MA

by itsbiz

for

2. Chapter 2

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at /works/1167211.

Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

F/M

Fandom:

Doctor Who RPF

Relationship:

Alex Kingston/Matt Smith

Character:

Alex Kingston, Matt Smith

Series:

Part 2 of torturous electricity between both of us

Stats:

Published: 2014-02-03 Completed: 2014-11-20 Chapters: 22/22

Words: 90616

but persephone remembers

by mygalfriday (BrinneyFriday)

Summary

A series of ficlets relating to my fic 'torturous electricity between both of us'

Notes

Story title from A Myth of Innocence by Louise Gluck. Chapter title from 'Hades to Persephone' by Lee Ann Schaffer.

no silly seven seeds sealed the deal

The ceremony is a small affair, only her parents in attendance. Matt has no family to speak of, only orphans he calls servants. His bride, while lovely to look at in the dress he'd ordered for her from Paris – his first gift of many, he decides, since the fashionable clothes suit her curves so very well – is somber and silent as she stands next to him.

She says I do with a voice that wobbles and a clenched jaw, as if signing her own death warrant. Matt knows his reputation is a fearsome one but he hopes eventually, she will realize his violent temper does not and shall never extend to her. She will be safe with him and want for nothing. He tells himself that in time, it will be enough for her, and leans in to brush his lips softly over his new wife's, sealing the deal before God and priest.

He waits in the carriage as she says her goodbyes to her parents, watching them hug tightly, as if they'll never see each other again. He taps his fingers against his knee restlessly, knowing he should probably be standing at her side, playing the role of the supportive husband, but he has no patience for false sentiment. He sincerely doubts her parents wish to bid him a friendly goodbye, in any case.

When she steps into the carriage with red-rimmed eyes, he says nothing. The moment she's settled across from him, hands folded primly in her lap, he gives the signal and the carriage jolts to a journey shouldn't take more than two hours, since she and her parents had agreed to meet him nearer his home than theirs for the ceremony, and Matt settles in for the relatively short trip, resting his top hat on the seat next to him.

His bride stares blankly out the window, not bothering to acknowledge him. Being a man of few words unless provoked into conversation, Matt can find nothing to say and in the thick silence that settles between them, her eyes drift shut in uneasy sleep. He takes the opportunity to study her without the risk of being caught staring. She is undeniably a beautiful woman, even with her brow furrowed in distress as she slumbers.

He knew he wanted Alexandra Kingston from the first moment he saw her. He'd been sitting in her parent's parlor, discussing their newly-made deal over tea, and she'd come in from walking in the rain, the hem of her plain dress muddied and damp curls clinging to flushed cheeks. She was considerably older than him but the fire in her eyes – absent from the young women his age he encountered – had intrigued him. He'd contemplated the curls of her wild hair for days after.

When the time came to collect his payment, her parents were unable to settle their debt, as he'd known they would be. Instead of immediately tossing them out, he'd found himself uncharacteristically giving them more time to find the money. He'd felt generous… for her sake. Even the extra time had not been enough and infatuated or not, Matt was a businessman first and foremost – he always collected what was owed him, one way or another. He'd given them an ultimatum – their home and their land, or their lovely daughter, a companion to ease the solitude of the moors. As he'd planned, Alexandra's better nature would not allow her aging parents to be homeless beggars. She had agreed to marry him instead, begrudgingly. A begrudging bride isn't quite what he'd imagined when he thought of eventually marrying, but considering the man he has become, he knows he'll never be any woman's first choice in a husband.

She's still sleeping when they arrive at the manor and Matt hesitates before reaching out a hand, gently shaking her shoulder. She opens her eyes slowly, blinking in confusion, before she glances up and sees him hovering over her. She gives a startled gasp and shrinks away from him. He jerks his hand back with a scowl and says, "We've arrived."

After her apparent aversion to his touch, he doesn't bother offering to help her from the carriage, leaving her to struggle on her own as he begins the walk toward the house. From the countryside and unused to such chivalry anyway, she isn't troubled, hopping down without assistance. He doesn't turn back to check on his darling bride, listening instead to her footsteps behind him as she traipses through dead leaves.

"You live here?"

It's the first thing she's said to him since they married, three words colored with incredulity and perhaps a little dismay. He gazes at the manor as they approach, wondering what she must see as she looks upon her new home. Large, imposing, miserable and bleak, he imagines. He hopes the presence of a woman will shed a little light on the dreary grounds, like sunlight through fog. "Yes, obviously."

She sounds a little winded as she struggles to keep up but he does not offer his arm, knowing it will only be refused. "I can't say I'm surprised. It suits you."

He flinches. "And what does that say about you, my dear? You did marry me, after all. Perhaps you should look upon the house as your fate." She says nothing but he hears her annoyed huff through her nose and smirks. The honeymoon is over already, he sighs. Though, to be honest, it never really began, had it?

The hour is late now and the house is silent when they walk through the front door, and Matt decides he'll introduce her to his heathen staff tomorrow, when they're all well rested. Alexandra glances around in obvious fascination, peering into darkened corners and doing a very poor job of feigning disinterest. "There will be plenty of time to explore in the daylight hours," he says, his voice in the silent house making her jump and look at him with startled eyes.

She recovers quickly, drawing her cloak tighter around her frame. "Are prisoners free to roam their prison?"

"No," he says tersely, resisting the urge to grind his teeth together. "But a wife is free to wander about her home as she wishes."

She tenses, looking contrite for a moment, and offers him a small nod, her lips pursed. He inclines his head, silent acceptance for a wordless apology, and directs her up the stairs, a hand hovering over the small of her back, not quite daring to touch. He leads her down a long corridor, stopping outside the third door from the end and pushing it open. Hobbs obviously prepared for their arrival

– the bed is turned down and the pillows fluffed, a fire crackles invitingly in the hearth.

"Our bedchamber," he says by way of explanation, feeling oddly nervous. It's not as if he has never shared a bed with a woman before but Alexandra Kingston is not just any woman. For some reason, he finds himself wanting to please her and give her anything she desires. In time, she'll be spoiled senseless. He silently admits that he rather likes the prospect.

Alexandra, who had been walking warily into the room, freezes at his words. Whirling on him with wide eyes, the rounded apples of her cheeks drained of color, she repeats,

"Our bedchamber?" She sounds horrified and feeling a little insulted, Matt mentally prepares himself for another verbal battle. "If you think for one moment I will ever lay with a monster like you -"

It had never occurred to him to be so presumptuous – at least not tonight. He'd expected nothing more than for her to sleep beside him but her words sting and he flexes his jaw in anger, sneering. "Is that not your new duty as my wife, dearest? It is our wedding night, after all."

She glares, that fire in her eyes he'd first noticed glowing brightly now, like burning embers. He's going to enjoy provoking her if she's going to look like that each time he does. "I married you to pay a debt and that is all. I will never care for you. how could I? You tore me away from everyone and everything I love to live with you in this hellish place. Must you force yourself on me and take my dignity and purity as well?"

His blood boils and his nostrils flare as he looks at her, standing in the middle of his bedchamber and clearly terrified he's going to violate her. She must think him nothing but an unfeeling savage, the devil himself. "As you said, wife," he snaps. "This is hell. Your purity has no place here."

Her green eyes fill up and she trembles in place, but before she can retaliate, he shuts the door in her face, using his key to lock her inside with a shaking hand. Perhaps not the best option, but the one most readily available to him in that split second of fear that without some instant space between them, he might do or say something regrettable. That damnable woman has an infuriating ability to rile him like no other. From inside the room, he hears her frustrated cry, quickly followed by a thump against the door, something heavy thrown at solid wood.

This surely shall be the marriage from hell and he doesn't know why he'd expected anything else. With a heavy sigh, Matt rests his forehead against the door and shuts his eyes, struggling to calm his temper and breathe. This is only the first night of many, he reasons. He cannot expect things to go smoothly right away, not under the circumstances. Eventually, Alexandra will grow used to living here with him and that icy exterior toward him will melt. She has no choice but to get to know him and see he isn't a monster from some fairy tale. After all, she has nowhere else to go.

After several minutes, he opens his eyes and reaches into his pocket for his key, prepared to open the door and deal calmly with his wife, when he hears the unmistakable sound of his bedroom window sliding open and the laborious shuffle of a woman with heavy skirts no doubt attempting to struggle through it.

"Jumping out of a second story window," he murmurs with a humorless smile. He feels as though he's standing outside the home of one of his clients, listening to them hurry to escape the moment he comes to call, expecting payment they don't have. A thump from down the corridor draws his attention away from the door and he turns to see Parker struggling with Alexandra's bags.

"Change of plans, boy."

Parker glances up from his task, bright-eyed and eager as ever.

Shoulders slumped, Matt runs a weary hand through his hair. "Take those to one of the guest rooms. I don't care which; just make sure it has a window. Your mistress seems overly fond of them."

Parker nods hurriedly. "yes, sir."

Sliding his key into the lock on his door, Matt turns the knob, pausing. "Oh and in fifteen minutes, send Benson to fetch her from the moors before she catches her death."

Puzzled but willing, the boy nods with another prompt, "Yes, sir."

With a parting ruffle of his dark hair, Matt slips into his empty chambers and shuts the door. The window on the other side of the room is wide open, the curtains billowing in the cold December wind. He strides across the room and peers out into the dark, shivering a little. Where the hell does she plan on going?

Those riotous blonde curls are like a beacon and he spots her easily, running off into the fog with her cloak billowing behind her. He swallows heavily; wondering why freezing to death on the

moors is preferable to a warm bed with him beside her. Slamming the window shut and yanking the curtains closed to the sight of her grand escape attempt, he turns toward the blazing fire and begins to undress for bed. It hardly matters what she wants anyway – he isn't about to let her die. She's his now, whether she likes it or not, and Matt always takes care of his things.

Already plotting how best to provoke her over breakfast and see that lovely spark again – anything is better than her careful blankness and indifference, even her anger with him – Matt climbs into bed and snuffs out the candle on his nightstand. Settling beneath the sheets and wondering if Alexandra has begun to wish she'd stayed yet, he spends his first night as a married man thinking that if this is truly hell, it is still better than being alone.

but when I ate, I could hear her howling

Chapter Summary

"I've been trying to convince my parents to visit for months. I just want everything to be perfect."

Chapter Notes

Chapter title from Persephone Lied, which you can find here:

.

As Parker hurries to answer the door, Alex nervously straightens her dress and gives the room one last cursory glance, making sure the house is tidy enough to satisfy her mother. No doubt she will be looking for any sign that all is not well in her daughter's marriage and to her, an unkempt parlour would be a sign of trouble. She fluffs the cushions on the settee for the third time, biting her lip worriedly, before she feels a strong arm slip around her waist and pull her gently away.

"The house looks fine, pet," he murmurs. "Stop fretting."

Her hands refuse to be stilled so she focuses on straightening his cravat and smoothing the lapels of his coat. "You would say that, darling. You never pay a bit of attention to tiny details like housekeeping."

"And neither did you, until you received that dratted letter from your mother." He huffs, tucking two fingers beneath her chin and tipping her face up in an effort to make her look at him. She tears her eyes away from his adam's apple and looks him in the eye, softening instantly at the fondness she finds there. "Iris and Hobbs have been scrubbing the manor from top to bottom for days.

It's clean."

"I know," she admits, leaning into him when those long fingers begin to stroke her jaw. "But I've been trying to convince my parents to visit for months. I just want everything to be perfect."

"Your mother isn't going to be inspecting the house, you know," he informs her with amusement. "She's going to be inspecting me – and fully expecting to find me lacking."

She frowns, bristling, and sees his eyes flare with warmth. Her husband may not be the typical gentleman and at times he's nothing but a cad to others but to her, he is good and kind and breathlessly passionate. Any other man would bore her. She only wishes her mother could see that despite their rocky beginning, this marriage is everything Alex could have hoped for and more. "Well you're not lacking. I love you exactly as you are – ill-mannered wretch and all."

He chuckles softly, fingers inching into her hair as he bends his head and kisses her. "Thank god for that," he whispers.

Alex grins, stretching on her tiptoes to follow his lips and allow herself just a few moments more in his arms but the sound of a throat clearing shatters the moment spectacularly. Matt drops his arms and she turns to face the doorway where Parker stands, her parents hovering behind him.

"Mother, Father," she greets, pasting on a warm smile as she moves to embrace them. They wrap her in their arms and hold on tightly, as if to comfort or protect her and while Alex allows it for a moment, she's only too eager to step back when they release her. "How was your journey?"

"Fine, dear. Just fine." her mother holds her face in her hands, examining her closely as if to look for signs of malnourishment or mistreatment of some sort. "How are you?"

Alex extricates herself with a pat to her mother's hands, taking a step back. "I'm wonderful, Mother. And I'm so glad you're here. We both are." She glances over her shoulder where Matt lurks behind her, hands behind his back and eyes wary. She smiles warmly, holding out a hand to him, and he steps forward with caution. "I know you've all met but perhaps we should start over, hm? Mother, Father, my husband Matthew."

Her mother smiles weakly and nods a terse greeting.

Matt ducks his head in deference, clearly uncomfortable. "Mr. and Mrs. Kingston. It's… nice to see you again."

She resists the urge to roll her eyes. The man can be as charming as a snake when he needs to be, but when it comes to her parents, she has never seen such grudgingly politeness in her life.

Her father, bless him, holds out a hand to Matt. "Mr. Smith. I'm glad we're meeting under friendlier circumstances. My daughter tells me you treat her well and it is all I can ask for."

Shaking his hand, Matt raises surprisingly sincere hazel eyes to her father. "I know I married your daughter under less than ideal circumstances-"

Her mother coughs delicately.

Matt sets his jaw. "But rest assured, I have never harmed her." His eyes flit to hers and Alex holds his gaze unwaveringly, her heart in her throat. "She is my most treasured possession – just as she was once yours."

Not all that long ago, being equated with a possession might have made her throw something at his head but she knows his heart now, knows that she belongs to him just as surely as he belongs to her. They are equal partners in ownership.

Swallowing, her father releases his grip on Matt's hand with a murmured, "Good."

Alex curls her hand around her husband's elbow and turns her attention to the boy still standing in the doorway, yet to be dismissed. "Could you take my parents' things to their chambers, Parker?"

Clearly relieved to be given a task, Parker nods eagerly and starts gathering up their bags. "Yes, mistress."

The moment he's gone, her mother turns to her with a frown. "Who is that boy? Don't you have any proper servants?"

Alex tightens her grip on Matt's arm, silently asking him to remain civil. "Parker is Matt's footman and he is more than adequate, Mother."

"But -"

"Matt saved him and every other staff member we have – aside from the stable hand – from a life of abuse in a workhouse. He gives them a place to stay and pays them for their work." She glances fondly at her husband, who frowns at the floor, uncomfortable with her praise. "Some of them are older now – young men who remain here because Matt treats them well and pays them handsomely, but others are just children who have nowhere else to go. He's done them a great service, Mother."

Startled into silence by an act of kindness from a man she's so predisposed to hate, her mother joins Matt in glaring at the floor and Alex decides they would get along beautifully if they would stop hating each other long enough.

With a sigh, she says, "Now then, we have an hour before dinner. Would you like to rest or -"

"Actually," her father begins, brightening. "I would like to see those horses you spoke of so fondly when you were last home – especially that beast Cerberus."

She grins widely. "Very well, then. Just let me change out of this dress -" Her mother raises an eyebrow but Alex ignores it. "And we can visit the stables."

Instead of staying to entertain her parents in her absence, Matt follows her upstairs to their bedroom but she can't say she blames him for not wanting to be alone with them just yet. There will be plenty of time for that later. For now, he stands by the window of their room and watches with dark eyes as she sheds her dress and petticoats quickly. He sees her naked every night but he still takes such delight in watching her undress. It makes her smile as she turns and presents her back to him. "Unlace me?"

His clever fingers begin to work at her corset and his warm breath stirs her hair as he speaks softly, sending a frisson of desire up her spine. "Your mother will have a fit when she sees you in trousers."

She smiles, the air returning to her lungs as her corset loosens. "Just imagine how furious she'll be when I refuse to ride sidesaddle." He snorts, stepping back as she lets her corset fall to the floor. She turns to press her mouth to his cheek in thanks, slipping from his grasp before he can hold her too tightly. Lifting her chemise over her head, she tosses it away too and smirks when he licks his lips. "And you should really make more of an effort with her – she'll be here for two weeks, you know."

He grunts in acknowledgement, his eyes still on her naked skin as she rummages through his clothes for suitable riding attire. Pulling out a loose white shirt, she slips it on over her head, smoothing the material over the tops of her thighs. "Are you deliberately trying to make it impossible for me to leave this room?" He snaps, shifting uncomfortably.

Alex hides a grin, moving to his side and pressing her frame against him, her mouth at his jaw. "Let my parents see you the way I do, darling, and I shall give you anything you desire tonight."

He growls softly, hands sneaking beneath the shirt she wears to stroke over her naked skin hungrily. "You are all I desire, pet."

"You have me already," she reminds him pointedly. "And you have my parents to thank for that."

As she moves away from him to don a pair of trousers and begin her search for riding boots, he sighs in frustration and rakes his fingers through his floppy hair. "Perhaps I could… show your mother the garden."

She beams at him over her shoulder, tugging one boot on. "I think she would love that."

"And if she decides to murder me while we're alone and bury my body amongst your flowers?" He asks dryly.

She hums thoughtfully as she pulls on the other boot. "Well, at least we won't have to purchase any for your funeral."

"You're becoming as ruthless as I am."

Straightening, Alex laughs softly. "You're a terrible influence, darling."

His grin right before he kisses her is a proud one.

for persephone's sake, my lord

Chapter Summary

Her husband is not a talkative man by nature but lately he's been even more silent and disagreeable than usual. It all started a few days ago, when he'd received that mysterious letter he's been brooding over ever since, whenever he thinks she can't see, and then quickly slipping it into his coat pocket when he notices her looking.

Chapter Notes

For Kaz because she requested it and if I do this, I get Egypt fic. I'M WAITING, KAZ. Story title from Hades by Ron Koertge.

"Are you enjoying your breakfast, darling?"

She only asks because he's glaring at it and she so likes to tease him, even after two years of marriage to the sullen man across the table from her. He grunts wordlessly in reply, a noise just distant enough in tone to let her know he hadn't heard the question so much as her voice and deduced he should respond somehow. Alex sighs and watches him through narrowed eyes, letting her tea go cold.

Her husband is not a talkative man by nature but lately he's been even more silent and disagreeable than usual. It all started a few days ago, when he'd received that mysterious letter he's been brooding over ever since, whenever he thinks she can't see, and then quickly slipping it into his coat pocket when he notices her looking. She's thought about snooping and reading the letter without his permission but she can't bring herself to break his trust in such a way. So she's been waiting, very impatiently, for him to come to her with whatever is troubling him.

The only problem is that he hasn't come to her yet.

She traces her fingertip over the rim of her teacup and watches her husband totally ignore Iris as she brings out a fresh plate of his favorite bread rolls, still warm, steaming and slathered in cream, and sets them right in front of him. He doesn't seem to notice and at Iris's troubled frown, Alex nods her thanks with a gentle smile and waits for the girl to disappear back into the kitchens. The moment she's gone, Alex taps her nails against the table and purses her lips when Matt doesn't even flinch, hand slipping into his jacket pocket to touch the letter, as if to make sure it's still there.

"You know," she says slowly, eyebrow raised, "If I were any other woman and you were any other man, I'd be worried that letter was from a mistress."

This gets his attention, hazel eyes darting up to her face with surprise and a hint of annoyance. "And if you had any sense at all, you'd know that was ridiculous."

"Of course I do," she smirks. "I don't know of another woman on earth who could put up with you." He scowls and her smile widens. "And you certainly don't have the time to slip into another woman's bed, even with your stamina, darling."

"You keep me very busy," he agrees softly, eyes gleaming, and she feels her heart lighten at the first true glimpse of her husband since that blasted letter arrived.

"Not lately," she accuses, attempting not to sound petulant. "A piece of paper occupies your interest far more easily than I now."

He looks contrite instantly; a heavy sigh on his lips as he drops his eyes. "I'm sorry, pet. I haven't meant to neglect you."

"Then why have you?"

He shifts uncomfortably under her gaze. "I received a letter that reminded me of my past and I haven't been able to stop dwelling on it – on things long buried." He lifts his eyes again, mouth twisted in a wry smile as she reaches a hand across the table and covers his with her own. "But no more. I promise."

"Oh?" She looks down at their hands as he turns his over and laces their fingers together; smiling at the way his hand dwarfs hers. "And why is that?"

"Because I've just remembered none of it matters anymore." He brings their joined hands to his mouth and kisses her knuckles reverently. "Not when I have you."

"Done brooding then?" She lifts an eyebrow, grinning.

He frowns, lips lingering over her knuckles. "I don't brood."

She snorts. "Darling, you invented it."

"Is that so?" He raises a thin brow and smirks. "I was going to take the afternoon away from my office and spend my time making the last few days up to you, but I suppose you'd rather not be in my brooding presence?"

She sniffs, secretly thrilled to entice him away from his work, if only for a short while. "I said you are the founding father of brooding – I never said I didn't like it."

Matt chuckles, low and soft, and she feels heat trickle up her spine. It has been far too many days since her husband has touched her as he ought. "Good. I plan to brood over every inch of you after breakfast."

Pushing her tea aside, she lifts a playful eyebrow and watches his eyes sparkle. "It's after breakfast."

Dark gaze sliding over her and that letter clearly long forgotten, Matt captures her hand again and brushes his mouth softly over the inside of her wrist. His tongue flicks against her pulse point and she shudders, humming her approval. She's mere seconds from dragging him from the dining room and up to their chambers by the collar of his pressed shirt but the sound of someone knocking at the door stops her in her tracks. Her heart sinks in disappointment. The only people to ever visit here – besides her parents just once – are Matt's clients. He'll be preoccupied this morning after all, and with one of his clientele in the house, he'll surely send her away out of sight. He still hates for any of the people he deals with to so much as lay eyes on her and after what happened last time, Alex doesn't complain.

Matt sighs as they both listen to the sound of hurried footsteps running to answer the door, raking long fingers through his floppy hair. "Who the devil calls on me at breakfast? Are they suicidal?"

"Darling," she chides, pushing aside her disappointment. He'll make it up to her eventually – Matt is always very generous after a row, however small. "What have I told you about treating your clients like people instead of cattle?"

He harrumphs and grumbles about her rubbish advice under his breath, sitting back heavily in his seat and finally releasing her hand. Alex smoothes a hand over her corset and clears her throat, hoping she doesn't look too flushed for their visitor. Just in case, she picks up her teacup and lets

the steam caress her face as an excuse. It only takes another moment or so before Parker wanders into the dining room, cap wadded into a ball in his hands as he bounces anxiously on his heels.

Turning her attention to him while Matt continues to glare at his untouched breakfast, Alex notices the young woman standing behind him instantly – a tall, thin, strikingly beautiful brunette "Parker?"

The boy clears his throat and risks a nervous glance at Matt, who still isn't paying him any mind. "Miss Laura Smith, Mistress."

"Smith?" Alex puts down her teacup before she drops it. "Your relation, darling?"

Matt doesn't answer, eyes tightly shut and jaw clenched.

Stepping out from behind Parker, Laura offers a tentative smile and a wave. "I'm his sister."

Gasping in surprise and coughing a little, Alex blinks away the sting of tears and gapes at her husband. "You have a sister?"

"No." Matt opens his eyes but does not look up, picking at his cold breakfast and ignoring Laura entirely. "Not for a very long time."

Laura looks pained by his words, brow pinched together and lips pursed. "Matty -"

The pet name catches Alex off guard and she can only stare right along with Parker at the family drama unfolding in front of her. Matt had told her one night not long after they first consummated their marriage that he'd grown up in a workhouse after he lost his parents but never once had he mentioned a sister.

"I told you that you were not welcome here," he says through gritted teeth. His jaw flexes and he looks like he might either have a tantrum or be ill any moment.

Laura huffs. "You never answered my letter!"

"And I assumed you would get the hint," he snaps. "You're not welcome."

"Matthew!" Alex scolds, appalled. "You cannot speak to your sister that way. Honestly, where are your manners?" Turning watery, grateful eyes to her, Laura says nothing but studies her with strange intensity. Alex glances away and nods at Parker. "Take her things upstairs to a guest room, Parker -"

Matt slams a fist against the dining room table, rattling the plates and teacups, and despite herself, Alex can't help but jump like a frightened rabbit. At the sound of her startled gasp, Matt softens instantly, lifting apologetic hazel eyes to her face. "Pet…" He trails off, sounding choked. "Alex. Please."

She holds his gaze for a long moment and realizes that for whatever reason, he cannot even be in the same room with this woman. No matter who Laura is and how impolite it may be to turn her away, her first priority is Matt, who rarely asks for anything and is practically begging her now.

For him, she'll turn his sister out of the house without a hint of remorse if he'll just stop looking at her like that. "All right, darling," she says softly. "I'll send her away if you like but she's made quite the journey to be here, I imagine. Perhaps she should rest upstairs first before she leaves again – you won't even have to see her."

He drops his eyes back to his plate and slowly unclenches his fist. "Fine," he mutters with a grudging nod.

Breathing out a quiet sigh of relief, Alex nods once at Parker and manages a thin smile for Laura, who looks stricken. "Parker will show you to a room upstairs, dear. Just follow him."

The moment they're gone, Alex whirls on her husband. "Well?"

"Well what?" Matt refuses to meet her gaze, his whole lanky frame taut with tension.

She sighs, standing fluidly and rounding the table. He tenses for only a moment when she presses a hand to his shoulder but the moment she feels him relax again, she squeezes gently. "You have a sister."

He grunts, shrugging beneath her hand.

Alex strokes her fingers through his hair and promises herself that no matter what happens, this will not be an argument where she chucks something at his head. She will hold her temper and not allow him to provoke her – not this time. "Why didn't you tell me, darling?"

Leaning into her touch, he doesn't answer for a long moment but she doesn't push him, waiting patiently. "I haven't seen her in a very long time – didn't even know if she was still alive."

"You were estranged, then," she surmises quietly, gentle fingers stroking the back of his neck now. "Did you quarrel?"

"Something like that," he murmurs, hanging his head.

"Darling -"

"I wasn't always like this, pet." He sighs. "I was… weak."

"Weak?"

"Soft. Kind. Not a violent bone in my body." He smirks hollowly. "You would have found me quite dull."

Alex pauses, caught off guard by the idea of Matt being anything other than what he is. Of course, she'd known he wasn't born a taciturn babe and grown into a surly young man but hearing him say it conjures all sorts of strange visuals. Every time she pictures him a tiny little boy in a cruel workhouse, she longs to cradle him to her bosom and never let go. "I believe I would love you whether you were a brute or a poet, darling." She bends her head, pressing a soft kiss to his crown and inhaling the scent of his hair, sweet and tart like pomegranates. "But what happened? Why did you change?"

"Because people take advantage of good, honest men," he says simply. "And Laura needed me to take care of her."

"You were a good brother," she observes quietly. "And you're still a good man, whether you believe it or not."

He laughs, a wooden sound of disbelief, and catches her hand, turning his head to kiss her palm. "You're the only one to think so, pet. Even Laura lost her faith in me."

"Apparently not," she points out. "She's here, isn't she?"

"Not for long." Matt drops her hand and rises to his feet, stepping away from her. "I want her out of the house before dinner."

"Darling, be reasonable -"

"Alex," he says sternly. "I won't have her here. She left me – like I was some sort of monster -"

"You're not a monster," she snaps, eyes flashing. "And if she says anything of the kind, I will be the first to turn her out of the house and hope the fog eats her alive." His eyes darken, the way they always do when he sees his influence in her. Alex smoothes her fingers over his cravat and sighs. "But I think you should try to reconcile with your sister."

Matt clenches his jaw stubbornly. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't need her," he snaps, nostrils flaring. "She was the only family I had and she left me. Now I have you, infuriating harlot you may be, and a hundred ragamuffin orphans – she isn't my family anymore."

Alex bites back a smile – it's the closest he has ever come to calling the children his family and she knows he would scowl and recant the whole thing if she points it out now. Instead, she frames his dear face in her hands and brushes her lips softly over his, allowing him to draw her in and hold her close. "You held onto her letter and barely spoke to me for days, darling. Clearly, its arrival affected you." He frowns and she kisses him again, wondering if perhaps she should try doing this more often rather than getting angry and throwing things, until she remembers how beautifully they always make up. "Perhaps you owe yourself the chance to start over."

He shakes his head. "It's just not possible, pet. It was too long ago -"

"Exactly." She smiles. "It was a long time ago. Perhaps she's changed. She could have come to apologize and ask for a fresh start."

"Even if she has changed, I have too." He slips from her grasp and paces away from her. "I've turned out exactly as she said I would."

Trailing after him as he strides from the room and in the direction of his study, Alex hurries to keep up. "I think you're making a mistake if you let her leave without at least speaking to her."

"I'll keep that in mind, pet," he says dryly, and she huffs, wishing desperately for something to throw at him. "Now I have business to conduct -"

"I thought you were taking the afternoon off?"

He whirls on her in the doorway to his study, eyes dark and amused. "You want me to take you upstairs and undress you with my sister just down the hall? What an exhibitionist you are, Alex."

"Oh, I hate you very much," she seethes, leaning into him.

His arm encircles her waist and he hums softly, mouth brushing her ear. "You can show me just how much later. I'm all yours tonight."

"You're mine every night," she counters, reveling in his soft laughter.

"And every day," he agrees. "Now get out of my sight, you distracting harridan."

She slips from his arms with a smile but stops him from shutting the door to his study. "Think about what I've said? Please?" She bites her lip hopefully. "Wouldn't you like to have your sister here for Christmas dinner and have someone on your side when my parents come to stay? Don't you want her to be a part of your life again? This is your chance, darling."

Matt eyes her grimly, unconvinced. "Make sure she rests. She has a long journey ahead of her tonight."

He shuts the door in her face and she rolls her eyes, stalking off with a muttered promise to return later with a book to throw – a heavy one.

It doesn't take her long to find the room Parker had led Laura to, since he's still standing sentry outside the door. "Just in case the Master's sister needs anything," he explains in a conspiratorial whisper.

Ruffling his dark hair, Alex whispers back her thanks and dismisses him. "Keep your master company for me, will you? Keep him in good spirits."

Eager as always to be of service – especially when it means spending time with Matt – Parker tips his cap at her and scurries off down the corridor. She knocks on Laura's door only once before slipping inside, but the young woman doesn't look up, perched on the edge of her bed and staring down at her hands folded in her lap.

"Are you quite alright, dear? Would you like me to have one of the girls fetch you a cuppa?"

"No, thank you. For the offer and for the room." Laura sighs, studying her fingers intently. "I was foolish to come here; I see that now."

"You've got to give him time, dear." Alex leans against the bedpost and watches her with sympathy. "You caught him off guard with your visit and if there's anything my husband doesn't like, it's being taken by surprise."

Laura snort softly. "Time? He's given me until dinner – hardly enough time to change his mind when he won't even see me." She inclines her head suddenly toward the door. "Is he yours?"

"Who?"

"The boy."

Alex frowns. "Of course not. Matt and I haven't been married nearly long enough to have a child

as old as Parker."

Startled, Laura shakes her head, brown eyes wide. "Oh, forgive me – I meant I thought he might have been your child from a previous marriage."

Lifting her chin, Alex purses her lips and pushes away from the bedpost, standing a little straighter. "My marriage to your brother is my first."

Laura flushes up to her ears, remarkably like her brother in that aspect. "I'm sorry," she says, wincing. "You are older than I imagined when I heard my brother had married and I assumed – I'm sorry."

