Hewlett wondered when she'd notice that he had been staring at her (albeit sparingly) for the past few minutes. He'd of course averted his gaze several times, as any gentleman would; it wouldn't do to be looking at a woman with such public adoration, although Simcoe seemed to see no wrong in groveling over Anna anywhere he stood. Hewlett liked to think he was a bit more refined than that, but his eyes always found themselves wandering over to where Anna Strong sat at the dinner table, quietly enjoying her meal while they ate in silence. The entire family was stoic; with Woodhull's return, Simcoe's off-putting presence in Setauket, and his own recent escape from imprisonment at the rebel camp, tensions were running high and the residents of White Hall weren't exactly sure what to do with one another, now that Anna had moved back in. He'd insisted on it, obviously; he couldn't have her alone and unguarded with Simcoe slinking around.
Richard hated Anna for some strange reason, and had thus apparently promised himself to only speak in hostile tones to the woman Edmund had long-considered to be one of the kindest people he'd ever met. It offended him on some level to hear Richard spew such viciousness, but they were both, technically, guests in his home-and Edmund was quickly learning that even a British major had his place.
Anna would sneak glances at Woodhull and Mary, whether it be when they were playing outside with their son or conversing in the drawing room. He noticed-oh, he noticed. She'd get this drawn look on her face, a flash of sadness in a moment he might not have seen had he not already been covertly staring at her from over a book he was "reading." It was almost an instinct to invite her out to the fresh, crisp air and overhanging stars, almost a reflex to want to lift her spirits, no matter why they were in such disrepair in the first place.
To make matters even worse, he was starting to believe that everyone in town knew of his budding affection for Anna. Richard disapproved with that look in his eyes, Mary questioned it with that purse of her lips, Abe scrutinized it with those fleeting, suspecting glances he thought Edmund didn't catch sight of, and Simcoe (the most obvious of all the people in Setauket) let his jealousy and hatred seep to the very surface of his demeanor.
And everyone, everyone, feared Simcoe and what exactly he might do with that jealousy and hatred.
So, tensions were-to say the least-elevated.
But Edmund hardly cared, not when Anna was sitting so close to him (just at his left!), her gaze cast downward, her lashes glancing the tops of her flushed cheeks just so. Ringlets of dark brown fell down to hover just above her collarbone (milky skin stretched taut there, becoming more plump the farther down his eyes travelled).
He snapped out of it, and quickly; he was a gentleman, milky skin be damned!
He sincerely hoped she hadn't noticed, especially that time.
…
It was becoming increasingly difficult-pretending not to notice that Edmund was openly staring at her. He probably thought he was being discreet, but if there was one thing she knew about the major, it was the single, unfailing fact of his inability to be anything but painfully, obviously genuine. It was one of the things she liked about him. But in the moment, with Abe and Richard and Mary just mere feet from them both, she didn't want to be reprimanded later for 'becoming, obviously, more intimate with Hewlett.' Abe still called him by his last name, which nearly sounded foreign to her now; she wondered, briefly, when they'd gotten so friendly-probably somewhere between that dreadful proposal and the way the starlight had first illuminated his face. She smiled absently, thinking of that childlike wonder.
Abruptly, she felt the tingle of his attentive gaze, over at her right; she'd never known a man to be so sheepishly persistent. She imagined that he was taking a sip of wine and seizing the chance to look at her out of the corner of his eye, where the glass would partially conceal the object of his gaze. It brought a blush to her face, knowing that he would do something exactly like that-in fact.
She swallowed a bite of chicken and set her fork gently town on her plate, the small sound of contact breaking the silence at the table; Abe glanced up and Richard glared at the table's hardwood surface. She wondered when he would stop sulking about her presence at White Hall.
Edmund's gaze abandoned her, likely because he was embarrassed, but Anna secretly wished that he would say something peculiar to ease the strain of their dinner rather than biting his cheek and turning from her.
Eventually, though, she learned to tolerate the silence at dinner, for it gave her ample opportunity to try and learn more about Edmund, to try and sneak her own glances at him and stare, surprised, at the angle of his jawbone and the curve of his neck and the way that stiff uniform hid from her the skin she knew would be soft and smooth and warm to the touch.
After that train of thought, it was her turn to avert her gaze.
So, this is my first time writing in the Turn fandom so idk if it went well or not. xD
Feedback of any kind is always appreciated.