Willow

Sophia spit into the porcelain basin, attempting to get the taste of bile out of her mouth. She had been sick of a week, even after changing some of her diet so it was more bland than usual, nothing was helping. The blonde let out a long sigh as she looked up into the mirror on her wash station. She looked pale, and tired. Whatever was going on with her was taking it’s toll. 

“Bridget, more water please.” She let out, not even allowing the young maid to get a word out as she walked into Sophia’s chambers. 

                                                         ~  ~  ~ 

“She’s been sick again,” Bridget got out as she began to fill a jug of water. 

“What, again? That’s the eighth day in a row now.” Margey quipped, the older woman shaking her head over the pot of soup that was steaming. 

“You all know why, don’t ye?” Another voice quipped, causing both Bridget and Margey to glance over. 

Charity was seated at the table, peeling potatoes for the broth Margey was practically steaming over. 

“Why don’t you enlighten us” Margey replied, chuckling slightly. The woman have never really liked Charity, but she was a fine worker. 

“The Frenchman’s put a babe in her belly. You know well as I, they ‘ave been together. Why, Bridget walked in on ‘em, did ye not?” Charity turned the attention to Bridget, causing the petite blonde to freeze mid-pump. 

“Bridget, you never!” Margey exclaimed, the womans loyalty to the Westons showing through slightly. 

Bridget flushed a deep red and she began to furiously pump the water once more. No doubt  rushing to get out of the kitchen. 

“Oh aye, she told me all about it. The missus had ‘im tied up and all sorts. No wonder she’s feeling as sick as a dog. I’d reckon there’ll be a babe here shortly after the new year.” 

Bridget said nothing, save for a small squeak as she exited the kitchen. Margey on the other hand turned to Charity, pinning her down with a cold stare. 

“I’ll hear nothing bad of Miss Sophia. You understand? And I’ll not have you going ‘round telling all your friends neither. She’s a good mistress, and she’s had a mighty hard go of it.” The older woman paused as Charity put her potato down. 

“I’d do no such thing, She’s a good’en and I’d rather not be tossed out.” 

In all her years on Gods green earth, Sophia had never been asked to go on a scavenger hunt for an item while at a party. Of course, such games were played when she was a child in the nursery, but she had not had the pleasure since her debut to society some years ago. Her digits gripped her invitation as if it were her ticket to safety. “A ceramic figure of a baboon?” She read aloud, curiosity mixed with confusion laced in her tone. Knowing the Effinghams, nothing would be in a place you’d first expect it, though where would one expect a ceramic baboon? Sophia slowly wandered over to the flowerbed, gently moving some of the flowers in hopes the ceramic figurine would be lying in wait for her. 

I do hope this note finds you well since I saw you last. 

I was reading a marmalade recipe this morning when it occurred to me that I have not yet visited the Royal Observatory this season. Since I rather enjoy your company, thought it might do me well to ask you to come visit it with me.

Seeing as it is dawning on the end of the season, my social calendar is rather free... Please, name a date and time to go - I am at your disposal. 

☩   ⸻⸻  Sophia walked into the sitting room of the Merchant residence, hazel gaze focused on the basket in her hands. Inside it was a precious secret, one that she had been keeping from her dearest friend for weeks now. Normally, baskets included food, however there was something better hidden underneath the lid of the wicker basket. The lid was propped up slightly so that air could get inside. 

Last thing she needed was to scar her friend. The contents of the basket moved around a little uneasily, and she decided to set it down on a table as she waited for her friend to join her. What a nice thing it would be to see the surprise on Aurelia’s countenance once she opened the basket. A whimper came from the basket and the lid lifted slightly and Sophia let out a sigh. “You must stay hidden, you can’t spoil the surprise yet!” 

One might wonder about the people he chose to spend time with but Lady Sophia was at least the less offensive of his companions. She amused him. He knew that he amused her too, knew as well that buried in that amusement was some small amount of wariness for scandal which only made things exciting to Ernest. She was smart not to trust him entirely but regardless, he was glad to be allowed to call on her. 

