#deepperplexity rickmas

“There we go, Miss. All settled,” Mrs Marble said with a twinkle in her little eyes surrounded by wrinkles. “You shall be the centre of attention, such a beauty you are, Miss.” My nose wrinkled at her words. In anyone's eyes, that was all there was to me. Beauty. Golden locks, hourglass figure, pale skin dusted with a blush to highlight my cheekbones, and clear blue eyes not unlike the sky during a cloudless summer day. My appearance to any and all was that of a stunning woman in her prime at twenty-one springs of age — soon twenty-two.

“Time to go, Miss.” “Give me a minute alone.” They nodded and departed while I stepped up to the silver-framed wall mirror displaying the entirety of me. Dreary… The only thought echoing in my head was a sad affair to have when looking upon oneself. My eyes were not bright today, my smile not flawless, my shoulders slightly slumped and the weight atop them only grew heavier by the minute.

Outside, the snow fell slowly, just enough to dust the ground in white but no winter wonderland appeared beyond the large windows lining one side of my bedroom. In the middle sat a matching door leading out to the stone balcony, which was privy to a beautiful view of our large gardens with fountains and a large span of open grassland beyond the intricate layout of the land created by a landscape artist.

I stepped out into the cold, my skin instantly pebbling in the light breeze despite my dress covering nearly every sliver of skin from my collarbones and down. The sound of carriages, people chattering, and hooves stomping against gravel travelled through the air and a sensation most dreadful crept through my veins. This Christmas would be unlike any other. No use dawdling any longer…

I sighed, and as I began to turn, a black dot appeared on the horizon where the grassland slope began tilting toward our estate. I watched for a moment as the dot became an outline of a rider in full gallop, and wished — for just a moment — that I could climb my mare and gallop across the grasslands for a while to rid myself of the weight resting on me. No amount of riding will ever be able to take away the demand to marry before the year is out. How cruel a demand… There is none I hold even the smallest amount of affection for, how can father demand such a thing of me?

⁛•⁛

The hall gleamed. The polished marble floors, the spotless mirrors and golden candelabras reflected the glow of thousands of candles and the odd lantern here and there. The entire ballroom I entered, at a slow pace so as not to ruffle my perfectly fitted dress too much, was a haven for all things white and gold. The two colours I abhorred, along with pink in every hue. Still, it was a wonder to behold. A fairytale-like sensation lingered in the warm air while jolly, upbeat music filled the whole space where the rich and mighty of society had gathered. None were the wiser, none knew the true reason for my father’s sudden invitation to a “December Ball” — it had little to do with the season, and everything to do with my unwed state.

When Mother passed during the early summer, he became obsessed with marrying me off. Always under the guise of me being protected… Lies. For one, I was in no need of protection, nor were I in need of any rich man to keep my house should anything happen to my father — I was the last and only living relative of our family so all would become mine once he was old and worn out of life. I was perfectly protected in that sense.

“Miss Haymnick,” said a man in his mid-twenties, his brown hair neatly trimmed and his green coat perfectly tailored to his lean body. “Good evening,” I said with a short nod and curtsey. “May I request a dance with the lovely lady?” How bold of you. “No, sir. I am not sure I shall dance this evening,” I said with a soft smile to ease the blow. He merely nodded and stepped away with a slight rush and pinkish ears.

I moved further into the room, watching the well-dressed people filling it. My eyes landed on my father, dressed splendidly as usual and with a glass of brandy in his glove-clad hand. He was a handsome man, my father, but he was handsome in the traditional way — the boring way that seemed to be all the rage with the three young ladies standing a tad too close to him (I was no fool, he was a sought after man, my father, but he would not remarry — my mother had been his all and I was all that was left of her so protecting my future heritage was a priority of his in turn).

My eyes kept skimming the faces and clothes of those all around me. They were mostly known to me, one way or another, but none had ever caught my interest and did not manage to do so now either.

