but she was pretty. There was a blanket folded over one arm.

He did a bit of smuggling now and then. One had to work for one's drink, like an honest man. The problem was that Steve drank faster than he worked, and as he was rowing the small boat to the beach, his judgement was already compromised.

Be quiet. Dont draw attention to yourself. He could do that drink! Drunk! Dr..ank!? As his boat touched the shore and he staggered out, he spotted a pretty young lady. Well wasn't he lucky? He smiled stupidly. "Pssssssssst! Miiiiiiss!" It wasn't exactly a whisper.

She gave him the side eye, a little dismay written across her face when she took note of his sotted appearance, and she grabbed her shoes. She cleared her throat and gave a polite nod before walking further down the beach, cursing her ill luck the one time she snuck to the beach on her own. When at a distance, she gazed at him with wide eyes and hoped he would not follow, for she wanted to find a way out of the situation before it could potentially be bad. Then again, it could be completely fine too, which was why she didn't outright leave the sandy stretch... yet.

"No.... no... miiiiiiiiiiiss!" he said, louder now as she started moving away from him. He walked after her, though he was unsteady. He was still comparatively sober - comparatively, when one considered other moments in his life - and he tried to rush. "I've got a delivery for ye, miss!"

"I don't know you, sir," she said firmly and started to walk faster. Unfortunately there were only so many places she could go with the way the cliffside loomed over them. This was most certainly a pickle she was getting herself into, wasn't it?

Steve followed her. "I have the opium, ma'm. Right in me boat!" Now surely the pretty lass would realize that he was the person she had been waiting for.

In multiple ways, hopefully. He raked a hand through his greasy hair.

"Opium? I don't touch opium... You have the wrong person, sir. I am sure he or she is waiting for you now." She bumped into rock and then she stumbled back and found herself in one of the caves... She ducked inside and went into the darkness with the hopes he would lose her.

He got the wrong one!? And he had just confessed a crime! He clumsily ran after her. If he would let her go, she might go to a constable. And if they would arrest him for smuggling, they would soon find out his other crimes as well. He'd be a dead man. Sober, he might have realized that he could just flee. But what was the last time Steve had been fully sober? He jumped after her, seeing little in the darkness of the cave, rolling over as he landed, but he quickly scrambled to his feet. "Miss?" His voice echoed off the walls. He stopped and listened.

Pearl pressed herself into a nitch and placed her hand over her own mouth to keep herself from crying out as fear curled its icy fingers about her. He was so close to her, she could feel it, she could hear it in the footsteps. She crept along the wall as silently as she could, trembling as he was coming after her. She stepped on a loose rock and went down, hip hitting the ground painfully and forcing a cry from her.

His hand followed the wall to keep some sense of up and down. When he heard her cry, he grabbed whatever part of her was nearest and he pulled her towards him.
"Now ye listen to me, missie, I've got a knife I don't want to use, so you're gonna keep quiet and do as I tell ye, yeah?"
What exactly was that going to be? Steve was still improvising.