“Looking for someone? Who?” Byron asked, pulling back enough for her to see his brows furrowing at the surprise of her admission. 

The hour was late, later than she should have been out on her own but this someone must have some merit for her venture. At least to her. But he would pry no further. There would be time to chastise the girl in the morning, when their minds are both fresh and unclamoured by the night’s turn of events. He should send for her servant, he really should. Even being in her presence like this gives the wrong kind of impression, one that he suspected even Sophia would disapprove no matter how much she might trust his own good intentions. But the girl spoke her mind, preferring not to involve anyone else in their predicament other than all the privy parties. Byron, Eira and the sorry assailant. And for the moment, Byron respected her wish.

“You are certainly not wrong… It is perhaps why we— I should not be alone with you, especially at this hour.” Easily he let go of her, motioning for her to take a seat. His thoughts drifted to Bella for a heartbeat when the light from the nearby candle hit Eira’s face just right, illuminating her façade in a way that accentuated some features which bore a resemblance to the woman whose heart he had broken. He imagined Bella, tear streaked face and surfacing hints of bruising… With a sharp exhale, he willed away the thought of the brunette who seemed to be plaguing him more often than not these days and turned his dark gaze to Eira.

Byron picked on up her hesitance to trust him despite her own words of confidence. 

How could he promise such a thing when she’d given him no assurance that she would not attempt such an ill-advised venture again? He didn’t want to scare the girl, but he also wanted to keep her safe. He chewed on her question for a full minute before answering.  “I think it would benefit you to inform Sophia of tonight’s…um, developments. She will find out anyway. As you said, your bruises… I highly doubt that eagle eyed woman won’t take note.” 

He’d caught that, had he? Eira closed her eyes for a moment, deciding just how to answer his inquiry. “I did not mean to say that. I suppose I can say he is a friend, but anything more than that, he would have to choose to reveal to you himself. It is not my place to reveal all, even as I am grateful to you for your aid.”, she told him quietly. 

She smiled upon hearing his caution. “Surely no one would think anything untoward had happened between us, not with Isabella being my bosom friend. I would never hurt her that way.”, she protested, indicating that their history would make any type of flirtation completely impossible, though she had to admit that not everyone would make the connection. Eira took the seat next to him when he offered it and looked up at him in silence. 

January 6, 1811, Early morning Westhorpe Residence

The butler had to ask for her calling card – out of respect to her as a lady of her standing and to fulfill his own duties. Bella understood. That being said, Bella never even considered bringing a calling card to the Westhorpe residence where Eira was currently staying at. Not with how often she visited. Eyes widened as innocently as she could, Bella merely said, “But I am the calling card.” Though the butler seemed to look like he wanted to chuckle at Bella’s impertinence, he quickly nodded at Eira’s presence and successfully stifled his choke of mirth. 

Bella returned Eira’s hug enthusiastically. “Harding, one of our coachmen, was so kind to assist me with these packages. There were far too many for Nancy to carry.” She made the introduction as the two released each other and began steering towards the morning room. It was a strange sight to see Bella but not her blonde maid who could often be found shadowing her. “Not too cold to preclude us from taking a morning stroll if we so desired to.” Though Bella’s tolerance for nature’s elements were likely higher than most ladies their age simply because she preferred the outdoors than sitting inside embroidering any day. Now, as much as Bella would do much to take eira up on her offer of food, given that the brunette had rushed to the Westhorpe residence as soon as she had woken and gathered her wits (and gifts) together, she was a lady on an early social call with an objective. 

Dark eyes lighting up, she rose a sharp eyebrow. “My dear, must we continue with these pleasantries, or shall we leap into the celebrations.” Taking the first awkwardly packaged item from Harding and thrusting it forward to Eira, she gave a bright, “I wish you a joyous birthday!”

“Too many?!”, Eira squealed excitedly far too close to her friend’s ear as they were still hugging. She let go of her friend and greeted Nancy politely. “I’m so pleased to see you.”, she said, returning her attention back to Isabella. If one did not know better, they might have thought she was turning fifteen, not twenty-one, given how childlike and giddy the young woman was being on that particular morning.