There were such shallow values, such lack of depth in those within the confinements of the ballroom I nearly felt my own soul dim under the weight of finances, politics, and outer beauty not deep enough to allow any true value to shine. Do not judge so harshly. You don’t know every person in this room. My mind whined at me, and I had to yield under its words — yet still, I felt as if I had met every person now present. Of course, my father had only invited the grandest of the grand, the richest of the rich, the most important in society to this celebration — which purpose had not been revealed to those attending. Such fraud…

I turned and Lady Hilliard stepped up with her son in tow. Oh, fantastic. I steeled myself as she beamed at me and forced her son, Mr Timothy Hilliard, to stand a step closer to me than her. “Miss Haymnick, what a marvellous celebration your family has put together, such lovely decorations and such high spirits.” I curtseyed slightly. “Lady Hilliard, Mr Hilliard.” I looked between the two and they both greeted me with a curtsey and a bow. “How fine of you to attend our celebration of December’s arrival,” I said, smiling to the best of my capabilities.

Mr Hilliard’s eyes roamed all over my being, the way he studied my neck had me swallowing a lump. He wasn’t a nice man, or one I found particularly attractive even if he in general was quite the catch in most young women’s eyes. “We are so sorry about Lady Haymnick, Miss Haymnick. My son—” she nudged him forward “—wishes to offer his condol— Oh, my word, is that—” she interrupted herself as the pair’s eyes moved past me and toward the opened double doors of the ballroom.

I slowly turned, as many had begun looking the that direction as well. “Oh, my word, it is!” Lady Hilliard squeaked quietly, a nearly hissed whisper of shock. I could not fathom her reaction to the man, my own being completely different. I had no idea who the tall man with broad shoulders dressed in red, gold, and black was. That did not stop my heart from skipping a beat at his unorthodox beauty, though.

I fully turned without realising, watching the man stride into the room with a regal air about him none I had ever met before could ever match. He was stunning, straight-backed but not high-and-mighty looking. He appeared strong and unfazed yet the way he moved spoke of a soft elegance. What truly made my breath catch in my throat was his eyes, though. They were on the smaller side, but in the golden light they shined while speaking of uncharted depths hidden beneath the slight veil keeping his secrets safe.

As I had watched, stunned, he had moved through the room and were now passing me without so much as a nod to Lady Hilliard who tried fervently to catch the man’s attention. His eyes, though, were fixated on me. My heart thumped harder and harder until he passed me by and turned his head — looking in the direction of my father who now walked toward the man in turn with determined steps I rarely saw him stride forward in.

They shook hands, exchanging pleasantries I could not hear over the murmur and music in the room. “Lady Hilliard,” I said, without looking away from the man’s back. “Who is that?” “Who is— Who is that? My word, you are young, Miss Haymnick. That is Colonel Brandon. A fine gentleman, rich and proper, unreachable yet gentle in his manners. He was sought after in his prime when ladies would line up to attend his balls and gatherings. Well, the few moments he was at home, that is. The man has been all over the world, fought in wars and returned unscathed time and time again. His estate, Delaford, was in disarray upon his overtaking of it but now it is most grand.” She blabbered and rushed the words out in a quiet tone so none other could hear, but I did not miss the longing in her tone.

“Is he wed now, then? Being so sought after?” I never thought you’d be of use, Lady Hilliard, with your gossiping from one end of the country to the other. “Oh, goodness, no, Miss Haymnick. He never married, he never sought a wife after his first love was lost. He is a broken but fine gentleman. My niece would do him good,” she said, the last part slightly under her breath and as I watched her for a moment her eyes seemed calculating. “She is too young for him, but nonetheless, he would be a fine catch,” she continued just as quietly, and the hunger in her features made me wrinkle my nose in disgust. She was a prime example of all things wrong with all in the ballroom. It was only thanks to my mother I had turned out differently, if that is such a grand thing given my circumstances, I don’t quite know…

“He’s such a catch,” she continued and my eyes hardened. “Rich, fancy, away most of the time and— Oh, he’s looking this way!”

I turned my head, unable to untangle my features from the disgust and annoyance before meeting the man’s eyes. His eyebrows drew together, his head gave a slight tilt as I managed to school my face into indifference — removing the ugly emotions and hiding the absolute flutter of emotions he stirred in me. His eyes hardened, though, and his thin lips turned into an even thinner line a second before I averted my gaze as his handsome features turned too harsh for my heart’s liking.