Softening and filled with pity for this unsure young woman – once a little girl clinging to her brother for comfort – Alex sighs and crosses the remaining distance between them to settle onto the edge of the bed. "I can't have children," she explains, attempting not to sound pained by the confession. It still bothers her at times. Even with Matt's orphans always around, she still finds herself wondering what a child of his might be like – what he would be like with a child of his own. She shakes her head to dislodge the images her mind conjures, mustering a small smile for Laura. "As you can imagine, it made finding a suitable match difficult. I'd resigned myself to my status as an old maid until Matt. He didn't care about having children – only me."

"He must love you very much," Laura observes, looking puzzled.

Smiling softly, Alex nods. The ways Matt shows her that he loves her – refusing to let his clients near her, buying her a knife and insisting she carry it with her when she wanders the manor grounds, never retaliating when she throws things at him – may be a little unconventional but she wouldn't have it any other way.

Laura laughs quietly. "I can't imagine my brother courting anybody."

"Well, he didn't exactly court me." Alex sighs, biting her lip and wondering if perhaps she should refrain from saying anything at all – she's only too aware of what this information will sound like to an outsider – but Laura is already looking at her curiously and she forges ahead. "I married him to settle a debt my parents could not repay. He gave us a choice – I would marry him or we would lose our home and our land."

Horrified, Laura stares at her in dismay. "My god. He truly is as terrible as everyone says."

"No, he isn't." Alex clenches her fists in her lap and shakes her head, wishing everyone could know Matt's heart the way she does. "He's – alright, yes, he's angry and formidable and quite violent when he needs to be but he's also a good man."

Laura scoffs. "That's quite a contradiction. How can he be both?"

Shrugging, Alex smiles. "He's good to those he loves and who love him in turn."

"And you love him? The man who forced you into marriage?"

"He didn't force me," Alex frowns. "I chose to marry him. And yes, I do – more than anything." She sighs, running a hand through her curls and belatedly realizing her hair is down as Matt prefers and hardly fit for polite company. She pushes her hair from her shoulders and tucks it behind her ears, hoping she looks respectable enough for a near stranger. "It was… difficult at first but eventually, I came to see him for what he was."

"And what was that?"

"A bitter, lonely young man who needed companionship and love. He'd been alone for quite some time before he found me."

Laura glances away guiltily, wringing her hands in her lap.

Placing a soothing hand on her knee, Alex asks, "What happened between the two of you?"

"He hasn't told you?"

"Only that you left him."

Laura flinches, closing her eyes. "Yes, I did. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time but I've doubted myself many times over the years. It was my fault, I suppose. After we lost our parents, Matt took it upon himself to take care of me. I'm his big sister. I should have been looking after him. But he was always there when I needed him. We took care of each other in that horrible

place." She sniffles, eyes watering, and reaches into the sleeve of her gown for a handkerchief. "We left as soon as we could and Matt – he was always working somewhere, anywhere that would take him. He had apprenticeships with blacksmiths and tailors but nothing ever lasted." She smiles softly, her eyes far away and reminiscent. "He was always so clumsy."

Enjoying the thought of Matt as an assistant to a tailor and always pricking himself with the needle, Alex smiles right along with her and resolves to ask her husband about it later. She'd like to hear about his teenage exploits and perhaps, if she plies him with enough brandy, he'll tell her.

"And then one day I got myself into a bit of trouble." Laura glances at her, biting her lip uncertainly. "I… I was young and I had no skills. I did things for money I'm not proud of. I was in debt and owed quite a few people quite a lot of money. And Matt, he promised to pay all of my debts for me, except he didn't have a job at the time and he was running out of reputable places that would hire him."

"So he found somewhere disreputable," Alex guesses, her chest aching when Laura nods. Her husband's first foray into a life of crime had been for the good of his sister.

Wiping her nose delicately with her handkerchief, Laura sniffs and squares her shoulders. "When he did as asked of him, the man refused to pay him. I suppose he thought they could take advantage of a teenage boy with no family to speak of but he underestimated just how determined my brother could be when it came to me. I think he grew tired of always being the downtrodden orphan."

Alex squeezes the girl's hand, heart in her throat. "What happened, Laura?"

"He beat the man nearly senseless with his own walking stick." Laura swallows thickly, eyes filling up again. "And then he took the money he was owed right from the man's pocket. Of course, I didn't find out what he'd done until he came home to wash the blood from his hands and I -" Laura pauses, shaking her head. "I panicked. I was so horrified that he would stoop to such violence and I said terrible things to him. I was… I was afraid of him, to be honest. So I left."

"After what he did for you?" It's impossible to keep the disgust out of her voice but Alex can't bring herself to care, too affected by the idea of Matt resorting to a life of crime to save his sister, only to be abandoned by her. She wants to leave the room right now, wants to run downstairs to his study and throw herself into his arms. She curls her hands into the blanket beneath her to keep from doing just that. "You just left him?"

"I'm not proud of it," Laura says in a voice that wobbles. "I was young and frightened. But since then, I've heard things about him – he's grown worse as he's grown older. He's a cruel man, a

tyrant -"

"He isn't," Alex snaps. "He did what he's always done, the only thing he's ever known how to do

– survive."

Laura ducks her head and places her handkerchief over her trembling mouth. "I'm sorry."

"It isn't me who deserves the apology," she says gently, already softening toward the girl again. It must be a shared Smith family trait – she can never stay angry with them for long.

Smiling weakly, Laura drops the handkerchief and Alex notices suddenly that she has exactly the same cheekbones and the same mouth shape as her brother. "You're the reason I decided to write to him, you know. I heard that he'd married and I thought perhaps it meant he'd changed."

"He doesn't have to change," Alex says patiently. "I love him as he is and so should you. If you can manage that, you're welcome to stay for dinner and if not, then it was lovely to meet you, dear, but please don't trouble my husband again."

If anything, Laura's smile only grows. "He's very lucky to have you. He needs someone on his side – the way I couldn't be."

Unsure of just how to respond to that, Alex only pats her hand and rises to her feet, intending to leave the girl to her thoughts for a while and hope for the best, but the moment she reaches the door, she turns suddenly and says, "Parker is an orphan from a workhouse in town. Matt took him in and gave him a place to stay. In fact, nearly every staff member in our employ used to live in a workhouse at one time or another. Once Matt took Parker in, others started to show up and he didn't have the heart to turn them away. He gives them a job and money and a roof over their heads – he says it was more than he ever had growing up." Laura stares at her with wide, wet eyes. "I'm very lucky to have him too, Miss Smith."

Alex spends the remainder of the day out of the house, helping Benson in the stables and spending time with the horses. She takes Cerberus for a ride on the moors, the knife Matt had given her tucked away into her riding boot and Benson on another horse right behind her. She tends to her garden and frets, waiting for the moment she'll see Laura walk out of the house with her bag and ask for a ride into town. She never does and eventually, the time for dinner grows near.

Heading into the manor and up the stairs to change out of her dirty trousers and shirt and back into a corset and gown, Alex meets her husband on the stairs and loops her arm through his, leading him toward their chambers with her. "Did you manage to get any work done, darling?"

He nods, looking pensive as he strokes his thumb absently over the crook of her elbow. "A bit. I'll have to go into town tomorrow to collect payment."

"Need any company?"

He scowls. "Absolutely not."

She huffs. "Are you at least taking Benson?"

"Yes, yes. I hardly need looking after but if it'll keep you quiet."

She leans in and kisses his cheek, satisfied.

"And how was your day, pet?"

"Quiet. I took Cerberus for a ride after it stopped raining."

He frowns. "Did you take Benson?"

Alex smirks and tosses her curls mockingly. "Yes, yes. I hardly need looking after but it keeps you quiet."

Opening the door to their chambers, Matt glowers. "Very funny."

Sweeping past him into their room, she waits until he shuts the door and starts stripping out of her muddy clothes. Instead of changing his coat and cravat before dinner, Matt lounges against the wall and watches her with dark eyes. It's been days since he's touched her and now that the

business with his sister has come to a head, she imagines he's having a difficult time keeping his hands to himself. She takes her time finding something to wear, wandering about the room without a stitch of clothing on and enjoying his interested gaze.

"I invited Laura to dinner," she says, glancing over her shoulder as she pulls out a clean shift. "So please be on your best behavior."

Matt stands up straighter, eyes narrowed. "I said I wanted her out of the house by dinner, not at the table."

"Yes, and with all due respect, darling, I ignored you." She pulls the shift over her head and smoothes it out, reaching for a corset. "You need to at least speak to her."

"No, I really don't." Matt strides up behind her and begins to tug on her corset, lacing it tightly. Alex wraps her hands around the bedpost for balance and sucks in a breath, grimacing.

"She's sorry, Matt." He tugs on the laces roughly and she gasps through her teeth. "She wants to reconcile."

Matt grunts a reply, long, nimble fingers working to tie the ribbons of her corset with fierce, jerky movements. Slowly robbed of breath, Alex clings to the bedpost and shuts her eyes, for a moment not thinking about anything at all but those hands at her back, tugging forcefully. The more she can't breathe, the more her stomach floods with heat. Face flushed, she inhales raggedly and exhales on a whimper.

Behind her, Matt freezes for a brief moment and she shuts her eyes, waiting. Slowly, he finishes tying off her corset at the bottom and trails his fingertips up her spine through layered fabric and whalebone. Mouth brushing across the back of her neck, he slides a hand over her hip, his fingertips hot even through the silk of her shift. "I would have you right now," he says softly, warm breath against her skin making her shudder. "If I knew you could keep quiet."

Reaching behind her to grasp his hand and keep it in place on her thigh, Alex tilts her head back and looks at him with a wry grin. "I could try."

"And fail miserably, my dear." His kiss is quick and light before he steps away from her, as if he doesn't trust himself to do anything else without throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her to bed. He looks a little flushed and out of sorts, though, so Alex counts it as a win. "I'll have dinner with her and then I expect her to leave."

Beaming, she turns from him to select a dress from her wardrobe. "That's all I ask, darling."

"The only reason I'm agreeing is because you asked, pet."

She smiles softly, pausing in her rummage through her wardrobe to turn and look at him, finding him frowning at his assortment of cravats. "I know. Thank you." She picks out the dress he'd bought for her when she first arrived here, a green gown he'd claimed matched her eyes. Stepping into it, she waits for Matt to finish tying his new cravat before turning her back to him and letting him do up the buttons. "I have a good feeling about this."

He hums noncommittally, quick fingers working at her dress.

"You'll see," she says, smiling to herself. "It'll be a lovely dinner."

Dinner is a quiet, tense, and slightly awkward affair.

Alex struggles to make light-hearted conversation but Matt refuses to take his eyes from his plate and Laura is too busy stealing glimpses of her brother out of the corner of her eye to truly engage Alex in any sort of tête-à-tête. She forges ahead anyway, uncomfortable with the tension. "Laura, why don't you tell us what you've done while the two of you have been apart?" She smiles and prods gently, "Any suitors? There must be – look at you!"

Laura grins widely, her lovely features suddenly more animated than Alex has yet seen them. "Actually, I'm betrothed to a wonderful man called James. We're to wed this summer."

"Is that why you're here?" The sudden sound of Matt's voice makes both women jump, turning to stare at him. He glances up from his plate and eyes his sister with contempt. "You need money?"

Alex lays a quelling hand on his knee beneath the table.

Laura glares at him, cheeks flushed with agitation. "I don't want your filthy money – I know

exactly how you've earned it. And James has more than enough to pay for our wedding."

"Really? Well, that's reassuring." His smile is cold and Alex's heart climbs into her throat as she squeezes his knee in warning. "Where did the two of you meet? In a broth -"

"Matthew," she hisses.

He stops abruptly; either at her reprimand or the stricken expression on his sister's face. His eyes flicker and he looks almost apologetic, mouth a grim line as he clears his throat and offers his sister his full attention. "That was uncalled for," he admits stiffly.

"You're trying to push me away," Laura says primly, eyeing him with reproach. "You want me to leave while it's still your decision if I go and I understand that."

Matt blinks at her, silent.

"But you should stop acting like such a horrible brute for my sake because I know exactly what a soft spot you have, looking after the children you employ – the ones who were just like us, once upon a time. Or they would be, if we'd had somewhere else to go – the safe haven that you've given them." Laura smiles widely and Alex can't help but stare, wondering if Matt would look so dazzling if he bothered to smile like that. "You're still my Matty underneath that scowl, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not," he snaps, frowning, but Laura continues to smile at him. "Your brother grew up, Laura, and became exactly what you feared he would."

"You grew into a kind man," she counters. "At least around those who have earned your love. Your wife showed me that."

Matt glances at Alex and she flushes, shrugging lightly. "Will you never learn to mind your own business?"

"You are my business, darling."

He sighs and gulps at his wine.

Laura clears her throat, drawing their attention back to her. "I would like to try earning your kindness, Matty, if you'd let me." She smiles tearfully, watching Matt with all the protective tenderness of an older sister. "I want my brother to love me again."

Breathing out quietly through his nose, Matt sets down his goblet of wine hard enough to send the liquid inside spilling over the top and snaps, "I never stopped, you stupid girl."

Laura bursts into tears.

Instantly alarmed, Matt turns wide eyes on Alex and gives her a pleading look, as if asking her to make it stop right this instant. Rolling her eyes, Alex summons a handkerchief from her bosom and offers it to his sister, making soothing shushing noises while the girl sniffles and dabs at her face. "I'm sorry," she says, voice catching. "I just – I've missed you so much."

Shifting uncomfortable, Matt nods once.

"It's mutual," Alex translates, smirking.

He offers her a withering look she returns with a wink.

Laura wipes at her eyes delicately with the corner of her handkerchief. "You'll have to come to the wedding now, of course." She beams. "Both of you. Oh, I have a sister-in-law now. I've always wanted a sister, you know."

Alex smiles and reaches across the table to take the girl's hand.

"I don't do weddings," Matt mumbles into his wine goblet. "Except my own."

"Ignore him, we'll be there," Alex says pointedly, nudging him under the table with her foot. "Do you need help planning?"

Letting out an adorably delighted squeal, Laura nearly bounces in her seat and Alex decides

they'll get along just fine. "Are you the one taking care of those gorgeous flowers outside? I simply must have a bouquet and I was thinking perhaps you could come with me to -"

"Don't you dare take my wife away to plan your bloody nuptials, Lor," Matt frowns at her. "Or I will actually make good on my threat to toss you out."

Without a word, Laura leans across the distance between them and kisses his cheek. Matt scowls but his mouth twitches and Alex watches him with a grin, knowing how happy he is to have his sister back even if he refuses to show it outwardly. With a gasp, Laura stands from her seat abruptly and they stare up at her in surprise. "I must write to James this instant. He'll want to know everything and oh, I can't wait to tell him. I wish I could see his face when he reads who we're to add on our guest list." She smiles so widely Alex's cheeks ache in sympathy, darting down once more to press a kiss to her brother's cheek before excusing herself in a flurry of skirts and shining chestnut hair.

The moment she's gone, Matt collapses back into his seat as if the encounter has physically drained him. Alex watches him like the cat that ate the canary, waiting smugly for him to look at her before she says, "I told you so."

He eyes her balefully. "Do shut up, pet."

"On the contrary, darling." She grins loftily, rising from her chair and lifting him from his by the collar of his dinner jacket. He sways into her instantly, big hands settling on her hips and those dark, dark eyes boring into hers with all the love and tenderness she has earned by simply staying. "You're going to take me to bed and I have no intention of being quiet."

He kisses her hard and she knows he doesn't mind at all. She only hopes Laura doesn't either.

she has never seen the meadow without daisies

Chapter Summary

"Oh stop it," she says, frowning. "You want to see your sister get married more than I do and your sullen act is not fooling me for a moment." She fusses briefly over the flower in his lapel he'd balked at wearing. "Now go find her before the music starts – she can hardly walk down the aisle without you."

Chapter Notes

Story title from Persephone the Wanderer by Louise Gluck

"Oh, darling, look." Alex curls her fingers around his bicep and grins, pointing with her other hand to the front of the church as her husband guides her down the aisle. "They must be James' parents. Doesn't he look exactly like this father?"

He grunts his agreement without actually looking, far too intent on avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room as he ushers her toward their seats. "I still don't see why our presence is required here."

Alex sighs and allows herself to lean into the touch of his hand at the small of her back. It had taken a considerable amount of her willpower – and all of her womanly wiles – to get Matt to agree to attend his own sister's wedding. He dislikes being around most people and large groups in particular, though she can't say she blames him. Most of them openly gawk but she forces a bright smile and offers a polite wave in return – they always glance away looking abashed. "Because it will make your sister happy and we don't want to miss her wedding day," she reiterates for the tenth time since they left the manor four days ago to make the journey.

"You don't want to miss it. I would be perfectly content reading all about it in a letter," he grumbles, helping her to sit in a pew near the front of the church.

"Oh stop it," she says, frowning. "You want to see your sister get married more than I do and your sullen act is not fooling me for a moment." She fusses briefly over the flower in his lapel he'd balked at wearing. "Now go find her before the music starts – she can hardly walk down the aisle without you."

Muttering something under his breath to the equivalent of just as well then, Matt leaves her side reluctantly and starts off back down the aisle to search out the bride. The sound of the organ fills the church just as he strides out of sight and Alex glances to the front of the room to find James standing at the altar, bouncing anxiously on his heels, hands behind his back and a nervous grin on his handsome face. Tucked into his lapel is a bright, perfect daisy, cultivated from Alex's garden. Laura had insisted both of their boys have them.

Settling as comfortably as she can into the stiff-backed pew – she hasn't stepped foot in a church since she married Matt and she can't say she misses the tedious Sunday sermons and crowded wooden pews – Alex smoothes a hand over her gown and resists the urge to fiddle with her tightly pinned updo. It feels strange to have her hair off her shoulders now that she's so accustomed to keeping it down around the manor. She can't help but suspect part of the reason for Matt's ill temper this morning is because he so hates seeing her hair up.

She fiddles with her gloves instead, tugging at them pointlessly and attempting not to look around too much. She doesn't know anyone here but the bride, groom and her husband and she can feel curious eyes on her as everyone here tries to figure out what her relation to the bride must be.

The organ music swells and reaches its crescendo as the church doors open and Alex stands with the rest of the crowd, turning to look as Laura appears, her arm linked through her brother's. Dressed in a white muslin gown and a white silk shawl, a bouquet of daisies clutched in her hand, she looks absolutely radiant. Her gaze rests solely on James and when Alex glances from her to the groom, she finds James flushed and grinning, the perfect picture of a man in love.

Eyes stinging, she wishes desperately for a handkerchief and tries not to cry as Matt begins escorting his sister down the aisle. The whispers begin almost immediately, and not all of them about the bride. Standing tall and imposing in his fine suit and hat, Matt looks as devilishly handsome and intimidating as ever to anyone else but Alex can see unease in the set of his jaw and the tightness around his eyes, along with that soft look he can't ever manage to hide whenever his sister is near.

Behind her, Alex hears hushed voices as the pair passes by on their way to the altar. "Do you know who that is?"

"Who doesn't? Lord, but he's terrifying. Why in heaven's name is the orphan girl allowing that beast to give her away? Does he own her too?"

"Actually, I heard he's her long lost brother. Imagine, dear sweet James is moments from being related to the wickedest, most merciless bloodsucker in possibly the whole of England -"

"Oh, Gladys, don't exaggerate -"

"I'm not." She sniffs. "Did you know he not only kidnaps orphans but women too? That's how he got his wife, though I hear now she's just as bad as he is. He corrupted her, you see. And now look at him, tainting the whole ceremony." She tuts. "Shameful."

Hands clenched tightly around the back of the pew in front of her and face flushed with anger, Alex struggles not to turn around and tell them exactly what she thinks of them, gritting her teeth. She will not ruin Laura's wedding by strangling the loathsome, horrible people behind her. She breathes in deeply through her nose, biting her tongue hard enough to draw blood, and forces her gaze to the front of the church, where Matt stiffly gives away his sister to James.

Arm linked through her fiancé's, Laura turns and presses a swift, grateful cheek to her brother's, smiling happily. Behind Alex, the women tsk disapprovingly. Matt slips from his sister's grasp to walk down the aisle and join Alex. She allows herself a vindictive smile as he settles in next to her and takes her hand – the horror of the women behind her is practically palpable. Unable to resist another second, she turns and glances over her shoulder at them. "Hello," she says with a smile, watching them all stiffen. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Mrs. Merciless Bloodsucker."

As one, the group of women in the pew behind her pale, looking absolutely mortified.

Snorting under his breath, Matt tugs at her wrist and murmurs with amusement, "Down, pet."

His fingertips rest lightly against the inside of her wrist. Alex relaxes at once, offering the women behind her one last steely-eyed glare before turning to face the front of the church again, where Laura and James stand in front of the priest, beaming at each other.

Attempting to forget the outright lies of the women behind her – no doubt reflecting what everyone else thinks as well – she leans into her husband and watches the ceremony begin. Matt laces his fingers through hers, gazing straight ahead without a hint of emotion, but she knows him better than he'd like. "I must say, despite the miserable upbringing the two of you had, you managed to choose your partners surprisingly well."

He scowls. "You call that empty-headed fool a good choice?"

She rolls her eyes.

Laura had dragged James to the manor to visit before their nuptials nearly two months ago, eager to introduce her fiancé to her long lost brother and his wife. While she and Laura talked wedding plans and flower arrangements, Matt had taken James to his study, given him a cigar, and attempted to scare the bejesus out of him. Poor James had remained blissfully oblivious to his threats, grinning widely and innocently – like a kitten unaware that the snarling beast would happily eat it. Unused to the inability to leave every man, woman, and child shaking in their shoes, Matt has looked unfavorably upon James ever since.

"Just because he isn't afraid of you does not mean he's an idiot." Turning his head, he eyes her with incredulity and she wilts a little under his gaze. "Alright, perhaps he isn't the brightest young man but he's handsome and wealthy and he loves your sister dearly. That is far more than many young women ever get."

"Yes, slightly better than average – what an aspiration for my sister to strive for," he mutters, and then strokes his thumb lightly across her knuckles. "I, on the other hand, have impeccable taste."

Smiling at the quiet show of affection, Alex turns her head and bites her lip lest he see just how giddy the simple words make her – a girl has to have some secrets, after all. Instantly met with the stare of the old woman beside her, unashamedly gaping at the pair of them, Alex gathers her patience and smiles through her teeth.

Startled, the old biddy quickly turns away, blushing.

Satisfied, she leans further into the warmth and safety of her husband's side. "For once, darling, we actually agree."

"It's hardly the first time," he says, smirking. "I seem to recall just the other night, we both agreed that you were wearing far too much -"

"Matthew," she hisses, mortified.

To their right, someone shushes them.

Matt whirls instantly to glare down the pew at whomever the offending person had been and Alex doesn't look but she hears someone gasp in alarm and the creak of the pew as they shrink back into their seat with a muttered, "Forgive me, sir."

Attempting to distract her husband, Alex taps at his knee and directs his focus back to her before he snarls something rude and catches the attention of the priest and the besotted couple at the altar. "She looks beautiful, doesn't she?"

He hums once in agreement, taking her hand from his knee and cupping it between his own larger ones with surprising tenderness considering his mood. "So did you," he says softly, referring to their own wedding day just loud enough for her alone to hear. "I never got the chance to say it."

Blushing, Alex grips his hand and struggles to pay attention to the ceremony. "Thank you, darling."

The rest of the ceremony is beautiful and focused entirely on Laura and James. By the end of it, Alex is sniffling along with everyone else and Matt sighs at her tears, producing a handkerchief and pushing it into her hands without comment. Taking it gratefully, Alex dabs at her eyes and sniffs as the couple at the altar leans in to kiss with beaming grins, officially husband and wife.

They stand along with everyone else to go outside and watch the happy couple's procession back down the aisle and to their carriage. The moment Laura reaches them, she escapes James' grip on her arm and rushes to them, smile luminescent. She hugs Matt first, her arms tight around his neck and her face pressed into his jacket collar. "Thank you for coming, Matty," she whispers. "We'll visit soon, I promise."

He nods, hugging her back briefly before dropping his arms with a pinched look, as if he can't begin to understand why she must cling to him in public where everyone can see. Matt depends on everyone being frightened of him – it's his livelihood and the only reason he gets his money quickly and efficiently – but she knows that's only part of it. He finds it difficult being affectionate with most people other than Alex. Even Parker, undoubtedly his favorite, never gets more than the occasional hair ruffle.

Alex presses a hand against his back and smiles encouragingly, feeling him relax at her touch before Laura launches herself at her as well. "And you – the flowers were absolutely beautiful."

Framing the girl's face in her hands, Alex smiles. "Not nearly so much as you. Have a lovely honeymoon, dear."

They release each other just in time to see Matt attempting to crush the bones in James' fingers as they shake hands, dark eyes boring into James' open, friendly ones. "Take care of my sister," he says simply, and Alex wonders if she's the only one to hear or else.

James grins at him. "She's my first priority, of course. Just as you've taught me."

Matt frowns. "I didn't -"

"You teach by example, brother." James glances at Alex with a wink.

Staring at him and clearly flustered, Matt snaps his mouth shut after a long moment and nods once. "Good."

Alex turns her face into his shoulder, hiding a smile.

Without further delay, Laura and James climb into their waiting carriage and the gathered crowd sees them off, waving and shouting their goodbyes until they disappear down the lane. As the well-wishers begin to disperse, still casting Lord and Lady Smith suspicious glances, Alex stands with Matt in the middle of the church yard, content to bask in the morning summer air with his arm around her waist. "Makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

Glancing away from staring down the street where Laura's carriage had been, Matt frowns. "What?"

"What our wedding could have been like if things had been different." She feels a pang in her heart at the thought, wishing she could remember her wedding day as Laura will remember hers – beautiful and happy and full of love. "I wish I could have known then what I know now." She glances at her husband and finds him staring blankly ahead, jaw tight. "How much I would grow to love you."

He blinks, arm tightening around her waist. "Perhaps if I'd taken the time to court you, it might have been."

She laughs softly, wondering what she would have thought of a volatile loan shark writing her sonnets and asking her to accompany him on carriage rides. "Do you regret it then? Taking me away?"

"Never," is his instant, growling reply.

She smiles, feeling his lips linger at her temple. "Me either."

tell me you loved to destroy

Chapter Summary

Sometimes, her husband surprises even her with his romantic gestures.

Chapter Notes

Story title from 'tell me losing everything is what saved you' by Clementine Von Radics.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Sometimes, her husband surprises even her with his romantic gestures. She sits in the middle of their chambers surrounded by gifts, each one more lavish and expensive than the next. "Honestly, darling, it's our anniversary – not the birth of a messiah." She glances around the room at all of her lovely things – elaborate gowns and very rare books, necklaces and rings and bracelets, jeweled hairpins and earrings, a pair of silk slippers with pearls sew into them. Her earlier gifts – a new suit, a bottle of his favorite brandy and a pocket watch – seem to pale in comparison to all this. She strokes a finger along the beaded bodice of a gorgeous ruby gown and bites her lip. "They're all rather exquisite, though."

Lurking in the doorway, Matt smirks. "As if I would present you with anything less, pet."

She flushes, glancing away quickly and busying herself by toying with the matching ruby ring he'd slipped onto her finger. "You're too generous, my love. It's one of your many faults."

He snorts under his breath and she lifts her head to grin at him, relishing the adoring gaze he cannot help but direct her way. He's been watching her open gifts for the better part of an hour, lingering just inside the room and gazing at her with glittering eyes, as if watching her open his gifts is more than enough of a present for him. "You can hardly blame me," he says softly, dark eyes boring into hers. "For wanting to spoil my wife."

Alex glances around the room again with an indulgent sigh. "You've certainly done that. Now come here." She smiles, pushing aside her gowns and jewelry to make a space next to her on the bed. "I want to thank you properly."

He nods to the last unopened package on her lap. "Open that first."

Pouting a little, she turns her attention from her husband to the slender package in her lap, untying the ribbon slowly and pulling away the wrapping. Lifting the lid of the box, she peers inside and finds a thin, silver sheath inlaid with emeralds. She glances up curiously but Matt only smirks and she sighs, dropping her eyes once more. Picking up the sheath, she strokes a finger over the gemstones before pulling out the dagger tucked away inside.

It's absolutely beautiful, as shining silver as the sheath it came in, though more simple and practical than the sheath had been. One tentative press of her fingertip to the tip draws a bead of blood and she knows it isn't only a gorgeous trinket but a deadly weapon. "Darling, are you sure you didn't mean to give this to someone else? What am I to do with a dagger?" Confused, she glances up and finds Matt striding across the room with a scowl.

He sighs, settling onto the bed next to her and taking her hand in his. He inspects her fingertip with a scowl, drawing a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing at the bead of a blood gently. "First of all, you're meant to hurt others with it, pet, not yourself."

"It was an accident," she mumbles, blushing.

He raises his brows at her and dips his head, brushing his lips softly over the cut. "Better?"

She hums her assent, stealing his handkerchief to keep pressed against her finger, and leans up to peck his jaw. "Why are you giving me a dagger?"

Still holding her hand, he strokes a thumb across the inside of her wrist and narrows his eyes at the floor. "Because I can't always be with you and I can think of no better way for you to protect yourself."

"Darling, I hardly think I'll need to use this -"

"And I hope you're right." He lifts his head, dark eyes intent on her face. "But I want you to know how to use it just in case. You know how dangerous my life can be, Alex. You know there are people who would wish you harm just to get to me." She frowns, more out of concern for him than herself, and his eyes lighten like he knows. Lifting a hand to her face, he brushes a curl from her cheek. "I will protect you in every way I know how."

"Does this mean I can go with you on business in town?" She grins, admiring the hilt of her

dagger and imagining the possibilities. "I could replace Benson as your protector."

"No." His lips twist in a wry smile as she pouts. "Though I'm sure my clients would find you very formidable."

"I'm much scarier than he is," she insists. "And I have the added benefit of loving your difficult hide much more than he does."

"You're not replacing Benson," he says, and she thinks if Matt were the type of man to roll his eyes, he'd be doing it right now. She shrugs and strokes her fingertips over the dagger again, careful to avoid the pointy end. "But you are to carry this with you whenever you're out of the house, do you understand? When you go riding, you tuck it into your boot. When you garden or tend to the horses in the stables, this remains at your side." He taps it pointedly for emphasis. "If not for you, then for me. I'll rest easier knowing you're armed."

Curling a hand around the hilt of her new dagger, Alex glances up at him with a smile. "Of course, darling, if it'll make you feel better. And it's beautiful." She leans in and kisses the corner of his lips, grinning when he turns his head and captures her mouth properly. "Thank you."

He nods once, looking embarrassed. As much as he loves to give her gifts, he never quite knows how to accept her gratitude – at least not her verbal gratitude, anyway.

She lifts the blade and eyes it thoughtfully. "Who's going to teach me how to use it? Benson?"

"Do you really think I would trust anyone with this task but myself?" He arches a thin brow at her, smirking. "You've already proven you're more than apt at injuring yourself."

Alex huffs at him.

His smirk widens and he rises from the bed, pulling her along with him. "First lesson-"

"What? Now?"

"Do you have a more appropriate time in mind, pet?" He watches her blankly but even he can't conceal the laughter in his eyes. She glares, moving to stand in front of him, dagger in hand. "I

thought not. Now, turn around -" He directs her to turn and face the opposite wall and her annoyance is forgotten almost instantly as his strong, sinewy arms slip around her waist and draw her back against his chest. He leans in, mouth brushing her ear, and his hands slide along her forearms. Long fingers slip gently over hers and he holds the dagger with her, silently directing where her hand should go.