And call on her he did, brought to wait for her arrival in the drawing room where he cozied into an armchair, making himself comfortable. He wanted to go out, perhaps invite her to the pleasure gardens for a promenade, something interesting always happened there and Ernest had found it a delightful place to witness scandals. When the door opened, Ernest threw his head back to look over his shoulder, offering one of his devilish grins. “Afternoon,” he greeted.

@lcdyofcobham​

Sophia had been in the middle of writing a correspondence when she was told she had a visitor. Lord Pembroke was perhaps one of her strangest acquaintances. The gentleman was always up for a round of gossip, which Sophia knew was wrong. However, he spoke to the mischievous side of her, and considering the lack of eyes the followed her, a little mischief every once in a while could hardly be seen as a bad thing. 

The blonde walked into the drawing room to see the gentleman quite comfortably settled in an armchair. A brow cocked at his greeting, “Good Afternoon my Lord.” She began, offering him a small smirk. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

truly, he didn’t know what had compelled him to call on the dowager countess.

it was entirely too possible that he was acting out of a misplaced sense of morbid curiosity—she was henrietta’s cousin, after all, and from what little he knew, decidedly different from her at that as well. nik couldn’t claim to boast more knowledge about sophia weston beyond that. most details on a person’s personality were either picked up through means of idle gossip or conversation.

“lady weston!”

(it was a mixture of boredom and perhaps a dash of something else that led to him pursuing the latter option. that something else being a certain madame’s latest column and his ensuing curiosity about something he by no means had any business prying into.)

“we’ve never had the pleasure. i do hope you’ll extend me the courtesy—” his polite smile slid straight into a grin, “—of forgiving my manners. i come here seeking advice.”

which was the whitest lie he could give in the presence of someone who looked at him with such unassuming eyes; indeed, quite nothing like her scheming little cousin.

☩   ⸻⸻  Advice was not something Sophia was privy giving, most of the time she felt as if she were the one asking the opinion of those around her. Though , the seldom few times she had been bestowed such an honor, she had found the responsibility somewhat exhilarating. However, a man with whom she was barely acquainted was asking her advice, and Sophia’s interest was piqued. 

“Advice you say?” She mused, brow arched as she motioned for him to choose a seat. “Your manners are entirely forgiven, if advice is what you seek.” Sophia paused then, offering what she hoped was an encouraging smile. 

“What may I assist you with, Sir?” Surely, any sane woman would be concerned, but Sophia had never been one to shy away when her curiosity had been beckoned. 

Nodding in a swift short motion, Alexandre’s fingers trailed along Sophia’s arms as she leaned in, the tips of their noses brushing together in an act of intimacy that was unfamiliar despite how often he found himself in close entanglements with others.

But Sophia had always been different, the first moment shared between them an intimacy in itself, the kind that showed you who someone was at night when the world was asleep and the audience couldn’t tear you apart, mask left safely at the bedside.

“Oh?” How on earth did he make anyone feel safe? That was an accident, if one he was glad to cause. “Anyone that doesn’t accept you doesn’t understand what it means to find joy in living.”

She could be so vibrant, so loud in whatever emotion she was feeling and she called out to Alexandre like a streak of bright paint slashed through dark shades, the glow of daylight at the mouth of the cave leading to Hades.

He watched her eyes close and he watched them open, he wondered if she knew that she made him feel able to breathe. It was something she deserved to know, but Alexandre lost any thought of admitting to it when she kissed him.

It would be a lie to say that Alexandre had never thought about what it would feel like to have her lips against hers. That and other, more carnal things had filled his daydreams in the time since they met and Alexandre fell into it immediately, hands traveling up her arms to squeezed at her shoulder and cup her face. Of all the skills acquired through his life, kissing was one that Alexandre was certain he was good at and this kiss felt like one that was long overdue.

He’d always assumed that she wasn’t interested in anything beyond what they had, friendship and secrets, but without this, his teeth nipping at her lower lip as Alexandre leaned in, tempted to push her back onto the floor and crawl on top of her.

