So, it kinda goes without saying, but when I am describing Thomas' voice in this chapter, it is the way the character sounds in the film in similar situations. Warning: sensitive persons may find themselves with an overwhelming desire to play in the snow with Tom Hiddleston after reading this chapter. Don't say I didn't warn you! I am not the owner of "Crimson Peak".

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As early January came with even more snow, Edith found long walks very hard to resist, and Thomas managed to persuade himself to accompanying her on two of them within the first week after Christmas. He found himself enjoying the fresh air, and like Edith, enjoyed the opportunity to play with the snow in their garden.

One afternoon, Mr Cushing came home early from the office, accompanied by Alan, to find them out in the garden at the back of the house, engaged in a playful snowball fight. Well, Edith, stubborn as she was, was clearly determined to win, while her husband seemed content to let her, tossing off a few expertly made but soft snowballs and allowing her to almost bury him in the snow.

It seemed the englishman was not even remotely affected by the cold, the two men noted as they watched from behind the glass doors inside the house, each sipping a brandy, and it was Edith who eventually started to look cold, despite it being her husband and not her who was covered in snow.

Mr Cushing started to consider opening the doors and trying to convince his daughter to come back inside, when her husband suddenly whispered something into her ear, only to a moment later scoop her up into his arms and carry a laughing Edith towards the house.

A few minutes later, the aristocrat entered the lounge where they stood, having brushed the snow from his hair and changed the items of clothing where the snow had melted, leaving him wet, and now looked as elegant as ever.

"Mr Cushing, Doctor McMichael". "Lord Sharpe," Alan nodded in greeting, noting after a second, "Edith looked happy". The nobleman's eyes grew warm and soft at the mention of his wife. "She does. She enjoys the snow". He smiled, his voice dark and deep in a pleasant way as he continued, "though she gets quite competitive. I am lucky that it is nowhere near as cold here as my previous winters were".

Mr Cushing said nothing, but he poured another glass of brandy, handing it over to Sir Thomas, and that was probably a gesture of more acceptance than any words could be. When Edith entered the lounge overlooking the back garden they were all sitting together, speaking in a relaxed manner about inventions; Alan and her father in comfortable armchairs and her husband in the sofa, giving her plenty of space to sit with him.

A pitcher of hot cocoa stood on the table awaiting her, clearly ordered by her father, as it was just like him to worry about her taking a chill. It, and a convenient cup, was placed neatly within reach from the spot on the sofa next to Thomas, in a move of nothing short of acceptance. Could it be, that her father had finally started to approve of her husband?

As the dark started to settle, her father and husband got into a very animated conversation about building, which had them both deeply focused, hearing nothing else. Alan smiled at her, as they watched their exchange. "They seem to be getting along well. Your englishman seems more at home now. I was worried about you last year". "This has all been very hard on Thomas," Edith responded, her gaze on her husband nothing short of loving. "He has just started to come out of his shell again. It is like he has been very ill, and is only just gathering strength enough to take part in life again".

"That makes sense I guess," Alan watched the girl who was both a second sister to him as well as his best friend, taking note of her still animated eyes after the game in the garden earlier. "He seems better suited to join you in the snow than I ever was - I thought you would bury him there for a while".

Edith laughed, looking over at two of the men she loved most of all, all of her family gathered right here in this room, and nodded. "I might have been getting a bit overeager," she admitted, her eyes shining as she looked back at Alan, "but Thomas doesn't seem to have minded". "No," the opthamologist reassured her warmly, happy to see her so happy. "I think he enjoyed it almost as much as you did. The man must be physically incapable of freezing!"

"Jealous?" Edith teased him, her laughter enough to finally make the builder and the engineer stop their designing for the night and remember where they were, but they would continue the conversation at several later dates, never as cold to one another again as they had been before Mr Cushing came home to see his daughter delightedly tossing snow onto her patient husband in their back garden.