"Like this," he murmurs, and she shudders, struggling to pay attention. "Now, first lesson – the tip points away from you."

Alex stifles a bout of laughter and elbows him, relishing his grunt of discomfort. "Very funny, darling." He huffs out a quiet laugh against her ear, warm breath tickling her skin, and she struggles to concentrate on the dagger in front of her rather than turning around and kissing that smug look from his face. She concentrates so intently that her eyes alight upon a faint, small engraving along the blade, just at the tip of the dagger. She frowns, turning the blade around to inspect it more closely.

Matt sighs through his nose. "What did I just tell you, pet?"

"Darling, what's this? There's an inscription…" She squints at it, feeling Matt breathe in quietly behind her. "Mihi ad defendendum."

Arms wrapped around her waist, Matt strokes a finger along the words, his chin on her shoulder. "I had it specially engraved," he admits, and she wonders if he ever would have told her if she hadn't spotted it on her own.

Entranced, she watches his long, elegant finger trace the words and asks quietly, "What does it mean?"

She hears Matt swallow, feels his nose nudge against the curls at her neck as he mumbles, "Mine to protect."

Breath catching in her throat, Alex whirls to face her husband with tears in her eyes. Catching him off guard, she pulls the dagger from his grasp and drops it to the floor beside them, pushing him forcefully onto the mattress behind them. He falls amongst all the gifts he'd given her – little trinket boxes of jewelry, books, heaps of gowns. He scrambles to sit up as she climbs onto the bed and joins him, crawling over his lean, lanky form to straddle his waist.

"Thank you," she whispers, kissing along his throat reverently as he squirms beneath her, big

hands traversing the expanse of her back.

"Alex, love -" He sighs against her skin, gripping her tightly but unable to say anything else. Undeterred, Alex lifts her head and finds his mouth with her own, kissing him deeply.

She wants to thank him not just for the gifts, for the dagger and what it means, but everything. For always making her feel safe and protected and loved, for making her happier than she ever thought she would be married to a man like him. Her husband may be very bad at accepting her words of thanks, but she has much better ways of showing him her gratitude.

Curling her fingers in his hair, she tilts his face up to hers and smiles into dark, glittering eyes. "Happy Anniversary, darling."

Chapter End Notes

I should mention that these aren't necessarily being posted in order. Alex has mentioned in previous chapters that Matt had given her a knife and this was basically the origin of that. Just for future reference:)

come back with our hearts on your sleeve

Chapter Summary

Her flowers have died in her absence and he feels himself withering right along with them.

Chapter Notes

Story title from Hades to Persephone by Lee Ann Schaffer.

Darling,

Just a quick note to say I've arrived safely at Nicola's. I'll write again soon.

Alex

My darling,

I've only been separated from you a mere seven days but I miss you terribly already. Didn't we swear we would never be parted again? I can promise you, it will not be six months this time – I couldn't bear to be away from you like that again. I hope this letter finds you well. I hope you're getting along just fine without me – outwardly, of course. On the inside, I expect you to be positively aching with my absence.

Nicola is doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances. She talks very little of her dearly departed husband and more of my dearly beloved instead. Though I suspect she is merely trying to distract herself from her loss, I grow increasingly impatient with her as the days go on.

I've tried but I don't believe I will ever be able to make her understand how I love you, how incapable I am of ever thinking of leaving your side – she thinks you just as cruel as I once did, but her eyes have not been opened to the truth as mine have been. She thinks I have been

brainwashed into loving you, that what I feel isn't real but a fantasy you've made me believe. I wish I could make her see that no one makes me as happy as you.

I must dash – Nicola is taking a walk into town and has offered to deliver my letter to the postman. Write soon and tell me news of home.

All my love,

Alex

My love,

I was so glad to receive your last letter and to know that you're well but you failed to mention anything I wrote – I was certain you would have something to say about Nicola and her dislike of you. You're usually so vocal when it comes to anyone's disapproval. I was very much looking forward to your tirade.

All is well here. I took a walk through the countryside with Nicola's boys yesterday, hoping the fresh air might do them a world of good. We ran and climbed trees and got our clothes dirty – it was the first time I've seen them smile since I arrived. Their father's death has not been easy on them, the poor things. But I do so love spending time with them. Unfortunately, we got caught in an awful downpour and I came back drenched to the bone and haven't stopped shivering since. The boys are fine – far too young and healthy to be bedridden by such a thing – but I'm afraid I haven't been so fortunate.

Don't worry about me, darling. I'm sure I'll be perfectly well in no time at all.

I continue to miss you endlessly but I hope to be home and in your arms again soon.

All my love,

Alex

Darling,

I'm afraid this letter will be brief. I'm too tired and weak to hold the quill, so Nicola writing it for me as I dictate from my bed. She has enough to do and I don't want to trouble her by making her pen a long missive.

I'm sorry to say that I'm very ill, darling, and I suspect my jaunt in the rain is the culprit. I know you're probably scowling at this letter and cursing my carelessness but know that I am doing much the same because I know this means more time away from you until I am well enough to travel.

Don't bother making the journey. You must stay and look after the manor and the children. I am in capable hands here. Just write to me often and make me feel as if I am already home.

Love,

Alex

Darling,

Are you quite all right? I'm worried about you. You didn't even mention my illness in your last letter, nor express any concern or wishes for my speedy recovery. You're usually so overprotective – I expected a long diatribe scolding me for being silly enough not to predict a rainstorm, immediately followed by your insistence on coming here at once. Are you truly so angry with me for being ill? I hardly did it on purpose, darling. I can only assume that you sent your last letter before mine arrived and that your next one shall be full of your righteous distress.

I'm still very under the weather, I'm afraid. For the past few days I've been near insensible with fever and quite miserable. I miss you wildly. Nicola is doing a wonderful job looking after me, of course, so please don't worry your darling head over me. Give the children my love.

Write soon.

Alex

Darling,

You have not written since your last letter nearly two weeks ago and I don't understand why. I know you must be concerned for my health but please don't be. I'm feeling much better, I promise.

Please write and let me know you're well. I'm sure you must be busy with your work and I don't wish to trouble you. Just a note would suffice.

How are the children? Are my flowers faring well? Give my love to Cerberus.

I love you.

Alex

My darling Matt,

I'm afraid I've taken a turn for the worse. I feel quite unwell again. Nicola called for a doctor and he seems competent enough, so I'm sure I'll be right as rain in no time at all. Nicola pens my letters for me when I cannot, and always sends them immediately after. She's a wonderful nurse as well, but it isn't quite the same as home. I wish for your tender hands and Hobbs' cooking and Parker always lurking outside the door to make sure I want for nothing.

I know you're busy, as I have yet to hear from you again, but I hope you are better than I.

I miss you, my love. I want you with me.

Alex

Matt,

You haven't come. Why haven't you come to see me? I thought surely you would be here by now, banging down the door and demanding to see me – demanding to take me home.

Don't you know that I ask for you every day? I'm too weak to come to you, darling. You must make the journey yourself. I need you.

I know you hate to encounter my family but please, just this once, put aside your differences and visit your ailing wife.

Alex

The doctor and Nicola insist I'm still far too weak to travel but I cannot stand waiting a moment longer. I'm worried something awful has happened to you in my absence. I'm coming home, darling, and you'd better be there, buried under a pile of paperwork and entirely ignorant of my condition.

Please be there.

Alex

Her flowers have died in her absence and he feels himself withering right along with them. She is sunlight and rain and everything he needs to survive. Without her, he's afraid he will shrivel into dust. It has been five months – nearly as long as her last visit home. She'd promised she wouldn't ever be away so long again but she'd lied. She'd kissed him goodbye and whispered she would return as soon as possible and she'd looked so genuine, as in love as he was. He wonders if she'd known then that she would not come back. She promised to write every day but that too, had been a lie. Other than a quick note to say she'd arrived, he has not heard from her once.

At first, he'd kept writing to her anyway, enquiring after her health and telling her of things that happened around the manor – funny things Parker did and said, how often Iris played pranks on poor Benson, Cerberus' refusal to ride anywhere without Alex. He was faithful to write nearly every day, assuming she was busy taking care of her bereaved sister and would write back when she found the time, but as the days went by without a word from her, Matt could only assume that she was angry with him or something had happened to her.

Unable to make the journey and leave everything behind on a hunch, he'd sent a reliable teenage boy just recently in his employ to check on her – he might be able to sleep at night if he knew she was just busy or angry. He'd waited for the boy to return with word that his wife was ill or hurt or had been followed by someone with a grudge against him and no one had seen her for days – all manner of horrible scenarios. Nothing, however, prepared him for the truth.

The boy had returned with a note written in unfamiliar hand.

Assuming your spy returns to you, my sister would like you to know that she is to live with me and sever all ties with the man who took her away from her family and ruined her life. Do not attempt further contact.

The sting of heartache hit him first. He barely ate and refused to conduct business, holed away in his study and drinking. It had finally happened – a trip home had convinced her she could do so much better, that he was a monster who had somehow ensnared her. He'd worried it would happen the first time she left to care for her mother but she'd come back and thrown herself into his arms. He'd stopped fretting. He thought she'd loved him just as fiercely as he loved her. In spite of all the others who had left, he thought he'd found the one person who never would.

As the effects of his liquor fade, the anger and betrayal take hold and refuse to let go. He throws himself back into his work, bitter and more brutal than ever. People actually scurry to the other side of the street when he walks in town, terror in their eyes, and he stops taking Benson with him, reluctant to let his servant and old friend see just how low a woman has brought him. He thinks about going to her and taking her away with him just as he had the first time, throwing their

contract back in her face and forcing her to come home. He thinks about throwing her parents out on the street in exchange for Alex breaking their deal. He hasn't the heart to do either.

He'd made a mistake in taking a wife, pathetically desperate to soothe the ache of loneliness and infatuated with a temptress and her wild curls but he knows better now. Unfortunately, knowing that she no longer loved him does not make it any easier to stop loving her. He grips his anger tightly, wrapping it around him like a cloak to ward off all others, but he still craves her touch, her laughter, her eyes meeting his across the dining room table. There are reminders of her everywhere – her things still in their chambers, her books in his study, her favorite sweets in a jar in the kitchen.

Even the dying flowers outside are a reminder of her.

Standing at the window in his study, Matt peers through the curtains at the fog rolling in, swallowing up the once bright blossoms in the mist. It had been in this very room that he'd given her full reign over the grounds. She'd been warm and soft on his lap and if he closes his eyes, he can almost feel the weight of her arms around his neck and see the brilliant smile on her lovely face. He'd done what he could to make her happy, hadn't he?

Shoulders slumped, he stares through the windowpane with a scowl. He has found in his life that whatever he offers – everything, where Alex was concerned – it is never quite enough.

A soft knock on the door of his study jars him from his thoughts but he doesn't bother turning to face the door. "Who is it?"

After a pause, he hears, "It's Parker, Master Smith."

Sighing, Matt presses his forehead against the cool glass windowpane. "What do you want?"

"Y-you have a visitor, Sir."

He frowns savagely and snaps, "Who is it then?"

The door creaks open and he turns to scold Parker for opening the door without asking but the sight that greets him renders him speechless. "Your wife," she says, standing there like a vision. She grips the doorframe tightly, looking oddly pale and drawn, but he glances away quickly, mouth going dry. His knees feel weak and he clenches his jaw to keep from showing her just what

the sight of her does to him.

"Finally here to collect your things?" He asks.

"Collect my – no, of course not. I'm here to stay, darling. Finally home – since you wouldn't come to -"

"Get out."

After a brief pause, she chuckles weakly. "What?"

"You heard me," he says through gritted teeth, and begins to stride toward her with his eyes on the floor. He cannot look at her. Parker scrambles out of his way but Alex doesn't have the sense to do the same, standing and staring at him until he grabs her wrist in his biting grip. She cries out in alarm but he pays her no mind, yanking her down the corridor. "Get out."

"Darling, you're hurting me -" Alex stumbles but he doesn't pause, dragging her along into the foyer. He can't stop. He can't hesitate. He can't even look at her because the moment he does, he'll fall at her feet. He won't give her the satisfaction of knowing she is still his weakness, after everything. "Please, I don't understand. What have I done?"

"What haven't you done?" He snarls, yanking open the front door and hurling her out onto the stone steps. Alex trips on the hem of her gown and stumbles, scraping her palm as she tries to catch herself before she tumbles down the stone steps. "You're nothing but a contemptuous little demon and you will not set foot on my property again."

"Matt, please. Why are you doing this?" She looks up at him uncomprehendingly, tears shining in her eyes, and he swallows hard, glancing away. "Is it because I was gone so long? I couldn't help it, darling -"

"Don't call me that," he snaps, and slips around her crumpled form to step down the stairs. "You have no right. Not anymore."

Striding toward the stables with his fists clenched at his sides and his jaw working to stubbornly keep the sting from his eyes, Matt decides he'll send her away with Cerberus. He can't bear looking at the animal anymore anyway – he just needs her and every reminder of her out of his

sight at once. He hears Alex stumbling after him, calling for him in a voice filled with tears, but he doesn't turn around. He's too weak to resist her when she cries.

"Matthew!" She finally shouts, tears strangling her voice nearly beyond recognition. "I am not leaving you!"

Whirling on her, he finds her standing nearly twenty paces away and swaying on her feet, her hair wild and her thin, white dress bloodied from swiping her bleeding palm over the skirt of it. The cold wind from the moors whirls around her, sending her hair tumbling into her eyes and her skirts whipping around her legs. She looks wild and unhinged and god, so utterly beautiful. He steels himself, heart in his throat. "I don't need you," he says lowly. "I don't need anyone. You're free to go."

She stares at him. "But I don't want to go! I won't!" She takes an unsteady step forward and he backs away. "You're my husband, Matt. I love you."

Why must she say these things with such conviction when they both know it's a lie? Why must she torment him so?

"You are no longer my wife," he snaps. "I release you from our contract."

Even from a distance, he hears her sharp, indrawn breath and sees fresh tears fill her eyes. "What?" She sounds wounded and incredulous, her whole body trembling. "Our contract? Is that what I was to you?"

"It is clearly what I was to you," he says stiffly. "Considering you fled the moment you saw your chance."

"What are you talking about?" She stares at him as if he's gone mad. "I went to see my sister – you knew that's where I was going!"

"And you decided to stay," he snarls. "Yes, she was kind enough to inform me since you hadn't the nerve to do so yourself."

Pale and obviously unsteady on her feet, Alex blinks at him. "What?"

He tears his eyes away from her, concern for her wellbeing clawing at his chest. "You could have at least written to me."

"I wrote to you every day! It was you who stopped writing to me!"

"Because you never did!" He roars, and feels no satisfaction when she jumps in fright. "I know perfectly well when my attentions are not wanted."

"Wanted? I asked for you every day, every letter, begging -" Her voice cracks but she forges on, swallowing tears. "Begging you to come to me. And you never did. I thought something had happened to you -"

"Something did happen to me," he says hollowly. "I realized that no one ever stays."

Turning his back on her, he starts again in the direction of the stables. Alex calls for him one last time but he doesn't turn until he hears the thud of something heavy hitting the ground. One glance over his shoulder reveals Alex lying in a crumpled heap on the ground and his heart leaps into his throat and lodges there permanently.

"Alex?" She doesn't move, doesn't even shiver as the fog and chilly air settles over them both in the stillness. With a choked cry, Matt staggers to her side and drops to his knees, taking her face in his hands. The moment he does, he realizes how hot to the touch her skin is. She's burning up with a fever. "Alex? Pet, open your eyes. Look at me."

She whimpers, flinching, but remains unconscious.

Pausing only long enough to shed his coat and wrap it tightly around her shoulders, Matt gathers her into his arms and lifts her up. Her head lolls against his shoulder but he keeps her cradled to his chest, murmuring soothing nonsense as he starts the journey back toward the manor.

She'd been so pale and so unsteady, as if she could barely find the strength to walk upright. He'd noticed right away but he'd been so angry he hadn't really thought to ask why. How could he have been so thoughtless? What if he'd actually forced her onto a horse? How far would she have made it before she fell off? The thought sickens him and he grips her tighter, burying his face in her sweat-damp hair.

As he reaches the manor, Benson steps out of the house with Parker at his heels, jumping about and gesticulating wildly, no doubt describing Matt's horrid display. The moment they see him approaching with Alex in his arms, they stop conversing and stare, wide eyed.

"Mistress?"

Parker looks like he might cry but Matt doesn't have time to console the child. "She's fine, boy. Run ahead and prepare the bed for her." With one last concerned glance at Alex, Parker turns on his heel and marches quickly back into the house. The moment he's gone, Matt turns to Benson.

"Take one of the horses, go into town and fetch a doctor. Bring him back with you immediately – I don't care what he says. Kidnap him if you have to. Now."

"Yes, Sir." The one thing Matt admires most about Benson is that he never questions him. He only nods and carries out his orders. Matt doesn't stay to watch him run toward the stables, shifting Alex in his arms before turning and walking into the house and up the stairs.

Somewhere between sitting by Alex's bedside and holding her hand, and waiting for the doctor to finish examining her by pacing angrily in the corridor outside their chambers, he finally realizes what he should have guessed all along. He goes over their confrontation again and again in his head and realizes instead of looking guilty when he accused her of leaving him, Alex had looked at him like he'd slapped her. She hadn't gotten angry when he tried to force her from the house – she'd cried.

I wrote to you every day.

Numbly, Matt slips his hand into his trouser pocket and pulls out the note tucked away inside, Nicola's elegant, slanted script crinkled and smeared now from his frequent re-readings. He'd needed a daily reminder for a while as to just why he couldn't mount one of his horses, go to his wife, and take her home with him – she didn't want him anymore.

Except she did.

Crumpling the note in his fist, Matt clenches his jaw and breathes steadily through his nose.

Nicola.

"Lord Smith?"

Matt whirls to find the doctor standing just outside the doorway and eyeing him a little fearfully. Unconcerned with whatever the man might think of him, he snaps impatiently, "Well? How is she?"

"She's very weak, Lord Smith." The doctor glances over his shoulder and into the room where Alex sleeps. "But keep her fever down and with a bit of rest and absolutely no stress under any circumstances -" He pauses here to give him a reproving look that Matt would hit the doctor for if he didn't think he deserved it, "She should recover just fine."

Allowing himself only a moment to scrub a tired hand over his face in stark relief, Matt breathes out a quiet thank you. "Benson will return you to town. I appreciate your cooperation with him."

"I didn't have much choice," the doctor grumbles. The image of Benson towering over this poor, bespectacled doctor and yanking him by the collar onto his horse without even an explanation before galloping away is almost enough to make Matt smile. He pays the doctor handsomely for his trouble.

Alex is still sleeping when he slips into the room and approaches the bed, as drawn to her now as ever. She looks so wan and pale – so utterly fragile – that it makes his despicable actions earlier even more horrific. She's so frail he could have snapped her in two. Reaching out a shaking hand, he brushes his fingertips over her cheek tenderly, aching to touch her. Her skin is soft and warm – too warm – but after months of separation, the contact shoots through his veins like a drug.

She stirs instantly, eyes shut but brow furrowed as she mumbles, "Darling?"

He doesn't deserve that name – possibly not ever again – but he will always answer to it. "I'm here, pet," he says softly. "I'm right here."

She squints her eyes open, struggling against sleep to look at him. "Are you still angry?"

Swallowing thickly, Matt shakes his head. "No, I'm not angry." He strokes her curls from her face and clears his throat hesitantly. "In fact, I love you very much."

She sighs a little, as if some great burden has been lifted from her shoulders, and sinks almost instantly back into dreams. Matt stares at her for a long moment, frozen with guilt. Finally, with new resolve, he stoops to press a fervent kiss to her forehead and whispers, "Rest, pet. I'll be back soon."

"Where are they?"

He doesn't wait for a reply, pushing past her and into the house. He starts searching immediately, rummaging through drawers and dumping the contents out onto the floor, not caring if he trashes the whole place before he finds them. His anger had fueled his journey here and it still burns in his veins now as he upends tables and chairs, causing destruction just for the sake of it as Nicola gapes at him from the doorway.

"What in god's name do you think you're doing?"

Pausing with a valuable looking glass vase in hand, Matt snarls, "My letters – the ones my wife wrote every day she stayed in this little hellhole with you and your unfortunate brats."

"I don't have them, now will you please keep your voice down? My children -"

"Left ten minutes ago to head into town on errands for you," he finishes silkily. "I waited for them to leave. Just you and me now, dear sister-in-law."

Nicola swallows and juts out her chin. "All the same, if you could stop destroying my home -"

"And why should I stop destroying your home? You were clearly trying your damnedest to destroy my marriage. At least your things are replaceable." He curls his hands into fists and reminds himself that the wench standing in front of him is not only a woman but Alex's sister and causing her physical harm would not be wise. He doesn't much care if it would be gentlemanly – he stopped caring about such things long ago – but he holds the faintest hope that one day Alex may speak to him again and he would lose even that if he harmed her sister.

Nicola glances away, biting her lip. "I could never understand what it was about you that made my sister so happy. By all accounts, you are a cruel, volatile tyrant but she defended you against every ill word I said about you."

He purses his lips and glares at the floor, not for the first time overwhelmed with self-loathing. She'd nearly killed herself trying to get back to him and he'd treated her exactly as everyone

always told her he would. And even then, she' refused to leave. What had he ever done to deserve such devotion?

"She was practically on her deathbed when she left -" Matt flinches, closing his eyes. "But she was determined to see you. I had no idea."

He stares at the floor, a hollow ache in his chest. "What?"

"I thought you had her under your thrall – that you had brainwashed her into caring for you. But I can see now – you are as devoted as she is." Nicola gives him a smile full of regret. "It is you under her thrall."

Lifting his head in surprise, Matt meets her eyes for a long moment before giving a short, sharp nod, a lump in his throat. Without another word, Nicola turns and leaves the room. He doesn't follow her, standing in the middle of the carnage that was once her parlour and listening to her rummage about in the other room.

After a moment, she glides back in carrying a large bundle of letters, all tied together with fraying string. "I didn't send them, but I hadn't the heart to throw them all away."

She pushes them all into his arms and he stares down at them, stunned by the quantity of unopened letters. There are so many she must have written every other day for months, even when she was ill, even when he stopped sending his own letters. Nausea and guilt burning in his gut, Matt swallows back a wave of righteous fury directed toward the woman standing in front of him, eyeing him with contrition.

"I truly am sorry," she says softly. "I thought I was doing right by her. I thought I was saving her."

"You made us both miserable," he snaps, but his heart isn't in it. Nicola had been right – Alex is better off without him. He's just too selfish to let her go.

"I know." Nicola blinks away tears and twists the skirt of her dress in her nervous hands. "Will you please just tell Alex that I love her? Tell her that I'm sorry?"

He nods once, still staring at the abundance of letters in his arms, penned by his Alex. I asked you to come to me every day. He blinks hard, lifting his head. "I can't promise -"

"I know." Nicola forces a brave smile. "I understand."

Without another word exchanged between them, Matt turns on his heel and walks out of the house, leaving Nicola to clean up the mess he made just as she has left him to clean up hers.

He doesn't stop for rest until he reaches the manor, driving the horse beneath him as hard as he can, Alex's letters burning a hole through his satchel. The moment he reaches the stables, Benson reports to him that Alex has been awake all day and asking for him, but he can't bring himself to go inside. Not yet. Instead, he takes the bundle of letters and settles onto a bale of hay. He reads each and every one, opening them all with an increasingly shaking hand.

The more he reads, the more distressed he becomes. Alex tries to be brave for a while, telling him she'll be just fine and don't worry, but as the sickness takes hold, she stops hinting and flat out asks him to come to her. He can read the hurt and confusion in every word when he does not appear and rage burns in his gut but there is no one to take it out on but himself. He should have made the journey on his own, not sent someone to check on her. He wouldn't have taken that note as an answer. He would have demanded to see his wife and barged into that house – he would have taken her home.

Folding the last letter and tucking it back into its envelope with great care, Matt rises slowly to his feet and makes the trek to the manor from the stables with a heavy heart. The fog seems thicker than usual today, like trudging through mud instead of mist, every step weighing him down. Eventually, he makes it into the manor and up the stairs but he pauses outside the door to their chambers, hand hovering over the doorknob.

The last thing he wants and what he wants more than anything are one and the same – to see his wife. He wants to take her into his arms and look after her, to kiss her and make up for the time they've lost, but how can he face her now? She must realize Nicola had been right – there is nothing but unhappiness for her here. He can never be the man she deserves.

He is too accustomed to being alone. Tenderness does not come easily to him and after years of being abandoned by those he loves most, he will always feel suspicious and unworthy of a love like hers. He is cruel and selfish where Alex is kind and selfless. He needs her as the night cannot exist without the day but he cannot help fearing that a time will come when his darkness will extinguish her light. He could never forgive himself then.

"Darling?"

He squeezes his eyes shut at the name and twists the doorknob, peeking warily into their chambers. Sitting up in bed in a fresh nightgown, the blankets piled around her, Alex stares at him with forgiveness already in her eyes. He feels like the lowest creature on the face of the planet, lower even than the serpent himself, but she smiles at the sight of him and says, "I heard your footsteps on the stairs but you never came in. I thought you might be lurking out there."

He frowns. "I don't lurk."

She refrains from arguing, her smile soft and just a little tired around the edges. Her cheeks have regained their usual color and her curls, while not shining and bouncing as he's used to, are not quite so lank and lifeless as when she arrived.

The knot in his chest loosens just a little at the sight of her recovering already and he clears his throat, ducking his head. "I… found your letters."

Smile slipping, Alex glances away, lips tightening into a thin line, and it takes him a moment to realize she's staring at the note on her bedside table – the one Nicola had written him. He'd forgotten to take it with him. "I'm never speaking to her again."

It pains him to say it but he tries. "She wanted what was best for you -"

"She had no right," Alex snaps, and as he watches her eyes flash and her cheeks flush with indignation, he belatedly remembers what the doctor had said about stress.

"Pet, calm down -"

She ignores him as if he hadn't said anything, huddled on their bed and still looking far too fragile for his liking, tears shining in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, darling. No wonder you were so angry. Lord, what must you have thought -"

Stepping further into the room, Matt slams the door shut behind him with a bang, marching to the edge of the bed in agitation. "Why are you apologizing to me, Alex? I threw you out of the house

– I hurt you! Why aren't you furious? You should be calling for Benson or one of the boys and demanding I be escorted from the premises!"

"As if you would leave me," she says, and has the gall to actually smirk at him.

"No," he admits hoarsely, deflating at once. "No sooner than you would leave me, I imagine."

"But you thought I did," she points out softly, and he could swear her voice trembles. "And so easily, my love. I can't help but feel responsible. You should know without question that I love you above all others and if I haven't done that then what sort of wife must I be?"

"Stop," he growls, startling her into silence and feeling contrite instantly. He sighs, running a weary hand through his hair. "It wasn't you, pet." Saying what he feels does not come easily, even as determined as he is to make her see, and he spends a long moment working his jaw in silence before he manages, "I am too used to being left."

Wiping at her cheeks, Alex offers him a wobbly smile. "Well, never again. We go everywhere together or we don't go. The world is far too desperate to separate us."

He nods once, unable to find the words to agree around the lump in his throat. He does not deserve her forgiveness but by god, he will take it with both hands and do everything in his power to make sure he never needs it again.

"Come here, don't make me get out of bed. Haven't I traveled far enough for you, silly man?" Alex blinks away tears and holds out her arms as he crosses the remaining distance between them and the moment he's close enough, she takes him by the collar of his coat and hauls him onto the bed with her. He climbs up beside her and she fits herself into his arms perfectly, as if she had never left – hands slipping beneath his coat and arms wrapping around his waist. She presses her face into the crook of his neck and inhales shakily. "Just tell me you don't hate me. I couldn't bear it -"

He stops the rest of her words with his mouth, turning his head and crashing his lips against hers with a ferocity that startles even him. Hands framing her face – skin soft and warm and flushed beneath his fingers – he steals her breath for his own greedily, tongue slipping into her eagerly opened mouth to taste her. It has been months but oh, she tastes just as he remembers. Sweet fruit with just a hint of black tea underneath; pure and lovely but tainted with darkness. The salt of her tears lingers on his tongue and he slips his hands into her mass of curls with a groan, clinging just as desperately to her as she to him.

He allows her breath again with reluctance, planting rough, wet kisses along her jaw and down her neck unceasingly, feeling Alex thread her fingers through his hair and gasp her approval. "My

angel," he whispers against her collarbone.

Alex whimpers, pressing herself against his chest and nearly climbing into his lap. He steadies her with gentle hands, letting her curl up against him but stopping her firmly when she reaches for the buttons of his coat. "Darling," she pleads. "Please, I want you to touch me -"

"You're not well, pet," he groans, wanting nothing more than to strip her bare and reacquaint himself with every inch of her. "I promise I'll be here when you've recovered." Alex starts to protest again but he kisses her silent, growling when she nips at his bottom lip, the eager little minx. "You need rest."

"I need you," she says, kissing a sinful path down his neck and tugging his cravat out of the way.

"And you shall have me." He captures her wrist and brings her palm up to his eye level, studying the scrape there with a lump of remorse in his throat.

Alex softens, resting pliant and docile against him now, tenderness in her smile. "Kiss it better?" Without hesitation, he bends his head and brushes his lips reverently over the scrape with her eyes burning into him – judge and jury to condemn or absolve him. She chooses the latter, just as she always will, cupping his face in her injured hand and smoothing away his troubled frown with a murmured, "My darling."

"My undoing," he breathes, tilting his cheek into her touch.

She huffs out a quiet laugh, tender fingers tracing the angles of his face. "You talk as if I have some great power over you."

"You do," he rumbles, nosing at her palm. "My dark goddess."

She shushes him, cheeks pink.

He nips at her jaw. "One day, you will annihilate me and I shall let you with a smile."

"That would be a sight." She threads her fingers through his hair and tilts his face up to hers, grinning. "You? Smiling?"

"Kindly shut up, pet."

"Ah, there's my favorite scowl." She giggles and damn it all, his heart skips a beat at the sound. "My vengeful god just isn't the same without it."

He huffs and grumbles but he gathers her petite frame into his arms and buries his face in her hair, making absolutely certain that she will not see him smile.

strong hades and awful persephone

Chapter Summary

It doesn't take him long after the consummation of their marriage for Matt to figure out just what his lovely bride likes.

It doesn't take him long after the consummation of their marriage for Matt to figure out just what his lovely bride likes. She likes his hands on her – tender or rough does not matter so long as he's touching her. She likes to be spoken to, likes the low growl of his voice against her ear. She likes to wrap her hand around his length and smile when he falls apart. She likes to pet his hair when his head is between her slick thighs. And without fail, every time he undresses her – and he so loves to be the one to peel layer after layer from her body – her breathing will hitch when his fingers skim the ties of her corset. At first, he assumes it's only anticipation for the moment he will untie the last of the laces and strip the restricting garment from her, freeing his hands to roam every bare, perfect inch of her.

It takes him longer than it should to understand his Alex likes the restricting garment. The night he leaves the corset on, far too amorous to bother undressing her completely, Alex pinned beneath him and gasping for breath, she comes harder and more quickly than he ever knew a woman was capable of.

The next night, when they retire to their chambers and find themselves once more in a tangle of limbs and hard, bruising kisses, Matt focuses all of his efforts on shedding every last layer of finery from her until she is dressed in nothing but her corset and shift. Wide eyed and lips swollen, Alex claws at his waistcoat impatiently but he tuts, nipping at her bottom lip and settling his hands on her hips. He watches closely for the darkening of her eyes when he traces his fingers over the fastenings of her corset and the moment he sees it, he whirls her around and pins her face first to the mattress. She yelps in surprise, bent at the waist as he presses his groin against the lovely curve of her arse.

