They’d been waiting a short spell with the Percy family, and after a time Marcus began to wonder if young Emiline might have run off in the night to avoid their meeting. He pondered posing the question to his parents in secret, but knew better than to draw his mother’s ire. She was a viper of a woman, friendly with strangers and acquaintances but quick to snap at him and his siblings over the smallest insubordination. Today, however, she seemed in absolutely fine spirits. Marcus supposed he would be too if he were about to secure a prosperous partnership with another family, however unwanted it was by the parties most involved.



Finally, however, their arrival was announced. “Sir Alister and Miss Emiline Percy.” Marcus resisted the urge to sneer at how stuffy and formal it all was, lest his future bride catch the look on his face and assume his disdain was directed at her.



On the contrary, and much to his pleasant surprise, Miss Percy was striking. Not striking in the way that would give you a fright, but whomever had put together her outfit for the day had done a fine job. Every shiny strawberry hair was in place, and she looked a picture as she finished her curtsy and extended a small gloved hand to him. Despite having been at court for longer than he’d have admitted, Marcus was still not as well versed in the social cues of the events as his parents would have liked. After a short pause, Reginald Fulton sharply poked his son in the spine, jolting him back to the moment.



“Please, the pleasure is mine,” he said, as cooly as possible. A cold shock of nerves had settled in his belly now, the reality of it all settling in. This wasn’t another pretty girl he’d share a few dances with and perhaps be able to convince to sneak off for a nighttime walk, it was his future wife. His hand trembled a bit as he gently grasped hers for a single, succinct shake.



Then Marcus stepped back, hands clasped behind him politely, unsure how to continue. Thankfully, Lord Fulton was ever to the rescue just as his mother had begun to turn a fiery eye on him. “Myself and my wife are glad you could make it here on such short notice. I do hope your trip was good. Marcus has been positively giddy to finally meet young Emiline, haven’t you?” he turned and nudged his son in the gut, prompting him to nod his head.



“Certainly,” he spluttered, cheeks turning red. Lady Fulton flashed them both a murderous glance before turning back toward the Percys, a glowing smile across her thin face. “And I do hope you don’t mind my saying, Emiline, but you look just ravishing today.” Marcus rolled his eyes at his mother’s tendency to try and fix awkward situations with compliments, ignoring the fact that it had worked more often than not.



The Fultons had quickly risen in station over the years due to a windfall with Reginald Fulton’s trading business, but no matter how hard his mother had tried to have them all trained it was still quite evident that they’d begun ‘in the dirt’, as she ever so loved to say. Their manners would always be a little less polished, a little less ingrained, than that of a family such as the Percys who had had generations to tidy themselves up.

The warmth of her skin beneath the thick material of her dress was still enough to send shocks up his fingers, her eyes boring holes into his as he gazed down at her.



The music in the background was a fuzzy, distant tingling in his ears. Emily was the only thing in the world. Thinking back on their first, awkward meeting, Marcus could hardly believe a lady such as herself would even have him.



“I’m still not convinced this isn’t just a wonderful dream, but if it is I pray I never wake up.”



--------------------------------------------------------



Somewhat shamefully, Marcus had been paying little attention to the chatter amongst the Lords and Ladies. It was always the same thing anyways, but still he was a bit embarrassed as the subject was swiftly and with little grace switched back to he and Emiline. Her brother, whom hadn’t spoken much before that, seemed eager to get them out alone. It was well enough, Marcus supposed, for he knew well of Alister Percy and his many exploits. Miss Percy’s older brother was surely not so ready to chaperone just for altruistic reasons, though Marcus didn’t blame him. He was much the same, often prowling like a tomcat in the gardens while the ladies hid their blushing cheeks behind delicate lace fans.



Just like that, Emiline’s little hand was grasping his bicep as gently as a butterfly visits a flower and they were off, with Alister following behind at a farther distance than was socially acceptable. After a moment Marcus lost track of him altogether, and just as the discomfort between them began to grow the girl took the initiative to speak. He was never quite so shy, and why his tongue had betrayed him now he was unsure, but thankfully Miss Percy was less of a coward. “I’ll admit I’ve never heard Vivaldi, but Beethoven is quite good,” he said, clearing his throat. “Perhaps you’ll enlighten me to some other good artists as well.”



Just as he was about to flounder for another subject, Alister came leaping around the bend like a happy puppy. They paused and the young man quickly bade them farewell, exiting with a coy command to behave and a short wave. Marcus smiled, but then quickly wiped it away before Emiline could see. It wouldn’t do for her to think he was comfortable with such unscrupulous actions, even if in truth he didn’t mind at all. “No need to apologize, miss. It’s just lucky that most don’t come to this area of the gardens, lest we be seen alone.” Marcus instantly realized the implications of that sentence and sped past it, hoping she wouldn’t ponder too long on what he’d just said.