“Tell me when to stop.” Alexandre murmured, punctuating the words with a kiss to her jaw before finding her mouth again, fevered and insistent on making up for lost time.

-

It had been... Too long, since she had last been kissed. A year was a long time to go without the touch of someone, the feeling of their lips, their hands... It sent a shiver down Sophia’s spine. The warmth of Alexandre’s hands radiated through her entire being, and she felt as if something that lay within her long forgotten was ablaze. 

It of course, did not help matters that Alex seemed to be a rather skilled kisser. Matthew had been lovely, but Alex... His kisses did not feel rushed, or pushed. They felt right. 

Her heart felt as if it were about to gallop right out of her chest as she kissed him back, her hands finding a home on his chest. God did he feel good.  

It was decided in no uncertain terms that Sophia could most definitely get used to kissing him. To feeling his hands on her face, and the warmth of his body radiating against her. Of course, the purity of her thoughts became rather muddled when Alexandre nipped at her lower lip. 

That fire within her surged and her fingers clutched tightly at the fabric of his overcoat. Desire was moving through her quickly, and her once relatively stable mind was beginning to fog, the only thing in focus being Alex, and how he was making her feel. 

Sophia couldn’t help but lean back slightly, attempting to move with him, as opposed to pushing against him. 

           It wasn’t like Henrietta didn’t  talk  about her…  situation.   She just — very ardently postponed it.  There was always something else to attend to,  always something else to talk about,  there was so much changing around her and so many things to get up to speed with that it almost seemed an exercise to futility to, all in all, dwell in self pity by talking about what ached deeply within her, what troubled her, made her hands tingly and her chest feel tight and uncomfortable.   It had to be postponed.   Postponed until she was married,  or disgraced,  or both.   It could always very well be both. She had to be pragmatic about suffering, see, or not suffer at all.

          Plus, with her cousin’s own matters at hand, it felt quite ridiculous.  She was fine,  she was  alright.   She hadn’t yet lost.   Sophia was free:   free of her social duties (or nearly),  she’d been married and now she was excused,  at least for a little while,  to perform the dance steps again.    Ah!   If only she hadn’t been in love, all would be well.   That   was definitely something Henrietta didn’t quite understand,  not in that way.    She understood love in the way she loved, well, the woman before her, or Aurelia, or her father in that estranged way they had of recognizing one another as part of one thing that was…   their own.    She understood feverish love towards her child,  and she understood -theoretically- how one might be inclined to penance through the gothic-like halls of society’s metaphorical cathedral,  but she wasn’t… privy to the feeling.

          “  You’ve just been  watching?   No bachelor has been able to catch your eye,  truly?   Not even to dance?   “      Henrietta always hoped, while still playing along with the grieving period,  or whatever that was.  Truly,  she was   ready   for Sophia to smile whilst talking about somebody once more.     At the mention of Whistledown,  the woman perked up and wiggled her eyebrows a couple of times.     “   Do  tell.  Who’s been more on edge?   “       Oh,  how she loved gossip.         “  I’ve definitely seen some people…   on edge.   “     Richard, what with their strange encounter at Vauxhall,  and that… what was her name?   Pretty,  blonde —  ah,  it escaped her.   Definitely not out of disdain and more stress-related.

*/

☩   ⸻⸻   Sophia cast her cousin a knowing glance. It’s not like she had just been watching from the sidelines like a wallflower, and of course there was someone, but how did she go about mentioning him without seeming like a ridiculous woman? “You needn’t make it seem as if I have just been on the sidelines the whole time, I have of course danced and introduced myself back into society.” she mused, sitting up a little more in her seat. “There is a gentleman that has caught my eye but I’ll say no more of the matter, we’re to talk of you.” she stated evenly, giving her cousin a levelled glance. 

Henrietta was always one to love gossip, and Sophia couldn’t help but appease her cousin. “I would dare say the couples have been on edge, what with some of the rumours that the scandal sheet has tried to produce.” Sophia paused then and thought back to all the ‘secrets’ that had come out thanks to Whistledown. 

ladyaurelia​:

halestcrm​:

theseason-narrator​:​

The cards flicker back to rest, flat, upon the table again. Mr. Heyward can’t help but glance at the dish of jewels as it returns to the center of the table, glimmering.

