If you be my bodyguard, I can be your long-lost pal.

[syl_thorn]

Late November, 1889
The Thornton Estate

Lord Carnarvon should be here any time now, and everyone is in a complete flurry. The servants are nattering about attending an actual Lord again, and my parents are fussing about everything, from the polish on the floor to the sear on the steak.

"Isn't it exciting?" Lizzie says as she bustles about my

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[al_shairan]

I am not quite certain that the Thorntons are a family with whom I want to have very much contact. For all they appear polite in public, there's something snivelling about the mother - and the father has an air of repressed brutality about him that puts me in mind of my own father, and so makes me inclined to dislike him.

However, they are rich, and of respectable stock; and Miss Thornton is quite clearly a better class of person altogether. And so I've travelled the fifty miles to visit for a few days. They're not stupid; a journey of that distance at this time of year can only mean one thing.

In the carriage I look at the ring. It was my grandmother's, and then my mother's, and so is a little outdated in style - opals are more fashionable now - but it's an Excolo tradition to pass on. If Sylvia hates it, I suppose we can find something else...

At the estate, Mr Thornton comes out to greet me, and I go to my room and freshen up. Caxton unpacks my clothes, and I change into something less travel worn. Then I go down to the drawing room for tea.

"Mrs Thorton, Miss Thornton, Mr Thornton," I say, bowing. "How pleasant to see you all again." Miss Thornton is dressed in a rather sombre dress. I hope that isn't a mark of her mood.

[syl_thorn]

My father, of course, gets up to greet his Lordship when he arrives, leaving mother and I in the parlour. She leans over to me after he leaves, her breath reeking of gin. "You will be polite to him, Sylvie. He's come to propose, he must have. If you insult him..."

"For God's sake, mother, I won't. Have another drink, will you?" I snort, leaning back in my chair. Her hand tightens around her glass, but she won't strike me. Not now. Can't risk bruising the merchandise, can we, mother?

Father comes back in a moment later. "He's gone upstairs to change. Come on, let's get to the drawing room." He snatches mother's glass away from her, and she pouts, but doesn't argue. Sherrard might not have any money, but the prospect of marrying into actual nobility has my parents all but pissing themselves like over-excited hounds. I sigh and get up, not bothering to wait for them.

They finally get to the drawing room just as the servants are finishing laying out the tea things, and a few minutes later Lord Carnarvon himself enters. I suppose I should be grateful that at least he's handsome. "Mrs Thorton, Miss Thornton, Mr Thornton, how pleasant to see you all again."

"Lord Carnarvon," I say, rising and dipping in a slight curtsy. "So very kind of you to come. I hope your journey was a pleasant one."

[al_shairan]

"So very kind of you to come. I hope your journey was a pleasant one."

"Fair enough, thank you, Miss Thornton." I smile at her. When her mother curtesies to me I think I smell gin on her, and I feel my nose wrinkle slightly, but I smooth my expression well enough. "Have you kept well since I saw you last in London?" I haven't seen her since August, when everyone went home after the Season, but we've exchanged a couple of letters, and her mother then wrote to invite me 'any time I might like'. I proposed this week, and thus our fate was sealed. Still, I have to discuss the matter with her father before I can actually propose. I suppose that will happen after dinner, when the ladies withdraw. Looking at Mr Thornton, I can't say I'm looking forward to a tete-a-tete with him.

[syl_thorn]

He smiles at me, but what interests me more is the brief spasm that passes over his face when mother curtsies to him. She's gotten fairly adept at concealing her drinking from visitors. If he noticed, then he's very quick.

"Have you kept well since I saw you last in London?" He asks as he settles himself.

"Quite well," I nod as the tea is poured. "I was thrown from my horse at the last hunt, but no harm done, just a few scrapes and bruises. And you?"

I do wish my father would stop watching me like the proverbial hawk. I'm hardly going to start quoting Blavatsky, even though I think Lord Carnarvon might actually find it interesting if I did.

[al_shairan]

"I'm glad to hear you weren't hurt. I hoped perhaps you might be able to join us at Excolo Abbey for our Boxing Day hunt - if your parents can spare you," I say. "Although you would both be very welcome to attend too, of course," I add, though really I'd rather they didn't.

The conversation continues rather stiltedly, Mr Thornton staring at us like a fox stares at chickens, until at last I suggest:

"Might you be able to spare a few moments to show me the garden, Miss Thornton? I was cooped up in the carriage all day, and a little walk before it gets dark might be pleasant."

[syl_thorn]

"I'm glad to hear you weren't hurt. I hoped perhaps you might be able to join us at Excolo Abbey for our Boxing Day hunt - if your parents can spare you," he says.

This time I don't have to fake a smile. "I'd be delighted. You must have a much larger hunt than we do here." There isn't much that I enjoy more than a good hunt. Not the least of which because my Mother never joins them and my father is a laughably clumsy rider.

