i've been the archer, i've been the prey

Beatrice didn't think that she would ever have it in her to out another woman in such a way. She wouldn't ruin Cassandras reputation just because her feelings had gotten hurt. "You didn't do anything wrong." She sighed. Really, the only person who was in the wrong here was Callum. Cassandra had only done the same thing as she had. Although Beatrice hadn't realised that there was another woman involved. "I understand." She nodded. Had Thayer known at the Sinclair Ball? And yet he had listened to her speak of her troubles with Callum? She hoped that he hadn't.

"I love him..." Beatrice sighed. "But if he does not want me and only me then -" She shook her head. It irked her that Callum clearly hadn't been open to Cassandra about how he was feeling either. Had he just been intending on playing the two of them until one of them gave in? "I don't think that, that is the case. I think your friendship is important to him." Why she felt the need to comfort Cassandra, she didn't know.

If Cassandra hadn't done anything wrong, then why did she feel so terrible inside, so guilty. Cassandra couldn't understand her own mind, confused by the way it felt for Callum when she had another in her own heart. Maybe Callum didn't feel the way about her as she thought, but the way he kissed her, the way he had touched her set something aflame in her, something she had only felt once before. Was it just passion or could their be more between the two?

"I'm so sorry I came in between that, if I had-" she stopped herself, "I knew and I couldn't fight my feelings for him. I kissed him when I should not have. I should have known better," she murmured. If anyone were to find out why she was really sent to Mayfair, all her chances at finding a husband would have been broken. Her family's hopes and dreams crushed. "Callum may have been swept up in the romance of it all, but the way Whistledown spoke about the two of you, the way he mentioned you. I know he has feelings for you." Maybe that was where their story ended: the passionate kiss they shared together, a moment of fervor that they had succumbed to. They would be perfect together which only made her wistful.

"It is quite the wonderful color, yes." Atticus agreed with the air of someone who had no idea truly what worked when it came to jewelry. All the same, he had promised the other that he would help them find it is what they wanted and needed. And Atticus Sinclair was, above most if not all things, a man of his word. So on that idea, he found himself among the small droves of others searching for objects and tokens of love. Ones for family and other for engagements and ones for...mourning? It was hard to know what everything he was for.

Cassandra could not help but admire the gems and jewels that sat neatly upon the counter. She was not a frivolous woman with desires of more than what she had, but they were all still very beautiful. Shaking her head, "I believe just the pearl earring, to replace the one I somehow managed to lose," she returned a small smile, "or the one I believe Winnie decided to eat." They were her mother's given to her right before leaving for London and she was destroyed due to losing the heirloom. Sir Thayer gave her the money to do purchase another, just in case the originals never turned up. However, he could not accompany her to the jewelry shop and her suggestion was Lord Atticus.

"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife"

- Jane Austen, 'Pride and Prejudice'

She let that sink in for a moment before continuing, her voice softening, but the weight of her words was unmistakable. “As for William, well... you’ve always known where that path leads, haven’t you?” Alice's lips curled into a subtle smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. “He’s charming, yes. He’s been with you through the quiet moments, but those aren't the ones that last, darling.” Alice lifted her chin slightly, meeting her friend’s gaze with a quiet intensity. "You deserve a love that stands firm—something that isn’t clouded by history or promises that can’t be kept. I just don’t think William will ever be that for you.” Alice’s gaze flickered away for a moment, allowing herself a soft sigh. She could feel the ache of her own unvoiced wishes in the pit of her stomach, but she forced it away, her focus trained solely on Cassandra’s decision. "You can’t let sentiment decide this. Love isn't always about what feels good in the moment; it’s about what will still be there when the moment passes. You want something that’ll last, something that’s dependable." She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper as if to offer her friend something more personal.

Stuttering, "I had hoped," she paused, realizing what she was about to say were thoughts of a fantasy, "that I could live out my days in Margate beside him. Maybe not in law, but in spirit." It sounded foolish coming out of her mouth. There was the matter of inheritangce that she was ignoring: her father's estate would go to her husband, she would never be allowed to take it. She had only hoped her father was distracted enough with her mother to never force this upon her. She was wrong. Nodding, "I suppose you are right in those matters," she murmured softly, "is there no future where you think that Will and I could be together..." she trailed off. Cassandra always imagined Will would be dependable, the one she could always lean on for comfort, but right now, they were forced to be apart and in this society, she was unsure if they could ever have that.