“L– ladies, should you wish to hit, and add another card, tap the table twice, like so.” He did his best to be casual, and wound up tapping thrice out of nerves. Swallowing, Heyward nodded. “Should you wish to stay, simply place your full palm upon the table.”

—

Next round! Either hit, and increase your bet by declaring how many more cards you would like, or stay, and watch the reactions of your fellow card players. Keep in mind: you may go up to twenty-one, but not over.

If you should like more cards, declare it in your post and then roll xd10 in the thread! Cheers!

-

Victoria leveled her gaze at Mr. Heyward and insistently tapped the table twice. There was no use in being conservative, she figured she was more likely to come up short with only one additional card. 

[Roll: 9!]

-

Glancing at her two cards, Aurelia mulls to herself. She taps her finger twice, hoping that after her initial low draw, two more cards should be a enough to secure her a win, lest she not go over.

“One more for me, please”, says Charlotte after a small pause.

Sophia thought for a moment, 9 was a good card, but far too low for the game at hand. Besides, what did she have to lose besides a ring? The blonde tapped the table twice and held her breath.

☩   ⸻⸻  The warm summer air was a welcomed respite for some, but for Sophia, it was a nuisance. The heat had never made her happy, never called to her, and it made functioning more difficult than she ever thought imaginable. The only saving grace that she had, besides chilled white wine, and lemonade, was the heavenly presence of Gunters.

Thanks to the hot weather, Sophia had sampled all of their seasonal ice-cream flavours, and even left with a few sweets to take home. Perhaps not the most healthy of endeavors, but it made her happy. 

Sophia made the same trek she always did when the sun was hot in the sky, and entered the business. It was busier than usual. Most likely due o the fact that people would be leaving the city shortly, and wanted a last hurrah. Luckily for her, she knew what she wanted already. 

“I daresay, the line today is quite egregious. I have been here a rather embarrassing amount lately and it has never been this bad. I am astonished! ” She stated, gaze locking with another woman. 

It wasn’t a rhetorical question, or at least Alexandre didn’t think it was, but he couldn’t think of a simple way he could answer it. How could he explain something he thought was obvious in a simple way she would accept when she hadn’t noticed it in the way he acted?

Did she think the ribbon found its way to his basket by accident?

Did she think that he touched her without ever feeling intent, that he drew her picture in the edges of letters without having stared at her long enough to memorize the slope of her nose? Alexandre was not unaware of etiquette, he knew standards.

Using someone’s Christian name was meant to wait for engagement, and yet she thought he didn’t care?

Touching was supposed to be limited, and yet how often had they touched, fleeting touches stolen when no one could see.

The first time they met, it was without a chaperone. The next time they met, the official ‘first time’, she dragged him away to a darkened balcony. Yet she was surprised that he would want her? She wasn’t foolish, she had to know why men and women most frequently slipped away to places like that.

He wasn’t even supposed to send gifts if he wasn’t courting her, wasn’t that true? Yet what had he done that very day but send gifts? So had she, along with the letters that they shouldn’t have sent.

There was so much of their time together that society dictated they shouldn’t have had, that should have been restricted to courting or engaged couples, and yet Sophia, who was raised with such expectations, had never once wondered if Alexandre meant something with them, or if he was simply uncaring of such practices?

He hadn’t always loved her, that much was true, and he was scared to want her, undeniably, but desiring her was easy.

Maybe, on second thought, he did know how to explain it. “I never know what to expect with you. Of course I want you, Sophia.” Alexandre said, smiling as he leaned into her touch. “You make me laugh. No one else does that.”

Though it had been a mere matter of seconds between her words and Alexandre’s reply, it felt like an eternity. As if the world had slowed to a crawl and everything else that was occurring didn’t matter. Even the clock on the fireplace mantle had seemed to slow down. 