“Excuse me, Lady Hilliard.” She gave me a nod at my words but her eyes were hooked on the handsome man who now had looked at me differently. Perhaps my father had said something not to his liking about me?

I had no idea, but for whatever reason, his eyes had turned sad when he viewed me and the veil I had noticed before had solidified in a sorrowful manner. I might have been mistaken, perhaps he’s just like all the other frauds here… Calloused, cold, money-hungry and politically attached. My shoulders slumped.

I grabbed the many layers of fabric to lift my dress, making my escape from the ballroom easier as I rushed my steps to get away from the room giving me a sinking feeling of despair. One of the men in there would have to become my husband, and the suddenly appearing ray of hope when Colonel Brandon entered with his beautiful eyes, soft yet strong elegance, and stunning features, vanished as swiftly as it had appeared.

There was no more to it, I would be wed to someone I had no interest in — someone who would never understand me, would never discuss the depths of poetry an entire afternoon or share my love of fictional stories all through the night, nor would I be able to discuss the intricate turmoil within an artist viewed only through the harsh brush strokes across a canvas painted many years ago.

I did not wish for a husband to keep me on his arm for display. I wanted no husband whose conversation was limited to finances and politics. No husband would ever suit me if he did not have a depth to his soul, a passion beyond money, or even a love of something that existed to please the heart and not the bank — something that garnered emotions without any further value.

I had walked myself right through the grand hall, out the doors, and along the gravel path around the house in my deep thoughts. I shivered in the cold evening air as the wind tugged on my hair and pulled at my dress.

The sinking feeling in my gut only ever grew with each passing thought, each hope of my heart being lost. I stopped at the frozen fountain, the ice glistened in the moonlight every moment the clouds parted above. My foggy breath seemed to shake out of me as his eyes haunted me — the way they changed without me having any knowledge of why. They had been so beautiful, so deep, so captivating when he passed me. Yet, when he looked upon me again, and our eyes had locked, his features had changed so swiftly.

“There is no hope…” I whispered while looking out over the gardens with a most forlorn sensation within my chest. “You will catch a cold.” I spun around, startled by the perfect voice taking me by surprise with my mind occupied of self-pity. “Who’s there?” I asked, looking toward the corner of the house where the silhouette of a man stood.

The silhouette moved closer, each step allowing me to see more clearly as the lantern light behind dimmed in intensity and the light of the pale moon turned brighter. Colonel?

My breath stuttered out of me, the wind tugged at the ends of his long coat as he walked toward me in a harsh stride. “You will catch a cold, Miss Haymnick,” he said anew, and I could have sworn my heart did a somersault at the delectable rumble unlike any other I had ever heard. “A lady such as yourself should not be wandering the grounds unaccompanied and under-dressed so late at night,” he continued and stopped just two steps away from me.

The clouds parted as I turned fully toward him. His harsh features were cold to view when his eyes seemed so closed off and empty. “Colonel Brandon,” I said and curtseyed. “Miss Haymnick.” He nodded his head deeply, his voice slightly harsh yet wonderful. “Have I offended the lady?” I blinked. “Excuse me?” He straightened. “I may be no beauty to look upon, but even that has yet to warrant such a display of disgust upon a woman’s face before introductions have even been made. Therefore, I ask, have I offended the lady in some manner?” he asked while holding my gaze captive.

I blinked a few more times, seeing the gorgeous man up close again — this time in pale moonlight — had my mind out of sorts and my heart in an uproar. He was striking, stunning, powerfully elegant. “No, you have not, Colonel,” I said, my eyebrows drawing together while his features softened a smidge. “Nor have I looked upon a handsome man as yourself in such a manner, sir.” He arched his eyebrow and a flutter broke out in my stomach. “I may be up in years, but I am not blind, Miss Haymnick.” “I’m sorry?” “You viewed me with the most abhorrent of looks, disgust smeared over your beautiful features. I shall not pretend I have not received harsh welcomes before, but paired with the lie you but a moment ago told regarding my looks I cannot—” “Lie? I have not lied, nor have I viewed you with disgust, sir,” I said, my hands balling to fists at my sides.