"Darling?" She asks, sounding tentative but pleased. "What are you -"

"You should have told me," he says softly, toying with the ribbon lacing her corset together. Alex flushes and squirms beneath him. He smirks, dipping his head to press his lips to her shoulder.

"Told you what?" She turns her head to look at him, a frown on her face but her eyes glittering with want.

"That you like this." He murmurs against the back of her neck, and tugs roughly on the laces of her corset. She gasps in shock and arousal, arching beneath him. "You like not being able to breathe." He pauses, stroking his fingertips up and down her spine through the layered material, and Alex shudders. "But that isn't quite right, is it? You like the thought of me controlling how little or how much you're allowed to breathe, isn't that right, pet?"

Her eyes flutter and he wonders why she never asked him for this – surely she knows by now that he can deny her nothing. "I – yes."

"Let's see just how much, hmm?" He fumbles for her thin shift, slipping it up her legs and around her hips. Alex shifts her legs apart for him, nuzzling her cheek against the mattress like a contented feline, and he praises, "Good girl." She sighs blissfully and he slips his hand between her thighs, heat instantly enveloping him as he strokes his fingers through her wet folds. "Oh yes," he rumbles, and she whimpers. "You like that very much, indeed."

Alex attempts to shift her hips, aching for more friction. "Please, darling."

He withdraws his hand, fumbling for the laces on his trousers. Pushing them down his hips, he demands gruffly, "Promise me you'll tell me if you want me to stop."

She nods hurriedly, arching her hips off the bed as he positions himself at her slick entrance. "I promise. Please, please -"

Matt drapes himself over her back and kisses the side of her neck, relishing the way she trembles beneath him. "You never have to beg me for anything, love."

She bites her lip the way she always does when he calls her that, and with one shift of his hips, he's pushing into the tight heat of her body and yanking simultaneously at the laces of her corset. Alex moans breathlessly as the garment tightens around her ribcage the same moment he fills her, her fingers digging into the sheets.

He nips at her shoulder, resting on his elbows and pressing his body weight into her, further robbing her of breath. She sighs her approval, moving back against him as he rolls his hips, pressing deeper inside her. Being inside his wife is like nothing else on earth. She is warm and wet and he struggles every time she envelopes him not to lose control and pound into her with abandon. It's especially critical now – she can scarcely breathe as it is.

Alex is usually such a vocal creature but tonight her starved lungs can't produce more than raspy,

needy whimpers and sighs. She pushes back against him eagerly, mouth open as she drags in air, her green eyes glittering and unfocused. Concerned, Matt brushes his lips over her ear. "Pet?"

"Fine," she pants, and squeezes her muscles around him just to prove it. He swears like a sailor, pressing his face hard against her shoulder blade. "More, oh lord, please -"

He growls, fumbling between them for the ties on her corset. The moment he wraps the length of the ribbon around his fingers and pulls, Alex tightens around him, muscles fluttering, and her cries reach a crescendo, high and pleading. He gazes down at her beneath him, her hips grinding into the mattress, and grits his teeth, struggling not to grip her hips and slam into her until Alex isn't the only one fighting for air.

"That's it, pet," he murmurs, rolling his hips against her and delighting in her strangled moan. "Breathe."

"Can't," she whimpers, gasping.

He smirks, ghosting his lips softly over the back of her neck. "Who says when you're allowed to breathe, my wife?"

"Y-you."

"Good girl." He punctuates the words with two deep thrusts and she releases a high, breathy cry. "And right now I don't want you to breathe. Do you know what I want, pet?" She nods. He fumbles between them once more for her corset, sure that one last tug will either cause her to faint or send her over the edge. "Then do it."

His wife can be the most obstinate creature on the planet, stubborn to a fault and as willful as any rebellious mare he's ever encountered, but in this, she obeys him without protest. With one last keening cry, she shudders and shakes beneath him, trembling apart in a breathless, beautiful display right before his eyes. The sight of her undone and panting, mouth open to drag in what air she can, is enough to make him lose his tenuous grip on his control and he buries his face in her sweat damp curls, thrusting with abandon.

Alex reaches behind her for his hand and he laces their fingers together, hips stuttering. She murmurs to him in a high, panting voice – that's it, I'm here, my love – and Matt sinks his teeth into the curve of her neck to keep from crying out, spilling inside her with one last grunt as his eyes slide shut, white light eclipsing all else. She is his light in this bleak, godless corner of the

earth, and the only time he ever feels the sun on his face is when Alex is in his arms.

When he can see again, he pulls out and collapses bonelessly beside her on the mattress, still breathing hard as he reaches for her, hands deftly loosening her corset and letting air fill her lungs once more. Alex draws in deep, greedy breaths, eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed bright red. His heart leaps at the sight of her. "All right, pet?"

She answers him by stripping off her sweat-damp shift and curling her naked body into his side. She kisses his neck, one hand stroking his chest absently. Matt turns his head and presses his lips to her forehead, petting her wild hair tenderly. "Happy?"

"Mmm." She hums, eyes fluttering open, and beams up at him. "Thank you, darling."

He kisses her hair. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She blushes, turning her face into his neck. "I thought you would refuse to -"

"What? Grant your every wish?" He harrumphs grumpily, entirely aware she knows she always manages to get exactly what she wants from him.

She pulls back and watches him skeptically. "Not when it meant potentially harming me."

"Never." He frowns at her. "If you believe I was not watching you every moment, prepared to rip the bloody thing off you at the slightest sign of true discomfort, you are very much mistaken, pet."

Alex grins, sliding a leg between his and leaning up to kiss his chin.

He eyes her in confusion. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just – I never feel as safe as I do when I'm with you."

He blinks at her, struggling not to give in to the unfortunate urge to duck his head like a smitten schoolboy – a most regrettable side effect of being utterly mad for the woman curled into his side.

"You are certainly the first."

"That's because you've never loved anyone like you do me," she explains simply, sounding awfully confident.

He arches a brow at her, lips twitching. "Is that so?"

She nods solemnly. "But it's entirely mutual, of course."

He huffs. "I should hope so."

"Don't pout, darling. You know I'm hopeless for you – ill-mannered scowl and all." She strokes the back of her knuckles against his cheek, grinning mischievously. "You take my breath away. Sometimes quite literally."

Matt sighs at the terrible pun, rolls over on top of his giggling wife, and promptly kisses her quiet.

this is the season of abduction

Chapter Summary

The sound of hoof beats in the distance makes her heart leap into her throat and she hurriedly feeds Cerberus the last sugar cube, dusting off her hands and whirling to find Matt cantering up to the stable unusually slowly for him. For a moment, she fears he's injured again but a closer look reveals that he's cradling a small, child-shaped bundle to his chest, wrapped in his coat.

Chapter Notes

Story title from Persephone at the Farmer's Market by J.P. Dancing Bear.

She spends most of her morning on edge, her heart skipping a beat at every noise, her body thrumming with adrenaline for no reason at all. She tells herself she's only worried about Matt, who had refused to take Benson with him on a trip into town this morning, insisting their stable hand and occasional bodyguard stay with Alex at the manor. But her husband knows how to take care of himself. He somehow managed to stay alive long before he married her – he'll be fine.

It doesn't stop the anxious churning in her gut – like something important, something frightening, is lurking just around the bend – and she distracts herself well into the afternoon by working in the gardens and the stables. She brushes out Cerberus' mane and sneaks him apples and cubes of sugar, smiling innocently when Benson walks by and eyes her with suspicion. He isn't fooled for a moment but he lets her believe she's getting away with spoiling the horse right under his nose.

The sound of hoof beats in the distance makes her heart leap into her throat and she hurriedly feeds Cerberus the last sugar cube, dusting off her hands and whirling to find Matt cantering up to the stable unusually slowly for him. For a moment, she fears he's injured again but a closer look reveals that he's cradling a small, child-shaped bundle to his chest, wrapped in his coat.

She sighs in equal parts relief and exasperation, settling her hands on her hips and calling over her shoulder to Benson, "It looks like we've got another one."

Benson glances up from inspecting the foot of one of the other horses, grinning. "Master Smith must be keen to quit terrorizing men and start his own orphanage."

She huffs. "Yes, with me as headmistress."

Benson's grin only widens and he ducks his head, going back to work, but Alex knows he'll be listening and watching closely – he always does. With a fond smile, she watches her husband's horse trot into the stables, already mentally reviewing household space and chores. Matt has a rather endearing habit of bringing home abandoned, orphaned children like a little boy might bring home a stray animal, claiming it followed him home. Just last week, he came back from a trip with five children in tow and she'd scrambled to find room for them and jobs for them to do. It's becoming more and more difficult to find the space but she rather loves his weakness for children. He would have made a wonderful father, were she capable of giving the gift of life.

Pressing a hand to her aching chest, Alex attempts a smile as he slows to a stop in front of her. "Where did you find this one?"

Matt looks down at her sheepishly. "She was an unfortunately clumsy thief in the market. Caught her and scooped her up before the merchant noticed." He shifts the bundle in his arms and holds it out to her. "Take her."

Lifting her arms, Alex takes the child from him carefully so her husband can climb from his horse. Cradling the bundle to her chest and shocked by how light it is, Alex glances down as the coat slips, revealing a small, delicately featured, and very striking child who can't possibly be more than three years old. Inhaling sharply, Alex glances up as Matt drops from the saddle, dusting himself off with a frown. "Darling, we can hardly put a toddler to work."

"Yes, I know, pet." He tugs at his shirt cuffs and looks at the child nestled in her arms. "But I could hardly leave her either."

"Of course you couldn't." She smiles and leans up to press a warm kiss to his cheek, his skin beneath her lips chilled from his brisk ride. "My big-hearted devil."

He glances away with a scowl, clearly unhappy to be labeled as anything remotely close to kind, but his gaze darts to her again within moments, eyes softening as she cuddles the little girl to her chest. "She's probably hungry," he mumbles.

"Well then," Alex smiles kindly down at the little girl eyeing her with suspicion. "It's a good thing Hobbs is making dinner."

Clearly starved, the girl devours the bowl of soup and plate of bread Hobbs sets in front of her,

mouth opening eagerly every time Alex lift a spoonful to her lips. Matt barely says a word all through dinner, watching from across the table silently as Alex tends to the girl, his dark, calculating eyes studying the child closely. Alex can't help but join him, taking in the fragile creature barely tall enough to see the top of the table from her chair. Her cheeks are still rounded with baby fat and a lovely, pink blush colors them the more warm food fills her belly. Her skin, beneath the layer of dirt, looks to be very pale and she has an extraordinary amount of hair for one so young, dark, tangled locks falling down her back. She's an absolutely beautiful child and Alex wonders where her parents are and who could possibly abandon such a darling thing.

She doesn't say much, far too focused on eating and studying the two adults staring at her in fascination but she doesn't seem frightened – not even of Matt. She swings her little legs and positively lights up when Hobbs brings a plate of freshly baked biscuits from the kitchen, setting the whole thing down right in front of her.

"There you are, little miss." Hobbs winks. "Best biscuits in the world, just for you."

The girl glances between Matt and Alex, then back to the biscuits, looking unsure.

Heart aching, Alex takes one chubby little hand in her own and guides it to the plate with an encouraging smile. "Go on then. Have as many as you like."

Still, she hesitates, looking at Matt. "Mine?"

It's the first word she's spoken and Alex can see the shock of being directly addressed register on Matt's face but he recovers, nodding once and clearly making an effort not to look intimidating. Without another word, the girl snatches up a biscuit like they might change their minds, bringing it to her lips and taking a bite as big as her tiny mouth will allow her. She kicks her legs again, humming happily.

Satisfied that the girl can speak, Alex waits until half of the biscuit is gone before prodding gently, "Do you have a name, lovely?" The girl blinks at her, still chewing. Alex swipes away a smudge of chocolate on her chin and tries again. "What do people call you?"

Swallowing a mouthful, the girl ducks her head and mumbles, "L'nora."

"Lenora?" Alex beams. "How very pretty."

The girl blushes, smiling shyly.

"Quite a name for such a small thing, though." She pushes a glass of cold milk toward her, helping her to hold the cup in her small hands. "Would you mind terribly if we called you Nora instead?" The girl brightens, little feet kicking out in enthusiasm as she wipes the milk from her upper lip with a small, chubby hand. Alex laughs softly, stroking her tangled hair. "Nora it is, then." She glances up and finds Matt watching, his face carefully blank but his eyes narrowed in thought. "Darling?"

He blinks, glancing away with a frown. "What?"

She swallows the urge to ask him if he's all right, knowing he won't answer so easily. It'll only make him gruff and annoyed that he hadn't been hiding his emotions well enough. She bites her lip, glancing back at Nora's dirty face and torn dress. "I think perhaps she could use a bath."

"Of course." He rises fluidly, still not looking at her. "I'll get Iris to take her -"

"No," she says before she can stop herself. Without thought, she tightens her grip on Nora, who startles at the touch, poking her cheek curiously with a little finger. Matt pauses, brow furrowed. "I want to do it, darling. If you could just send someone to prepare the water."

The hard line of his mouth softens and he lifts his eyes to look at her, taking in the sight of Nora huddled against her with a wistful sigh. "As you wish, pet." He pauses just long enough to brush his hand across her shoulder blades before striding from the room, off to do what he does best – order people about.

Alex attempts a smile for Nora. "He's not so bad."

Bath time with Nora is… interesting. Alex isn't sure the girl has ever had a bath in her short little life but she delights in the warm water, splashing in the tub the servants had brought into one of the guest chambers. Alex ends up nearly as drenched as she does but she hardly pays it any mind, scrubbing dirt from her skin until it's pale and gleaming, washing her hair repeatedly until the tangles are gone and the dark strands squeak with cleanliness at her touch.

"There we are," she says brightly, lifting the girl from the tub and wrapping her in a fluffy towel. "Good as new, hmm?"

"If I didn't already know she was a street urchin, I'd have no idea." Alex glances over her shoulder and finds Matt lurking in the doorway, holding a small white nightgown. He holds it out to her with a muttered, "Thought she might need something to wear."

Smiling warmly, Alex lifts Nora into her arms and crosses the room to take it from him. "Thank you, darling. Where on earth did you find something to fit her?" She deposits Nora on the bed and drops the towel, slipping the nightgown on over her head.

He looks uncomfortable. "Iris. She likes to dress up her dolls."

Alex bites her lip against a smile, picturing him bringing home clothes for baby dolls, and wonders why she ever found him intimidating. The man is a softhearted scoundrel. "Pass me that comb on the dresser, would you?"

He picks it up and crosses the room to hand it to her and the moment he's close enough, Nora looks up at him with big blue eyes and smiles. Matt looks startled, blinking back at her in silence. Alex does her best to pretend she isn't paying either of them any mind, concentrating on brushing out Nora's long dark hair. It falls to her waist – she swears there's more hair than little girl – and requires quite a bit of care. She brushes out any remaining knots gently, watching out of the corner of her eye as Nora inches out a hand, eyeing Matt shyly.

For a long moment, he only stares uncomprehendingly at her outstretched palm before what she wants registers in that dear head of his. Looking astounded, he holds out his hand and lets Nora slip her small one into his. She beams up at him, perfect, white little teeth revealing that wherever she's from, she hadn't been living on the streets long. She swings their hands between them while Alex plaits her damp hair into a long braid down her back, trying not to smile at the strange picture the two of them make.

Tying off the braid at the bottom with a piece of ribbon, Alex stands back and says, "There. Don't you look pretty?"

Nora twirls on the spot, turning her head over her shoulder to look at her braid with a beaming grin. Then, she reaches for Matt again, tugging at his trouser leg and looking up at him questioningly. Alex smothers a grin. "She wants to know if you like it, darling."

He clears his throat, entirely out of his element, and attempts, "It's… very nice."

Apparently satisfied, Nora swiftly turns and clings to Alex's leg, burying her face in her skirts to

hide her blush. Laughing quietly, Alex bends to scoop her up, settling the girl on her hip and carrying her back to bed. Matt hovers uncertainly behind her, watching her tuck the girl in, her head sinking back into the plump pillow with a sleepy smile. Relaxed from her bath and fatigued from her exciting day, it only takes a moment of Alex stroking gentle fingers over her cheek and humming quietly before Nora's eyes grow heavy and the couple watches in silence as she slips off to sleep.

Alex tucks the blankets around her chin and steps back, right into Matt's arms. He wraps them around her waist, nose buried in her hair. "She likes you."

He grunts. "No idea why."

"You're her rescuer, darling. She trusts you." Alex leans her head back against his chest, smiling when he brushes his lips over her temple. "Besides, not everyone is fooled by your gruff exterior – children in particular see right through you." He grumbles under his breath and she smiles, eyes landing once more on the toddler curled up on the bed. "What will we do with her? She isn't nearly old enough to work here with the other children."

"Would you rather I take her back into town in the morning?" He asks, chin resting on her shoulder. She tenses, uncomfortable with the thought. As much as she hates to admit it, she's attached to the poor mite already and sending her away back to a workhouse just won't do. Matt sighs, as if reading her thoughts, and kisses the side of her neck softly. "I could make a few inquiries, see who might take her in. A church might be willing to house her."

Alex nods, ignoring the knot in her stomach. "Just find her a good home."

He kisses her neck again, moving her hair aside to taste her skin. Alex twists in his arms to face him, hands fisting in his shirt as she tilts her head up and accepts his hard kiss eagerly. One hand in her hair and the other on her hip, he guides her expertly out of the room and they leave Nora sleeping peacefully, crossing the corridor to their own chambers. Before they undress and climb into bed in a tangle of limbs, they make sure the door is unlocked, just in case a certain little girl wakes in the night.

A week later, Nora still doesn't have a permanent home but Alex can't say she minds and Matt doesn't seem to be in a hurry to get rid of her. She doesn't even know if he has attempted to make any of his inquiries into finding her a suitable home yet. He seems far too preoccupied spoiling Nora with pretty dresses and porcelain dolls, sitting her on his knee in his study while he goes over his paperwork.

Alex is no better, taking Nora with her into her garden and tucking blossoms behind her ears, teaching her the names of each flower and helping her to touch the soft petals. She holds her on her hip while she looks after Cerberus, coaxing Nora to pet his muzzle and laughing when Cerberus startles her with a nudge of his nose and she squeals, clinging to Alex's neck.

Today, she'd taken Nora for a short ride, the two of them ambling along the moors on Cerberus' back, Benson trailing along protectively behind them. And now, with the day's work done and dinner eaten hours ago, Alex leaves her warm spot next to the fire in the library to make herself a cup of tea. The hour is late and she doesn't want to trouble Hobbs when she's perfectly capable of making it herself. On the floor, Nora occupies herself with stacking the books she'd taken from the shelves, making towers as tall as she is before knocking them over and giggling, clapping her little hands in delight.

Matt peers at her from the top of his newspaper, grumbling that she's going to dent the spines but making no move to actually stop her. Alex bends to kiss his cheek, murmuring a quiet promise to make him a cup of tea as well before leaving the two of them on their own. Though he'd never admit to it, Matt is actually rather brilliant with her and Nora seems to enjoy his company despite his surliness, or perhaps even because of it. She gravitates toward Matt most often, clinging to his hand on walks through the moors and sneaking into his study after playing in the garden with Alex to shyly offer him a flower she'd picked. Matt, in turn, is as gentle as she's ever seen him – this dark, intimidating man most cower before turned to mush by a little girl. They make quite the pair.

It only takes her a few minutes to prepare them each a teacup and Nora a glass of milk, carrying it all back up the stairs on a tray but when she reaches the doorway to the library, she finds Matt has abandoned his newspaper and joined Nora on the floor. Alex pauses, hesitant to enter the room and interrupt them just yet. Matt instructs Nora in a soft, surprisingly patient voice that the smaller books should go on top and the larger ones on the bottom to provide a stable base for her tower.

Nora follows his advice dutifully, scrambling over his lap to fetch more books while Matt watches indulgently and Alex stares from behind the doorway, warmth blooming like an ache in her chest. He would be so perfect with a child of his own.

Just as she's about to push the thought aside and step into the room, Nora trips in her haste to grab a hefty book, stumbling and landing hard on the floor, her knee scraping against the rough edge of a hard -backed edition of Dante's Inferno. Alex inhales sharply, holding her breath, but Matt has her in his arms in seconds, one large hand stroking her hair as he shushes her. "You're alright," he says. "Be a brave girl, now."

Alex watches in stunned silence. Tears are usually a cause for alarm with Matt but he hadn't even hesitated. Nora clings to his neck and sniffles into his shoulder, mumbling, "Bad book."

Matt nods along with her, throwing a glare at the offending object like if he could punish a book, he would do so in a heartbeat. "Very bad book," he agrees. "We'll toss it out a window later, how's that?"

Nora releases a watery giggle. "Bye-bye, book."

He smirks, rubbing her back. "Perhaps we'll feed it to Cerberus. Would you like that?"

"'Berus eats apples," she points out, still sniffling slightly but looking cheered. She pulls back to lay a small hand against Matt's cheek. "Not books. Tummy ache."

"Of course. You're absolutely right." Matt settles her back on her feet again and pats the top of her head. "We'll just use the pages to line his stable."

Nora makes a face, mumbles yucky, and hugs his knees before toddling off again, gathering more books. Returning to his chair, Matt settles back in and picks up his paper. Not nearly as surprised as she might have been when she first married him at such a display of tenderness, Alex bustles into the room as if she hadn't seen anything at all. Setting the tray on the nearest table, she picks up the warm milk and says, "Here we are, a drink for my favorite girl."

Nora squeals in delight, giving Alex a clumsy kiss on the cheek in thanks, and wraps her little hands around the cup, gulping her drink. Alex smiles secretively, wondering if she'll ever make the connection between warm milk and bedtime and start refusing to drink it. Five minutes from now, she'll be curled up on the floor with her books and fast asleep.

Leaving her to it and ignoring the two cups of tea remaining on the tray for now, Alex steals the newspaper from her husband and sets it aside, occupying his now empty hands with a lapful of her instead. He doesn't complain about the change, wrapping his arms around her waist and tugging her close, nuzzling her neck. Watching Nora play on the floor, her bruised knee entirely forgotten, Alex slips her arms around his neck and smiles.

They go on almost like a family for another three days, both of them becoming more and more attached to the little girl Matt had brought home but unwilling to admit it. They ignore it instead, pretending they can just keep going as they are forever and Nora fits so well into their lives that it's easy for Alex to believe that maybe it will.

Arm linked through Matt's, she strolls along through the afternoon fog and keeps a close eye on Nora skipping ahead of them, making sure not to lose sight of her for a moment. She stoops to examine a leaf, long hair falling in loose curls around her face and the hem of her dress precariously close to a patch of mud. "Careful, dear. Don't dirty your dress."

"Let her play, pet," Matt strokes his fingers along the inside of her elbow. "We can buy another dress."

"Darling, don't be frivolous," she scolds lightly, too content with the stroke of his fingertips over her skin to really kick up a fuss. "It's not teaching her good values."

He sighs. "Well then perhaps I'll just buy her trousers and the two of you can gallivant around the moors like wild things together."

Alex smiles, tearing her eyes from Nora just long enough to look up at her husband. "Don't pretend you don't like it when I wear trousers."

"Not the point I was trying to make, pet."

"And what was your point, darling?"

He huffs at her smirking face, lips twitching.

"Mummy, Daddy – frog!"

They both turn at the sound of Nora's excited voice and find her bouncing on her toes, pointing at the frog only meters from her, and then her words register and they freeze instantly. Mummy. Daddy. Alex barely breathes, refusing to glance at her husband and let him see the tears stinging her eyes. She waits for him to correct Nora, to tell her in the quiet, gentle voice he always uses with the girl, that they are Matt and Alex – not her parents.

The correction doesn't come and instead, she hears only the rattling sound of a carriage in the distance. Matt glances up, his gaze turning sharp and steely. "Alex," he says urgently. "Take her inside. Now."

"But darling -" One look at his face is enough to stop the rest of her protests on the tip of her tongue and she nods, squeezing his hand briefly before hurrying to Nora and scooping her up. "Come along, lovely."

Nora squirms. "But my froggy -"

"We'll come back to visit him later, alright? I promise." She presses her lips to Nora's temple and nearly runs all the way back to the manor before whoever is visiting Matt can lay eyes on the precious bundle in her arms. "Mummy promises."

It only takes a few minutes before Matt comes to fetch her, slipping into the room that has somehow become Nora's in the short time she's been with them. Alex glances up from stacking blocks on the floor with Nora and one glimpse of his face is enough to make her heart begin to pound.

"Darling, what's the matter?"

He doesn't answer, leaning against the door and watching her play with Nora, his gaze pained. More alarmed than ever, she gives the child the rest of the blocks, pats her dark hair soothingly, and rises to her feet.

She smoothes her skirts with hands that shake and asks with forced cheer, "Have you finished your business? I didn't hear the carriage leave."

She moves to the window to glance out, hoping to see the carriage rattling down the drive. As her eyes scan the horizon, Matt finally speaks and she instantly wishes he hadn't. "That's because it's still here."

She knows. She doesn't know how she knows but she does and she can't bring herself to turn around and look at him. Instead, she curls her fingers tightly around the windowsill and shuts her eyes, bowing her head.

"A man and a woman are waiting in the parlour. They claim to be the girl's aunt and uncle – they've been looking after her since her parents passed." Matt clears his throat and it sounds as though he has to force the next words from his mouth. "They've come for her, pet. They've come to take her away."

She shakes her head, tears burning behind her eyelids. They had never planned on keeping her, she knows they hadn't, but part of her couldn't help but hope – "Right," she manages, voice wobbling. "Of course."

She feels Matt's hand on the small of her back instantly, providing comfort she isn't quite ready to accept. She shies away from him and hears him sigh. "Alex -"

"We should pack her things." She opens her eyes and squares her shoulders, turning from the window but avoiding his gaze. Instead, she watches Nora, still playing on the floor in blissful ignorance. She's stacking her blocks precariously high, little mouth already curled into an anticipatory grin for the moment she'll knock them all down. "She'll want to take her toys and the clothes we've bought her. And I'll get Hobbs to package a batch of her biscuits for the journey – you know how hungry she gets -"

"Alex, pet -"

"They lost her," she snaps. "They misplaced a child, Matt. She was filthy and starving when you found her, remember?" Her eyes fill up again and she wipes at them hurriedly before Nora sees. "They don't deserve her."

"No, they don't," he agrees darkly. "But we have no claim to her, pet."

"And are we sure they do? How did they even know where to find her?" She asks, feeling inexplicable contempt for people she has never even met. They're taking away Nora – it's more than enough reason to hate them in her mind.

"When they realized she was missing, they started making inquiries in town. Someone who was in the marketplace that day I found her recognized their description as the same little girl I carried off with me." Matt's eyes darken and he glances away, jaw tight. "They assumed I had taken her to work for me like the other children."

"And they came here expecting you to just hand her over – with your reputation?" Alex shakes her head, curls bouncing around her shoulders. "We can't just – she's happy here and I – she called me mummy." Her throat closes up and she can't say anything else, but she doesn't have to. Matt wraps an arm around her waist and draws her close, pressing a firm, apologetic kiss to her temple.

"I know." He swallows audibly. "I'm sorry, Alex."

While some of the servants begin to pack up Nora's clothes, toys, and books, Alex clings to the little girl, carrying her down the stairs with Matt at her side, a guiding hand on the small of her back. She couldn't bring herself to explain to Nora exactly what is happening and as a result, she is perfectly content in Alex's arms as they enter the parlour, stroking little fingers through her curls as has become her habit.

A slight, grubby looking woman with a pinched, harried expression rises from the settee the moment she sees Nora. "There you are, you naughty thing. Do you have any idea how long we been looking for you?" Nora starts at the sound of her aunt's voice, clinging to Alex a little tighter as she turns her head and looks at the woman across the room with wide eyes. "What would your mother – God rest her soul – say about you running off willy-nilly? I've a right mind to give a spanking, going off with a strange man like that!"

Alex tightens her arms around Nora and lifts her chin, glaring at the woman. "Perhaps if she were better looked after, she wouldn't have had the opportunity to run off."

The woman narrows her eyes, hands on her hips. "Begging your pardon Lady Smith, but I ain't got the time to follow after her all bloody day and I certainly ain't got any servants to do it for me like some."

Alex seethes but Matt's quelling hand sliding up her spine keeps her silent. "I assure you she has been well looked after here," he says, his voice cool and calm but still somehow managing to convey a hint of menace. "As I expect her to be once she leaves."

"Of course, Sir." The portly man still sitting on the settee finally speaks up with a jovial grin. "Like she was me own."

At Matt's nod, Alex reluctantly places Nora on her feet, stooping to her level and mustering a smile. "Your aunt and uncle are here to take you home, sweetheart. They've missed you very much." Nora stares at her, small fingers digging into Alex's wrist. "They're going to take good care of you, all right? And you'll bring your things with you, of course." Her smile turns watery but she forges ahead quickly. "Thank you for staying with us. We've -" Her voice catches and she feels Matt settle a hand on her shoulder. "We loved having you with us."

Nora's bottom lip starts to tremble as she begins to understand she is leaving and not coming back, and Alex can't stand the sight. She gathers the girl in for one last hug, holding her tightly and burying her face in Nora's dark, sweet-smelling curls.

"Goodbye, lovely."

The woman claps her hands with a smile. "Well, we should get out of your hair." She moves forward, arms outstretched. "Come on then, Lenora. Come to Auntie Beth and Uncle Tom."

Nora shrinks from her, little hands fisting in Alex's dress, but Beth pries her away, tugging her from Alex's arms with a grunt of exertion. "No!" Nora struggles, kicking and flailing mightily. "Not L'nora. Nora!"

"Yes, alright. Nora. Bloody hell, child." Beth sighs, settling Nora roughly on her hip, batting her hands away when she reaches out continuously for Alex.

Alex keeps her teary-eyed gaze fastened on the floor, drawing strength from Matt's hand curling around the back of her neck, fingers slipping into her hair. "You must visit," he tells them. "So we can see how she's doing. Or we'll visit you." The tone of his voice says that if he should be forced to make a personal visit to see Nora, it will be most unpleasant for all.

"Of course," says Tom, still smiling that disagreeable, wide grin. "Every other month, eh?"

Matt nods stiffly, though Alex knows every other month will hardly be enough for either of them.

Tom tips his hat. "Thank you kindly for putting up with her for us. Hope she didn't give you too much trouble."

"She was perfect," Alex says, glaring.

"Glad to hear it." Tom grins again and the strange couple turns to leave. Nora still struggles in Beth's arms, reaching over her shoulder for Alex with tears welling in her eyes and slipping down her cheeks.

"No," she shrieks, kicking and screaming. "Mummy! Daddy!"

Alex bites back a sob, whirling away from the sight of her leaving and burying her face in Matt's chest. He wraps strong arms tightly around her, cradling her head in his palm as Nora's cries echo off the walls.

"Mummy and Daddy ain't here, silly thing," Beth shouts over her wailing. "You only got us now. So stop struggling before Uncle Tom spanks your bottom!"

Matt tenses suddenly, dropping his arms from around Alex and she lifts her head, eyes red and tear-filled. He drops a kiss to her hair and gently pushes her aside, his gaze dark and determined as he takes a step forward. "I'll give you a thousand pounds to give her to us," he calls out.

Nearly down the hall and to the front door, Tom and Beth freeze, turning slowly to look at him with wide, glittering eyes. Alex can read the greed on their faces as plain as day and hope flares in her chest. "Her?" Beth calls over Nora's sobs. "You want her?"

"Yes," Matt snaps. "Very much. And I'm willing to pay."

Heart in her mouth, Alex rasps, "Darling, what are you doing?"