"Money is what fuels every choice, Cassandra. Behind title is fortune, and even if the coffers are empty, favor of the queen will always come back with gold," He sighs. This was a game he'd been privy to as a child, from watching his father gamble their safety and discretion to seeing men still try to prove their worth when they were all kneeling in the same trenches. "Whether she has any real intention for these matches to lead to the altar or she is simply punishing the lot of us to suffer and abide, it depends upon who you inquire with. Make a grand gesture, and let it fall apart if it is anything but you wish for. I believe we can agree that she intends to see us try."

It was his own plan for the courtship with Lady Sinclair, it had to be. Even if she was the perfect match in the eyes of the queen, there was not a chance even in the infernos that would be thrusted upon Thayer to have any of her brother's blessings to marry her if the chance ever came. He would, however, obey. There was too much at risk.

But was he willing to crawl down the aisle of a church if Queen Anne so demanded it?

He could only hope his obedience would spare him that. There were other intentions, but the risk would be their heads.

Crossing her arms over her chest, "the grand gesture is all in his hands, unless you want me to revert back to my ways," she bit back at Sir Thayer, hinting at the ways she had made this mess that had her fall into this position. After all, he wanted to keep as much of her honor as intact as he could. "Do you think anyone is pleased with these forced matches? I cannot be the only one who believes this and you! I never realized you had eyes for Lady Madeleine. The girl is younger than I am."

Cassandra had not imagined who her future husband may be out of the eligible men of the ton, but she surely didn't expect it to be Mr. Lysander Digby, especially not when her thoughts lingered to a Lord and a groomsman.

Her eyes widened at Cassandras plea. She hadn't wanted to scare her. "I'm not going to tell anyone." Beatrice spoke quickly. She hadn't even thought about telling anyone else. She could never do that to another woman. "Cassandra, I promise. I won't tell another soul." She hadn't even told Atticus who Callum had kissed. No matter how upset she was, she wasn't about to ruin another girls reputation because of it. That definitely did not feel fair. "Sir Thayer knows too?"

"We are not - We're not courting. Not anymore." Not since he had told her about the kiss. "I think you ought to talk to him, Cass. You deserve to know where you stand." The last thing that she wanted was to send another woman into his arms but if she and Callum were to ever find their way back to one another, then he had to figure things out with Cassandra too.

Cassandra let out a relieved sigh as she finally heard words of comfort, "thank you," swallowing, "I know I do not deserve any of your niceties so I thank you for that." She would have a small respite from the fear that haunted her daily, worried that her reputation would be 'ruined' once more. It would only cause harm to her family and she would do anything to avoid it. Nodding, "I told him, so that if there were consequences, he could help me fix it."

Taken aback, Cassandra had not realized that whatever that Callum and Beatrice shared was no longer there. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, knowing she had been the cause of the dissolution of their courtship, "I feel like him and I are falling apart," she said sadly, but it would not be fair to speak to Beatrice about it, "he is my friend and I do not want to lose that, but if he does not want me in any way, I will respect his decision."

There was a warm scent of freshly cut grass as William brushed down the flanks of his own horse, Cledwyn. While Cledwyn wasn’t a thoroughbred like most in Goodwood Race track, William knew that the horse could hold it’s own. He had William tending to him, day and night, every night for ten years, training, riding daily. The Baron’s Cup would be a breeze for a horse like that, but he was no lord. He was just a groom, easily hidden in the background so he had no place in such a competition. No, this was a game for those with titles, money, and names that opened doors. Not for a groom with mud on his boots and no pedigree to speak of. “Who do you think will win?” William asked Cledwyn, patting the horse’s as he was unaware someone was watching them both. It wasn’t a surprise, William had made a name for himself amongst those in the racing circuit for his care of horses, and skill with training them. 

She spotted him, whispering against the familiar horse and her cheeks warmed. Cassandra had not spoken to Will since she had divulged her truth, since she was taken from the Sinclair home, placed as Sir Thayer's ward. "You could win," she interrupted his spoken inner thoughts, offering him a small smile, "as someone who has seen you ride and the skills you possess." It was extending an olive branch, or so she hoped he would see it that way. She did not expect him to be so warm towards her, but she would be damned if she did not at least try.

Cassandra froze at Sir Thayer's offer, making sure that she heard him correctly. She was quiet on the carriage ride to the race but not more quiet than she had been in his home. She was thankful for him taking care of her when her fate rest in the hands of others, but she still missed the Sinclair estate and the people that filled the home with laughter.