He reached up and unclasped his cloak at the neck. “You said I am a handsome man,” he said as he stepped forth, his voice slightly lower — softer. “After having viewed me with disgust, I find that to be a lie, miss.” He draped the warm cloak over my shoulders as I leaned back, taking half a step away from him before he had time to tie the string around my neck.

I glanced down, the fabric was lush and warm while thick and heavy at the same time. It smelled like heaven — of hay, horse, musk and wind. How something could smell of wind I could not fathom but as I drew a deeper breath to calm my raging heart at his sudden proximity it hit me with full force.

“There,” he said, taking a step back. “You ought to dress for the weather, miss.” I looked up at him, stunned at his sudden kindness amid the accusations of lies. “Thank you… But, wait, I have done none of the things you accuse me of, sir.” He arched his brow again. “A good person, as I have heard rumours of you being, ought to strive for honesty. No?” “I am honest!” I shouted and stomped my foot in frustration — Mrs Marble would have a fit if she saw my manners. “You saw me,” I continued loudly, “before I had time to—” no! He cannot know of anything, a man like him would laugh at the pitiful feelings my soul harbours. How could a colonel ever understand such things…

His eyes had widened, the shock of my outburst apparently enough to spook him out of the withdrawn, colder state he’d been in ever since our eyes had locked for a second time in the ballroom. “I am not lying, my good sir,” I said quietly. “A man such as you, so perfectly attuned to the world we live in, would simply not understand, as I cannot understand the likes of men such as you.” “Men such as me?” “Yes. Men such as you, colonel.” “And you have met many men the likes of me?” I merely sighed at his calm words, nodding toward the estate housing a party filled with men such as him.

He chuckled and shook his head slightly. My heart stopped beating for a second. “So that is how you view me, after a handful of seconds. Then I shall bother you no more, miss. Excuse me,” he said and clicked his heels before turning to leave. “Sir!” I called, not truly knowing why but my heart roared at him leaving. Something about him was so different to any other I had ever met despite the words I had just spewed in my dismay.

He stopped, only half turning so I could view his profile before he turned his head fully. I took a step closer, curious and something else moved around within that curiosity, too. “Yes?” His voice, so dark and deep, made a shiver slip down my spine. “Are you not?” I asked. “Am I not, what, miss?” “Like them.” “Life would have been easier had I been, but I’m afraid I must disappoint you.” “That does not disappoint me, colonel.”

His eyes widened as I took another involuntary step, something about him pulled me in and the more time passed the softer his expression turned and the brighter his eyes appeared. There were layers there, depth and that warmth I had always searched for in the eyes of others. So I stopped two steps away, spellbound by the beauty he was — even if that was shallow of me.

“Is it true? That you think me a liar for calling you a handsome man?” I asked quietly. “I am not a handsome man, make with that what you see fit.” “But, you are—” his eyes widened “—and I do not know what to make of the way you changed when you viewed me for a second time.” “You viewed me with disgust—” “I was disgusted by Lady Hilliard, for how she spoke of you.” “And, how did she speak of me?” he asked, his voice turning even softer yet it kept the depth that rumbled through me like gentle thunder in the distance. “I’d rather not say such things, but she wishes for you to marry her niece.” “Many wish to see their nieces and nephews wed—” “No, not like that, sir. She spoke about your-, your wealth and how you are never home.” “I am not home, for there is no reason to be. I have wealth for I have none to spend it on beyond the orphanage and my estate.”

I blinked at him, feeling lost for a moment. “If I had a wife, I would be here more. If I had a home, and not a mere estate, I would venture out into the world less. As it stands, none have caught my attention. That is, until tonight.” Why my heart faltered and saddened by his words I could not say. The man was far beyond me in years, he was a sophisticated and aged gentleman with beauty I could barely comprehend — every second I looked upon him he simply turned more handsome, inside and out. The way he spoke of a wife, of a family being what makes a home, it was beautiful and poetic.

“Then why are you standing here, sir?” I dared ask while I gripped the edges of the cloak he’d hung around my shoulders. “Because you are standing here, miss.” “I— I don’t understand, should you not pursue her before the evening ends?” “I am, by asking if I had offended her, given her change in view from the most beautifully wondrous look rivalling that of clear summer skies, to one as harsh and cold as disgust distorting her stunning features unlike any I have ever witnessed before.”