He turns to look at her, eyeing her through his fringe. "I see no reason why she shouldn't remain here where she'll be properly looked after. We certainly have the means to care for her." He hesitates. "And she clearly means a great deal to you."

"And to you?"

He huffs grumpily. "Yes, obviously."

Behind them, Tom clears his throat and they turn to find him and his wife standing in the middle of the room once more, bright-eyed and eager. Nora still struggles in Beth's arms, reaching out for Alex, her cheeks red and streaked with tears. "Any man willing to pay a thousand pounds for the mite will surely be willing to pay two thousand."

Matt grits his teeth and Alex curls a calming hand around his bicep, more determined than ever that Nora never leave with these people. To be in need of money is one thing – she sees desperate souls crawling here on their knees every day, begging Matt for any loan he'll give them – but to bargain for that money for the price of a little girl is despicable. "Very well," he says with a terse nod. "So long as you agree to sign Nora over to us and never return."

The couple exchange one quick, gleeful glance and while Beth is occupied, Nora finally manages to escape her grasp, scrambling on little legs across the room and launching herself at Alex, who stoops to scoop her up and cradle the girl tightly to her. They're both in tears, clinging to each other as if they might be separated again at any moment. Alex strokes her hand over Nora's dark hair, shushing her quiet whimpers. "It's alright, sweetheart," she murmurs. "You're not going anywhere." She meets Matt's gaze over Nora's shoulder and he watches her with soft, adoring eyes, brow pinched. She manages a watery smile for him and he relaxes.

He turns to the couple still deliberating in the middle of the room, eyeing them with the same cold disinterest he does all of his clients. "Do we have a deal?"

Tom and Beth nod in unison. "So long as you agree to the same," Tom ventures warily. "We can't have you coming to find us in a few months trying to give her up. She'll be your burden now."

Matt flexes his jaw, nostrils flaring. "I assure you," he manages silkily. "Nora will be no burden on us."

"Alright then." Tom beams, rubbing his hands together eagerly. "What do we need to sign to make it official?"

"I believe I can draw up a binding document." Matt inclines his head in the right direction. "Parker."

The boy appears around the doorframe almost instantly and as evidenced by the wide grin on his face, Alex knows he's been listening rather than helping the others pack. "Yes, Sir?"

"Show my clients to my study." He lets his gaze drift to Alex, Nora still bundled in her arms. "I'll be along shortly."

With a nod, Parker silently leads Tom and Beth from the room, still smiling as he disappears with the newly rich couple. In the ensuing silence, Alex swallows hard. "Matt, darling, do you know what you're doing?"

He nods, eyes flaring with warmth as he looks at her. "She's the closest we'll ever come to a child of our own, pet."

Her eyes fill up and she glances down at Nora still snuggled against her, pursing her lips tightly. Once she's quite sure she isn't going to cry, she looks up again and attempts a light-hearted, "Darling, please tell me you did not steal her for me."

He scowls but his lips curl ever so slightly. "Of course not. You said once that we're parents without a child." He clears his throat, eyes darting to her face and away again. "And she just so happens to be a child without parents. We fit."

She releases a quiet, choked laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. "Yes, we do." A child with Matt – even through such unconventional means – is more than she has allowed herself to hope for. "Are you sure this is what you want, darling? Truly? I distinctly remember a time when you said your life was not meant for children."

"I meant it wasn't safe. And it still isn't," he admits, and then looks up at her and Nora with fierce determination in his eyes. "But I will protect her. Just as I've protected you."

She smiles tearfully. "I know you will."

Matt crosses the distance between them in one long-legged stride, taking Alex into his arms, Nora crushed between them without complaint. Long fingers curling around her upper arms and gripping tightly, Matt bends his head and captures her mouth in a hard, exultant kiss. Alex beams against his lips, using her free hand to tug at his coat and draw him as close as she possibly can. "Did we just -"

"Buy a child?" Matt smirks, nipping lightly at her bottom lip. "I believe so."

Alex stifles a grin. "Well, it's certainly better than that knife you bought me for our anniversary."

He huffs, scowling at her, and she's just about to reassure the silly man that somehow that knife means more to her than any gift she's ever been given but Nora sniffles into her neck and they both fall silent. Alex strokes a hand up and down her back, shushing her softly. "It's alright, lovely. Everything is alright now, I promise." She lifts her eyes to Matt and smiles. "Mummy and Daddy are right here."

Eyes bright, Matt rests one hand on Nora's back and the other cups Alex's cheek tenderly. "She's ours now." He smiles softly and he looks beautiful, like the first time she ever saw him smile in a carriage on the way to town, still a little afraid of him and wanting so badly not to see the good in the man she married. "Our daughter."

"Oh, darling." Alex leans up on her tiptoes and kisses him again, a sweet, enthusiastic brush of her mouth against his. "She has been since the moment you decided to put her on your horse and bring her here." She laughs quietly, ducking her head to brush her lips against the top of their daughter's dark head. "But only Nora knew. She knew she was home all along."

no moon, no stars

Chapter Summary

She thought it was a miracle.

Chapter Notes

Trigger warning: miscarriage

Remember that this fic takes place BEFORE the events of the last one I posted. Story title from Myth of Devotion by Louise Gluck.

She thought it was a miracle. She thought perhaps the doctors had been wrong. She thanked God for the mistake because otherwise she'd have been married off long ago and never to Matt. She teases her husband that the dense fog must be beneficial to reproduction. She smiles so widely that every night when she falls asleep, the muscles in her cheeks ache.

Her belly grows rounded, her figure softer. She glows.

Matt fusses and spoils her, becoming more endearingly protective than before. Even he can't help the soft look in his eyes.

She wakes in the middle of the night, blood staining her nightgown.

She should have known – should have expected this. But she hadn't and somehow, that makes the loss so much worse.

Stricken, Matt stumbles from their bed and out into the corridor, screaming for Benson or Hobbs or anyone at all. Their staff floods the hallway, all of them wearing sleepy, terrified expressions. Matt refuses to let them in, white-faced as he snaps for someone to fetch a doctor.

Tears spilling down her cheeks, Alex curls into a ball in the middle of the bed and closes her eyes. There's no use in a doctor and she knows it. She has a feeling Matt knows it too but her husband is a man of action. He needs to feel as if he has done something – anything – to save their child.

She curls a hand around her cramping abdomen and presses against the slight swell of her stomach. She'd been hoping for a boy all this time. A son for Matt.

He's at her side again in an instant, slender, sure hands cupping her face as he presses his lips to her forehead. "It's alright, pet," he murmurs. "You're going to be just fine."

"My baby," she whimpers, shaking her head. "Not my baby."

He shushes her softly, gathering her into his arms. She struggles for a moment, bloodied and ashamed, but he holds her tightly, heedless of the mess, and she sags against him, too tired to continue putting up a fight. She curls her bloodstained fingers into the collar of his nightshirt, and he holds her until the doctor arrives –still in his nightclothes and looking annoyed, Benson standing menacingly behind him.

"Let's have a look," he says, rolling up his sleeves.

Matt nods his thanks to Benson, who disappears with a last fleeting, mournful glance at Alex. With reluctance, she moves from Matt's arms and back into bed as the doctor approaches. As if he can't stand to watch, he rises from the bed and paces away from her. Alex opens her legs but keeps her eyes focused on her husband, feeling sick to her stomach.

Jaw tight, Matt walks to the door and opens it, sticking his head out to murmur an order to those still waiting outside. She doesn't breathe until he shuts the door and turns to look at her once more. "Matt," she says, voice quavering, and though she can't manage to say anything else, that one word was all she needed. He sinks to his knees beside her, taking her hand in his.

Kissing her knuckles reverently, he turns his gaze to the doctor and snaps, "Well?"

The doctor confirms what they already know. The child is lost.

On her side and staring blankly at the wall, nightgown still around her waist, Alex barely hears the doctor murmur something to Matt along the lines of sorry and just not capable of carrying a child. Matt shows him the door with a handsome tip and returns looking hollow-eyed and solemn, balancing a pitcher of warm water and a washcloth in one hand, and carrying clean linen in the other.

Watching him put everything at their bedside carefully and quietly, Alex purses her trembling lips

and manages, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" His voice sounds rough and scratchy, and her heart leaps into her throat. "What on earth do you have to be sorry for, pet?"

"For not being strong enough to carry our baby," she whispers.

Matt stops pouring water from the pitcher into the basin on their dresser and turns to her, his dark gaze suddenly fierce and bright. "You believe this is your fault?"

"Well it certainly isn't yours."

He shakes his head, visibly gritting his teeth. "It isn't yours either."

"The doctor said -"

"I don't care what that worthless quack said," he snaps, and when she flinches, he softens. "You are stronger than anyone I have ever met, love."

She bites her lip, glancing away.

He sighs. "Come here, let's clean you up."

Helping her stand on unsteady legs, he guides her to the water basin and strips her of her sullied nightgown. His hands are reverent as he cleans the blood from between her legs, his arms strong and steady as she leans against him for balance. Tears slip down her cheeks and drop into his hair but he doesn't acknowledge them, choosing instead to murmur quietly, "It's alright, pet. Almost over now."

She doesn't speak as he helps her into a new nightdress and guides her to sit at her vanity while he strips their bed of the bloody sheets and puts on the clean ones, watching him with fondness in her aching heart. He could have had a servant come in and do all of this but instead, he's taking care of her himself. Despite the gaping loss clawing its way up her throat like a sob, she can't help being grateful to her gruff but tender husband.

He wraps an arm around her waist and helps her to stand. "You need to rest," he says, and her eyes fill up again because he sounds like a lost little boy and she's in no position to comfort him now.

"I'm sorry," she says again, tears choking her.

"You've nothing to be sorry for." Matt tucks her in, drawing the blankets up to her chin.

She turns her cheek into her pillow, face crumpling with grief. "I wanted to give you a son."

Smoothing the hair from her forehead, Matt settles onto the edge of the bed beside her with a heavy sigh. "And I wanted a son. But I only need you, do you understand me? Just you, pet."

Alex nods, closing blurry eyes to the sight of his pained face. One hand pressed to her stomach, she clings to his tightly gripping fingers with the other and eventually cries herself into an exhausted sleep.

Morning comes too quickly and Alex wakes alone, facing Matt's empty side of the bed. Her hand is still curled around her stomach and for one brief, shining moment, she thinks it was all a horrible dream. The changed sheets on the bed and the ache of emptiness quickly rob her of any hope of that. As soon as the loss washes over her anew, she wants to curl into a ball and sob but she stifles the urge quickly, blinking her burning eyes.

There will be plenty of time to grieve, but her first order of business is her husband.

Slowly, she sits up and climbs out of bed. The task of dressing herself and preparing for the day seems insurmountable so she doesn't bother, reaching instead for the dressing gown in her wardrobe and wrapping it tightly around her frame. The corridor is empty and the house itself completely silent but she thinks nothing of it as she clings to the wall until she reaches the staircase, which she navigates gingerly. They all had a very traumatizing night, with Matt waking them up at three in the morning screaming for a doctor. The poor things are probably quite upset and she promises herself she'll talk to them soon. As soon as she makes sure Matt doesn't need her first.

She rounds the corner and finds the corridor where his study is located filled with children – Iris, Hobbs, and Parker among them – hovering outside the door. Frowning, she asks, "What's going on here?"

They turn to look at her with stricken faces and Alex draws herself up a little taller, determined to show them she's just fine, even if she feels anything but. Hobbs is the one to finally step forward. "Should you be out of bed, Mistress?"

"I'm perfectly fine, dear." A blatant lie that Hobbs recognizes instantly, if the pursing of her lips is any indication, but she knows better than to question Alex again. "Now why are you all standing about? Where is your Master?"

Hobbs glances at the door to Matt's study and bites her lip. "He shut himself away after he put you to bed, Missus. Made an ungodly ruckus – throwing things about, I imagine."

Alex casts a worried glance at the door along with everyone else, a lump forming in her throat. "Is he alright?"

Hobbs shrugs. "I suppose so. Just upset. The noise stopped about an hour ago but we hadn't dared try to check on him just yet."

Pressing a hand against the wall next to her for balance, Alex draws in a deep, steadying breath and lets it out through her nose, struggling against tears. "Thank you all for staying with him," she says softly. "But I'll take it from here. Get some rest."

Hobbs looks like she wants to protest but one look at Alex's tired but determined face changes her mind. She deflates, nodding. "I'll make you breakfast in an hour, ma'am."

Alex nods her thanks, waiting patiently as her childish staff files by her one by one, most of them stopping to hug her gently around the waist or to press a kiss to her cheek. She accepts them all gratefully but when Parker wraps his arms around her and buries his face in her stomach to hide his tears, she can't help but give in to her own, hugging the boy tightly to her.

"I'm sorry, Missus," he croaks. "I don't mean to upset you."

"It's alright, dear. Don't cry – the baby is still with us, hmm?" She presses one hand to her heart

and the other over his, smiling tremulously. "He's still in here."

He nods, sniffling.

"Go sleep now," she urges gently, smoothing his dark hair from his brow. "We'll be alright."

One of the older boys is waiting for him at the end of the hall, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and leading Parker away when he reaches him. Alex takes a moment outside the door to compose herself, wiping at her cheeks and straightening her shoulders. Matt is upset enough without seeing her like this.

When she opens the door, the study looks like a madman broke in with the sole purpose of destroying absolutely everything. Busted glass, torn papers and shredded books litter the floor. His heavy mahogany desk is turned over on its side, the contents of the drawers spilled out, the inkwells upended and staining the expensive rug. She stands in the doorway taking it all in, a hand pressed to her mouth. He'd been so quiet, so gentle with her. He'd saved his rage for when he could be alone. Her husband is so inept when it comes to his emotions – she should have known instead of crying like her, he would get angry.

It takes her only a moment to locate Matt, sitting in the middle of the wreckage, his back pressed against a now empty bookshelf. He looks a rumpled mess, his nightshirt wrinkled and stained with her blood, his hair unkempt. Staring off into the distance with a half-empty bottle of brandy in hand, he doesn't even seem to notice her.

Alex clears her throat softly.

He jerks his head up to look at her, lips parting in surprise. "You shouldn't be out of bed," is all he manages to say.

"I needed to find my husband," she says. "I can't sleep without him."

He takes a long, slow pull from the bottle. "I'm sorry," he says, glancing away. "I'll clean up the mess, pet -"

"You think I care about any of this?" She gestures around them with a tearful scoff. "I care about you, darling. You are my priority. I want to know why you're here instead of upstairs with me, where you should be."

He swallows thickly, eyes trained on the hem of her dressing gown. "I didn't want you to see me like this."

"What? Mad?" She manages a thin smile. "I hate to be the one to tell you, my love, but I have already seen you at your worst and I'm still here."

He shakes his head, lifting dark eyes to hers. "Not like this. Not -"

"It's okay to be angry, Matt."

"You're not."

"Who says we have to grieve the same way?" She reaches for his hand and he holds tightly to it, helping her to sink to the floor and sit next to him. She curls herself into his side, her head on his shoulder, and he gathers her close, his lips against her temple. He smells strongly of brandy but she holds him to her like she'll never let go. "But don't shut me out, darling. Don't hide from me. If we're going to get through this, it has to be together."

"All those children," he finally says, voice low and dangerously soft. "The ones I bring home because their parents abandoned them. The orphanages filled with unwanted babes. People who don't deserve children have them every day."

Alex says nothing, threading her fingers through his hair.

"And you." He stops, swallowing, hands clenching into fists. "You deserve to have a child more than anyone and you can't. I learned a long time ago that the world isn't fair but you shouldn't. You should have everything."

"Oh, darling." She takes his fists in her hands, uncurling them tenderly and pressing her lips to his fingertips. He curls his hands around her head and kisses her, a brief, but hard clash of mouths. Gasping when he pulls away to bury his face in the crook of her neck, Alex rests her chin atop his head and breathes, "I love you."

He tightens his arms around her, her silent but strong darling.

"And you know," she says after a moment, "Perhaps we're not meant to have a child of our own for a reason." Matt says nothing. He may not agree with her but he'll let her cling to the belief if she needs to. She drops a kiss into his hair, sweeping a thumb over the back of his neck. "We're parents without children. Perhaps our role is to look after the children without parents. We fit."

"And that's enough for you?" Matt lifts his head, studying her intently.

"Not now, no," she admits, reaching up a hand to cup his cheek. "Right now I'm hurting just as much as you are, my love. But eventually – one day – I believe it will be enough for both of us."

Her bottom lip trembles and Matt captures it between his own, kissing her softly. She wraps her arms around his neck, hiding her face in his chest, and he drops his face into her hair. As outside, a late afternoon rain begins to fall on the moors and wind rattles the panes, Lord and Lady Smith curl up together in the middle of the wreckage and grieve – together.

you are made of deeper stuff than the earth can give

Chapter Summary

Now that people know about Nora, she isn't about to hide away from one angry client. Hiding, she often tells Matt, is a sign of weakness.

Chapter Notes

Originally written as a CONGRATS YOU'RE GOING TO GRAD SCHOOL gift for Kazza. Story title from Letter from Hades to Persephone by Clementine Von Radics.

Usually, when Matt is entertaining a client, Alex tries to stay out of his way. He never does business with them for more than an hour or two and it always helps him breathe a little easier knowing she's out of sight and therefore out of mind. Of course, it was relatively easy to stay tucked away in their chambers or chatting with Hobbs in the kitchen before.

Alex can't help the smile that comes to her face as she thinks of the reason why staying out of sight isn't always possible now. Nora slips her little hand into hers, bouncing happily on her toes as they make their way from the kitchen. They'd waited as long as they could but Nora simply had to have her afternoon snack and was quite ready to pitch a fit if she didn't get it. Now, perfectly sedated with one of Hobbs' biscuits in hand, she follows Alex willingly.

To get back upstairs without taking the servant staircase, they have to walk through the entrance hall and the sound of angry voices reaches their ears the closer they get. "You can't just take everything! Do you have any idea who I am?"

"A desperate man who needed money, that's all any of you ever are to me," Matt snaps. "Nameless, faceless, desperate cattle."

Unused to hearing her father truly angry – his general manner of grumpiness amuses her endlessly but never before has she witnessed his cold rage – Nora sneaks anxious glances at Alex, fingers tightening their grip on her mother's hand. Alex attempts a reassuring smile and whispers, "Daddy's just a little angry, lovely. I'm sure seeing you will make it all better."

If it weren't for their rather eventful trip into town a few months ago – and the row that preluded it

in which Alex insisted they couldn't keep Nora hidden away on the moors forever while Matt snarled that yes they bloody well could – she might have turned around and taken the servant staircase instead. Now that people know about Nora, she isn't about to hide away from one angry client. Hiding, she often tells Matt, is a sign of weakness.

"You can't treat people like this," the other man spits in disgust, just as Alex and Nora stride into the entrance hall. "You're a monster."

Alex doesn't look up to see the man or the unhappy expression no doubt on Matt's face at the sight of them but out of the corner of her eye, she sees Benson with a hand on the man's elbow, clearly escorting him from the manor. She tightens her grip on her daughter's hand and keeps walking.

Nora, however, isn't so keen to keep a low profile. Half-eaten biscuit clutched in her hand and chewing on a mouthful, she stamps her little foot and glares at the client. "Daddy not a monster." She bares her teeth, the little heathen. "You are, shouty man."

Alex cringes, tugging her daughter along hurriedly. The damage has been done, of course, and the man's attention is focused solely on Matt's wife and child. "You should be careful how you treat your clients, Lord Smith."

Benson yanks him by the elbow with an angry grunt and Matt takes a step forward. Though she can't see his face, Alex imagines his eyes dark and his mouth a thin, menacing line. She pauses, gripping Nora's wrist, and listens.

"It would be a real tragedy if something happened to your sweet little family," he says. "Especially your little girl. Who knows what people would do to a pretty thing like that, if you made them angry enough -"

He doesn't get another chance to speak – Benson fists a hand around the back of his collar and chokes the rest of the words from his throat. Before Matt can even reach him to inflict further damage, Alex lets go of Nora's hand and crosses the room, shoving the man against the front door, satisfied when his head smacks against the wood hard enough to make him flinch.

"How dare you," she hisses. "How dare you come into my home and threaten my child, you evil ill-bred scum." He attempts to push away from the door but Benson curls a meaty hand around his shoulder to keep him in place and Alex jabs an angry finger at his chest. "If any harm ever comes to my little girl, I will hold you personally responsible. I will hunt you down like a blood-thirsty hound and I will not rest until I have used your entrails as garden fertilizer and buried your putrid, eviscerated body so deeply in the moorlands that no one but the fog will ever find you again." She

glares up at him, cheeks flushed and green eyes narrowed on his pale, stricken face. "You have no idea who you are dealing with and I am not referring to my husband, do I make myself clear?"

Stunned into silence and staring down at the formidable woman pinning him to the door, the man doesn't respond for a long moment. Behind them, Matt stares at the back of her head hungrily and Nora finishes her biscuit, unaffected by her mother's display as she skips up to her father and clings to his hand.

Finally, Matt's client manages a tense nod, swallowing.

Alex pokes his chest again. "Say it then."

He gulps. "I understand."

"I understand what?"

His eyes widen and he stutters out, "I understand, Lady Smith."

"Good." She nods once and steps away, dusting off her hands on her skirts as she glances at Benson. "Get him out of my sight and off my property."

"Gladly, Mistress," Benson mutters, and hauls the man out the front door by the collar of his shirt.

Alex sighs as the door shuts behind them, turning to face her husband and daughter. "What a detestable, horrid little toad -"

The rest of her sentence is swallowed up by Matt's mouth on hers in a hard, bruising kiss, his hands clutching either side of her face as he attempts to eat her alive. She can barely breathe but she doesn't fight him, gripping his collar and opening her mouth beneath his ardently, happy to let him devour her whole in his passion. She gasps for air when he finally parts from her mouth, his hands roaming over her bodice as he breathes harshly into her neck, leaving a trail of biting kisses along her throat. "My god," he growls. "You are glorious."

She tilts her head to the side, eyes fluttering shut, utterly lost in his ardor until the sound of little hands clapping reaches her ears and Nora giggles. "Do it again, Mummy! Act like Daddy again!"

She laughs as Matt huffs and steps away from her breathlessly, a bright flush on his cheekbones as he turns to eye their daughter. "What do you mean 'act like daddy?'" He scowls down at her but Nora grins, offering him the last bite of her biscuit. With a growl of annoyance, Matt stoops to scoop her up into his arms, settling her on his hip. "I'm much scarier than your mother."

Nora looks at him dubiously and Alex smothers a grin in the palm of her hand. "Silly," she declares him, and pecks his cheek.

His shoulders slump and he looks despairingly at Alex.

Leaning into his side with a loving smile, she kisses the cheek that Nora hadn't and murmurs, "Don't worry, darling. You're still our grumpy bugger."

"Bugger!" Nora repeats.

Matt glares at her and Alex bites her lip guiltily. "Why don't you go back to the kitchen and have another biscuit with Hobbs? Tell her she's to look after you until I come back to fetch you, alright?"

Nora allows him to set her back on her feet again and frowns up at him. "Leaving?"

He shakes his head. "Only upstairs." He smirks. "I need to teach your mother some manners."

Alex whacks his arm, blushing.

this is how one foot sinks into the ground

Chapter Summary

It starts when Alex wins an argument. Not, Matt surmises with a disgruntled frown, that she doesn't usually win most of their arguments.

Chapter Notes

I have quite a few completed ficlets like these that I'll be posting in the next few weeks if people are still interested - it seemed silly to have written them for nothing *shrugs* Story title from Persephone, Falling by Rita Dove.

It starts when Alex wins an argument. Not, Matt surmises with a disgruntled frown, that she doesn't usually win most of their arguments. But this one had been hard fought by both of them and only ended when Alex threatened to wait until he left on a business trip before venturing into town with Nora on her own. The thought had so horrified him that Matt had relented immediately. He could do everything within his power to ensure the safety of his wife and the little girl recently place into their care while he's home but when he's away, he has every confidence that Alex would sneak away from Benson and steal a horse just to prove a point.

It isn't that he doesn't want Nora to go into town, it's that he doesn't want town to know Nora exists. He doesn't want anyone – especially those who have cause to hold a grudge against him – to know that not only does he have a wife he values above all else, but a precious daughter too. They are the only ones he cares about in this world, besides his daft sister, and he will do everything in his power to keep them from harm. And that means keeping Nora away from the prying eyes of, well, everyone.

In the carriage slowly rattling its way far from the moors and into the nearest town, Alex eyes him with amused concern. "Darling, you look ill. Are you quite sure you wouldn't rather remain at the manor?"

He glares and she stifles a smile, turning to look at Nora sitting beside her. Dressed in a pretty red gown to match her mother's, she swings her little legs over the seat and hums quietly to herself, arranging her petticoats with fascination. She still isn't quite used to wearing all the finery that comes with having a wardrobe of more than one thin peasant dress. Matt still scowls when he thinks of the rags her relatives dressed her in.

Smoothing her long dark hair from her forehead, Alex leans in close and says, "Sweetheart,

Daddy looks quite glum. Why don't you sit with him and cheer him up, hmm?"

Nora glances up, brow wrinkled adorably, and Matt struggles not to look as volatile and on edge as he feels. Seeing right through him anyway, Nora hops from her seat next to Alex and clambers onto his, struggling in her skirts until she climbs onto his lap and sits primly, gazing up at him shyly through her lashes. It's impossible not to melt but Alex is watching him closely and he so hates to prove her right. Reaching up, Nora pats his cheek lightly and confides in a whisper, "Don't be scared. Hold hands?"

Alex bites back a snort and glances out the carriage window, a hand over her mouth.

Sighing, Matt allows himself a thin smile and taps his little girl – his little girl, still such a strange, foreign concept – on the nose. "That would be splendid."

She beams up at him and then leans back, snuggling into his chest for the duration of the ride. Town is bustling, as usual, teeming with people. Matt helps his wife and child from the carriage with his teeth clenched, already tense. He puts his top hat onto his head, allows Alex to slip her arm through his, and waits until she has a firm grip on Nora's hand before he starts to lead them along down the street.

The image of his dark, tall figure stalking down the street is enough of a deterrent for most, and quite a few people scurry to the other side of the street at the sight of him. It makes him feel a little better but it's only when Alex glances up at him with a reassuring smile that he begins to relax. "It's going to be fine," she murmurs, and then offers a smile to a passerby. Matt feels simultaneously guilty and proud when the man flinches away from her. "We can't hide her forever, you know."

He frowns. "We could certainly try."

"Oh stop it," she huffs, smiling. "I'm just going to browse a bit. We'll be here an hour at the most, and then we'll be off. Think you can manage not to terrify everyone in the meantime?"

Not really, no.

Alex sighs like she knows the answer too. "Just don't hit anyone. Or entice anyone into hitting you."

"Yes, fine. I'm hardly some sort of barbarian," he snaps.

"Of course not." She frowns. "But I know your temper."

He tightens his grip on her arm, fingers stroking her elbow in a silent promise to be on his best behavior. The stares are not subtle, and though most people are terrified of Matt, they're wary of Alex too. He can't begin to understand why, the woman is sunshine incarnate and he is the dark cloud hovering at her side, always moments from bursting and showering them all with lightning and rain. Nora, on the other hand, is on the receiving end of many a curious, fascinated stare as she skips along at Alex's side, happily oblivious to the scrutiny. Matt grits his teeth and stifles the urge to snarl at everyone who looks at her.

They walk along the street window shopping for a time, Matt making mental notes to come back later to make purchases whenever Alex or Nora stand too long in front of a certain display, admiring something shiny in the window. Hands and nose pressed against the glass in front of a toy store, Nora stares inside at a delicate porcelain doll with a painted face, eyes wide. "Mummy, look," she breathes, and Matt's heart still thrills to hear a child call Alex that.

By the look on her face, Alex loves it too. She leans in close and smoothes back Nora's hair, staring in the window along with her. "I see," she says softly. "It's beautiful."

Nora nods, still entranced.

Alex smiles and takes her hand. "Come along, lovely. Sit with Daddy for a bit."

Frowning, Matt allows her to shuffle Nora close to him. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere," she says loud enough for Nora to hear. "Just want to look at some fabric next door and you'll both be terribly bored if you tag along."

Satisfied, Nora slips a hand into Matt's coat pocket, fishing for sweets.

Leaning into him, Alex straightens his cravat and whispers, "I want her to have the doll."

He nods, lips twitching. "Buy it then. I would have if you didn't."

"She's going to be frightfully spoiled, isn't she?" Alex looks positively giddy at the thought and Matt wishes for nothing more than to ignore propriety and public opinion of him to kiss her breathless. "We have a child to spoil. Can you imagine?"

"We have dozens of children to spoil, pet," he says, eyes dropping to her mouth without thought. "In case you've forgotten the ungodly amount of sweets you just bought for the lot of them."

"Oh hush, you know what I mean." She grins. "This one is ours – legally and bindingly ours. Now stay here with her while I buy her something pretty."

Before he can stop her, she leans up on her toes and kisses the corner of his mouth, hurrying away in a rustle of skirts and a giggle. Matt ducks his head just in case he looks as flushed as he feels, very conscious of the stares around him. He keeps an eye on Nora from under the brim of his top hat, watching her unwrap one of the chocolates she'd taken from his coat pocket and pop it into her mouth.

She hands the wrapper back to him and he slips it into his pocket with a patient sigh. Nora is a squirmy little thing, never sitting still long. She lingers at his side for only a moment before wandering along the sidewalk, placing one foot in front of the other as she tries to balance on her toes. Matt watches her like a hawk, prepared to call her back should she stray too far.

She twirls, eyes on the skirt of her dress as she watches her petticoats swirl around her knees. "Pretty!" She calls out, delighted.

Matt tips his hat at her and she beams.

Lingering on her little form as she goes back to walking on her toes again, Matt drops his gaze for only a moment, slipping a hand into his inner coat pocket for his watch. Alex is taking far too long and he's getting just as restless as their toddler. He hates town. He ventures into it when he must, to collect payments and make deals, to buy trinkets for his wife. He conducts his business here and he leaves as quickly as possible. People put him in such a foul mood.

A childish cry startles him into glancing up and the moment he spots Nora on the ground and holding her scraped knee, he curses himself for looking away from her for even an instance. "Daddy," she sobs, tears rolling down her cheeks.

It seems the entire street freezes, staring at him and his daughter in dumbfounded silence. For the first time Matt can remember, he doesn't really care what anyone else thinks of him. He doesn't care about his reputation, he doesn't care that people will talk. The moment Nora calls for him, he's at her side in an instant, scooping her up into his arms and cradling her to his chest. "Shh," he murmurs, rocking her soothingly, a hand sliding up and down her back. "Don't cry, poppet. It's all right. You're fine."

She cries into his neck, arms wrapped around him. "My knee, Daddy."

"What have I told you about skipping about on your toes, you clumsy thing?" He asks, shifting her in his arms to take a look. He can tell that it must have hurt but the scrape is nothing that will need special attention. "Look at that," he says softly, directing her gaze down. "Not even bleeding, is it?"

Nora shakes her head, sniffling.

The little bell above the door of the toyshop jingles and Matt looks up to find Alex strolling out with a smile, her purchase in hand. Her face falls at the sight of Nora's tears and she rushes up to them with her brow furrowed in concern. "Oh, my poor love, what's happened?"

"Scraped her knee," Matt answers, passing Nora off to her mother and letting Alex soothe the little girl with a cuddle and her surprise gift. He straightens his coat and fixes a scowl firmly in place but as judging, calculating eyes slowly slide away from him, he knows it doesn't matter. The damage has already been done.