She had never had such a feeling with Matthew, save for maybe on their wedding day. Even then, it was not as intense. Perhaps there were different kind of loves, and she was in the midst of something positively transcendent. 

Her hazel eyes searched his. All the time that had passed between them, and they had been on the same course, feeling the same. How could she have missed it? Of course, she had thought or had an inclination that such a feeling was mutual... But how could she let herself believe it? Especially when it was Alexandre? It was easier to live in denial and keep him in her life than tell him the truth. 

Of course, the truth had come out - it had had to. Quite frankly. Though their conversations had not gone to plan, indeed, she was pleased with where the two of them stood - or well, sat. She had learned something about him, something dark. Something that would normally force people to run away, but how could she, when he made her feel as if they were perfectly formed for one another?

“I make you laugh?” Sophia repeated, a warm, mirth-filled smile forming on her lips as she looked at him. He truly was a wonder. Sophia moved a little close to him, allowing her nose to brush softly against his. 

“You make me feel safe, and accepted..” She let out, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. It had been so long since she felt safe with someone. Home wasn’t a place, it was a person and being around Alex felt like being home. 

It took a moment for her words to register. Alexandre could recognize them all individually, but joining them together into a sentence that made sense was a different kind of battle. Did Sophia expect that he would set fire to her home? Or was she asking if he was expecting her to keep his story secret?

(Yes, he absolutely was, but in the sense that it hadn’t previously occurred to him not to trust Sophia with it. Or had it? It seemed silly to think about now that the story was stretched out between them like like a mangled corpse dragged from the back of a wagon. No, it was not a charming sight.)

It wasn’t until she clarified that her words made any sense at all, or maybe he was just being particularly thick in the moment.

“Of course I want you.” He frowned, unsure where in the world she ever gained that idea. “That’s why I’ve been staying away from you. I’ve only loved you for months, but I’ve been willing to kiss you since the first night we met. I thought you knew that?”

Were they having two separate conversations? Did he make as little sense to her as she did to him? Alexandre thought that his interest had been plain, but perhaps he was a better actor than he gave himself credit for, no matter what his siblings thought.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Alexandre looked at their hands and then at Sophia before shifting, letting go of her just long enough to push away the chair with a harsh scrape so that he could settle on the floor with her. He liked sitting on the floor, it was soothing and it erased some of the distance between them, Alexandre’s hand finding Sophia’s again as their fingers entwined.

“Why do you think I don’t want you?”

There was not much that Sophia prided herself on, however, being at least moderately intelligent was one of the qualities she thought herself to possess. Upon hearing Alexandre’s words though, Sophia immediately wondered if she had been lying to herself. Was she truly so foolish and idiotic to not recognize the fact that they shared the same feelings? 

It was true, of course, that one often did not see what was right in front of them, but even still. How could she be oblivious to such a fact? 

“How would I know that? Your feelings were not at all obvious to me” She rebutted, watching as he sat himself on the floor right in front of her. It wasn’t as if she were a mind reader, she could not look into the inner workings of his brain and figure out his inclination towards her so easily. 

What a turn the conversation had taken. Though she was not exactly upset at where it was headed, a pang of guilt ran through her like a bell. He had just confessed something so shocking and yet she was focused not on that, but on her own feelings. 

Sophia took a deep breath and rolled her eyes, allowing her gaze to fall back on his countenance. He was so close, closer than before. She could see the curve of his lip, the vulnerability in his eyes - it caused her heart to race again. 

“Indeed. I enjoyed each one but I will confess it was rather strenuous to try and keep up but I still only average one letter for her every two, sometimes three when it was the harvest.” Tolly replied, laughing as he did so. 

“I have been quite a terrible influence, although I do believe my mother has enjoyed sampling the dishes that remind her of her youth.” He confessed in a conspiratorial tone before he brightened, “You should join us for luncheon so that you may try some of them. I know Vivi would be delighted to see you and of course my mother always enjoys the company of more ladies. I feel she has been quite lonesome since her other daughter remained in the countryside for the season while she awaits the arrival of her second.” 