My breath snagged in my throat in the blink of an eye. My shoulders stiffened and as he held my gaze unyieldingly I turned warm on the inside. Those eyes had seen horrors and beauty all around the world, yet now they appeared solely focused on me with a warmth within them rivalling the sun.

“You find me beautiful?” I asked, my voice a mere whisper. “Most beautiful.” I sighed and averted my gaze. “As they all do.”

His cold finger came up under my chin and I jolted back. It was not proper for him to touch me, for us to stand so close with no chaperon near. “I apologise,” he said. “Have my liking of your appearance offended you?” I shook my head. “No, sir.” “Then why..?” “I am beautiful, sir. I am aware,” I said with a soft smile while drowning in his eyes that had gone most soft and deep. “It is not always something…” my voice trailed off, for how could I explain that my beauty was a curse in the disguise of a blessing?

“It does not matter, miss. I am no match for you, either way. I shall take my leave so another, more suitable match can sweep you off your feet as you deserve.” What a romantic thing to say… “I wish you the happily ever after you deserve,” he said a breath later and clicked his heels together with sorrow in his eyes that tugged at my heartstrings. I had no time to make my brain understand he was leaving until he was out of view.

I jolted. I finally connect with someone and I, what, shoo him away? Oh, no… I drew an unsteady breath, feeling that warming scent of him waft up my nose. I ran after him, my feet thudding against the ground. “Colonel!” I called as I rounded the corner, just as he galloped out of the gates too far away for him to be able to hear me over the snorts of the horse and spraying of icy snow around its massive hooves.

To Be Continued...

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

NEXT PART » Prompt 5: Open Doors [A2]

A/N: I'll be adding links to parts as I go along through Rickmas - so if you revisit or find Rickmas2024 later on you'll have access to direct links to continuations. My plan for this year is several serial fics and a few one-shots here and there as I know I'll get stressed and need breaks where I can just write whatever my little heart desires from time to time. Rickmas is INTENSE to write for, so 🙈

Anyway, how we feeling? We ready for this month's shenanigans? 😊

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @sunnylikesfrogs @dianilaws @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @leah1243 @cherihan @poetry-and-tea @evans23 @mamawolfsmith87 @snapesrn @severussimp @slyckman @liv2post @clawsthecactus @sunset90 @meliabrandon @snapesrn @theheartwants-what-itwants @slyckman @thatlittlefangirl @ankhmutes @lessdepressy @snapesrn @theheartwants-what-itwants @slyckman @daddythanatos

Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

“That looks-” you bumped into someone and instantly turned “-I am so sorry! I-” But your mouth stopped functioning as your eyes landed on a gorgeous, tall and broad-shouldered man who stood far too close for it to be proper. He peered down at you with kind eyes though.

You felt your face and neck heat as you took an unsteady step back, and then another, to reach a more proper distance. You fumbled for a moment but took a light hold of the fabric of your dress’ skirt and curtsied while you looked up at him through your lashes. He bowed, deeply and elegantly.

“Brandon, my boy!” Sir Middleton called out just as the both of you were straightening. The man, apparently called Brandon, turned slightly hesitantly towards Sir Middleton just as he entered the grand room. “John,” he said and you instantly knew they were close by the use of Sir Middleton’s given name.

“How are you, my boy?” Sir Middleton asked exuberantly and the men shook hands. “Fairly well, I received your invitation for this years Christmas lunch.” “Oh, splendid, splendid! You will attend will you not? Miss (Y/n) (Y/l/n) will be here,” Sir Middleton said and pointed with an open palm towards you just as the tall and handsome man looked towards you.

“Really?” the man said. “Yes, now, (Y/N)-” Sir Middleton turned to you “-this man right here is Colonel Brandon.” You curtsied again as you were informed of the man’s status. “Colonel Brandon,” you said gently, softly, as you felt a little intimidated by the man. Something about his presence was a bit stoic and distant but with an air of reclusive sweetness. “Miss (Y/l/n),” he replied and the drumming of his voice was utterly heart-stopping. You straightened ever so slightly and Sir Middleton clapped Colonel Brandon on his shoulder. It broke the connection your eyes had had.