Finally, after what seems an age of awkward politeness, Lord Carnarvon says, "Might you be able to spare a few moments to show me the garden, Miss Thornton? I was cooped up in the carriage all day, and a little walk before it gets dark might be pleasant."

"Of course, my Lord. It would be my pleasure." I say, standing up. He offers me his arm, and we both make our goodbyes to my parents and head out the door. It's chilly outside, and the servants help us both with our coats. There's really not much to see in the gardens at this time of year, but that's hardly the point, is it?

"Thank goodness," I sigh as we enter the garden. "Any longer and I think they might have shoved us in the bedroom and locked the door."

[al_shairan]

I cough, startled.

"Well," I say, when I've recovered my composure, "I suppose we all know why I've come here... But I can't say anything about that until I've spoken to your father," because I will do things right, no matter how crass her family are. "I just... thought it would be nice to talk. With no one else nearby. I don't think we've done that, except for when we rode in Hyde Park."

[syl_thorn]

I seem to have shocked him, and I resist the urge to smirk. There's a perverse feeling of accomplishment in causing so collected a man to lose his composure, if only for a moment. And I didn't even have to swear.

"I suppose we all know why I've come here... But I can't say anything about that until I've spoken to your father. I just... thought it would be nice to talk. With no one else nearby. I don't think we've done that, except for when we rode in Hyde Park."

"Oh, he'd be quite happy if you threw me over your shoulder and rode off with me, so long as the children were titled." I snort. "But it is nice to talk alone, thank you." A lot of men in this situation wouldn't bother, and I am grateful.

"I do like you, you know," I say, looking at him sidelong. "At least as much as one can say that, given how long we've known each other." He talks to me, for one, and seems to have genuine concern about my well-being and opinions. That counts for a great deal. "Things could be a great deal worse."

[al_shairan]

I smile a little. Somehow I wasn't expecting her to say that.

"I like you too," I say. "You're quite different to other ladies I've met." I wondered if that was her relatively humble background, but I think it's just... her. "It's refreshing," I add, in case she thinks that's an insult. "And worse, yes, I think so." We walk a little, and I say:

"My father and mother were in love, you know, when they married. But that only lasted, from what I hear, about six months, and then he tired of her, and I believe by the time she died he despised her. I don't altogether blame him, as she had very little sense and not much wit, but I don't think a man should despise the mother of his children..." I shake my head. "I bring it up because - I know we don't know each other very well, yet. And perhaps... Well, I know many young ladies might hope for more - romance. But I've never particularly expected that. What I do hope for, though, is to be able to respect my wife, and for her to respect me, and for us to... work together, to look after our home and the people who live in it, and to have a family. To be kind to each other, I think," I say thoughtfully. I've had a good deal of time, the past few months, to think about what I expect from marriage.

[syl_thorn]

He smiles at me. One thing I've noticed is that his real smile is quite different from his polite smile. He looks surprisingly open when he smiles for real. "I like you too. You're quite different to other ladies I've met. It's refreshing."

I chuckle. "You're not the first to say that, but you're the first to find it an asset."

"And worse, yes, I think so." He pauses as we walk down the paths. There's a robin singing in the bushes nearby, and frost shines on the grass.

"My father and mother were in love, you know, when they married. But that only lasted, from what I hear, about six months, and then he tired of her, and I believe by the time she died he despised her. I don't altogether blame him, as she had very little sense and not much wit, but I don't think a man should despise the mother of his children..." I study him as he speaks. I wasn't expecting this level of honesty from him, to be honest, but I'm glad of it. "I bring it up because - I know we don't know each other very well, yet. And perhaps... Well, I know many young ladies might hope for more - romance. But I've never particularly expected that. What I do hope for, though, is to be able to respect my wife, and for her to respect me, and for us to... work together, to look after our home and the people who live in it, and to have a family. To be kind to each other, I think."

Well, if we're going to talk so frankly, then I'd rather we had privacy. It will likely be only a matter of time before the servants are sent out to find us. "Come on," I say, taking his hand and drawing him off the path. I push some bushes aside and lead him into a hidden grotto with a stone bench, leftover from whoever owned the house before my father. Neither he nor my mother care much for the garden, so this place has remained undisturbed. It's where I come to read on days when I need to be alone.

"Sit with me." I say, settling myself on the bench and arranging my skirt. When he's settled, I take a breath. "I don't know if my parents ever cared for each other," is what I say, "but they certainly don't now, and in fact I don't remember a time when they did. They both have their own means of escape," my tone is rather bitter, "and they don't care much for the feelings of others, so long as they get what they need. I decided a very long time ago that I was not going to be that kind of person."

There's a long pause while I search for words. "I never expected romance," is what finally comes. "It was made clear to me very early what was expected of me, and that I had no real choice in the matter. And I've seen enough of my childhood acquaintances get married off to a man they swore they loved only to end up bitter and disillusioned only a few months later. It's no wonder, to me, that most fairy tales end with the wedding, and don't venture into what happens next."