Laura's incensed letter arrives within a fortnight, complaining that she had to hear of her niece's existence by word of mouth instead of her own brother. Matt barely has time to think about penning an apology and reluctantly offering to house her and her new husband for a brief visit before she shows up on their doorstep unannounced, James and an alarming number of bags in tow.

He follows her and her husband up the stairs, enduring Laura's scolding until she pauses for breath. "How long are you planning to stay?"

Laura whirls on him with a glare. "As long as it takes to get to know my niece. Honestly, Matty, how can you adopt a little girl and not tell your sister?"

"We've not told anyone," he sighs. "You're hardly special."

James shuffles past nervously, carrying their bags into the guest room.

She huffs. "Tell that to my sewing circle. They all knew." Matt pushes away the uneasiness that follows those words and scowls at his sister. Undeterred, she crosses her arms over her chest. "Now where is the little darling?"

"Napping," he says, frowning. "You will meet her at dinner. And in two days, you will leave."

Laura narrows her eyes at him. "Five."

"Two."

"Four."

"Two."

"Three."

"Two."

She growls at him and bites out, "Fine."

With a triumphant smirk, he leaves his sister and her husband to get settled, managing to hide in his study and avoid them until Parker comes to fetch him for dinner. He goes upstairs to change his jacket and cravat, irrationally annoyed when Alex isn't in their bedroom dressing. He always tries to time it so that he walks in before she has slipped into her gown.

He changes alone tonight and heads to the dining room to join his sister and brother-in-law, mood dropping further when he sees Alex's chair still empty. Laura glances up at his arrival, smoothing

her napkin over her lap. "There you are," she scolds. "Late to dinner in your own home. I thought Alex was supposed to improve your manners."

"The only thing my wife has improved is my ability to tolerate you," he replies snippily. What is it about her presence that makes him feel like an annoyed twelve-year-old boy?

Laura laughs aloud. "And bless her for it."

Nodding his thanks when Hobbs places a glass of wine in front of him, James asks, "How is your lovely wife? I imagine she's quite beside herself having a little one to look after."

"Him too," Laura says with a smirk. "He doesn't take in orphans because he's bored. He adores children, though he'll never say."

He scowls. "I do not."

Laura looks smug. "See?"

Hobbs puts a glass of wine in front of him, pointedly not looking at him. He sighs, feeling a twinge of regret. "You know what I mean."

She nods, smiling a little. "Yes, Sir."

His sister's smirk deepens.

Matt glares. "Hobbs, fetch your mistress."

"Don't bother, I'm right here." Alex sweeps into the room carrying Nora in her arms and Laura jumps from her seat with a squeal of delight, wringing her hands. "Sorry we're late. Someone didn't want to wake up."

Nora still looks sleepy but Alex had dressed her impeccably, her little dress pressed and spotless, her long dark hair plaited intricately down her back. Laura stares at her like one might a

particularly delicate china doll. "Oh good lord," she breathes. "She is absolutely enchanting, Alex. Just gorgeous."

Alex smiles widely, every inch the proud mother, and settles Nora on her feet, bending to her level. "This is our little Lenora. Nora, this is Auntie Lor. Can you say hello?"

Laura crouches in front of her as well, beaming. "Hello there. I'm your daddy's sister."

Eyeing her distrustfully, Nora mumbles, "'Lo."

Cooing in adoration, Laura fiddles with Nora's braid. "You are just the loveliest thing I've ever seen. Oh, look at you!"

"What do you say?" Alex nudges her gently.

Nora flushes. "Thank you?"

Alex laughs softly. "Very good."

Making a little wailing noise into her hand, Laura looks at James over her shoulder and the young man pales considerably under her gaze. "James, I want one."

Gasping, Alex lays a hand on her arm. "Oh, you would be such a lovely mother, Laura. And your children would be beautiful, can you imagine?"

The two launch into a gleeful discussion of gender, names, and the possibility of Laura and James moving a little closer to Matt and Alex so their children can play together. James turns to look at Matt with undisguised panic, apparently under the impression that he and his brother-in-law share some sort of camaraderie. Matt shrugs unhelpfully and reaches for his wine.

James continues to stare at him, paler by the second.

The thought of the man being ill at the table finally sways Matt and he sighs. "Pet, dinner is

getting cold."

"Right, of course." Alex helps Nora into her chair and Laura returns to her place next to James, dropping her napkin back onto her lap.

The moment Alex slips into her seat next to him, Matt feels his jaw slowly starting to unclench. It's a little worrying at times how her absence sets him on edge, and how quickly her presence calms him. He would never tell her, but he suspects she knows anyway. As Laura and James begin to gently interrogate Nora on her favorite color, whether she likes to ride horses, and whether Matt ever actually smiles, he begins to cut into his chicken with a muttered, "Where have you been?"

Alex presses a hand to his thigh under the table. "I dressed early so I could help Nora dress as well. She doesn't like Iris to do it." She squeezes his thigh gently. "Sorry, darling."

He harrumphs, knowing he'll just have to get used to the change in their routine. That's what children do, he realizes. Disrupt routines. He glances at Nora, poking at her chicken and shyly answering the questions her aunt and uncle direct at her, and thinks that it's rather worth it to have her. Linking his hand with his wife's beneath the table, he says, "You'll make it up to me."

Alex winks.

After Laura and James leave them with promises to visit and send Nora numerous pretty baubles, Matt cannot shake the unease in his heart. He spends hours a day for a week pacing the length of his study, listening to the sounds of Alex and Nora playing in the garden outside his window and wondering why he feels as though his world – their world – is no longer safe.

When he married Alex, he had the same feeling. Like the most precious thing in his world was at risk. His choice of career means the majority of people within a hundred mile radius hate him but before Alex, he had nothing anyone could use to hurt him. He fell in love with her the moment he saw her, standing in the doorway of her parents parlour, the skirt of her dress caked in mud, and he's had one beautiful weakness ever since. It was exploited once and only once, when she wandered too far out on the moors by herself. Matt had made an example of the man and nothing has happened since. He's done everything to keep her safe, making sure she always has someone to look after her when she ventures outside, arming her with a dagger and teaching her how to use it.

He stops pacing and goes to the window, peering around the drapes. Alex has Nora by the hand, guiding her to touch the petals of a delicate lily. Nora beams up at her and mouths something that looks suspiciously like for daddy? Alex nods, laughing, and his mind drifts to the drawer full of flowers all in varying degrees of decay locked away in his desk. Nora brings him one nearly every day and he can't bring himself to throw any of them away.

His latest weakness has taken the form of a helpless little girl. She is a brand new chink in his armor, one that some miserable, petty bastard will no doubt try very hard to exploit. Matt presses his hand to the window and watches his daughter carefully tuck her flower away into the pocket of her dress. It's Alex who catches his eyes, glancing up and finding him at the window watching them. Her brow furrows and he knows she's been fretting over him for the past several days. He can't bring himself to tell her he's worried about Nora. He's sure she already knows.

Managing a thin smile, he releases the drapes and steps away from the window, turning back to his study. They need someone with them at all times and he knows Benson can't be that man, nor any of the older boys in his employ – they have other duties to attend to. Parker is still too young. Matt does his best to be that person but he can't always be near them. There is only one course of action left.

One of his more trustworthy contacts procures the animal for him within another week and brings it to town. Matt meets him there to survey the brute before taking it home. If Nora spots it, she'll refuse to give it up even if it looks like a pathetic excuse for a pup. He needs a forbidding watchdog – something that will strike fear into hearts on sight. The animal that greets him in the town square certainly fits the bill but as Matt inspects the dog carefully, he worries Nora might be too frightened of him.

Crouched in front of him, Matt studies the coarse gray coat, long, gangly legs and gentle brown eyes with skepticism. "How is he with children?"

His contact shrugs. "Never been around them, Sir. But he's a gentle soul until provoked."

"Fully grown?"

"Two years old, Sir."

"Must have a name, then," Matt observes, glancing up with a raised brow.

"My apologies. Alastor, Sir."

After spending another several minutes scrutinizing the dog, Matt pays his contact and leads the dog to his carriage. Those in his path scurry out of the way, and though he can't be sure it isn't just him they're avoiding, he imagines the giant beside him is a helpful deterrent. His contact had been correct, however. The dog seems almost mild-mannered, resting his head on Matt's lap for the duration of the ride.

"Nothing but a great puppy, aren't you?" He sighs, watching the dog blink up at him. "Let's hope your size will be enough of a warning."

He'd been concerned Nora might be too frightened of him due to Alastor's size but the moment he returns home and the dog jumps out of the carriage after him, Nora falls in love. Jumping up and down, clapping her hands, she stands in the doorway of the manor with Alex, eyes wide with delight. "A puppy!" She tugs on her mother's skirts. "Mine?"

Alex shrugs, lips pursed as Matt strolls toward them, the dog trotting at his side. "Ask your father."

Approaching with soft, careful steps, Nora eyes the dog warily, reaching out a small hand toward his nose. Alastor sniffs her fingers and then licks them, making Nora wrinkle her nose and giggle. "Mine, Daddy?"

Matt strokes a finger over her brow and nods. "Yours."

She squeals, throwing her arms around Alastor's neck. Matt watches in amusement as Alastor sits and allows himself to be nearly strangled to death by a toddler, calmly taking the abuse. "Not exactly formidable, is he?" He glances at his wife, noticing for the first time how displeased she looks. "What's the matter?"

Alex takes his hand, tugging him a few steps from their daughter and her new best friend before hissing, "He's taller than Nora! She has to reach up to pet him! What on earth were you thinking, darling?"

He turns back to look at them with a frown. "But she loves him."

Sighing, Alex squeezes his fingers gently. "Of course she does. He's a gift from you. But why would you get a dog like that – what is it, anyway?"

"Irish Wolfhound," he supplies.

"Why would you buy such a massive dog for your toddler? If you were so determined to get her a pet, why not a kitten or a lap dog -" Alex stops suddenly, falling silent and staring at him with a look of dawning comprehension. "Because he isn't for her entertainment, is he? He's for her protection."

"Alex -" She sets her jaw, shaking her head, and his throat tightens as he realizes she is truly angry with him. "Pet," he tries again.

"You never said a word. You never say anything. You just buy gifts like knives and bloody great dogs, and expect me not to be terrified -"

"I'm trying to protect you!" He pulls her into him, hands gripping her waist. Alex gazes up at him, her green eyes tear filled and angry. "I'm not going to let anything happen to either of you -"

"You think I'm afraid for us?" She shakes her head, pushing at his chest. "You would rather die than let anything happen to me or Nora. I know that. And I will certainly die before anyone ever lays a hand on her. But people hate you enough to be provoked into such violence." She lifts a hand to his cheek, biting her lip. "I'm scared for you."

"Don't be. I've been looking after myself for a long time." He takes her hand from his cheek and kisses her knuckles. "But I promised you when we decided we wanted to keep Nora with us, that I would do everything in my power to make sure she remained unharmed. That is what I'm doing now, understand?"

"But darling, he's massive." She glances over her shoulder at Nora tugging on Alastor's tail and calls out, "Be gentle, Nora. Gentle with the puppy!" She turns back to Matt, frowning, and he rather loves how vehement she looks as she says, "He could eat her."

"Don't be ridiculous. She's much too small – she'd be a mere snack."

Alex frowns at him.

Lips twitching, he leans in and brushes his mouth against hers, delighting in the way she presses against his chest and returns the kiss with ease, as if she'd never been angry at all. He threads a hand through her hair, cradling her to him as he murmurs, "Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it."

"What?"

"My job." He swallows, winding a curl around his finger. "I could stop, you know. Do something respectable."

"What? Like banking?" She snorts, fingers gripping the lapels of his coat. "You would be miserable and you know it. Besides, it wouldn't help. The people angry enough and dense enough to come after you or your family are not rational beings. Just because you decide to pursue another path doesn't mean they will."

He frowns, strangely warmed by her logic. She always manages to make him see reason; he has no idea why he continues to hide things from her. He tries to shield her from the more unsavory parts of his career but he forgets sometimes just how strong she is. Nuzzling her hair, he sighs. "I could try being…nicer."

"No, you can't."

Insulted, he nips at her ear.

Alex gasps, giggling.

"I could be nice," he grumbles testily.

Pulling back, she kisses his cheek, trailing her mouth along his jaw just lightly enough to make him shudder. "Of course you can. You're utterly charming when you want to be. I meant you literally can't be nice." She straightens his cravat, humming in approval. "Your clients would walk all over you. They have to be afraid of you. It's part of what makes you so good at what you do." She furrows her brow, looking lovely and flushed as she leans in until the tip of her nose touches his, a grin threatening to overtake her whole face. "I shouldn't like it, you know."

Matt gathers her close once more, crushing her mouth to his in a brief, hard kiss. "But you do."

"So very much," she sighs, fingers coyly toying with the buttons of his coat. "Horrid man."

"Mummy! Daddy!" Nora calls out, giggling. "A pony!"

They turn as one to find that Nora has climbed onto poor Alastor's back, her arms around his neck to keep her balance as she makes him trot about like a horse. Alex sighs gustily, leaning back into Matt, and he wraps his arms around her waist, letting her curls tickle his cheek. "Well, I suppose we have to keep him now."

Relief floods him and he kisses the back of her head, whispering, "Thank you."

Watching Alex prepare for another visit from her parents is a bit like watching a chicken run about flapping its wings after its head has been cut off. Or perhaps more like one of his clients scrambling to come up with some sort of payment when he raps his cane against their door. Lurking in the doorway of the parlor while she inspects the mantle for dust and fluffs the cushions on the settee, he asks dryly, "Why do we bother paying the staff to clean if you're just going to go right behind them again?"

"Oh hush," she says, whirling to the mirror hanging over the mantle to inspect her hair. It's up today because apparently her mother and father count as polite company. He's been in a foul mood since he sat on their bed this morning and watched her at her vanity, pinning her wild hair into something resembling respectability. "You're just cross about my hair."

Startled, his frown deepens and he crosses his arms over his chest. "It doesn't suit you."

She smiles, waltzing up to him with swishing skirts and outstretched hands. "You're very rude," she says, straightening his waistcoat. "I don't know why I tolerate you."

"I make up for it," he says, sliding his hands up her back.

Grinning, she dances out of reach of his questing fingers. "Ah ah. Do not even think of touching these hair pins, darling. Not until tonight behind closed doors." She winks. "It'll be a reward for your good behavior."

He scowls, pushing away from the doorframe and stalking out of the parlor, hearing her follow after him, her silk slippers patting softly against the floor. "I'll fetch Nora from the stables. She needs to dress."

"Oh, give her another moment with Benson. My parents will be a while yet." Alex catches the back of his waistcoat in her hand and tugs him back to her, smiling triumphantly.

He could get away easily enough but he stays put because it seems to please her so. "Yes, dearest?"

"Thank you." She leans in and kisses his chin. "For housing my parents for the week. I know you're not fond of the idea."

He was less fond of the idea of going to visit them. In fact, he refused. And he forbid Alex from taking Nora and traveling there alone but thankfully she'd been so reluctant to leave him again that she hadn't put up much of a fight. She was absolutely insistent that they meet their grandchild before word reached them that Lord and Lady Smith had acquired a little girl, and Matt had been left with no choice but to tell her to write to them and ask them to stay.

He has no hopes of getting along with her parents but he can't bring himself to deny them visits to see their daughter and granddaughter either. So instead he'll hide in his study for most of their visit and manage to sit through their vapid conversations during meal times by taking a sip of wine every time he wants to snap at them.

"I'm fond of you," is all he says.

Alex smiles. "More than fond, I hope."

"On occasion," he admits, mouth twitching.

A knock on the door keeps her from replying and as Parker hurries to let Mr. and Mrs. Kingston in, Alex slaps a hand over her mouth. "Heavens, I didn't even hear their carriage! They're early! Where is Nora? I haven't dressed her or -"

Matt tugs her hand from her mouth and kisses her silent. She sighs a little, swaying into him and

allowing him just a moment to make her forget about everything else. She tastes like the brandy he keeps in his study and it makes him smile against her mouth, knowing she's been sneaking some all morning because she's nervous. "My precious girl," he whispers, and she whimpers, pressing closer, her fingers curled tightly into his collar.

"Erm, Master? Mistress?"

Alex leaps from him at the sound of Parker's voice, blushing furiously when she realizes her parents are standing behind him. "Mother, Father," she says, wiping delicately at her mouth while Matt smirks at the floor. "Your timing continues to be impeccable."

"Mr. and Mrs. Kingston," Matt utters silkily, inclining his head.

Mrs. Kingston, as usual, eyes him frostily. "Would you like us to leave and come back at another time?"

"Of course not. Don't be silly." Alex smoothes her hands over her dress and manages a bright smile but Matt relishes the faint flush of her cheeks and the glittering of her eyes that tells him just what sort of effect he has on her. "How was your journey?"

"Oh, enough small talk," Mr. Kingston says with gruff impatience. "Where is my new grandchild?"

Alex laughs. "I thought you would be a few hours still so I'm afraid she isn't quite ready for polite company -"

Before she can explain further, the front door opens again and they listen to the sound of Nora shrieking with laughter and the soft padding of Alastor's paws on the wooden floorboards. The two of them charge into the room like a jockey on a horse, Nora wild haired and dirt streaked, reeking of horse. "Giddyup, horsey!" She shouts, long hair bouncing behind her as Alastor, the dutiful hound, gallops around the room. "Faster!"

Alex slips a hand over her eyes and bows her head, clearly caught between amusement and horror. Matt doesn't have such a difficult time deciding, watching Mr. and Mrs. Kingston gape at their grandchild with a wicked, barely stifled smirk.

When Alastor makes his round about the room and passes Matt, he bends quickly to scoop Nora

from his back, settling her on his hip. She clings to his neck, patting his cheek with a small hand. "Nora, these are your grandparents. Say hello."

She turns, noticing the strangers in the room for the first time, and instantly transforms into the shy little darling that had so charmed Laura and James. "Hi," she waves, and then blushes and turns her face into his neck.

Matt can see the exact moment Mr. and Mrs. Kingston melt into a little puddle of affection but with her head still bowed in mortification, Alex misses it. "She's been outside with the stable hand," she explains meekly. "I'll just take her upstairs. She'll be perfectly presentable by dinner, I promise -"

"Don't be daft, sweetheart," her mother says, stepping forward with her arms outstretched and her smile wide. "Look at her, she's perfect. Oh come here, little one. Let your grandmother have a look at you."

Mr. Kingston swats her away. "Come to your grandfather, my dear. I've got sweets in my pocket."

Nora slowly turns to study him carefully and he winks at her, reaching behind her ear and pulling out a sweet. Nora's eyes widen in fascination and when Anthony holds out his arms, she goes to him without a fuss. As her parents walk to the settee and begin to coo over Nora, Alex slips up to his side and threads her arm through his, a relieved smile on her face. "She smells of horse and came in riding a hound. I don't believe she could have made a worst first impression if she tried."

Matt lifts an eyebrow. "Takes after her father."

Swatting at his arm, Alex tugs him away with her and they leave the Kingstons to fawn over their grandchild, retreating to his study for brandy and a locked door.

Alex watches him almost sullenly, lips pursed and eyes tight with displeasure. In her arms and clinging to her neck, Nora pouts at him, jaw set firmly. For not being related in the slightest, they have never looked more like mother and daughter than they do right now, standing outside the manor with Matt as Benson prepares the horses for their carriage.

"Such glum faces." He huffs a soft laugh, cupping their cheeks in his gloved hands. "You act as if I've never gone into town for the day before."

Alex bristles, nuzzling into the supple leather of his glove. "That doesn't mean we have to like it when you leave."

Stroking a thumb over her cheek, he sighs. "You know I hate going. But debts have to be collected."

Biting her lip, she nods, reaching up to take his hand. "Just be careful, darling. And don't provoke unnecessarily."

He smirks. "That's what the stick is for."

She rolls her eyes.

Nora shakes a stern finger at him. "Be nice."

He captures her little wrist and presses a kiss to her finger with a wink. "I'll do my best, poppet." Behind them, Benson climbs onto the carriage bench, taking up the reins. Matt turns to Alex, reluctant to go just yet. "Are you sure you'll be alright? I can leave Benson here with you."

She shakes her head firmly. "I want you to have someone with you when you're collecting your debts. I've seen how violent people can get." Cuddling Nora closer and kissing her forehead, Alex smiles. "We'll be fine here. Alastor will look after us."

Matt drops his eyes to the hound standing dutifully at their side, clearly taking his guarding duties seriously. "He'd better."

Alex's smile widens at the warning in his voice. "Go on, then. The sooner you leave the sooner you come home."

Matt leans in and kisses Nora's forehead. "Behave for your mother."

She nods solemnly. "Behave for Benson."

He sighs, lips curling into a smile. "It's Benson who must behave for me, poppet." He turns his head to say goodbye to Alex but she doesn't give him a chance, leaning up on her toes and kissing him softly. He wraps her in his arms, cradling her face in his leather-gloved hands and returning her kiss greedily, stealing her breath and relishing her flushed cheeks when he pulls away. "I'll be back before dinner."

She nods, releasing him from her arms reluctantly and holding Nora close. "Be safe, my love."

He turns quickly from the sight of his girls and climbs into the carriage without looking back, knowing that if he does, he won't leave today. Collecting payment from his clients used to be his favorite part of his job. It meant an outlet for all the violent energy he kept pent up, it meant venturing into town and being around people because as much as he hated them and they hated him, it was still sometimes a preferable alternative to being alone. Now, however, what he leaves behind is so much better than any debt being repaid or any heads he might bash with his walking stick to get what he wants. What he leaves behind is far more precious than he ever thought he would have or deserve.

The trip into town passes quickly and Matt spends the journey staring out the window in silence, hand curled around his walking stick and his mind uneasy. They'll be fine, of course. A houseful of orphans isn't quite a deterrent for most but recently, he's taken a few teenage boys into his employ and they'll look after Alex and Nora. Alastor hasn't yet proven to be a formidable guard dog but his size would be enough to scare most anyone away. They'll be fine.

The first home he visits is that of Mr. John Perri, a local businessman who wasn't quite managing to make ends meet. So he came to Matt, begging for help. He's had three months to get back on his feet again and come up with a way to return what Matt loaned him, but Matt has yet to hear a word from him about repayment.

With Benson standing menacingly behind him, Matt lifts his cane and taps against the door. The drapes at one window part, a head peeks through and then quickly disappears. He listens with bored impatience to the usual hushed panic his visits cause, the sound of crashes and hissing voices until finally, a harried looking, petite brunette answers the door, peering around the frame cautiously.

"Mrs. Perri," Matt guesses, not bothering to remove his hat.

The woman nods warily. "May I help you, Lord Smith?"

He sighs. "I'm here to see your husband. He and I have a bit of business to attend to."

Mrs. Perri swallows uneasily, eyes darting between Matt and the hulking form of Benson behind him. "H-he isn't home, Sir. I'm afraid you'll have to come back later."

Humming thoughtfully, Matt listens to the sound of a window being forced open inside the house, and the clumsy bumbling of the fool trying to climb through it to get away. "Are you quite certain?"

Mrs. Perri pales but nods, trembling.

Tutting with disappointment, Matt flicks a hand over his shoulder.

Benson leaves him at once, slipping into the alley behind the townhouse. Mrs. Perri watches him go with a quiet whimper, wide eyes fastening on Matt. He raises a brow at her, smirking. "I hope you don't mind if I wait here. I believe he'll be home soon."

She sags against the doorframe, defeated.

After another moment, Benson rounds the corner again, hauling a struggling Mr. Perri by the collar of his shirt. He presents the man to Matt without a word, holding him in place so his employer can do what he will. Matt nods his thanks and eyes Mr. Perri disdainfully. "Having your wife lie for you?" He circles the man with contempt. "And I thought you couldn't possibly get any lower than the disgusting rat you already are, Perri."

Slumped in Benson's grip now, the profusely sweating Mr. Perri attempts a feeble glare. "You didn't give me much choice, showing up without warning like that. I don't have what you're looking for."

"You mean my money?" Matt prods almost gently at the man's ribs with the end of his walking stick. "Because that's what I'm looking for, Perri. The money I loaned you, like the charitable sort I am. We agreed upon three months before repayment, did we not, Perri?"

He nods grudgingly.

"And has it not been three months, my dear Perri?" He prods a little harder at his ribs, making the man flinch. "Have I not been unfailingly generous with you and your pathetic business?"

"Yes, of course you have, Lord Smith." Mr. Perri swallows thickly, trying and failing to flinch away from Matt's walking stick. "But you see, I owed more debts than just you and well, they've already collected their payments -"

Matt stops playing about and lands a blow against the man's ribs hard enough to hear bones crack. As Perri cries out and his wife wails in the doorway, Matt leans in close and hisses, "Are you trying to tell me you paid others before you paid me, Perri? You paid everyone you owed a bit of money and now you've got nothing left for me, is that it?"

Perri nods shakily, still wincing. "I'm sorry. Please, just give me another three months and I'll -"

Matt hits him again and he wheezes. "I don't make deals with liars, Perri. Do you know what I do with people who lie to me?" He raises his stick again, aiming for his face, and right on schedule, his wife screams and throws herself between them, clinging to her husband. Matt pauses, stick still in the air, and lifts a thin brow at her.

"Please," she babbles, sobbing at him and clearly quite close to getting on her knees. "Please just stop and I'll give you anything you want."

"Do you have money?"

She shakes her head.

"Then I fail to see how you can be of any use to me."

"I have jewelry," she says quickly, fumbling for her bracelet. She nearly flings it at him and then starts on her earrings. "I have lots of jewelry. You can have everything, just leave my husband be."

Matt inspects the diamond bracelet carefully to make sure it is in fact, of any value and not just a cheap trinket from a street market. It looks genuine, so he nods once and drops his cane. "Very well."

Husband and wife give a collective sigh of relief.

The rest of his house calls go much the same way, with varying degrees of violence and threats. He pockets his money or the expensive trinkets he confiscates on the occasions when he finds his clients really don't have the money to repay him, and goes on to the next unfortunate soul who owes him a debt. By late afternoon, his official business is concluded and he sends Benson back to the carriage, promising to be along shortly.

He takes the jewelry and other valuables to a dealer who pays him handsomely in exchange for the merchandise but he doesn't linger long to spend it, eager to get back home in time for dinner, as he'd promised. He stops briefly to pick up a music box for Nora and a hat Alex had admired the last time she'd accompanied him to town, but then quickly makes his way back to the carriage, where Benson waits to drive him home.

The journey back seems to take even longer than the trip into town this morning and Matt sits anxiously in the carriage as it rattles along, determined not to fidget. He's sure they're perfectly fine, probably playing in the garden or frolicking about on the moors with Alastor and Parker trotting along behind them. He has left Alex alone many times before and nothing has ever happened. In fact, he left her alone with Nora once before for three days while he visited clients several towns away. They were safe and sound when he finally made it back. But then, no one knew of Nora. Things are different now and he can't help the unease in his gut.

When they finally arrive, he leaves Benson to put away the horses and starts through the fog toward the manor, standing silent and grim in the distance. Alex and Nora are not outside and in fact, he can hear nothing but the sound of Alastor barking. Dread fills him and he quickens his stride, his heart picking up a rapid pace.

"They're fine," he mutters under his breath. He'll feel very paranoid and silly when he walks into the house and finds Alex writing letters to her family and Nora riding Alastor around like a pony again.

The front door opens with a creak when he pushes it and he steps into the house holding his breath. Somewhere in the direction of the parlour, Alastor is still barking like a mad thing. His heart leaps into his throat. Dropping Alex's hatbox by the door, Matt starts in the direction of the noise, calling out, "Alex?"

"In here, darling."

Relief floods him at the sound of her voice and he lengthens his stride, eager to see her safe and unharmed for himself. "What is all the noi -" He stops, frozen in the doorway, and takes in the sight before him. In the center of the room is a man he vaguely recognizes as a former client – Matt had taken his prized horses as payment just three weeks ago. A long, bloody gash across his face, he sits in an armchair now and does not move, bound and gagged, looking up at Matt with wide, terrified eyes.

Stunned, he turns his gaze to the teenage boy standing guard on one side of the chair and Alastor on the other, barking and growling in the man's face. "Alastor, enough," Matt snaps, and the dog falls quiet instantly, settling onto the floor with a huff.

He finally turns to look for Alex in the room and finds her huddled on the settee, clutching the dagger he'd given her in one hand and holding Nora on her lap with the other. Matt scans the girl quickly, sees that she's perfectly unharmed and munching on a biscuit, and lifts his gaze to Alex. She's completely composed, as calm as if she didn't have a man tied to a chair before her and a bloody dagger in hand.

"What the bloody hell happened here?" He bites out, confused and not liking it one bit. Alex keeps her eyes fastened on the man in the chair, unblinking. Frustrated, Matt whirls on the teenage boy and snaps, "Disher?"

"The ladies were in the garden, Sir. This one came up behind them and tried to attack Lady Smith. Erm, the smaller Lady Smith." Disher elbows the man in the chair in the back of the head, making him flinch. "But the erm, elder Lady Smith came at him with the dagger and Alastor barked enough to rouse the whole house. We found him chewing on his leg when we got outside."

Matt drops his eyes to the man's ankles, pleased to find them bloody and his trouser hems torn. "Good."

Disher nods. "We – I mean, me and a few other lads – took him into the house and Lady Smith ordered us to tie him up until you arrived."

Glowering at the man now completely at his mercy, Matt bares his teeth. "You did well, Disher. Thank you." Disher ducks his head in deference and Matt turns his attention once more to his wife, who still hasn't said a word. "Are you quite alright, pet? You can drop the dagger now. I don't believe he's going anywhere." He eyes the man again with contempt. "Ever again."

The man whimpers behind his gag.

Alex nods slowly. "I'm fine. Really."

She still doesn't drop the dagger or look at him.

He crosses the room slowly, eyes fixed on her. "Pet?" He ventures cautiously. Alex refuses to look at him, her face turned away and her eyes fixed on the floor. He crouches in front of her, squeezing Nora's knee briefly before prying the dagger from Alex's grip and tossing it away. Taking her hands in his, he laces their fingers together and says, "Alex, look at me."

She shakes her head stubbornly. "I need you to promise you won't be too angry."

Slowly feeling his heart climb back into his throat and lodge there, Matt tightens his grip on her hands and manages to say softly, "I will do no such thing. Look at me."

Alex draws in a shaky breath and finally tilts her face toward him and into the light. The moment he spots the livid bruise blossoming purple on her cheek, he sees nothing else. There's a faint roaring in his ears and his head begins to pound, aching with the sudden strain of clenching of his teeth.

"Darling, don't. He isn't worth it." Alex places a hand to his cheek, her voice urgent. "Matt, look at me. Don't -"

A red haze colors everything and he wrenches away from her touch to stand, whirling to the man bound in the chair. He can't even remember his name, just a faceless peasant who thought he could harm the ones Matt held dear as his petty retribution for a few horses. He is nothing now. He isn't even human, only a detestable insect Matt wants nothing more than to squash beneath his boot.

He's across the room before he even makes the conscious decision to take that first step and he barely hears Alex calling his name as he picks up his walking stick where he'd dropped it on the floor and raises it above his head, swinging with all his might. The man in the chair doesn't make a sound as the handle connects with his skull with a sickening crack. He doesn't even whimper, slumping like a rag doll.

Chest heaving in anger, Matt drops the walking stick again and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Alex cradling Nora to her chest, turning the child's head away. "Disher."

The young man steps forward, checking the loathsome creature's pulse. "Alive, Sir."

Good. He isn't nearly finished with him yet.

"Watch him."

Disher nods. "Yes, Sir."

"Feel better then?" Alex eyes him with disapproval.