“How have you been, my boy?” Sir Middleton said happily and Colonel Brandon gave him a tight smile. “Nothing out of the ordinary, I am quite well. As well as can be expected at the very least.” “That’s wonderful. Now, won’t you come have a brandy?” “Certainly, a small one, John,” Colonel Brandon said and Sir Middleton laughed haughtily as if there was something wrong with only drinking a small brandy.

Sir John looked at you with a wide smile, “(Y/n), are you fairing with the decorations?” he asked and you nodded with a sweet smile towards the older man even if your eyes flicked between the two men. “Yes sir, I am doing quite well.” “Splendid, splendid, do tell the staff if you need help.” “Thank you, Sir Middleton.” “And how many times must I tell you to call me John, dear?” “One more time, sir.” Sir Middleton laughed while he shook his head, humoured but a bit exasperated perhaps.

You turned towards Colonel Brandon and curtsied as you spoke his name in a farewell and he returned the favour by bowing and uttering your name in turn. It sent a shiver down your back and when he straightened his warm eyes found yours for a moment before Sir Middleton beckoned him to come to the second parlour.

You watched as the men walked away, your eyes lingered on the colonel and a little fluttering erupted in your stomach as you saw him glance back over his shoulder. The smallest of slightly embarrassed smiles played across his lips and you instantly turned. It was not proper to view a man you had just met as you had been. But he is most fine of a man; handsome, regal, grand.

A few moments passed before Mrs Jennings came into the room with a flourish to her movements and a slight pant to her breaths. “Goodness, (Y/n), have you met him?” she asked hastily as she marched right up to you. “The colonel?” you asked as you were decorating a third garland that was to be hung above the windows. “Yes! Yes, my goodness,” she gushed as her eyes twinkled in that all too familiar way when she was devising a ridiculous plan to connect people - and not in the business way.

“He’s a most fine gentleman, he owns Delaford. It was left to him in a less than good condition but now it is in the most excellent and respectable condition,” she gushed and you could see that she was after something. “Mrs Jennings, please, what are you up to now?” She chuckled at that and stepped closer so you put the garland down to give her your full attention out of respect for the woman - a woman you were quite fond of really.

“You must marry him of course,” she said with a grin and a wink while your eyes widened. “Mrs Jennings!” you scolded even though you were already very much intrigued and interested in the handsome man. I’ve only just met him, for goodness sake! “Now, now, you listen her sweet one,” Mrs Jennings said and took a hold of your hands, “You are a beautiful young woman, the colonel is a respectable and fine man who would provide well for you.” “I have money, I am not poor, Mrs Jennings.” “Oh I am aware, but he is a most handsome and kind gentleman. Sure, he is thirty-five years of age but he’s not unbecomingly old,” she gushed on in a hushed tone so none other would hear her.

Mrs Jennings was a self-proclaimed matchmaker and since all her own children were wed she spent her days meddling in others affairs. Sir Middleton joined in too, and you had to admit that the both of them were rather good at meddling and getting people to do as they thought were best - in a good way.

“I’ve only just met the man,” you sighed out as you wrung your hands free of Mrs Jennings (respectfully and gently). “I am aware, but there is no time like the present, I shall have to make some arrangements for the Christmas lunch!” “Oh, no, Mrs Jennings please do not-” you sighed “-and she’s gone. Oh this shall surely become a mess,” you muttered as you turned back to the garlands with a deep sigh. But, then again, you weren’t opposed to the idea of getting to know Colonel Brandon. But not in that direct, meddling way. Why does she always have to meddle?

You returned to your garlands and finished the last two so you would have one for each of the four large windows and one for the doorway. Now I just need to put them up, you thought to yourself and went on a hunt for a ladder. Otherwise you would not be able to reach all the way up.

A few minutes later you were climbing up the ladder with one of the garlands precariously slung over your shoulder while you used one hand to hoist up your dress a bit and the other to hold on to the ladder.

You hummed ever so slightly on a Christmas carol while you perched yourself as steadily as you could and began to fasten the garland to the curtain rod. You adjusted it so it hung nice and straight and then leaned back ever so slightly to make sure it looked good.