“So, your parents mentioned you’re well-learned in languages and the arts, and it seems as if you have a healthy interest in music as well. What else do you enjoy doing? I’ll admit we don’t leave town terribly often so I don’t know what life’s really like in the countryside.” Marcus adjusted the collar of his shirt, wondering if she thought he was teasing her for having such unladylike interests. He’d seen her horror when her language studies had been brought up, and it intrigued him more than anything. Only talking to girls about the latest fashions from Paris got ever so tiresome, so he hoped she might have something more...intelligent to say.

He waited as she became flustered again, stumbling over her words. Marcus hadn’t meant to get her in such a state, but it was a little bit funny to watch her flounder for a moment, as mean as that would have sounded if he’d admitted it to anyone. “If you’d like me to be very honest, Miss Percy,” he hadn’t gotten used to using her first name just yet, “I think that it’s rather old fashioned to assume that women are only good for cooking and cleaning. Those things are important of course but I don’t see why anyone should be concerned if you know other things as well. My mother had brought up the idea-” he stopped himself just in time. While his mother had been the one to bring Emiline to his father’s attention, she had less than pleasant things to say about her education. Lady Fulton often had less than pleasant things to say about nearly everyone, though Marcus also kept that to himself. “Well, I will just say that my mother is very traditional in that respect. But I am not; I think it would be splendid if you could help me translate some documents. Languages have never been my strong suit.”

His mouth was already open to continue his line of questioning when a gaggle of familiar faces appeared on the opposite side of the path coming toward them. Marcus’ heart dropped as Carinna’s smiling face all but pranced toward them, her little cronies waiting in the wings for now. For a brief moment he hoped she and Emiline were somehow friends, however stupid of a dream that may have been. Even he, a man with little knowledge of how females interacted in their own groups, could see the maliciousness behind Carinna’s warm smile. Though if he was honest with himself he wasn’t sure Carinna Carlyle had ever produced a genuine smile in her life, so perhaps that’s just what she looked like.

The interaction started well enough, with Miss Carlyle gushing about her new betrothed, a young man who was well known but not particularly loved at court. Frederick Fontaine was dumb as a boot but very well off, and if Marcus’ memory served he hadn’t been quite so decorated in the army as Carinna had said, but perhaps some new daring feats of bravery had occurred between now and the last time the rumor mill had churned out its latest news.

Finally, the real insult came. Carinna looked straight into his face and pretended not to know him; Marcus’ jaw itched to correct her, to remind her of how she’d plead after him like a lost puppy and how he’d turned down her family’s proposal without regard to their riches. That had been a very uncomfortable day in the Fulton household, and he still wasn’t sure his parents had forgiven him. Still, he held his tongue for Emiline’s sake, it wouldn’t do to humiliate her on such an important day. But it also wouldn’t do to allow Carrina to do so either. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Carlyle,” he said through gritted teeth. “I regretfully have not been able to attend as of late, my father has had some business dealings he’s requested my help with.” This was his own little lie, for the simple fact of it was that he did not wish to attend and so he didn’t.

While it was true that the Percys were many, having gained the nickname ‘Plentiful Percys’ by those who did not favor them, Marcus didn’t much like the tone Carrina took when speaking about them. Of course he had just met Emiline and knew almost nothing about her, but she was about to become family to him as well and he could not stand by while sometimes such as Carrina insulted her and her kin. Emiline had nothing to say back to Miss Carlyle’s little idle threat, but her small hand has clamped so tightly around his arm he feared a bruise would crop up later. Marcus had never been the type to freeze up and lose his words under duress, thankfully, though he could understand why Emiline did. It was more important for a young lady to maintain her graces, and more difficult for her to recover if she did not.

“I suppose Lady Percy, if she were to somehow find out about this, would react similarly to how yours would if she knew about yourself and Lord Holden’s little misadventure last summer. Luckily no one will ever know of this encounter nor yours with Holden, so there’s nothing for us to worry about.” Marcus smiled warmly at Carrina’s now gawking face, ignoring her friends standing nearby whispering to each other with the most scandalized looks on their faces. They must not have behaved for the idea that Marcus could make threats too.