Swallowing her own fear, "are you sure it would be proper? With Mr. Digby courting me and all?" The queen would be watching the entire ton and she did not want to insult her, not when there was so much hanging in the balance. She knew Sir Thayer was waving the white flag to try and appeal to her as best as he could.

Location: Baron’s Cup

Georgiana lingered near the stables, far from the buzzing chitchat and the clatter of coin as bets were placed — where the real heart of the race pulsed. To her, it only made sense to steal a moment with the star of the show. Meadow had been bred and trained under her family’s name, and she was eager to see her run. One gloved hand smoothed along the mare’s chestnut neck after some restless tossing. Smacking her lips softly — tsk, tsk — the young lady smiled brightly when she received a nudge to her palm in return.

“There, there, sweetheart. That’s better.” She cooed with a quiet chuckle. Georgiana had adored horses since childhood — not just for their beauty, but for their strength, their spirit. Her buttercream-coloured dress caught the sunlight, its delicately stitched hems swaying with the breeze. A few golden pieces of hair danced loose around her face, her bonnet dangling from her free hand, its ribbon half undone.

The crunch of footsteps behind her drew her upright. She turned on her heel with practiced grace to face the approaching figure. “Ah.” Her expression warmed with amusement, lips tugging into a soft smirk, her head tilting slightly. “Weighing your choices before risking a wager, are you?”

Slipping into the stables, her eyes searched for Dusty, Callum's thoroughbred, one that she hadn't laid her eyes upon since she left the Sinclair estate. Even Winnie, her own horse had missed the other as a depression seemed to take over her when they left. At least this way, she could assure Dusty that they were both fine. Immediately she spotted another and laughed, "god no," she shook her head, "I'm not the betting type. I'm here to see an old friend of mine," she smiled, spotting Dusty among the race horses.

Slipping off her silk glove, her hand ran along his mane, "oh how I missed you so much my dear," she placed a soft kiss against his fur, "do one of these horses have a special place in your heart?" Cassandra smiled at the blonde, "or are you getting a peek before the race?" She teased her. Although she had heard that Lord Callum and Dusty were racing, she had only wanted to see both of them since she had moved.

Margate was always seen as his haven, some place between the ache and the enlightenment of absolution. London was too far and gold only existed when the sun touched the sea. They lived in desaturated hues and with her in his arms, it was all he needed. She was the salt, but Thayer was no longer this gaping would— the worst of him drifted and drowned, bled out from the cuts she stitched together closed. Loves and burdens pulled from him and forgotten with the very rest of his life.

He'd been found at the church on his knees, begging and bleeding if not to finally entice god or the devil to hear his plea. If their lord would not grant him the mercy to lie besides everyone who was at rest, then would the devil strike him a bargain? He ruined his body, and instead it was the woman who kissed every scar and painted inch of skin none the wiser. Would he know how easily he would forget her in the years to come?

His lips found hers, sweet against the beach that still clung to their bodies from morning chasing the sun. Her mouth is cold, numb, and it is all Thayer needs.

"Cassandra!"

He looks to the doorway they're just barely hidden from in the archway. Her mother's protest breaks the softness in a hiss, and a weight returns to the room where they stand frozen— still. It is never a good sentiment from Mrs. Lockridge, and he only holds her closer. She gives in, trembling hands wrapping around him even if she is caught.

"You don't understand," She cries out, but Cassandra is gone. The door swings in her absence.

Thayer presses a kiss to her lips that break her smile into pieces, unsteady breaths threatening to shatter the moments left in this wake.

"I will go to her, Portia. Stay here, go to the bed chamber and I will return with her," He tells her softly, shaking hands clawing at him until she can hide underneath him. "I will bring her back, I will fix this— I promise, stay here. It will alright, my love."

Sobs rake through her body but they fall quiet as she searches for his voice. He breathes slow— willing her body to meet his with every rise and fall of his chest so she sits in the same quiet moment as he does. It is only by this soft touch of miracle, this patience and delicate presence, that she gives in. Brushing away her tears, he kisses their trail away where it is only sunburn and fluster that is left.

She is quiet.

He knows better than to leave her, but he knows where her heart lies. It has run across the beach, even if it remains, and there is no telling where she has gone. All that matters to her is the daughter who she strays from too easily.

Portia sits in the corner of the archway, nodding him away, "Please. She is at the cliffside, our place of solace."