“Careful, Miss (Y/l/n).” The drumming voice of Colonel Brandon filled the room and you jolted by the suddenty of it. You glanced over your shoulder to see him stand in the doorway, back straight and shoulders squared while gazing up at you with those kind eyes of his and that stoic but gentle expression he appeared to commonly hold his face in. “You gave me a fright, Colonel,” you said as you tried to calm your heart a bit. “Not my intention, I assure you, Miss.”

You sighed and began to climb down carefully so as not to trip on the hem of the pretty dress. When your feet hit the floor you turned and gasped as he had silently stepped all the way up. He was as close as could be without breaking any societal rules.

“You are quite brave, climbing ladders in a dress, Miss.” His voice vibrated through the air with a slight humming to it that sounded far too comforting and gentle. “I-, I like to decorate,” you said with a slight stutter as his eyes were captivating you. “Is that so?” “Yes,” you whispered. “Yes, Colonel Brandon.” His title and name sounded grand and proper, you found that you liked his name. It was simple yet commanding.

The colonel smiled gently and your heart warmed. You had no idea how you could be so affected by a man - and so instantly too. But he was so handsome, and he appeared so kind and gentle even if there was a certain stoicness to him. His regal features and the way he carried himself showed both burdens and privileges.

“Shall I assist you, Miss (Y/l/n)?” he asked while your cheeks were slowly heating from the proximity, from being close to a fine man as him - a man who was looking at you with a certain warmth in his eyes. “With the garlands?” you asked in an effort to pull yourself out of your own thoughts. He nodded, “Indeed. I’d rather you not fall.” “I’m more than capable though,” you said and he chuckled while he smiled without showing any teeth. “I do not doubt it, you appear to be a handy woman but please, allow me.” It was your turn to nod and he gave you a wider smile before he stepped around you.

You watched as he climbed up and down the ladder, time and time again to place the garlands. He asked for your directions, indications to centre the decorations and you found that the two of you talked rather smoothly with each other. He was truly kind to help you, and he listened to your directions.

You could not help but look at his large hands as they tied up the garlands. They looked rough, from being in the army no doubt. Perhaps he worked himself a bit on Delaford as well? Mrs Jennings did say he had renovated it. You wondered about that at the same time as you wondered what his hands felt like to touch. That made you shake your head to get rid of the wayward thoughts.

“There, all done,” Colonel Brandon said as he had climbed down from the ladder. “It looks beautiful, however, there is one left, Colonel,” you said gently and pointed towards the garland on the table that needed to go up as well. “It is to be placed above the door.” “Certainly,” he said and grabbed the ladder and hoisted it up as if it weighed very little. Took me a lot to get that darn thing in here and he’s just picking it up as if it weighs nothing.

You watched as he climbed up the ladder one last time and you could not help but admire the way his body moved so swiftly and elegantly. “Is that good?” he asked as he held up the garland. “Hm, a little to the left please,” you said as you stepped closer so you’d have a better view. “There?” “A little more, and up a bit too please.”

You tilted your head, “That looks good.” “There it goes then,” he chuckled out and you could not stop the slight smile that tugged at your lips while you watched him fasten it to the already existing nails in the wall.

You backed up and stood in the centre of the room as he climbed down and then joined you. “It looks wonderful,” you whispered out as you took in the grand tree, the garlands, the red drapes and the candelabra atop the table decorated with pine, pine cones and little ribbons of green silk around its stem. “Indeed, it does. Makes me want to decorate my own home as well.” “Oh? You have not decorated it for Christmas?” you asked while your eyes locked with his.

He chuckled and glanced to the side, a bit embarrassed perhaps, and then looked back at you. “No, I have not and I never have. I am rarely home,” he said and that made you tilt your head a bit. “Even if you are not at home much, I dare think you have servants residing there at all times?” “I do, yes,” he said with a hint of surprise to his voice. “Then decorate for them, give them a chance at some Christmas spirit,” you smiled out and something about him appeared to soften. His shoulders sank a tiny bit and his stand shifted slightly.

It was small details but since you stood so close you saw it clearly. “Perhaps I should do just that,” he said with a low tone that was incredibly warm. It made something in your stomach flutter and your eyes flickered away from his. Now you were embarrassed, having spoken so boldly and freely to the colonel but there was something about him that just put you at ease. It was a bit strange really. You weren't usually like that.

