I'm back, at last. Took some time, but I've finally got the next chapter. Mostly, my reasons for not writing this earlier are because I have loads of uni work to do and I spent the summer and this Christmas writing my original fiction novel (finished at 114,000 words), but I've managed to get the chapter out now.

Thank you so much to Miri Autumn, for inspiring me to write this and everyone who reviewed. It always means a lot to me when I get feedback, so thank you all for your reviews.

A Condition

I bit my lip.

Uncle Richard was gone, his carriage had just pulled away outside and my father hadn't said two words since the door to the sitting room had closed. He stood at the window, staring out at the street as the horses clopped away down the cobblestones. I had a feeling that was the last I would be seeing of my uncle for a long time. He'd stepped over a line this time.

My father turned back to us slowly and drew himself up to his full height, then walked back to his place by my mother's side. She raised her hand to his arm and he clasped it in his fingers, softly, but firmly, like he was afraid of losing her.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that my dear," he said quietly, running his fingers over the back of her hand. Their gazes were fixed on each other so intently that I felt like Cat and I were invisible.

I glanced at Cat, beside me. Her face had gone pale and she was very still, like she was afraid even the slightest movement might set my father against her as well.

"I've heard worse, my love," smiled my mother, though I detected well-disguised pain in her eyes.

"I know," sighed my father, his chest deflating. "But I am sorry."

"My love," said my mother. "You do not have to apologise for the ignorance and misplaced haughtiness of others."

He inclined his head, although he didn't look entirely convinced. A long silence extended the length of the room, broken only by the ticking clock in the hallway. At last, my father looked up and my heartbeat quickened.

I rubbed my thumb over the back of Cat's hand.

"So," said my father. "You wish to marry Miss Royal?"

My throat was suddenly dry like scorched earth.

"Yes," I managed.

"And you, Miss Royal," he said, turning his attention to her. To her credit, she did not shrink under his gaze. "You wish to marry my son."

"Yes, sir," said Cat, bowing her head. "Lord Avon."

My father tapped the fingers of his free hand against his thigh, studying us sitting on the sofa as though we were an oil painting, and he couldn't decide whether it was a masterful piece or a complete disaster. I swallowed the lump that rose in my throat and breathed slowly. If father did not agree, I had every intention in following through on my promises to Cat. It would not be an easy adjustment, but I would make it work somehow.

"Father?" I said.

"You have seen how the world treats us," said my father, his voice weary. "Your mother and I. To our faces, they are polite, deferring…but to our backs they spew disgraceful slurs and falsehoods. Not all, I grant you, but it is by no means a minority. Were I not a Lord, they would probably not wish for any association to us. Society's judgement can be great indeed, even though whispered only in hushed conversations in the ballroom. It takes a great deal of devotion Francis, to love someone and never resent them for these things. I have seen lesser loves than your mother's and mine peter out into resentment in the face of social exclusion. Can you promise me that this will not happen between yourself and Miss Royal."

"Father," I said, getting calmly to my feet, by some reflex from oratory classes. "I love Cat more than anything. Regardless of what happens, regardless of what society thinks, I will always love her and I will never resent her." Never again.

My father nodded to himself.

"And you Miss Royal, your love for my son, is it of the same fervour?"

Cat took a deep breath and stood up next to me. I watched her face for some hint of doubt, but there was none.

"I love Frank – Francis," a brief flicker of panic crossed her face. "I love Francis with all of my heart. I love him more than anything. I love him even more than my writing and I would throw every single one of my hard-written manuscripts into the flames in an instant to save him."

My heart clenched and my stomach fluttered. I knew what those books meant to her. I knew how hard she had worked on them. To hear her say that made my heart hurt for her. She really did love me and I loved her. I wanted to pull her into a hug, but restrained myself. My father still had not agreed.

"In that case," said my father. "I have only one condition."

"What is it?" I said, impatience trembling my fingers.

"That first you must finish your education and attend university and Miss Royal, you must agree to stay with us and allow me to be your literary patron, that you might produce the great novels I believe you have inside you."

My mind wanted to protest that me and university were not compatible, but I knew from my father's stern eyes that this was not negotiable. He was testing me, but my resolve was firm. I would suffer through any number of ancient Greek lessons if it meant I could be with Cat.

"I agree to your terms," I said. "I'll study hard and go to university father, I promise," my father raised an eyebrow, but I stood taller and met his eye, so that he could understand the depth of my conviction.

"And Miss Royal?" said my father. "Do you agree to the terms?"

When she didn't reply, flutter of panic rose in my stomach. I frowned with concern, turning to face her. "Cat?"

Her eyes shone, filmy with water. My chest tightened. My father's word rung in my ears 'I have seen lesser loves than your mother's and mine peter out into resentment in the face of social exclusion'. Cat had said she forgave me, said she wanted to marry me. But maybe that wasn't enough, maybe she was afraid my words weren't enough. I had already let her down once.

I shook my head. I had no idea what she was thinking. I pushed my panic back down as best I could and reached out my hand, my fingers tingling where they brushed her upper arm.

"Cat?" I said. "Are you okay?"

"You believe I have great novels inside me?" she said quietly, gaze fixed on my father.

My father nodded, his wrinkled face warmer than it had been a moment ago, bathed in the sunlight from the window.

"Your talent is truly excellent, Miss Royal. There is not a finer writer in England who could marry my son. But you must agree to the terms."

"Yes," said Cat, voice breaking. "A thousand times yes."

"Then I have no objection to you marrying," he said.

I grinned like a maniac, and threw my arms around Cat, pulling her into a tight hug, unable to contain my happiness. She half-laughed, half-cried and I just held her to me, not caring for decorum. I breathed in her rosy scent and my smile widened until my cheek muscles protested. I parted the hair on her forehead and kissed her softly. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into so tight an embrace that I thought my ribs might crack, but I didn't care.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of my parents. My mother was grinning just like me, from ear to ear, as though all her hopes had come true and as my father stood by her side, still holding her hand, still standing tall and proper, the corner of his lip twitched upwards.

Ah, all is well. I will be doing a little wrap-up epilogue in the next chapter, but hopefully it was worth the wait. Let me know if you would like an epilogue, or if you are happy with how everything has been wrapped up :)

Thanks again for reading my story