Thayer does not hesitate to run after Cassandra where her footprints in the sand trace him back to her. His shirt is twisted and knotted against buttons disregarded earlier. They are ripped apart if only to cover himself but the inklings are still visible under linen, marks of old demons that her mother finds so familiar. He swears he is too late and the sun is bright, awake, mocking him with the beads of sweat as he runs to find her— to bring her back.

Cassandra felt like a foolish child, believing that her mother's happiness had something to do with her daughter instead of the guest that her father allowed into the home. Mr. Augustus Lockridge had let this stranger into their lives, granted him access to her mother only for him to commit the ultimate betrayal. She sobbed as she felt the pebbles scrape her knees that dug into the cliffside where rock and sand met. Cassandra thought about the fond memories of her mother patching up every one of her scrapes and bruises, sealing it with a kiss. Her mother would no longer take care of her in that fashion.

Eyes red as tears spilled from them freely, she glared at the man who had been a guest in their home until he decided to take what was not his, "my mother is sick," she spat out at him angrily. It was not enough to overtake the sounds of the raging waves, but inside she felt a tsunami grow, "you took advantage of a sick woman!" Cassandra did not want Sir Claremont to mistake her tears for sadness when rage was all that she felt. Shaking her head in disbelief, "after all my mama and papa have done for you! My mother found you in that church, begging on death's doorstep to me taken from these places! My father allowed a war veteran in his home, gave him shelter, food and this is what you do?" It seemed all of it had been a ruse to grab her mother's attention and take it from her family for his own selfish desires.

“Then you can expect honeyed biscuits tomorrow, anything to stay in your good graces.” William winked at Cassandra, chuckling playfully at her words, his eyes drawn to the way she dabbed the icing from her fingers. Uncle Henry hadn’t disclosed much about the family, only that they needed a stable hand and the house was in dire need of someone to lift the spirits; thankfully William fit the bill, and since his arrival, he had felt oddly at home here. Will's smile softened, his gaze warm as he leaned closer, his voice low and teasing. "Silly? I think it's rather charming, actually. There's something about a sailor returning to shore that sounds rather... romantic, defying the odds of geography to return to the one he loves. Perhaps not so ridiculous after all." His eyes caught hers, his with a playful glint. “Who wouldn’t want to get lost in such a tale?”

William chuckled, his grin widening as Cassandra’s laughter seemed to echo all around them. “I swear on my life, I do not jest! Who could resist falling asleep in a pile of straw while a horse looms over you?" He winked dramatically, unable to resist the chance to tease. "In all honesty, I was easier and cheaper than travelling, but I much prefer Margate; you are far better company.” Although his time at the estate had been short, Mrs Lockridge’s bad days had become evident, and William could only imagine how that made Cassandra feel. William’s expression softened, his gaze thoughtful as he listened to her words. "I can only imagine how heavy the silence must feel.” He gave her a soft smile, his eyes locking with hers. "I can’t promise to make everything perfect when things feel too muted, but I can promise to always be someone who listens when the quiet feels too much. I will always be on hand to offer you an escape, should you ever need it."

Cassandra blushed at his comment, "it's not that hard to stay in my good graces, Will, I swear." It seemed that in the manor where darkness had taken over, he seemed to be a source of light. "It's the ramblings of a lovelorn author," she muttered, setting the book aside. "It's romantic, yes but I do not think it is a common occurrence," she chuckled, "it's only a fantasy of course. I swear I am much more practical than this book paints me out to be." Her heart raced at the thought of the contents of her book, what would it be like to be infatuated with a man just as the heroine in her book was? Her heart could not fathom it.

"It seems you have lived hundreds of lives that I know nothing about. It's not very fair, Will," she grinned back at him, "you know all about my life, my mama and papa but I know nothing of your life or even your family. I do not even know if you have siblings or not." Cassandra asked him with a smile as she bit into the lemon cake, her face seemed to burn from the flush of her cheeks as he said he enjoyed his time here in Margate with her. "Thank you, Will," she murmured, "but enough about me, please."

As Cassandra continued, though, Edith sucked in a quick breath. The sudden flash of Arthurs laughing face crossed her mind. Any thought of love and he wasn't far behind. But she quickly focused on the woman in front of her, trying to banish her thoughts. "I think if the war taught us anything, it was that life is precious but fleeting." She started. She wasn't really sure what she believed but she was speaking to what she wanted to be true. "So many people lost their love - are they supposed to never love again?" She shook her head. "That would be cruel." She dropped her gaze from her friend for a moment, collecting herself. "So, to answer your question, I think yes. Yes, you probably can."