For once, the small blonde girl had no quick retort. They’d always been rather evenly matched in wits, and perhaps that was why they had never gotten along well no matter how much they tried. “I would like to congratulate you on your betrothal, I do hope Emiline and I will receive an invitation to the ceremony. It’s wonderful you’ve finally met someone, I know it must have been rather difficult after having been at court for so long without much luck. Please, if you’ll excuse us, we should be getting along before we are missed.”

He knew that would cut her right to the quick and judging by the way her cheeks had reddened, with anger rather than humiliation, his theory had proven accurate. No matter how beautiful Miss Carlyle was, it was difficult to like her once she’d opened her mouth. It was lucky that Lord Holden had been able to see past that, Marcus thought.

“It’s just as well, I’ve got some other friends to visit today and I must be going. It was so nice to see you again, Em, we must catch up sometime.” Carrina all but spat, gesturing for her friends to come along as if they were loyal dogs. Carrina was nothing if not persistent, and Marcus knew they hadn’t seen the last of her. She must have felt slighted that he’d chosen her own worst enemy over her, despite how little choice in the matter he actually had.

He turned briefly to watch them bustle away, then raised a gentle hand to pat Emiline’s. “I do hope you don’t let her bother you. She’s about as much trouble as a horsefly, but just like the fly a single swat will send her off.”

He had let his temper get the best of him, that much was certain. However much Carinna had deserved it, Emiline did not deserve to be a witness to it nor wrapped up in it as she had now become. Marcus peered down dumbly at her as she began, obviously very upset with him. He’d gone too far in the defense of his own pride, and he worried she’d be the one to pay the price for it. She seemed as if it was painful to speak and he listened to her rant sadly, not having meant for it to go quite so far.

“Of course everything I said was true!” He barked, trying to keep his own voice steady, “I was the one that caught them in the act!” It didn’t stop his voice from wavering a bit, the memory was still a bit painful if he was honest. When she’d stopped her pacing and turned to him, he noticed she wouldn’t meet his eye. An unpleasant pang stabbed his heart as he realized she must be so upset as to cry, otherwise why else would she not look at him? In all his twenty years he’d never made a girl cry and so had no idea how to handle it. His mouth gaped open and shut like a beached fish, but he couldn’t find the right words to fix it, assuming it could be fixed at all. And then just like that she had bade him goodbye with a small curtesy and bolted off down the path from whence they came. “Wait, Miss Percy!” He called, jogging after her a few strides before slowing to a walk the rest of the way. Marcus didn’t suppose it would help things much if he were spotted chasing a crying girl through the gardens, and so he watched her disappear around the bend with a heavier heart than he’d have expected.

Finally, nearing the house, he spotted Alister moseying toward him with a very particular glow about him, lipstick stains and all. Marcus stifled a smile at the young man’s condition, not wanting to draw attention to it or offend him. He’d done quite enough offending for one day, he reasoned. Marcus glanced off behind the young Percy as if Emiline might pop out from over his shoulder, but she did not. Instead he stood in a bit of a daze as the days strange events settled into his brain, only coming back to reality as Alister clapped him on the back good naturedly. His mood darkened a little more as he mentioned his sister only cried when she felt she’d done something wrong, and it left him feeling even more stupid than before.

“Emiline’s done nothing wrong, I’m afraid it was me who ruined things. To make a long story short, we were confronted by someone I have, ahh, history with,” he glanced at Alister knowingly, “I’m sure you understand. And, well, she was just being so nasty to your sister and myself. So I let my temper get a bit carried away with me. I fear I said some things that were far too cruel, true as they may be, and I’ve offended your sister a great deal because of it.” He paused and glanced off toward the house again, too far from it to see it’s pearly white visage through the bushes but still close enough to hear the bustle of the party. No one else seemed to have noticed Emiline’s disappearance just yet, he thought with relief.

“I suppose it’s worse that it was the daughter of Commander Carlyle,” he admitted rather sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. Marcus didn’t worry so much about his own reputation being that it was less than shining to begin with, but to think he could have ruined an innocent girl’s made him a bit sick. “I don’t suppose she will want anything to do with me after this and rightly so.” Marcus said, shrugging. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, but that he could see no way of fixing it.

Marcus flinched away from the stream of champagne as Alister nearly choked upon hearing just who it was he’d attacked. It was as bad as he thought, he decided. What little he knew of his future brother in law told him that the man wasn’t one to be overly flustered over nothing, and this was quite a bit more than nothing. Suddenly Marcus wished he had a drink as well, if only to calm his nerves a bit and to give his hands something to do besides fiddling nervously with the button on his jacket.