His chatter was as cheerful as the day was hot, “I am utterly persuaded that it was created for a love. No one creates such beauty without love. I wonder how many engagements have started among its fine corridors. I did not expect it to be so large or so grand. What about you? Why do you think it was created?”

-

☩   ⸻⸻  There were times when Sophia envied those with close sibling relationships. Of course, she had her sister and Henrietta. However, there was a sibling bond that she so often saw in others that she missed out on. Though she was sure her dear friend was speedy in her correspondence, she was amused at the gentleman’s response to his sister. Were her own twin as speedy in her correspondence, Sophia was sure she would share the same sentiment as Tolivander. 

She was not exactly shocked at the invitation, but Sophia did take a moment to process it before offering the gentleman a smile. “I would be delighted. Weston house can get so very quiet in the evenings.” She replied, eager to see the dynamic between the family members. “I am sure the anticipation is rather disagreeable to deal with, but a child is a blessing - your sister must be quite excited.”

There was this odd thing when it came to languages that Alexandre didn’t fully understand. He could hear words, sentences, in English or Italian and understand them without problem, could hide his accent acceptably and reply without stumbling over the words (Sometimes, perhaps, he forgot the proper words, but that was often overlooked as Alexandre using different phrasing due to being French.), but he didn’t react to them in the same way. There was a weight that French held to it that wasn’t easily duplicated, and so Sophia’s endearment might as well have been writ in bold.

He hadn’t said it for sympathy, didn’t she know that? Why was she focusing on that part? How odd, he hadn’t thought this was a moment for the routine pleasantries of society, it was only them and they never bothered with society’s rules when alone.

Curling his fingers against her palms, somehow Sophia’s fingers seemed the most interesting thing about the moment, something nice to focus on as Alexandre ignored the way his head hurt. Maybe he should have asked her about getting a drink.

Wait, hadn’t he already had that thought?

Oh, and Sophia had asked a question, he needed to focus on that.

“Someone I love got hurt badly. Very badly.” He slipped into French and felt like he should have been using that language all along, as if the story was made to be told in French. “What happened then isn’t my story, but… I wanted them gone. I wanted them hurt. I don’t like fire now. Do you remember the Epiphany?” The first time they met, the first time they danced. “The bag they gave us, I still have it. I couldn’t go near the fire.”

How had that night ended again? Drunk in someone else’s bed? Typical, really.

“Very bad things happen when you’re in love, Sophia.” He declared with quiet certainty. “The closer you are, the more you get hurt. And I owe maman for covering for me, I’m going to protect my family.”

Her world was in slow motion as Alexandre spoke, the timbre of his voice as he spoke his native language pierced her ears in a way she had not quite expected. It was quite a notion to wrap her head around. The idea that he had intentionally set the blaze, meant to hurt the soldiers. Alex had never seemed like a murderer, and though Sophia did not exactly want to call him that, the maliciousness that he harbored inside was a shock. Though, she had to think for a moment... 

Could she blame him? 

Her home had never been occupied, never taken over by soldiers who made her life a living hell. His home had. It must have been misery, living in those kind of conditions.

She did remember Epiphany. How could she forget it? It was her first real outing after Matthew had died, and the night she had met Alexandre. It was a night of beginnings. 

“It is no wonder you couldn’t go near it.” she murmured in English, stroking his hand with her thumb. Sophia didn’t know how she felt. There was an odd sense of stirring in her stomach. Was it pity? Fear? shock? Whatever the case was, she would have to dwell on it later. 

She had to focus on what Alexandre was saying, not the gravity of what he had said. 

It was foolish really, to even think about what his statement meant for the two of them, especially after all he had said. She was selfish for even wanting to pose the question, but she had to ask. If Alexandre had no notion of continuing on with her, or doing things the proper way, why would she delay herself the information? 

Of course, it would absolutely pain her to see him flirting with others. Or worse, engaged to someone his mother approved of. Who would want a widow for a daughter in law? Surely a younger, prettier girl would serve better.