@eiraeth​​ asked : rush, tackle them to the ground 

Jasper was quite aware of how miserable he appeared, mulled cider in hand ( it was his third cup, though to anyone who asked, it was only the first ) and a grimace staking claim on his features. He was quite aware of how miserable he looked for — and he had only arrived at the fairgrounds an hour or so ago — about a dozen concerned faces had approached him equipped already with their own, well meant yet equally annoying variant of “Goodness, Mr. Nightingale, are you quite alright?” to which he would smile and nod and insist nothing was wrong. It was not the frost fair that set him in such a foul mood — in fact, he rather looked forward to the event come January — but the temperatures which allowed for such festivities to take place. Jasper so loathed the cold, tried to avoid it at all costs, but there was no avoiding it come the start of the season. And so he suffered on, warmed only by glasses of mulled cider he downed at an increasingly steady rate.

A crowd had formed around one of the newly erected skating rinks, composed almost in its entirety of mamas watching their children skate about the ice. Jasper stood at the edge of the very same crowd watching, and contemplating; trying to decide whether or not it would be wise of him to rent a pair of blades ( it would not be, for clumsiness was one of Jasper’s more prominent qualities, though he would never admit to it ). He was quite lost in thought, weighing the pros and cons of such an endeavor, that he was none the wiser to a rather noisy commotion that arose behind him. 

One moment he was standing, cup in hand, building the courage to try his hand at skating ( it would not be his first, nor last attempt ), and the next he found himself flat on his back, front soaked with warm cider, and fall cushioned only by the thin layer of snow covering the icy Thames. The weight of another figure atop his own suggested the fall had not been his own inherit clumsiness, but rather the clumsiness of another.

He brought his chin to his chest, head a bit sore from where it collided with the ice, in order to gain view of just who it was who caused such a collision. He was entirely ready to accost the culprit, until his gaze landed on exactly who is was. 

“Goodness, Lady Eira, is that really you?” He was, noticeably, surprised by her sudden appearance. It had been quite some time since the two had last spoken. To be reunited in such a way, well … Jasper no longer appeared quite so sour. “Fancy running into you here, no?” He quipped, a rather cheeky smile tugging at the corners of his cheeks. 

Eira had also been warding off the chill with a glass or two of drink, but the more fuddling tents she visited, the more drinks people had bought for her, and she was more than a little uneasy on her feet. As she crossed the icy landscape, she felt herself sliding. Unable to keep from falling, she  slid into a rather solid form, then fell onto the ground, landing on top of him.

While he had unwittingly broken her fall, she quickly moved off of him, apologies falling from her lips. “Mr. Ni-- Nightingale!”, she hiccoughed inelegantly. “I am so sorry! Are you alright?”, she inquired urgently, hoping they would not have to find a physician. “Yes, it is me. I have not seen you in... goodness, how many years has it been?”, she asked, managing to carefully ease herself up into a standing position. 

Looking down at him, she asked, “I might give you my hand, but you might pull me back down if the snow does not provide enough traction. What do you think?” Eira knew she could not simply leave him laying there on the ice. 

@eiraeth​

prompt : touch

flashback: summer 1805

The summer heat had felt stifling, at least when inside the house. Outside though, the breeze seemed to linger at Henrie’s feet and ruffle his hair, gently carrying away his thoughts and leaving him feeling free. Henrie looked over at his cousin Eira, who had been visiting for the past week but was set to return to home soon – she seemed pensive, lost in too many thoughts where he had none. “Eira,” he said gently, lightly rubbing her shoulder to get her attention. “You seem much farther away than usual, cousin. What are you dreaming of today?” 

Seated on a chair on the porch, the warm breezes had nearly lulled her into sleep, but her cousin’s touch to her shoulder got her attention. Eira smiled up at him and nodded. “I suppose I was thinking of Mother. She always loved it when we visited here.” It had been three years since her passing, but she still missed her mother every day. “I did not mean to woolgather, though. Have you made any progress on your ...what is it you’re working on, again?”, she asked him with a gentle sigh as she brushed a dark curl out of her face to tuck it behind her ear. 

Once upon a time, back when Kitty was still a little girl and before her family had been touched by loss, the late Countess of Ralston enjoyed taking her children on early morning walks through the London parks whenever they visited the capital. At first it was Charles and Byron running in front of their mother while Ambrose tried to keep up and baby Catherine slept on her stroller, then the boys ran as their sister chased butterflies. Eventually, when the young Lords of Ralston left for Eton, it became just Kitty and her mother.