"Do you want to tell me about them?" Edith continued. She wouldn't pry. If Cassandra wanted to keep the specifics to herself, then Edith would honour that. She just hoped her friend would know that she was there, if she ever needed her.

"And I feel so selfish for loving two men," she sighed back, "for taking two loves from other people that may deserve it so much more than I." Always desperate for love from her mother and father, now Cassandra did not know what to do with what had been given to her. It felt wrong to her. "I care for both of them deeply, in different ways. How do I choose one over the other when I care for them so deeply?" She felt selfish talking about it to Edith, who had lost the one she cared for while Cassandra had to choose between two men.

Swallowing her own pain, "William Erwood," she murmured softly before sighing, "and Lord Callum Sinclair." It was painful to even say their names, knowing that she had lied to both of them, knowing that her heart was being torn apart for each of them. "Will was the groomsman for my family in Margate. It was so lonely there and with my mother, every day was hard and he was a ray of light in the dark. I fell for him and then my father found out which is why I am in London. To be with someone more suitable." To love Will would be hard, but it was fulfilling back in Margate. Could it be the same here? "Then Callum," she smiled, "he was kind and lovely to someone who knew nothing of this place. I did not even realize what happened." She was torn in the worst way.

He leaned forward to kiss Winnie’s nose, before teasing her, “I don’t know, Cass…she’s won me over. What can I say?” He wanted to say 'You've both won me over,' but his lips wouldn't allow him to. Friends. It should be a good word, a word that made Callum happy but it only put a dagger through his heart. He wanted Cassandra — wanted to provide her with a safe home, freedom to be herself, and to wake up each morning beside her. But friends didn't do that. "I hope I never lose you. You've brought me out of the darkness," he admitted, hoping he hadn't said too much. He knew if she got married, he'd support her every step of the way but he couldn't imagine her betrothed would allow her to continue a friendship with him. "They've bored you?" he asked, quite possibly with too much happiness in his voice.

His heart ached as she spoke of her mother and father. Upon first glance, you wouldn't be able to tell the pain Cassandra carried with her. She carried herself with ease, with a smile, and with an independence that made him weak for her. "Well, my mother and my siblings think the world of you," he assured her, "Like I said, you're an honorary Sinclair and you belong here. We'll be your home for as long as you want." He smiled at her, but he couldn't help but dread the day that she moved on, whether it be with her betrothed or back to Margate.

Callum laughed fondly as he watched Winnie and Dusty circle one another as they enjoyed the rain and he couldn't help but wonder if their fondness for one another was a reflection of him and Cassandra's fondness for each other.

The way her body fit so perfectly against his, as if they were made to embrace one another, it made Callum dizzy. He was suddenly convinced his lips were made to kiss hers, that his hands were made to serve her, and that his heart was made to make her happy.

He could’ve fallen to his knees at the sound of her pleading for more, the desperation in her voice — the command of her voice coupled with the throes of passion they’d found themselves in caused him to grow hard against her — a situation he’d never found himself in. He couldn’t help but blush, hoping she couldn’t see his pink cheeks in the rain, praying she couldn't feel how hard he was. “Cass, I’ve never…,” he started, his breathing hitched as she guided his hands to parts of her body he’d only dreamt of. “I’ve never done this before,” he whispered sheepishly. But, his body was feeling anything but sheepish. His hands trailed to her breasts, squeezing them ever so gently as he dove in to press his lips against her neck. “You'll have to teach me,” he muttered in against her sweet skin. He had no intentions of dishonoring her, but kissing her couldn't hurt right? "Not now, though," he whispered, moving his hands to her waist, squeezing her gently, "I will not ruin you." Pulling away just slightly, as much as it pained his heart (and his body), he looked at her with lust and perhaps something more in his eyes. "If you want me, I will wait for you. I'll wait for this as much as it aches not to give in."

Laughing, "she is an absolute flirt, so I do not believe you had much of a chance in resisting her," she teased him as she tried to brush the words he spoke off. They were just friends, she had to remind herself that everything in her mind was one sided. Her face softened, "you will never have to lose me Callum. No matter who courts me, we will always have this." Cassandra would assure him until he realized that they had a friendship that would stand any complication. She chuckled once more, "awfully boring, Callum. They are all so self centered. I do not care how much they stand to inherit when their fathers pass. It is all so macabre." Her heart warmed at his confession, "I love your family, they have all welcomed me here. I have not once believed that your family does not enjoy my presence. All of you have helped me so much."