"He had no right to even breathe the same air you do," he snaps. "Let alone touch you."

"I'm fine," she scowls. "But I won't be if you're dragged away on murder charges for a pathetic excuse for a life like his!"

He ignores her. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"Not a scratch," she promises softly.

He lifts Nora from her arms to hold her close, burying his face in her dark hair. "You're alright too?"

She nods, chocolate smeared across her mouth, and pokes at him. "Got angry," she whispers.

"Yes," he answers honestly, then hesitates. "You're not afraid of me, are you?"

Nora shakes her head and kisses his cheek. "Mummy's scarier."

Stifling an exasperated sigh, Matt presses his lips to her forehead. "It's time for bed, poppet."

"'lastor?" She pouts up at him and he caves instantly.

"Alright, but only for tonight. He belongs in the barn, not on the floor of your room." Matt snaps his fingers and Alastor rises from the floor, ambling to his side. "Find Iris and tell her to tuck you in. I'm going to look after Mummy, understand?"

"Don't be silly, Matthew." Alex stands slowly, looking weary. "I can put her to bed."

He frowns at her worriedly. "You need to rest."

"I'm fine." She lifts Nora into her arms, offering him a tired smile. "If you hadn't noticed, I'm not the one bleeding all over our Persian rug."

He nods, sliding a hand over her cheek tenderly, and Alex tilts her face into his palm, eyes slipping shut. "You were magnificent," he breathes, pride swelling warmly in his chest. "Absolutely formidable."

Her smile turns genuine now, bright and entirely pleased. "I was hoping you'd think so."

"I always think so," he confides softly, just loud enough for her alone to hear. She steps closer, pressed right against him, and he allows himself a moment to gather her into his arms and hold her as tight as he dares, the scent of lavender and silk enveloping him like the comforts of home.

She threads her fingers through his hair and presses her lips just below his ear, whispering, "Don't lose your temper, darling. He isn't worth it."

Instead of answering, he presses a firm, grateful kiss to her temple. "I'll be up soon."

Resigned, she strokes his hair one last time and sweeps from the room, Alastor following closely at her heels. Matt watches them disappear and listens to Alex's quiet footsteps on the stairs before he turns back to Disher. "You're dismissed."

Disher hesitates.

Matt sighs. "I'll be fine, son. Go."

Once the lad heads up the servants' staircase to his own room, Matt perches on the edge of the table in front of his former client. Shedding his jacket, he rolls up his shirtsleeves and picks up his cane once more, settling in to wait for his prey to wake up.

Before he turns in for the night, he peeks into Nora's room to make sure she's sleeping and finds her warm and safe beneath her blankets, Alastor curled up at the foot of her bed. He shakes his head fondly at the pair of them and sets the music box on her bedside table for her to find when she wakes. With a stroke of his hand over her forehead, he leaves her once more to peaceful dreams.

Their bedchamber is dark when he opens the door and he assumes Alex is already sleeping. He undresses quietly, navigating their room without a light and slipping into bed beside her. He lays there for a moment contemplating whether or not he wants to risk waking her by pulling her into his arms, and she asks into the darkness, "Did you kill him?"

He sighs. "No."

Alex lifts herself up onto her elbows, peering at him. "Why not?"

"Because you didn't wish it." He lifts a hand to the cheek he knows sports an unfortunate bruise and strokes his fingers reverently over it. "And he'll serve a better warning if he lives long enough to wander into town and show everyone the damage inflicted on him."

"Thank you." She nuzzles into his hand, her curls slipping around his fingers, and he feels her smile against his palm. "The last thing I want is to watch you be carried away to prison." She laughs softly. "My parents always say that's where you'll end up and I know how much you hate proving them right."

He pulls his hand away from her face, shaking his head. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Make light of it." He turns onto his back and scowls up at the ceiling. "He attacked you, love. He attacked you and when he finished with you, he would have taken Nora." He swallows thickly, allowing Alex to curl into his side, fisting his nightshirt in her hands. "What would I have done if I'd come home to find both of you gone?"

"That isn't ever going to happen, darling." She rests her chin on his chest and though he can't see her in the darkness, he has no doubt she's staring up at his face with that unfailing earnestness. "You protected us well. More than that, you gave us what we needed to protect ourselves. We're fine. We're more than fine."

"This time."

"Every time. We can handle a few ill-bred cretins."

"I have no doubt you can handle anything, pet."

She huffs. "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Agreeing with me."

He snorts. "I just can't make you happy, can I?"

Alex sighs, stroking a hand up and down his arm. "It's not your fault, Matthew."

"Isn't it?"

"No. It's the fault of the man who came to you seeking help, agreed to your terms, and then got angry when he found they didn't suit him after all." Alex slips a leg between his and rubs a soothing hand over his chest. "What matters is that we're prepared when these things happen. We've taken every precaution short of never leaving the house again, which I refuse to do."

"Have you always been so irritatingly practical?" He grumbles.

She smiles and he can see its brilliance even in the dark. "It's my specialty."

"Among other things." Pulling her closer, he sweeps his hands over her frame carefully, checking for injury and ignoring Alex when she squirms. "Hold still, damn you."

"What are you doing, Matthew?" She sounds endlessly amused and it makes him frown. "I told you, I'm perfectly alright. Stop fussing -" She stops, freezing in his arms for a long moment as he frantically searches her body for so much as scratch. She could have missed something. With the adrenaline rush, she might not even feel it yet… "Darling, are you alright? You're trembling."

"I'm fine," he replies shortly, but she sees right through him. "I'm hardly the one who needs looking after right now."

"Oh darling, come here." She sits up in bed and pulls him close, enveloping him in the warm safety of her arms. Despite his earlier protests, Matt crumbles at her careful touch, burying his face in her neck with a shudder. Alex clings to him all the tighter for it, pressing fervent kisses to the top of his head. "We're safe," she whispers. "It's over. We're here and we're safe. You protected us, my love."

He clutches her nightdress in shaking hands and she whispers reassurances into his ear, holding him until he believes her.

a more promising beginning

Chapter Summary

His money will not buy her better memories. No amount of his adoration and devotion will satisfy this particular need.

Chapter Notes

Story title from A Myth of Devotion by Louise Gluck.

Summer on the moors is not so different from winter. It is still gray, foggy, and damp, but when it isn't raining there is just enough warmth in the air to allow for afternoon strolls with his wife. He leads her along in companionable silence, face tilted into the damp air and Alex's arm tucked snugly through his own. The weather is pleasant enough this afternoon for her to leave her cloak at the manor and he rather loves that such a simple thing has put a skip in her step.

"There's something to be said for the moors in the middle of summer." She breathes in deeply, her eyes bright and her smile content. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Stifling a bout of laughter, Matt eyes her with fondness. When she first married him, Alex hated everything about the place he'd taken her to live – the house, the gloomy weather, the isolated moors, even the man she must be forced to live with. He never would have imagined she would grow to love each and every one, least of all him. He had hoped, but never truly believed it possible.

"Beautiful," he replies, still gazing at her.

"Incorrigible," she murmurs, looking flushed but pleased. "Now, what did that letter from your sister say?"

He frowns. "How did you -"

Her lips curl into a secretive smile. "I know everything."

He eyes her disbelievingly.

She blinks up at him, innocent and wide-eyed. "I do hope they're having agreeable weather for their honeymoon."

"Shouldn't you know that already?" He grumbles. "You know everything, after all."

"Oh hush and tell me what she says." Alex stifles a smile, resting her head on his shoulder. He retrieves the letter from the pocket of his greatcoat and hands it to her. Waiting patiently for her to peruse the letter, he guides her gently through the long grass and heather, toward the rowan tree she loves admiring, making sure she doesn't trip in her total disregard for her surroundings. Finally, she folds the letter and tucks it back into its envelope with a mournful sigh.

He lifts a brow. "What? I don't remember anything troubling in the letter. Well, aside from my sister's appalling inability to stay on topic."

"No, nothing like that." Alex leans into his side. "It's only that I'm a little jealous. I wish we'd gone away on honeymoon."

His mouth twitches at her forlorn expression. "To be fair, pet, we didn't have much of a wedding. I wasn't quite certain you wouldn't use a seaside honeymoon to push me in and have done with me."

Not nearly as amused by the notion as he is, she glances away, her brow pinched. "I don't regret marrying you, my love. Not for one moment. I love you and our life together more than I ever imagined I would." She sighs again, turning to face him and tilting her head up to meet his eyes. "I only wish we had happier memories of our wedding day. I could barely look at you. I didn't even want you to touch me."

He gives the barest hint of a nod, his jaw tight with the memory.

"Imagine a bride flinching away from her groom when he leans in to kiss her." Alex huffs but her voice trembles, betraying her. "If I could live it all over again, I would hardly be able to stand the wait until the priest asked us to seal our union with a kiss." She smiles sadly. "I wish, for both our sakes, that our memories of that day were better ones."

They slow to a stop beneath Alex's tree, a few miles from the manor but still near enough to hear the rattle of a carriage should someone come to call. He draws her close beneath the shade the tree offers, not quite sure what to say as Alex crowds him and kisses his neck, quiet regret in every press of her lips. He smoothes a hand over her back and frowns into her hair, sighing. "I can't change it."

"I know."

"You would never have consented to marry me if I'd asked nicely," he reasons. "You hated me."

"I hated you because you took me away from my family, darling." Alex lifts her head, green eyes glittering as she looks up at him. "I hated your actions. Not you."

"A man is the sum of his actions, pet." He frowns, tucking her hair behind her ear when the wind whips around them and sends her curls tumbling into her eyes. "And mine would never have been good enough for you. Nor anyone."

She shakes her head, biting her lip. "You don't know that."

"No," he admits, for her sake.

Sometimes, he has wondered what it might have been like to court Alex properly but he knows that despite her insistence that she would love him any time, any place, anywhere, she would never have consented to having anything to do with him. His reputation precedes him. Her father would have refused to allow him to come to call. Her mother would hate him just as much as she does now. And Alex, without being forced to cohabitate with him and spend time in his company, would never see anything other than a frightful man with too much money and not enough heart. Even so, as he looks upon his wife now, he wishes he had tried. Anything is better than this.

He likes spoiling her. And he does – constantly. He gives her everything she could possibly desire. He gives her fine clothes and jewels, pretty trinkets to sit on her vanity or books to read, imported perfumes and the best saddles for her horses. If she asks for something, it is hers, though she rarely asks. She is content with only him and even now it humbles him into brooding silence. But this, this one thing she asks for, he cannot give her. His money will not buy her better memories. No amount of his adoration and devotion will satisfy this particular need.

Matt threads a hand through her curls and presses his forehead to hers as they stand beneath the

rowan tree, the high winds whipping around them. For the first time in years, he feels powerless.

After their walk, they return to the manor and Alex leaves him to change out of her gown and into trousers, mood a little lighter as she talks of helping Benson with the horses until dinner. Matt shuts himself away in his study and gets absolutely nothing accomplished, staring blankly at his records and documents, thinking of Alex.

She appears to be in better spirits by the time he meets her in their chambers to change for dinner but he can't shake their discussion earlier in the day. He helps her dress in silence, still thinking, and fails to press his usual line of kisses across her shoulders as he does up the buttons on her dress. Alex glances over her shoulder at him, brow furrowed. "Darling? Are you feeling alright?"

"Fine," he answers, and kisses the nape of her neck.

Not fooled for a moment, she turns to face him, reaching up to straighten his dinner cravat. "I shouldn't have said anything earlier. You've been brooding ever since."

"I don't brood."

It's an old, weak protest and they both know it.

Alex sighs, stroking her fingers along his jaw. "I was just having a moment, darling, that's all. Every single step we've taken together has led us right here. And I wouldn't change that for all the happy wedding days in the world. I'm sorry if I made you feel otherwise." She frowns, looking adorably petulant. "I'm a rubbish wife."

"Well, I'm a terrible influence." He kisses her before she can protest.

Dinner is filled with her chatter. She tells him about the things Cerberus did, how Parker had nearly fallen off his horse during their ride this afternoon, all the funny things Benson had muttered under his breath when he caught her braiding the horses' manes again. Matt listens to every word but in the back of his mind, an idea is taking shape. It's been brewing all day and he has been resisting it every step of the way, hating just how vulnerable it will leave him.

He picks up his wine and gazes across the table at Alex, watching her gesture with her fork, a smile on her face. If there is anyone in the world he could possibly be vulnerable in front of, anyone he could humble himself before, it would be his wife.

After dinner, they retire to the library and Alex keeps stealing anxious glances at him, as if she knows that despite her apology, he is still thinking about what she'd said. She pushes him gently into his favorite leather armchair and kisses his cheek, her hand stroking his hair. "If you keep it up, your face will stick that way, you know."

He catches her hand, turning his head into her palm. "I'm fine," he promises, and manages a faint smile for her. "Go write to your mother. I'm sure she'll be pleased to know I haven't chained you up in a dungeon yet."

Alex sighs wistfully and winks at him. "Unfortunately. There's always tomorrow."

He kisses her knuckles and drops her hand, watching her retreat to the writing desk on the other side of the library. For an hour, he listens to the scratch of her quill against the paper, stealing glances at her from over the top of a book he isn't really reading. Iris brings her a cup of tea and sets it beside her elbow, and Matt feels his stomach twist into knots. Alex always has her tea just before bed. She claims it makes her sleep deep and full of pleasant dreams.

It's almost time and he hasn't the slightest idea what to say. He is not a man of many words and there are no flowery speeches on his tongue; his head is not full of sweet nothings to whisper to his bride. He is at a loss to convey just how much she means to him. What he loves most about Alex is that he never has to try. She always knows. She understands all the things he doesn't say. Tonight, however, the least he can do is to give voice to the profound feelings she always stirs within him at a mere glance or a brush of her hand.

The soft clatter of an empty teacup settling back onto its saucer finally rouses him from his thoughts and he glances up just in time to see Alex yawn. "Ready to retire, pet?"

"Yes, please." She smiles sleepily at him as he stands and crosses the room to fetch her. It's a smile full of such trust and adoration that it only steels his resolve. He owes this to her. Swallowing nervously, he takes her hand and pulls her up. She sways into him, the soft scent of her perfume enveloping his senses. "How was your book?"

He doesn't even know the title of what he'd been pretending to read. "Dull," he answers, and hopes it wasn't one of his favorites.

As they abandon the library and walk together to their chambers, Alex grins and presses her lips beneath his jaw. "Would you like me to liven things up for you?"

He smirks, opening their bedroom door and ushering her inside. "I thought you were tired."

"The one thing I am never too tired for, my love, is you." She turns her back to him as he shuts the door, glancing over her shoulder with a little smile. "Help me out of this dress?"

His hands shake as he works open her gown, undoing each little mother of pearl button, and not only from anxiety. It's been two years since he married this woman but he still can't help but tremble when he touches her and he wonders if she has any idea the affect she has on him. As her dress falls away, slipping to a puddle of silk on the floor, he starts unlacing her corset, dropping soft, open-mouthed kisses along the nape of her neck as his fingers work quickly.

Alex sighs quietly and he hears a faint tremor in the sound. He smiles against her skin, tugging a little more forcefully at the laces. Whatever power she has over him, it always warms his heart when she proves in her own little ways just how much power he has over her in turn.

The corset drops to the floor to join her dress but Matt grips her hip tightly, keeping her firmly in place as he trails his mouth over her shoulder and traces his fingers up the curve of her spine through her shift. Alex shudders, reaching behind to curl an arm around his neck, her fingers twisting in his hair. "I'm sorry," he finally says, his voice rough.

Still lost in him, she murmurs distractedly, "Sorry?"

He nods, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry our wedding wasn't what you deserve."

Instantly, Alex turns in his arms to face him. She shakes her head, frowning up at him as she grips the front of his waistcoat. "I shouldn't have said anything. I never meant to make you feel like this, darling. Please, just put it out of your mind."

"I can't." He threads a hand through her hair, cupping the back of her head as she gazes imploringly up at him. "Not without telling you that -" Pretty poetry doesn't make itself known on the tip of his tongue but he inhales quietly and forges ahead, hoping the simple truth will suffice. "You may not be able to remember our wedding day as a happy one, but when I look back on that day, all I remember is that you were stunning, even glaring at me over your bouquet."

Alex stares up at him, frozen and wide-eyed.

He smiles softly, stroking a thumb over her cheek. "I remember wanting to touch you more than I'd ever wanted anything. I remember my determination to keep you as safe and comfortable as I could manage. Even when you tried to run away that night, I was just glad to no longer be alone."

Alex turns her face into his hand and kisses his palm, nuzzling his fingers. "Darling -"

"You were a handful, pet." He smirks, watching her lips curl into a reluctant smile. "But I loved it. I loved you. And I ask that you remember that when you look back on that day. Remember that you were loved, even then."

Tears in her eyes and lips parted, Alex gazes at him in silence for a long moment, barely even breathing. He stares back in quiet apprehension, wondering if perhaps he should have just carried his wife off to bed without a word. There is a reason he says little – he feels so much for her that it would be impossible to properly convey it in speech. Finally, Alex draws in a sharp, trembling breath and puts him out of his misery, taking his face in her hands and drawing him down for a sweet, greedy kiss. She clings to his waistcoat, melting into his frame, head tilted up to seek his mouth as her eyes flutter shut.

Groaning, Matt slips a hand into her curls and opens his mouth eagerly against hers, tasting her evening tea on her tongue. His other hand fists into the thin material of her shift and Alex presses closer with an encouraging whimper. He slides a hand over her thigh, clawing at her shift and drawing it up her legs before he remembers the whole point of throwing himself prostrate at her feet. Breaking from her mouth with reluctance, Matt breathes harshly against her cheek, eyes growing unfocused as Alex latches onto his throat, nipping and sucking like a distracting little minx.

Settling his hands back on her hips, he pushes her just far enough away to think again without losing the sweet warmth of her body. Hair slipping into his eyes, he looks at her through his fringe, licking his lips. "I could make arrangements, you know. Laura would undoubtedly be happy to help you plan. Your family might even be persuaded to attend again -"

Alex stops him with a gentle hand over his mouth, looking at him in quiet awe. "You want to renew our vows?"

He swallows as she drops her hand, still gaping at him. "If you'll have me again."

"Oh, darling." She blinks away tears. "Again and again."

He fights a smile, drawing her close once more and kissing her forehead. "It's settled then." She nods with a grin, kissing his cheek soundly before pulling back and taking his hand. He watches with a frown as she begins to pull his wedding ring from his finger. "Pet, what are you doing?"

"Renewing our vows." She slips off her own ring and presses it into his hand, looking happier than he's seen her since she read Laura's letter this afternoon.

He stares at her. "I meant later."

She waves him away with a small hand, nearly bouncing on her toes as she peers up at him. "We don't need an audience. You're the only one who matters and since you're already here, we might as well do it now."

His mouth twitches. "As you wish."

Looking satisfied, Alex toys with his ring, peeking at him through her lashes. "Do you, Lord Smith, Caretaker of Orphans and Terror of Scoundrels Everywhere, take Lady Alexandra, Charmer of Difficult Men, Skilled Gardener, and Excellent Dancer, to be your lawfully wedded wife – again?"

He huffs out a quiet laugh, watching her fondly. "If I must."

She takes his hand, beaming as she slides the ring back onto his finger. "You must."

He wants to kiss her. Quite possibly even more than he did the first time, now that she isn't glaring daggers at him. In fact, she looks rather lovelier than she did on their wedding day, standing there in her bare feet and her shift, her hair wild around her shoulders.

She looks at him pointedly, eyebrow raised. "Darling," she whispers. "It's your turn."

"Right, of course." He clears his throat, attempting not to flush. "Do you, Lady Alexandra, take

Lord Smith -"

"Yes." She laughs brightly, refusing to let him finish in her eagerness. "I do. Now and forever, if you please."

Amusement warring with the increasing desire to forgo these bloody formalities and simply kiss her breathless, Matt slides her ring back onto her finger, lips brushing her knuckles. "May I kiss the bride now?"

She hums, swaying toward him. "You'd better."

If their last wedding kiss had been somewhat cold and hesitant, a chaste brush of mouths over with as quickly as possible, this one is the exact opposite. Their lips meet with desperate hunger and there is no desire to part now or ever. Hands roam with greedy intent and their soft moans will not be silenced. Lips linger, parting just long enough to breathe before colliding eagerly once more.

Matt scoops up his bride into his arms and starts for the bed. Giggling, Alex wraps her arms around his neck and stops kissing him just long enough to insist, "I expect a much better wedding night this time."

"Hardly my fault you escaped out a window," he grumbles. "Should I expect a repeat performance?"

She laughs as he deposits her onto the bed, scrambling backwards as he sheds his clothes and climbs in after her. "Oh, I'm not going anywhere, darling." She cups his face in her hands as he positions himself between her legs, fingers grasping the hem of her shift and pulling it up. She helps him to pull it over her head and he immediately drops his face into her neck, leaving rough, biting kisses down her perfumed throat. She sighs softly, threading her hands through his hair. "Oh. If only I had known what I was missing."

He smirks, trailing his mouth lightly and teasingly over her chest. His lips brush her nipples and Alex gasps, arching into his mouth with a wordless plea. She is gorgeous like this, laid bare before him and wanting nothing more than his touch. He grants it to her, cupping her breasts in his palms and devoting his attention first to one and then the other. Alex whimpers beneath him, shifting restlessly as he sucks and kneads, digging her heels into the mattress.

He nips at the side of her breast and begins again, reverently kissing his way down her stomach.

She sucks in a sharp breath, trembling all over. "Darling -"

"Shh," he murmurs, focused on the softness of her skin. "Consider it a wedding gift, pet."

"Oh, you know just what to get a girl," she sighs, draping her legs over his shoulders as he settles between her damp thighs. She drops a hand to his head, fingers carding gently through his hair as he begins kissing her inner thighs. Her scent surrounds him and the heat of her against his face is almost more than he can bear. He cannot tease her tonight, surging forward with his lips parted.

They both shudder as he strokes his tongue between her folds, overwhelmed by the sheer intimacy of such an act as this.

If he were a man who wrote sonnets, he could write hundreds of them about the wealth of soft, pink flesh between his wife's legs. The scent of her arousal makes his mouth water. He opens his mouth wide and wishes he could devour her completely, consuming her from the inside out and starting here, with this slick heat on his tongue.

He could be happy here for hours at a time, content with the ache in his jaw so long as Alex never wavered from her guttural moans and the eager rocking of her hips against every hot stroke. He slips his tongue past her entrance, listening to her cry out, and wonders if she would laugh if he told her she still feels like Alex even here. He has mapped her inside with the tip of his tongue over and over again on many sleepless nights and discovered that she tastes like Alex should – sweet and far, far too good for him – and feels like Alex should – warm and full of feminine curves. He could identify her from the taste and texture of her sex alone.

No longer content with just petting his hair now, she fists the strands in her white-knuckled fingers as her sighs grow high and breathy. He smirks against her folds, nudging into her hand and releasing a soft grunt of approval. She's close now.

He traces his tongue over the sensitive bundle of her clitoris, drawing it into his mouth and sucking lightly. Alex scrabbles at the sheets, nearly sobbing. "Darling, I – oh. Oh yes." As pleasure swallows her, her sex throbs under his tongue, undulating and producing more of her sweet arousal. He laps it up like a man dying of thirst, gripping her thighs and refusing to let her move an inch until he has had his fill.

She's quivering with renewed desire by the time he finally lifts his head, her arm thrown over her face and her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. "Mmm," she purrs, peeking out from beneath her forearm as he slides up the length of her body to join her. "What a blessed bride I am."

"Blushing bride," he counters, enjoying her soft snort as he settles between her legs.

"Not for years, thanks to you." She takes his face in her hands and kisses him softly, making a quiet noise of approval when she tastes herself on his lips. "You know, it's a shame a man cannot deflower his bride twice."

He shakes his head at her musings, dropping a lingering, tender kiss to her breast as he tilts his hips, pressing the head of his erection against the soft folds of her sex. "Would you like me to try, pet?"

Her lips curl into a rather sinful smile. "Please. Anything worth doing is worth doing twice, don't you think, my love?"

Instead of answering in words, he does so in action, surging forward and filling her in one slow thrust. Alex tosses her head back on her pillow, wayward curls everywhere as her eyes flutter. He grits his teeth and breathes in through his nose, struggling not to give in to animal abandon as the wet warmth of his wife surrounds him. He drops his head to her shoulder, trembling. "Alex," he breathes.

She strokes a patient hand over his back, fingertips dancing along his spine. "I'm here, darling. I'm right here." She turns her head, pressing her lips to his temple. "And I love you so very much."

Those words from her lips make him feel capable of nearly anything and he lifts himself up onto his elbows once more, rocking his hips in a shallow thrust that makes them both gasp. Alex clutches at his shoulders, drawing a shapely leg up and around his waist, all at once shifting closer and driving him deeper inside.

He bites back a curse, dark eyes intent on her face as he begins to move steadily within her. Alex gazes right back, little gasps of pleasure escaping her lips, and Matt loses himself in her eyes. The black of her pupils always nearly eclipses the stunning green when they're together like this and he remembers being utterly fascinated by it that very first night, months after their wedding when they finally consummated their marriage. It's been years since then and he marvels that he still has the same affect on her even now. He hopes it never fades. He hopes she never, ever grows tired of him touching her because he will surely never tire of being allowed to.

Back arched beneath him and fisting the sheets in her small hands, Alex looks positively wanton as she gasps and cries, breasts and curls bouncing with every twist of his hips. The sight of her in the throes of such ecstasy wrenches away the last of his control and he feels his imminent release crackling through his veins like wildfire in a dry summer.

Wrapping her curls around one fist, he slips his other hand between her legs and strokes his fingers over her clitoris, watching Alex cry out as her whole body jerks. "That's it, love," he whispers, moving slower now, holding back his own release to savor the sight of hers. "Just let it take you. I've got you."

Her toes curl in the sheets, her nails dig into his forearms and with one last slow thrust and a stroke of his fingers, his bride falls apart in his arms, trusting him to catch her. The wild clenching of her sex around him is more than enough to send his body into overdrive and he grits his teeth against a euphoric shout as he joins her, face buried in her neck and hips stuttering.

They hold each other until the tremors stop, breathing quietly into skin slicked with sweat. When he finally eases out of her and rolls over, Alex curls against his side, pillowing her head on his chest. "That was much better than last time," she sighs happily.

He suppresses a snort of laughter, dropping a kiss into unkempt curls. "You mean when you were lost on the moors and Benson had to come fetch you?"

She turns her head, kissing his chest. "Yes, that. Terrible mistake."

Sliding his hand over her back, he rumbles quietly, "Well, it isn't over yet, you know."

Her eyes light up. "Isn't it?"

Matt shakes his head, suppressing a smile. "Oh, no. Honeymoons can last for days. Perhaps even weeks."

Her eyes widen playfully and she slips her hand down his chest – down down – and between his legs. He breathes in sharply, jaw clenched. Alex smirks into his skin. "We should get married more often."

there i am a dark queen

Chapter Summary

Summary: She opens the door, peering out into the evening gloom and hoping to see her husband riding up the lane but the lane is empty. She can't even hear the sound of his horse in the distance. Leaning into the door and curling her fingers around the handle, Alex swallows the lump in her throat and breathes into the fog, "Where are you, darling?"

Chapter Notes

Story title from Persephone by Ron Koertge.

Watching Nora sit stiffly at the piano bench, back straight and dress perfectly pressed as she tinkers with the keys, is a bit like watching a wild, beautiful bird sit in a cage. Alex swallows back the guilt and drops her eyes to her sewing, listening as her daughter attempts to make it all the way through a simple French song without making any mistakes.

She makes it nearly to the end and her fingers slip.

Alex winces, lifting her head to find Nora slumped over the piano, elbow on the keys. "Almost," she encourages with a smile. "You almost made it, love. Try again."

Nora pouts, slouching a bit, and looks quite close to pitching a fit. At seven, she should be well past fits. She really isn't. Alex blames Matt and his endless spoiling. "Mummy, I'm tired," she complains. "Can't we take a break? Only a little one!"

Sighing, Alex nods. "Go to the kitchens and ask Hobbs for a biscuit." Nora is up and running before she even finishes her sentence but Alex calls after her, "Then I want you back in here until you get it right!"

Nora giggles as she runs away and Alex frowns down at her embroidery, wondering if she'll even see her daughter again for the rest of the day. Little imp.

"Nice afternoon?"

She jumps at the sound of Matt's voice right behind her, pressing a hand to her heart and turning to offer him a mild glare. He towers over her, gaze dark and mouth smirking. "Must you frighten me so? I swear you thrive on it."

He leans over the back of her chair, pressing a soft, apologetic kiss to her mouth. "Not at all," he sighs, and kisses her again, more lingering this time. "I thrive on other things."

She swallows back a smile, pushing him away. "Your daughter has made yet another grand escape."

"I can hardly blame her." He straightens, wandering to the mantel and looking into the mirror hanging over it, straightening his cravat. "You know she hates those lessons."

"Yes, and I hate them nearly as much as she does." Alex frowns, tucking away her embroidery in the basket beneath her chair. "But if I don't teach her these things, she'll never learn."

"And what an endless tragedy that would be," he counters dryly.

Alex huffs. "You may not care and I may not care but everyone else will and I won't have anyone thinking my daughter isn't good enough or somehow lacking because of it – as if she's some heathen we didn't bother to raise properly. I'll give them no reason to gossip. Nora will be just as accomplished as any other girl – no matter where she lives or who her parents are."

Matt turns from the mirror, looking absurdly handsome in his dark suit, his hair slipping into his eyes. Her heart flutters as his gaze land on her and she glances away, biting her lip. "You know," he says softly. "I rather love how worked up you get over this."

She lifts her chin, still not quite meeting his eyes. "I want her to have everything."

"She will." He strides across the room, stopping right in front of her, and lifts a hand to her cheek, thumb stroking lightly. "She already does."

Finally, Alex softens, turning her head to lean into his warm palm. Slowly lifting her eyes to meet

his amused gaze, she smiles. "You look very dashing. Where are you going?"

"Collection day," he says, and sighs when her face falls. "You should be used to it by now."

She nuzzles her cheek into his palm, wrapping a hand around his wrist to keep him close. "That hardly means I've grown to like it."

"I won't be gone long," he promises, and grasps her hand to pull her up from her chair. "Most everyone has paid me back on time. Only one or two people who need a little persuasion."

Swaying into him, Alex allows her husband to wrap a slender arm around her waist and tug her impossibly closer. She fiddles with his cravat, tilting her head to look up into his eyes. "You'll be back by dinner?"

"Before dinner." He threads a hand through her hair and presses his forehead to hers, smirking. "I promise."

"Sir?" They both turn to find Parker standing in the doorway, smiling boyishly at them. Though, Alex reminds herself, he's hardly a boy anymore. He's a young man now, taller than her and perfectly capable of looking after them all while Matt is away. "Your horse is ready."

Matt nods his thanks. "Good man."

Parker inclines his head and leaves them alone once more, still smiling.

"Are you leaving, Papa?" Nora strolls in from the other side of the room, still nibbling on a biscuit, a frown on her face when her father nods. "For how long?"

"Only a few hours." Matt lifts her into his arms, though she's growing a bit too big for it now. Nora hardly complains, just as mad for her father as she's always been as she wraps her arms around his neck and squeezes. "I want you to mind your mother while I'm gone, understand? Play the piano, practice your French, and anything else she asks of you."

Nora nods reluctantly. "I know. I will."

"Good." He kisses her temple and settles her back on her feet, turning once more to Alex. She steps into his arms instantly, leaning up on her toes as he bends his head and meets her halfway in a soft, lingering kiss. "I'll be back soon."