The rosebush nearby has come up in plump, red rosehips, and I snap off a branch to turn between my fingers. "What I do want is respect, like you," I say quietly. "To know that my opinions are heard, my feelings are relevant." I meet his eyes. "And perhaps to have a friend. That's all."

It's far more than I expected to say, and my eyes drop back to the rosehips in my hand.

[al_shairan]

I listen thoughtfully to what Miss Thornton says. I think she and I have quite a bit in common when it comes to our parents.

After she's spoken, I think she feels - vulnerable, so I let her have a moment to collect herself.

"Any man who does not care about his wife's feelings is a brute," I say, "and I have seen enough of that to know I don't want to be one... And any man who wouldn't listen to a wife who had good sense would be a fool, and I don't want to be one of those either."

I look out over the garden. The sun's beginning to set, a watery gold light.

"In my childhood," I say, "I don't recall my parents having a single conversation. Beyond pleasantries at dinner or the like, I mean. I don't want that for myself. I'm glad we seem of like mind on this."

[syl_thorn]

I did not expect to say quite so much, and I feel a touch ashamed, like a silly girl rambling on about her feelings when no one cares to listen. But he's quiet, and waits until I glance at him to respond. "Any man who does not care about his wife's feelings is a brute, and I have seen enough of that to know I don't want to be one... And any man who wouldn't listen to a wife who had good sense would be a fool, and I don't want to be one of those either."

"You are in the minority, then," I say with a small, bitter smile. "But I'm glad to hear it."

"In my childhood, I don't recall my parents having a single conversation. Beyond pleasantries at dinner or the like, I mean. I don't want that for myself. I'm glad we seem of like mind on this."

"My parents don't even bother with the pleasantries, these days. They're behaving themselves because you're here. Generally the only time they interact now is to scream at each other, whether it's my father at my mother for drinking, or my mother at my father for chasing the serving girls." I lean back on the bench, and turn my face up to the sky. "Quite frankly, Lord Carnarvon, all that I'd come to hope for out of marriage was quiet."

I sigh, then shake my head. "I think perhaps we have a chance at giving each other what we want," is what I say, finally. "I hope that you feel the same way. I do like you. You're clever and well-spoken, and a very fine dancer." And now I smirk again, glancing at his face. "And you are quite pretty."

[al_shairan]

That bitter little smile makes me wonder what sort of man her father really is, and concerned he is worse than I thought. But I won't ask her; not until we're married, at least. She deserves that much privacy.

I'm shocked at how honest she is about her parents.

"Most people would hide such secrets," I say thoughtfully, "in case it put off a potential spouse... But I'm glad you are willing to tell me what your family are like."

"I hope that you feel the same way. I do like you. You're clever and well-spoken, and a very fine dancer. And you are quite pretty."

I laugh.

"I'm not sure I have ever been called pretty," I say. "And so I may say in turn that you are handsome, and an excellent dancer too."

Just then a servant comes up, with a message for Miss Thornton that she should return to dress for dinner.

"I suppose we should go in," I say, and offer her my arm.

[syl_thorn]

I've shocked him again, though this time I feel little in the way of triumph. "Most people would hide such secrets, in case it put off a potential spouse."

"I think we both know, Lord Carnarvon, that there's very little that would put either of us off," I smirk. "Anyway, you've already said that you like me. I am not my parents, and they've given me no reason over the years to hide their secrets." A shrug. "And anyway, you already know some of it. I saw you before; you smelled the drink on Mother's breath. And you aren't running yet." Another smirk.

"But I'm glad you are willing to tell me what your family are like."

"I'm glad you are too. I'm glad that we can talk." I say, and I am. It seems to me that being able to talk to each other will be vital.

And I also like that he's willing to laugh in front of me, and like his smile before, this is a real laugh, with real warmth to it. "I'm not sure I have ever been called pretty. And so I may say in turn that you are handsome, and an excellent dancer too."

"Why thank you, kind sir," I grin making a false curtsy as we sit, and as we're grinning at each other one of the servants shoves his way through the bushes to tell me it's time to get dressed for dinner. "I suppose we should go in," Lord Carnarvon says.

"I suppose we must," I say, taking his arm and rising. I'd rather stay in the garden all night, I think, but needs must.

I quickly head upstairs once we get inside. The dress I've chosen for tonight is brighter than my afternoon dress, and I like the gold brocade on the skirt and the wrap style of the bodice gives the illusion of a larger chest. As Lizzie is pinning up my hair, my mother enters (without knocking). "Well?" She asks before I can say anything. "Did he propose?"

"He wants to talk to father first," I sigh.

She clucks under her breath, taking a sip from her cocktail. "Well, he can't have come all this way just for a visit. Your father will get him away after dinner." She glowers at me. "You be good at dinner. None at quoting that ridiculous literature you-"

I whip my head around, and Lizzie yelps as I yank my hair out of her hands. "I know, Mother! I'll behave, just go and let me dress!"

She reddens in anger, but turns and sweeps out of the room. I settle back in my chair, glowering at my reflection. "Just put it in a bun, Lizzie." I growl. I don't have the patience for this.