And then it became just Kitty. Well, just Kitty and her appointed escort who, on the young lady’s own demand, walked at least twenty steps behind her at all times. Sitting on the bench that had been her mother’s predilected she took a deep breath of the crisp winter air, wondering how it was that not many seemed to enjoy coming out in such a peaceful morning.

She was preparing to open the book she brought to entertain herself when a much more interesting little thing appeared by her feet. Lifting them up to save her slippers from the puppy’s tonge she left her book besides her and leaned to stroke the dogs head and gave out a laugh. “ Oh, no ! Do not apologize, please, ” she smiled. “ It’s truly a pleasure to be greeted by such a darling creature. ” 

She finally lifted her head to see the pup’s mistress and smiled wider upon finding an even friendlier face. “ I surely was not expecting this. But who is to say that the unexpected cannot make an already beautiful day even more beautiful. Besides, I do not think there would be any time that this little one could not make more enjoyable, could it?, ” she cooed, directing herself at the dog.  

❋❋❋

Eira laughed when she called the enormous dog little, for that made it seem as if perhaps she was used to even larger canines. “Thank you for not being angry, Miss.”, she said, gently tugging on the animal’s leash to make him heel at her feet. “Blaidd, I am disappointed in you.”, she chastised him softly. 

Noticing the book, the other young woman had, she asked, “Are you enjoying your morning? I had not thought to read out in the cold, but I suppose once you go numb from the chilly breeze, it is not quite as noticeable, is it?” Eira gestured towards the empty space next to her. “Please, may I sit for a few minutes? I have a feeling I will need the rest before I make the trek back home.” 

malakhi continued his spoiling of the large dog, making a bit of a scrunched up nose type face at the animal. his lips twitched into a smirk at her question. “are you keen on ear scratches as well?” he asked, finally looking up at her with a grin and an arched eyebrow. he stood up straighter when she asked his name, his hand moving from the animals head only to reach out to offer itself to her in introduction. “malakhi sinclair.” he stated simply. “and yourself?”

Henrie could’ve laughed, if the situation was not as serious. His cousin was alive, and after spending the last four years assuming she was dead, it seemed almost unbelievably comical to have believed the farce. Henrie hugged her back, the preying eyes of shop patrons the last of his concerns. “Oh Eira, it is such a relief to see you, I cannot imagine being happier than this moment.” He pulled back but grabbed her hand, unwilling to let go in case she disappeared into the crowds and out of his life once more. 

“We must talk, I cannot fathom how this moment has come to be.” Henrie’s mind wandered to his sisters, who were in the nearby shop, and how joyous the family reunion would be. But for now, he intended to keep it a secret from his sisters - after all, this was a shocking twist of events, and Henrie needed to discover how it all came to be before he pursued action against Eira’s cruel stepmother. “Tea would be wonderful - or something stronger, if you have it - let us go now.” Henrie took a step towards the entrance, before turning on his heel with a question. “But where are you living? Surely not with that wretched woman who called herself your stepmother?” He hadn’t heard any whispers of Eira, if his family had known it would’ve been the talk of the town, and would have reached his ears, even while he was staying with Aunt. Had she been in town this entire time, just hidden out of sight?

Tears of happiness spilled down her cheeks, and she barely noticed when he held her hand. Eira could hardly believe this was really happening, that he was actually standing there in front of her. She had wasted so much time alone! She would not have had to be homeless, for surely her family would have protected her, if only she had not been so naive and so trusting of that cruel woman. 

“Yes, please.”, she immediately agreed, following him towards the door, her reticule clutched in her empty hand. When he looked back at her again, she smiled and shook her head. “No, I left there a few years ago. I have been in London, but now I live with Lady Westhorpe. So much has happened, but I will try to explain.”, she promised, though she knew it would be difficult to reveal the truth of everything she had been up to; perhaps she would have to be vague about certain things she had to do to get by when she was homeless. 

Moving towards the door again, she asked him, “How long have you been in London, Henrie? How is ....everyone?”

Watching the man in front of her struggle to explain what had happened to his invitation and just why he was not on the guest list, Eira’s heart went out to him and she simply could not stand there without helping. While she may not have been the best judge of character at one point, her time on the streets had certainly helped, and he didn’t seem like a bad sort. Perhaps he really had lost his invitation through some mix up, or maybe it was just of great importance to him to be allowed in for the musicale Lady Westhorpe was hosting.