He didn’t interrupt as Alister spoke, recounting a rather distressing tale of Carinna’s cruelty to Emiline over the years, and it was immediately clear why she’d been so tongue tied when the little blonde had approached them. He supposed anyone would be rather shy around their childhood bully, especially when they’d been the cause of such a complete public humiliation. Marcus’ brow furrowed, beginning to feel a bit angry himself as the list of slights continued. What gave Miss Carlyle the right to treat Emiline so horribly? Unfortunately, he knew of several other girls that’d also been targets of the Carlyle girl’s ire, though none quite so severe and persistent as this.

Marcus didn’t say anything, for nothing he could come up with would be of much help, but his ears did perk up as Alister noted some of his sister’s favorite hiding spots around the property. He returned the other man’s half-smile, “It seems as if I may need to embark on a bit of a manhunt, then.” He turned and nodded toward Alister’s retreating form as he walked off down the gravel path, “Enjoy the party!”

And so he took off as nonchalantly as possible toward the large, pristine manor, to start his search there. Along the way he bumped into a few people he knew, mostly young girls, who he tried to brush off as politely as possible. “Yes, how do you do? I’m quite well, thank you. I must be going, I do beg your pardon,” it was the same script with each of them, and every girl seemed a bit crestfallen that he had no time for them. A few turned back to their friends to whisper conspiratorially, though he didn’t pay them much mind. Marcus pushed through the grand front doors, praying that no one else he knew would be waiting inside and praying even harder that none of their families should see him sneaking off in such a manner, and breathed a sigh of relief that the house was mostly deserted save for a few people who did not seem to notice him much. It was a beautiful day outside, and it seemed most of the party goers wanted to take advantage of the weather.

His heels clicked quietly as he strode down the polished hallways, paintings of dead relatives lining each wall watching him as he went. He’d not spent much time in this house before, even at previous parties on the property, and so it took a bit of searching before he came across a tall set of oak doors that looked about right for a grand art gallery. One door was cracked open just a bit and so he crept up to it to poke his head inside, rather than rushing in like a charging bull. “Emiline?” He whispered, his own voice echoing back at him from the desolate room. There seemed to be no one inside, which made sense. Marcus wouldn’t want a bunch of drinking party guests, no matter how noble their houses, inside a room full of expensive art either. Finally, he slipped inside the room to have a look just in case and was immediately glad he did, for as soon as he rounded the side of the door he spotted a familiar silhouette in a pretty blue dress, back turned to him.

“Could we please talk, Emiline?” He asked quietly, not wanting to be heard outside the room just in case anyone had spotted him entering. The last thing he needed was yet another person seeing him alone with her, lest he make things even worse.

His heart sank a bit as he noticed her eyelashes glistening with tears she hadn’t quite been able to wipe away. Her cheeks were ruddy and her eyes red, like she’d rubbed at them a few too many times. Marcus frowned, unsure how to proceed. Emotions were not his strong suit and they never had been, but he was determined to try and fix things with her. Why, exactly, he cared so much was still a bit of a mystery even to him, but as he gazed down at her small face he decided it didn’t matter at that moment. These things could be thought through later. He only needed to focus on fixing what he’d done, no matter the cost to himself. A good man always took responsibility for his actions; his father had instilled that idea into his son early in life, after catching him in a lie about taking his pony out alone when he wasn’t supposed to.

Even in her state, Emiline was as formal as ever with her small curtsy and polite words and it made him smile a bit. He wanted to tell her she didn’t have to be so ceremonial with him, but even in their short time knowing one another he knew that would be a futile request. “I’d like to apologize for how things have gone. It was wrong of me to speak to Miss Carlyle in such a way, especially with you present. I fear I’ve damaged both your reputation and our own relationship,” He paused and looked around the room, dark eyes bouncing from painting to painting. He swallowed hard, feeling a bit nervous suddenly. “Of course I will understand if you wish to have nothing to do with me, though please know this isn’t a personal rejection to you,” He made sure to add that last part quickly, lest he upset Lady Percy further by making her think this was all a plot to rid himself of her. Clasping his hands in front of himself, he continued. “If my assumption is correct that you would like to cancel our betrothal, I would like to suggest that you place all the blame on me. Tell your parents and mine that I behaved as a lunatic on our outing and that I attacked a girl without cause, I’m sure your brother Alister will corroborate the story if you just ask. That way you can back out of the deal with, hopefully, little consequence to yourself.”

He hoped she would take the offer, not because he did not like or want her, but because it was the smart thing to do for her own sake. It may not have been too late for Emiline to rectify her own situation, though for Marcus the same could not be said. He was very aware what people would think of him if she took his idea and told her parents he was mad, but frankly he didn’t care much. His own reputation at court was already less than desirable and another hit to it would be just a drop in the bucket. Perhaps he could join the army and ship off to some faraway place, he wondered, far from the dramas of court. He shook his head slightly, leaving those ideas for later. Marcus looked at her briefly again, feeling a sad pang in his chest for reasons unknown to him.