“Perhaps,” he began, “I can entice you to help me with the garlands?” he asked gently but there was a certain hesitancy to his voice that made you look back at him. He looked a little nervous, a little tense, a little carefully observant. “Well, I-” “There you are!” the loud voice of Mrs Jennings sounded out and you instantly blanched and took a step back as you and the colonel had been standing very close. A bit lost in the small moment that had felt slightly intimate really.

You both looked to her as she came in and joined the two of you. “I’ve been searching for you Colonel Brandon,” she said with a wide grin and wrinkles of happiness all over her face. “You found me, Mrs Jennings.” The colonel sounded different, a bit more distant and a bit more stoic again as he spoke with Mrs Jennings. “I have made all the arrangement’s for the Christmas lunch,” she said happily. “I shall be here for it,” he replied and Mrs Jennings gushed out her happiness about that and you did not miss the quick glance in your direction.

“Now, dear Brandon, would you do me the favour of hosting for our dear (Y/n) this weekend while I am away to London for some secret shopping?” Your heart absolutely stopped within your chest at that moment. What? I’m to stay at Delaford? With, the colonel? Alone? Is that-, is that proper?!

“She cannot remain here?” he asked with a quick glance towards you just as you felt your face heat anew. “Oh, Colonel Brandon, surely you can see how I cannot with good conscience leave our dear (Y/n) all alone here? No, she needs someone that looks after her, she gets up to quite a bit of mischief you know. Surely you’ll look after her for me for a few days?” I am no incapable Mrs Jennings! You wanted to shout the words but at the very same time your heart sped up at the thought of getting more time with the Colonel, without the meddling of Mrs Jennings or Sir Middleton.

“Well, I asked her but a moment ago to help me put up garlands in my own home so surely that can be arranged. If Miss (Y/l/n) agrees of her own accord, of course.” You glanced up at him and you could not help but feel awe for the grand man. He could easily just have agreed with Mrs Jennings but there he stood, giving you a choice in the matter.

So, you did the only thing you could think of and agreed to stay with him for the weekend. To hang garlands and decorate his home while Mrs Jennings went away to London. Mrs Jennings seemed mighty pleased with herself as she left the room to look for Sir Middleton and the housekeeper to prepare for the trip.

“I apologize,” you said while you clasped your hands in front of you, “Mrs Jennings enjoys to meddle.” “Oh, I am well aware, Miss (Y/l/n),” he said with a deep chuckle and that made you smile at him. “She’s done this to you before?” you asked quietly, nervously. “Indeed, but this is the first time I’ve agreed.”

Your lungs constricted as his kind eyes twinkled while he reached for your hand. His warm, rough skin against your own sent shivers along your arm and down your back while he raised your hand to his lips. He planted a gentle, soft kiss atop the back of your hand while he bowed ever so slightly.

He glanced up at you and then straightened before he released your tingling hand. “Until tomorrow then,” he said in that drumming, almost humming voice of his and you curtsied. “Until tomorrow, Colonel Brandon,” you said with a slightly subdued voice as your throat felt dry and your chest was a bit too tight while something gentle fluttered and spread out warmly in your stomach.

He smiled sweetly and there was a wish or a wonder in his eyes that you wanted to discover but then he turned and began to leave. You watched as he took long strides out of the all of a sudden very warm room and then you released a deep breath that left you with a wide smile. Colonel Brandon, Delaford, garlands and ladders. Is it wrong of me to be utterly giddy over him allowing me to stay? Of him asking me to help decorate his home? I hardly know the man, but do not all relationships start between two strangers?

With those thoughts in your head you rushed towards your bedroom to essentially turn your wardrobe inside out to find the absolutely best dresses you had brought with you. Why? Because you were excited and finally there was a man who had caught your interest, someone kind and gentle. Your smile widened and you felt thankful for all things garland.

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

Taglist: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @snapesmoonlight @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @bluefirefox23 @eternal-silvertongued-prince @leah1243 @rickmandowneyjr @thethotthatbreathes @yellowbadgermole @snapesangel @a-queen-and-her-throne @eternal-silvertongued-prince

Want to be tagged? 🖤 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