The taste of his lips, somehow sweet as the taste of their morning honey cakes still lingered upon his pout. Fervently, she begged for morsels of his affections, desiring a man had started a fire in her belly, one that she couldn't easily fan out. His gasps only spurred her on further, groveling for more of him before she took a deep breath to steady herself. Cassandra could feel his manhood strain against his britches and wondered what they concealed. Throat became dry at his confession, "never?" Surely he only jested with her. Speaking to Thayer, she could only assume every man had a little bit of a rake in them, even the gentle souls. If this was his first kiss... she wondered if it was good for him or he had nothing else to compare her to. Fingertips brushed along his wet cheeks, realizing he spoke truth as his hands held a slight tremble, "you are doing wonderful," she assured him as a moan escaped her mouth when she felt his hands graze along her chest, "I promise you."

Then there was a drop in her chest as she murmured, "oh," pressing her fingers against her own lips, savoring the feeling of what was just there. "If you regret it, I will not say a word of what occurred today." She could keep a secret if it meant that he would not pull away from her. Her heart only sank further at his desire to not ruin her. What if she had already been ruined by another, her honor given to a different man, one that still held infinite love for her. She pulled away, "wait for me? I know you are courting Miss Beatrice, I should have known better."

William took a slow, steady breath, his heart aching as he watched her struggle with the weight of her fears. He gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing lightly across her cheek. "Cassandra, I understand your doubts, but I need you to trust me. Sir Thayer, for all his bitterness, needed help with a secret that isn’t mine to share. I already had half of the information; he needed help with the other.” Her next words felt as if each syllable was a heavy blow, one after the other delivering what felt like an emotional pounding. “Sir Thayer said he would convince him and said he would provide a dowry. While it would be a wonderful thing to have your father’s blessing, we have a way to be together and provide for your family.” If they needed it, Gretna Green would make a suitable venue, William had heard others whisper about. “You have my heart in its entirety, without expectation or consequence, and I hope that your father will see that.” William had his doubts about the weight of Sir Thayer’s words but hoped Cassandra’s father remembered the William he knew before he discovered he had fallen in love and intimately been with his daughter. It was a tough ask, but William was not without hope.

If he had more time and more preparation, William would give Cassandra the proposal she deserved. One planned out with her favourite things, preferably on the shores of a beach following a morning horse ride so the sun would make the waves shimmer, but this would have to do for now. William understood her hesitation; truly there was no offence by it. It was a big question that was sprung onto her without warning. He pressed the wired ring into her palm, his voice filled with quiet determination. William leaned in, and then their lips finally met; it was as if the world fell away—just the two of them, lost in the quiet sweetness of the kiss. It was soft and tender, yet filled with everything he’d held in his heart for so long, a promise of forever whispered between them. He lingered for a moment longer, reluctant to pull away, savouring the warmth of her touch, knowing that in this kiss, everything they had dreamed of was closer than ever. “I don’t need an answer now, but take it for what it is, my promise, my heart and my vow to you.” He closed her hand over the ring, leaving his hands holding hers.

Trust would be difficult for Cassandra when she had always stepped cautiously to avoid pain. It was why she kept her own mama at arm's length when everyone around her urged to care for her mama in the way a daughter should. Cassandra protected herself at all costs which is why she was hesitant with Will's words, "Sir Thayer," she paused, trying to come up with some explanation for their collaboration but she came up short. Nodding, "okay," she whispered softly, as she attempted to ease her troubled and confused mind, "I will trust in us. I want nothing more than my father to understand you are a good man, one who will take care of me without fault. I have never doubted you Will." It had been the rest of the world that dulled their love for each other.

Yet, when he presented her with the ring and his devotion, her fear took ahold of her, forcing her to evaluate her decision. If she had agreed, there would be repercussions: she would lose her family immediately. Would Will be enough for her in the end? "I do not want to make you wait," she whispered against his lips, "because if I cannot," she trailed off, "I do not want you to hate me." It was her worry to disappoint those who cared for her when she wished she could give them everything. Her hand wrapped around his neck, pressing another chaste kiss against his lips, "I truly do love you, Will," she whispered her confession but worried it would not be enough in their world.