Of course it was a silly proposition, not to mention rather drastic, but still Marcus felt a bit sorry when Emily confirmed there was little they could do to get out of the arrangement. He had little desire to do so anymore of course, but still felt as if miss Percy may have reservations and rightly so. “I suppose you’re right on that account. Our betrothal is fated by powers greater than our own, by which I mean our parents.” He smiled, trying to find some humor in the situation. Regardless of the circumstance and how she seemed to be quite ensnared in a marriage she couldn’t rightly escape from, Emiline’s spirits seemed to brighten a bit as she straightened herself and extended a lacey hand once again, which Marcus gently grasped.



“It’s a pleasure, Emily,” He said, playing along, the name feeling a bit odd in his mouth. It was the first time he’d had the courage to shorten her full name. “Please, call me Marcus. I-” he stopped himself short, hearing something. Footsteps. Had they been discovered? His heart leapt into his throat and he released Emily’s hand, stepping quickly toward the door but whether he planned to slam it shut or dash out of it to try and catch the person before they discovered them he was not sure. Just before reaching the tall, polished wooden door he stopped and spun on his heel to catch Emily’s eye, as if she might suddenly know what to do to rescue them both.



“What do we do?!” He mouthed silently, hoping she might understand. The steps were light and quick, but drawing ever nearer. Marcus remembered from his short walk down the hallway that there were few doors that the intruder could be heading toward, which left only one alternative. His heart raced a bit, despite knowing that there was little more he could do to upset the day as it were, though there was some hope in him that the news of his attack on Miss Carlyle hadn’t been spread quite yet. The possibilities raced in his mind. An angry friend of Carinna who’d sniffed them out? A relative who’d caught wind that Alister was no longer accompanying them and also knew well of Emily’s favorite spots to visit? Or something worse? Marcus swallowed hard, listening and hoping that the feet would turn abruptly into another room and put his panic to rest.

He’d made to follow her when the look of fear peculiarly left her face, prompting him to turn and see what she was looking at. It was, thank god, only Alister, and he was standing in the doorway looking rather amused at the state they were in. Marcus smiled ear to ear and glanced back at Em, seeing her shoot her brother a look as he prodded at her about her choice of escape route. He nodded at Alister’s acknowledgement without thanking him verbally, lest Emily hear and scold the duo, however good-naturedly, for conspiring against her. Marcus followed his soon to be brother in law’s instruction, moseying over to Emiline to follow her out the glass doors and into the gardens beyond.



It was a lovely, sunny day, and he gladly lead her down the little path leading away from the house, glancing at the parasol cheerily bobbing on her one shoulder as they went. She quickly broke the silence, perhaps feeling a bit braver now that they’d harrowed a potentially life or death event in each other’s company, mentioning that he didn’t have to use her shortened name at all if he wished. Again, Marcus smiled. “Oh, but I do. It’s a bit formal for my liking to call you by your full name. It’s just that my mother instilled the habit early to not shorten names or alter them without explicit permission. She says it’s quite rude.” He turned his gaze from Emily’s fair face, having lingered a bit too long on her pretty side profile, and looked back down the garden path. The estate was thick with flowers and shrubbery of all sorts; he thought the family must spend a small fortune on gardeners alone, for it was so vast he couldn’t imagine the Lady of the house having time to tend to it all. As they wound even deeper into the little side gardens branching off the main area, his awe at the lushness of it all grew. Still, though, he knew their time alone may be growing short and he didn’t wish to waste it with small talk about horticulture.



“It’s been an eventful day so far, hasn’t it?” it was less a question and more a statement, “I’m not sure how I pictured it would go, but it certainly wasn’t as exciting as this. Tell me, Emily, if you don’t mind, how are you feeling about everything?” He assumed she’d been as apprehensive as he was at the beginning, but there was a bit more of an ease about her and even how she walked next to him that hadn’t existed when they first set off on their small garden adventure.



“My parents are ever so glad we’ve all come to an agreement, but I wonder if your family is similar to mine in that they’ve failed to ask just what you think of it all.” It was said cheerfully, not meant to offend, though he knew it could be taken as such. While it was a fact that they both had little say in the direction their lives were taking, he hoped she wouldn’t be too cross at him for speaking so plainly. Some people were strange about that, Marcus knew, but he knew so little about Emily that he had no way of knowing which side of the fence she fell on.