She nods, pressing another kiss to his jaw, breathing him in quietly, her eyes still shut. "Hurry home." She reluctantly steps out of his arms, slowly relinquishing the warmth of his hand. "Be safe, my love."

She doesn't step outside to watch him leave – it gets more difficult every time. Instead, she throws herself into the rest of her day with gusto. Worrying about Matt while he's gone is inevitable but she finds that the time passes more quickly when she tries to occupy herself with other things. Clapping her hands together as the sound of hoof beats outside fades into the distance, Alex smiles at Nora. "Alright then, young miss. Back to the pianoforte."

Nora groans.

The rest of the day is spent productively enough but only with very careful planning by Alex. Nora detests the pianoforte so immediately after her lesson, she rewards her with the task of doing her sums, which the girl relishes and is actually quite proficient at. Her needlepoint – another chore for Nora – is immediately followed by practicing her penmanship since Nora loves the scent of the ink and drawing the swirling letters her mother has taught her. Proper teatime etiquette is rewarded with an extra scone slathered in cream. An hour's reading means an hour of frolicking about on the moors like a wild thing, Parker tagging along as her glorified babysitter. Alex has discovered through trial and error that a system of rewards works best in tutoring Nora.

It's nearly dinner by the time she returns from outdoors, her hair hanging in sweat-damp tendrils down her back and her hand clinging to Parker's. There is still no sign of Matt but Alex refuses to worry just yet. Sometimes he stops to do a bit of shopping and he'll get distracted buying his girls something pretty.

Tugging Parker into the parlour with her, Nora huffs a stray curl from her flushed face and says, "Mummy, when is Papa coming home?"

"Soon." Alex rises from her seat and fusses with her daughter's dirt-stained dress with a sigh. "Why don't you run upstairs and wash up?"

Nora frowns. "But he's supposed to give me a lesson today, remember?"

"Yes, I remember." Alex feels a smile tugging at her lips despite herself, kneeling to meet her daughter's serious blue eyes. Matt has been teaching her self-defense – had been insistent upon it actually. They'd had quite the row about it but in the end, Alex couldn't deny him the chance to protect his daughter any way he can. Of course, Nora loves it. She loves any excuse to spend time with her father. "Your Papa is a bit late today. You might have to postpone your lesson until tomorrow. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know how much you love them."

"I wouldn't worry." Parker lays a hand on her little shoulder, offering a wide grin that Nora can't help but return against her will. "She spent the afternoon attacking me from behind and launching herself from tree branches without giving me even a stick to defend myself with. She's had plenty of practice."

Nora elbows him, huffing. "You promised not to tell."

"I'm not telling her the half of it, little demon," he teases.

Alex stifles a smile, standing once more. "Thank you for looking after her, dear. She didn't hurt you, did she?"

Parker shakes his head, smiling. "Not yet. Once she's a proper lady, I imagine it'll hurt quite a bit more."

Looking positively devious, Nora preens and bounces on her toes. "Then I can't wait until I'm a proper lady. I shall be much tougher than you."

"I have no doubt." Parker ruffles her hair.

"Just don't grow in such a hurry. Lord, you're already seven." Alex laughs. "I quite like you being my little one."

"I'll still be your little one when I'm grown, Mummy." Nora hops up to her side and clings to her waist, smiling up at her. "I'll just be taller."

Parker snorts. "Come on, imp. Let's see if Iris can scrub you of at least one layer of dirt."

Looking a little insulted, Nora lets go of Alex and skips to his side. "At least I'm not the one bleeding on Mummy's carpet."

"You pushed me into a bramble of thorns, you naughty thing!"

Nora giggles, scrambling away from him as he tickles her side.

Alex stands in the parlour, arms wrapped around her middle, and listens to their laughter as they disappear up the stairs. She turns from the doorway, pacing away to the front hall and to the door. She opens it, peering out into the evening gloom and hoping to see her husband riding up the lane, but the lane is empty. She can't even hear the sound of his horse in the distance. Leaning into the door and curling her fingers around the handle, Alex swallows the lump in her throat and breathes into the fog, "Where are you, darling?"

She barely touches her dinner.

Nora eats with her usual voracious appetite, talking about this and that as Alex picks at her food and tries to pay attention. After Hobbs comes in to clear their plates, she cannot recall what they had for dinner or a word of Nora's chatter. She blinks distantly at her empty glass of wine and feels tears sting her eyes.

Hovering at her side, Hobbs glances anxiously between her and Nora, who appears to be finally noticing her mother's distress. "Begging your pardon, Mistress," she says quietly. "But I thought I might take the little mistress into the kitchens with me tonight. She wanted to help me bake a cake if you don't mind."

Hobbs bites her lip and it's suddenly very obvious that she's trying to give Alex the space she needs to fret in peace without worrying she'll upset Nora. She purses her lips and nods gratefully, squeezing the girl's hand. "Thank you, Hobbs. Nora would love that, wouldn't you?"

Nora nods slowly, still eyeing her mother with a worried frown.

Alex pastes on a smile for her. "Go on then. I'll be up to tuck you in when it's time for bed,

lovely."

Nora scrambles from her chair and rounds the table, throwing her arms around Alex. "Papa is alright, Mummy."

Shutting her eyes, Alex wraps Nora up tight in her arms, burying her face in her long, sweet-smelling dark hair. "Of course he is." Releasing her, she tucks Nora's hair behind her ears and smiles. "Remember to put on an apron or you'll dirty your clothes."

Nora follows Hobbs from the room, leaving Alex to sit in the dining room by herself. Her eyes drift to the empty chair Matt usually occupies, her heart clenching painfully. He should be here now, lingering over his brandy and watching her with those dark, dark eyes. He should be teasing her into a smile and stroking long fingers over the inside of her wrist to make her shudder. He should be escorting her to the library so they can curl up together on the settee in front of the fire. She wants his arms around her. She wants the smell of his cigars and his brandy and the soft brush of his lips against her ear. She wants him here and safe.

He'd promised he would be home before dinner and he always keeps his promises to her. What could possibly be preventing him? All sorts of horrible thoughts run rampant through her mind. Maybe one of his clients overpowered him. Maybe he'd been hurt and fell from his horse trying to get back home. He could be bleeding in a ditch somewhere. He could be dead.

Her stomach rebels violently at the thought and Alex presses a trembling hand to her mouth, scurrying from the dining room, down the hall to the foyer and finally stumbling out the front door to empty what little she managed to eat at dinner into a bush. Her stomach continues to heave anyway and she clutches her middle with one hand, using the other to keep from falling to the ground in a heap. Tears sting her eyes and a sob hitches in her throat. She can't breathe.

A gentle hand pressed between her shoulder blades, rubbing almost hesitantly, offers a soothing touch. She stiffens until she hears Parker's soft voice. "It's alright, Mistress. Calm down. Deep breath, yeah?" She gasps for air, still crying, and Parker uses his other hand to grip her arm, keeping her upright. "Another one, there you go. Everything is just fine."

She shakes her head, struggling to breathe as she lifts a shaking hand to wipe her mouth. "No, it isn't."

Parker sighs. "He knows how to take care of himself. Believe me, I've seen it."

"Then why isn't he here?"

He swallows. "I don't know."

"I should have sent you with him." She pushes back another wave of tears, biting her lip. "Things have been so quiet lately that I didn't insist and now look. He's – he's…" She paces away from him, one hand tangled in her hair and the other pressed over her pounding heart. "I don't know what to do," she confesses softly. "Parker, tell me what to do."

He's silent for a long moment, watching her with worried brown eyes. "Give him another hour. Tuck Nora into bed. If he isn't back by then, we'll find him."

She nods silently, not trusting herself to speak.

"He's alive, Mistress." Parker offers her a grim smile. "He'd never leave you and the little one."

"Not by choice, no." Alex turns from him and starts for the manor, arms wrapped around herself to ward off the evening chill in the air.

"Mistress?"

She turns, glancing over her shoulder to find Parker watching her uncertainly. He's grown so much, her little Parker – tall and dark, his black hair beginning to curl. She'll always see a scruffy eleven year old when she looks at him but he's every inch a handsome young man now. "Yes?"

"We'll find him."

She nods shakily. "Meet me in his study in an hour."

Putting Nora to bed tonight proves to be a challenge. She's beginning to fret just as much as Alex, asking after her father constantly. Climbing into bed, Nora falls back against her pillows with a dramatic pout. "Mummy, he should be home now. He promised!"

Alex settles onto the edge of her bed, tucking the blankets up to her chin. "I know, lovely. But he'll be home by morning."

"How do you know?"

She offers a watery smile, smoothing a hand over Nora's brow. "Because I'm going to find him and bring him back."

Nora yawns, watching through sleepy eyes as Alastor ambles into the room and hops up onto the bed, curling up at the foot of it, her silent guardian. "I miss him."

"Me too, my love." Alex leans in and kisses her cheek, eyes stinging. "Sleep well and in the morning, we'll all be together again."

Snuggling into her pillow, Nora closes her eyes and sighs. "Promise?"

Alex leans over her bedside table, opening the music box Matt had brought back from town years ago. Nora still can't sleep without it. As the slow, soothing melody fills the room, Alex breathes in quietly and nods. "I promise."

Matt's study looks just as it always does – neat, orderly, everything in its place. His large mahogany desk takes up a majority of the room, littered with papers and quills, inkwells and flowers from Nora. Alex crosses first to where he keeps his brandy, pulling the decanter and a glass from the shelf while Parker stands uncertainly in the doorway.

"What are we looking for?" He asks, peering around the room as if Matt might disapprove of him being in here without his permission.

Alex pours herself a bit of brandy and shoves the decanter back onto the shelf, keeping her back turned to Parker for a long moment. She cups her hands around her glass and brings it up to her face, closing her eyes. It smells like Matt – the faint richness of smoky wood and pomegranates. She remembers tasting it on his tongue the first time he kissed her – properly kissed her – right here in this room. He always tastes like this brandy. It's become a comfort to her. A reminder of home. What if it's all she has now? What if – No. She mustn't entertain the thought. Not now.

She takes a quick gulp of her drink, relishing the way it burns sliding down her throat, and turns on her heel to face Parker. "Shut the door."

He steps into the room and obeys without question.

Alex moves to the desk, stepping behind it and scanning the papers scattered across it. "I need to know who he was visiting today. He must keep a record somewhere."

Parker nods, crossing the room in two quick strides. "He keeps them in here." He taps the top drawer. "A record of every client and when their payment is due. He's very meticulous about it. We'll just need to find the ones dated for today."

Setting down her drink, Alex sinks into the leather chair and reaches into her hair, pulling out a pin. "Will you do the honors?"

He grins, taking the pin from her. "I always knew my thieving would come in handy one day."

"Don't take this as an encouragement," Alex warns, stifling a smile.

Shrugging, Parker kneels in front of the drawer and sets to work.

She gives him his space, turning back to her drink and the contents of Matt's desktop. There are various notes and letters in his hand and she can't help reaching out to brush her fingers over dried ink, admiring the neat curl of his script. A picture Nora had drawn him of the three of them in the garden together has a place of prominence at the top of his desk, pinned in place by the paperweight Alex remembers throwing at his head when they were first married. Lord but she wasted a lot of time blindly hating this man.

"Got it."

She glances up hopefully and finds the drawer open, Parker holding out a hand to her. She takes the pin from him and tucks it back into her hair with a nod of thanks. "Do you know where to look in there?"

He nods, lips pursed as he rifles through various files. With admirable quickness, he pulls file after file from the drawer and drops them onto the desk. Alex opens each file as soon as he drops it, hungrily scanning each one for the day's date. Parker was right – Matt is very scrupulous about keeping accurate records of his transactions with his clients.

She writes down the name and address of each client who was due for payment today, making sure to only write down the names of those Matt hadn't marked as paid in full. One name in particular catches her eye: Ian du Cann – the wealthy but prone to gambling Lord who'd come crawling to Matt for a loan months ago. When the time came to pay up, he'd refused despite having the money to pay Matt back. He'd refused merely because he could, because he was too rich and powerful and surrounded by guards for Matt to do a bloody thing about it.

Oh, Matt had been furious. Alex still shudders thinking about how utterly unmanageable he'd been for days after the encounter, his pride wounded. She'd begged him to let it go and after a few days, he'd seemed to. When she asked him about it, he'd only smiled and told her that du Cann had repented and paid what he owed. Nothing to worry about, pet, he'd said. Only a spoiled, dimwitted leech who thought he could double-cross me.

Now, Alex stares down at his file and the words under payment.

Horses: 2000 pounds

Carriage: burnt

Carriage house: burnt

Paid in full

"Matt stole du Cann's horses and burnt his carriage house?" She frowns, glancing up the same moment Parker does, his brown eyes wide. "I thought he paid?"

"He did." Parker swallows, trying to pull the file from her hands. Alex resists, gripping it tightly. "It's only, he paid without his permission."

"Matt took what he wanted, then. As always." Alex grits her teeth, angry tears filling her eyes. "He told me he was going to let it go."

"He couldn't, Ma'am. His reputation was at stake." Parker eyes her worriedly. "It all worked out in the end. He didn't want you to worry."

She huffs humorlessly.

"Mistress -"

"Did du Cann do this then?" She lifts her eyes to meet his, her jaw set and her chin raised in determination. "Did he hurt Matt?"

"I don't know, Ma'am." Parker stares back earnestly, no lie in his face. "But we can find out."

She leaves a few older boys to look after Nora before saddling Cerberus and riding out into the night with Parker and Benson, her dagger tucked into her boot and one of Matt's pistols at her side.

It's nearing midnight by the time they reach town and though Alex had a feeling no one would be pleased to be dragged out of bed at such an hour, she hadn't expected the sheer terror on their faces at the sight of her, as if Matt himself were standing before them.

She tries to muster a friendly smile for the first man who opens the door. "Mr. Stevens?"

He nods, peering around the doorframe warily. "Lady Smith."

"Oh, have we met before, Sir?"

He shakes his head.

"Then how do you -" She stops, shaking her head. Not important. "Did my husband come to see

you today?"

"No, he didn't. Is that all?" He tries to shut the door in her face.

Alex stops him with a booted foot in the doorframe, glaring. "Rude, Mr. Stevens."

He pales. "Sorry, Ma'am."

"I ask again – and please keep in mind the lovely gentlemen behind me who won't be quite so nice if they must ask you themselves – did you see my husband today? I know your payment was due."

"Well, that's just the thing, Ma'am." Mr. Stevens eyes Benson and Parker lurking behind her with unease. "I expected him to make a visit today and he never did."

"I see." She glances over her shoulder. "So you won't mind if my friends have a look around your home?" It's polite to ask but she doesn't really give him a choice.

It becomes apparent fairly quickly that Mr. Stevens isn't hiding Matt and is genuinely terrified of the three of them so when they leave half an hour later, they mount their horses and move on to the next client. Every other visit is much the same. Sleepy, terrified people answering the door – one of which takes one look at Alex and the silent menaces behind her before sinking to his knees and crying, holding out a pocketful of wadded up bills. None of them have seen Matt today and thorough searches of their homes prove they aren't lying.

Standing outside the last home Matt was supposed to visit today and with still no sign of her husband, Alex turns on the two men in her company, hands on her hips. "Satisfied? No one else has seen him. It must have been du Cann."

Parker nods. "His men must have ambushed Master Smith on his way into town."

Leaning into Cerberus behind her, Alex turns her face into the horse's neck and breathes in steadily, trying to will away images of Matt being ambushed and carried off to lord knows where. If that money-hungry cad has harmed one hair on his head, she will carve out his insides and scatter his remains around the park for the birds.

"What do we do?"

Alex lifts her head, hand curling into Cerberus' dark mane. "Take me where he lives."

"Master Smith wouldn't have you anywhere near that man -"

"That's an order, Benson," she says softly.

He deflates. "Yes, Ma'am."

Du Cann's townhouse is a garish, ostentatious thing – just what Alex would expect from a man who fritters away his money and then gets angry and childish when the money he borrows must be paid back. She hates the man already.

Hopping down from Cerberus, Alex ties the horse to a post outside and bends to slip the knife from her boot as Benson and Parker see to their own horses and weapons.

Hovering uncertainly behind her and looking rather adorably cautious for such a tall, muscular man, Benson wrings his hands together. "I hope you have a plan because he isn't going to deliver Master Smith into your hands without a fight."

She nods. "Yes, and I don't plan on leaving here without spilling his blood all over his no doubt hideous parlour so I'd say our expectations are perfectly aligned."

Benson sighs. "And what is the plan, my Lady?"

"I'm going in to get my husband." She slips her dagger into her sleeve and pulls back the hammer on her pistol. "I'll shoot anyone who gets in my way."

He stares at her. "That's it?"

"Have you got a better one?"

"Sounds perfect to me," Parker supplies grimly, stepping up to her side.

Alex glances at him with a grateful smile.

Benson frowns. "My Lady, when you married Master Smith, I promised him I would look after you whatever it took. I promised him I would guard you with my life -"

Alex presses a gentle hand to his arm, smiling softly. "Then I suppose you'd better tag along and keep me safe, hmm?"

He sighs, eyeing her with equals parts amusement and exasperation. Finally, he gives a terse nod. "Where you lead, I follow."

For all Benson's bluster about not having a plan, he seems to know exactly what he's doing. He assigns Parker the task of picking the lock on the front door and the two of them refuse to let her go in first, pushing her behind them and slipping into the house with their weapons drawn. They move silently through the dark house and Alex stays close behind them, peering into the shadows for any sign of Matt.

They barely make it out of the parlour before running into someone on the servants' staircase. Parker pushes her out of the way and she takes a step back, watching silently as Benson clap a hand over the servant's mouth and wrestles his arm behind his back. "Where is Lord Smith being kept?"

The servant squirms in his grasp, glaring.

Parker shoves the end of his knife against the man's throat. His struggle ceases instantly as his eyes go wide. "My friend is going to remove his hand. You will tell us where Lord Smith is. If you try to scream, I will slit your throat. Understood?"

The servant nods shakily and Alex crosses her arms over her chest, feeling a bit childishly left out. She can threaten just as well as Parker. Matt has taught her nothing if not how to take care of herself.

When Benson removes his hand from his mouth, the servant stutters out quietly, "H-he's upstairs.

In the attic room."

"He's alive?" Alex feels tears of relief sting her eyes and quickly forces them away as the servant finally notices her standing behind them. "Is he hurt?"

Benson slaps the back of the servant's head when he continues to stare. "My Lady asked you a question, scum."

The servant cowers, flinching away from him. "He's alive, Ma'am. He might be hurt, I'm not sure."

"Do you know what your master planned to do with him?"

He gulps. "I don't know."

Parker edges his knife closer to his throat, glowering.

The servant whimpers. "I mean, I think he might have wanted ransom. Or maybe he would have killed him outright for torching his carriage house. After he tortured him first."

Alex flinches, hands clenching into fists.

Parker hisses, knife pressed into the tender, white skin of the servant's neck.

"Please," the servant begs, squeezing his eyes shut. "Please, I'm sorry -"

"You are lucky I don't kill you now," Benson says quietly, a savage frown on his face. "I only refrain because we are in the presence of a lady. Leave this house without a sound or I will come after you and kill you in the street."

They watch him scurry off, leaving the house and running out into the street quiet as a church mouse. Parker glances over his shoulder, grinning at her expression. "You want the next one?"

Benson growls at him.

Parker laughs quietly and pushes past him, making a silent motion for them to follow him up the stairs. They run into a few more servants when they reach the next floor, all of whom receive the same rough treatment and ultimatum – leave quietly or die messily. They all choose the former. It seems as though all of du Cann's men have gone home and Alex wonders if he really thought no one was coming for Matt. He felt safe enough to send home his men and lay his head down to sleep without fearing for his safety. She marvels that the man must actually believe Matt has no one who would miss him, not even his wife and child. Matt was right about him – he really is nothing but a spoiled, dimwitted leech.

The last servant dealt with, Benson reaches for his pistol. "I'm going to find du Cann. Go to the attic for Master Smith." He looks to Parker, eyes solemn. "You take care of her, understand me?"

"Don't be daft, of course I will," Parker scowls. "Now go before we decide to leave you here in exchange for Master Smith."

Benson offers Alex one last glance and she nods once, smiling softly. "I'll be fine. Don't lose your temper." Grumbling about smart-mouthed teenage boys, Benson slinks off down the corridor, in search of du Cann's chambers. Alex turns to Parker, eyebrow raised. "Well come on then. I'm quite tired of all this silliness and more than ready to find my husband."

Parker offers a charming, sloppy salute and starts leading her in the opposite direction Benson had gone. "He's going to be very cross that you're here, you know." He snorts. "Not that he'll be angry with you. He'll be angry with me."

"Don't worry, dear," she says, feeling more lighthearted by the minute as they inch closer and closer to her husband. Nearly her entire day has been spent worrying about him and though it's only been a matter of hours since the last time she saw him or heard his voice, it feels like it's been years. She can't wait to be in his arms again. "I promise not to let him beat you too severely."

They both exchange an amused grin at the notion of Matt ever laying a hand to anyone in their household, rounding the corner and finding the staircase to the attic room right in front of them. The only problem, they realize quickly, is that du Cann hadn't been stupid enough to leave his home unguarded after all. Heart leaping into her chest at the sight of the burly man sitting on the staircase and watching them with amusement, Alex curls a hand into Parker's elbow and takes a step back.

"It's fine," he says, not taking his eyes off the man in front of them. "Just stay behind me."

She nods, watching the man stand slowly, as if he has all the time in the world. As if the sight of Lord Smith's wife and a young man clutching a knife bores him. She realizes why once he approaches them, reaching for the pistol tucked into the back of his trousers. She swallows, hand tightening around Parker's elbow. "Not to sound like I'm doubting your abilities or anything, dear, but I believe you've brought a knife to a gun fight."

"Astute as always, my Lady," he says dryly.

Du Cann's lackey grins broadly at them, pulling back the hammer of his pistol. "Which of you would like to go first?" His eyes fall on Alex, gaze tracing over her boots and trousers, her curls wild around her head. His smile widens. "You the missus, then? Might save you for last. It could be fun – watching your husband's face when I shoot you right in front of him."

Parker snarls at him. "How dare you speak to a lady like that, you miserable bastard."

"I don't see a lady," the man sneers. "But don't worry, I won't shoot her right away. We'll have a bit of fun first, her and me. Oh, the things I've heard about the lovely Mrs. Smith."

"You dare touch her and I'll -"

Alex lays a quelling hand on Parker's arm, feeling the seething young man's whole frame tremble with rage. Her eyes drift past du Cann's man, over his shoulder and up the staircase to the door at the top. Matt is behind that door. She'll do anything to get to him. "Hush, Parker." She pushes him out of the way, drawing her pistol. "I'll handle this."

His eyes widen. "Mistress -"

Her gaze cuts to him, sharp and full of meaning. "Stay out of the way, dear."

His jaw tightens and he nods once.

"Good lad," the man says, smirking. "Why don't you run along? And you, put down your little weapon before I get angry, hmm?"

She smiles coldly, forcing her hand not to shake as he steps closer. "I'm afraid I can't do that. I'm here for my husband and I'm not leaving without him."

He sighs and actually has the audacity to lower his weapon, as if a woman pointing a gun in his face isn't a danger to him. "And I'm afraid I can't let you do that. What say you forget about him, pet?"

Her finger twitches against the trigger, drawing his gaze. He doesn't notice Parker silently inching around them, knife in hand.

"He's nothing special, I can promise you. Just a thug in a nice suit."

"As opposed to you, then?" She lifts an eyebrow, silently fuming. "A thug in rags?"

He laughs softly. "At least I'm not trying to hide what I am. Your husband dresses like a gentleman but he's no better than a man like me. The only difference is he has money to buy a fancy title and I don't."

Parker is almost right behind him now but Alex refuses to look at him lest she give the game away. "That's where you're wrong, Sir. My husband could be a beggar on the street and he would still be twice the man you are."

He laughs, eyes dark as he rakes his gaze over her. "I can see why he married you. You've the spirit of a woman half your age."

She glowers.

"Come on," he says, still smiling. "Forget him. He's as good as dead once du Cann's done with him. Let's you and me get to know each other, yeah?"

"I'd sooner slit my own throat," she says, flashing a pleasant smile.

"That can be arranged if you don't play nice."

"You first."

At her nod, Parker finally attacks from behind. One arm around the man's chest to hold him in place, he brings the other around his neck, knife in hand. The man stiffens, eyes going wide, and for a moment, Alex thinks Parker might actually slit his throat. Her heart leaps in panic and she steps forward, hand outstretched but Parker speaks before she gets the chance to protest. "You can walk into this cupboard over here and let me lock you in, or I can kill you. Choose wisely."

"C-cupboard," the man stutters, swallowing hard.

Parker looks to her. "Take his gun, my Lady."

She steps closer cautiously, reaching for the man's gun in his holster, and he blatantly ogles her as she leans in. She wrinkles her nose, holding her breath as the repellent stench of body odor and ale overwhelms her. Grasping the weapon quickly, she yanks it out and stumbles back, gasping for clean air. She tucks the gun into her waistband, nodding to Parker.

He removes the knife from the man's throat, prodding it into his back instead as he marches him across the corridor to the tiny cupboard, shoving him in. "Sit." For a moment, Parker glances idly around, as if looking for something. Apparently not finding it, he shrugs and promptly stabs the man in the shoulder.

Alex cries out at the same time Parker's victim does, a hand over her mouth. "God in heaven – Parker, what -" She watches him pull out the bloodied knife, feeling a little ill as he stabs him again in the other shoulder, the blade slicing cleanly through fragile skin. "What are you doing?"

He pauses in the middle of slicing the man's calf open. "I couldn't find any rope."

"What – stop. That's enough."

He shrugs, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping off the blade. "We can't have him trying to escape."

She stares at him, mouth open.

He sighs. "It isn't going to kill him. Just… incapacitate him." Turning, he glares at the pale man crouched in the cupboard and bleeding everywhere. "Unfortunately."

Alex nods, slowly closing her gaping mouth.

Parker lifts a brow at her. "Not going to faint are you?"

"Of course not." She swallows again, wondering why it even affects her so. She has had to use her own dagger once before, but that was out of self-defense, not stabbing a man cornered in a cupboard. She knows how violent Matt and his underlings are. It's why people are so bloody frightened of them. But for the most part, Matt shields her from taking part or being witness to it. She supposes it's one thing to know something and another entirely to see it for herself. "I'm fine."

"Sure?"

She nods more firmly this time, lifting her eyes to meet Parker's. "I'm sure."

From inside the cupboard, the man coughs, bleeding profusely. Somehow, he still manages to find the energy to leer at Alex. "Such fire," he mumbles, lifting his head to look right at her. "Going to come in here and keep me warm, pet?"

All pity for the man vanishes at the leering request.

"Only my husband calls me that," she says coldly, and slams the cupboard door shut.

She's up the stairs and shoving at the attic door frantically before Parker can even tuck his knife and bloodied handkerchief away. The door is locked and no matter how she pushes and shoves, it refuses to budge. She lets out a frustrated cry and sinks to her knees on the landing, pressing her forehead to the wood as she calls through it, "Matt? Darling, can you hear me?"

She can't hear a response no matter how hard she listens and she squeezes her eyes shut, stroking the uneven wood grain beneath her fingertips and picturing her husband on the other side. He's in

there and he's fine. He has to be. What will she do if he isn't? It scares her, just what she might be capable of then.

"Try this." Parker towers over her, a key in hand. "It was in his trouser pocket."

Gasping, she snatches it from him and slides it into the lock, twisting the key with shaking hands. The attic door creaks open. Wiping hurriedly at her cheeks, Alex sniffles and scrambles to her feet, tripping through the door and into the small attic room. It isn't much and it's mostly bare, save for a small writing desk in the corner, a rickety wooden chair with peeling paint, a bookshelf with aging texts, and small cot in the middle of the room – where Matt is slumped over, chained to the bedpost.

Alex lets out a noise somewhere between a cry of relief and a sob, crossing the space between them before she even makes the conscious decision to move her feet. She drops to her knees at the side of the bed, turning her husband over gently. The first thing she notices is the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes and something horrible and tight comes unknotted in her chest at the sight. He's breathing. She can handle anything else so long as he keeps doing that. Quickly sweeping her gaze over him for injuries, she determines that while he's a bit bloodied and bruised, he doesn't appear to be seriously hurt.

She settles onto the bed and pulls him into her arms while Parker prowls the room looking for a key to the lock chaining Matt's wrist to the bed. "Matt? Darling, open your eyes." She shakes him gently, cradling his face in her hands. There's a cut above his eyebrow and another just beneath his jaw and she almost wants to march back down the attic stairs and put her own knife through the man trapped in the cupboard for harming this dear face she loves so very much. "Come on, darling. Look at me."

It isn't until a tear slips from her chin and onto his cheek that she even realizes she's crying again. She wonders if she'll ever stop. After hours of stress, hours of wondering if her husband was dead or alive, it's a welcome relief to have him in her arms now, but her body hasn't quite seemed to catch up yet. Her heart still races, her hands tremble and her eyes just keep filling up.

The moment he wakes, she imagines he'll tease her mercilessly for crying over him but she can't help it and can't even manage to be embarrassed about her incoherent, muffled sobbing in front of Parker. The boy has seen her in far worse shape today.

She pats Matt's cheek gently as Parker sweeps from the room and thunders back down the stairs. "Matthew," she whispers. "If you don't open your eyes right this moment I am inviting my parents to the manor for Christmas. And I'll ask them to stay an entire month."

As Parker's footsteps pound against the stairs on his way back up, Matt's eyes finally begin to flutter. Alex laughs softly, beaming down at him and stroking her fingers over his cheek.

"I thought that might rouse you."

He frowns up at her, eyes unfocused. "Alex?"

She nods, bending her head and kissing his forehead, cradling him against her. "I'm here, my love. How are you feeling?"

"Sore." He blinks groggily at her. "Why are you here?"

Carding her fingers through his hair, Alex laughs. "Well to rescue you, of course."

"On your own?" He looks somewhere between panicked and incensed, wincing as he struggles to sit up. "What in the buggering hell were you thinking? You could have been -"

Parker kneels next to her, another key in hand. "Not alone, Master Smith."

Matt stares at him. "And what are you doing here? You shouldn't have let her come. What do I keep you around for if you're just going to follow after her like a useless pup?"

"It was her idea!" Parker argues, eyes wide. "She insisted. You know how stubborn she can be. I knew I couldn't stop her but I could at least look after her."

Matt smirks tiredly. "Not here just to rescue me then?"

"No, Sir." Parker grins. "I'm quite happy to be rid of you."

"Such impudence." Matt sighs, looking worryingly exhausted, and Alex grips his hand tightly. "I shall whip you when we get home."

Parker nods, slipping the key into the lock and turning it. "I would expect nothing else, Sir."

Alex slips the metal cuff from around his wrist and tosses it away, rubbing her fingers tenderly over the red, aggravated skin. "Imagine, chaining you like an animal," she says, voice shaking with rage. "My poor darling." She presses her lips to his wrist. "Were they horrible to you?"

"I've treated men worse." He shrugs, letting her help him to sit up. Wrapping an arm around his waist, Alex leans into his side, unutterably grateful to have him with her again, even smelling of blood and sweat. Matt turns his face into her hair with a barely audible sigh as Parker crosses the room and peers down the attic stairs, no doubt listening for Benson. "Are you alright, pet?"

Her eyes mist over at the softly spoken question, filled with quiet concern for her. As if she were the one kidnapped and struck and chained to a bed like some sort of beast. She nods shakily, gripping his hand tightly, and doesn't trust herself to speak a word.

Matt sighs, pressing his mouth to her ear. "I'm sorry, love. I never meant to put you through this."

"I know."

He groans softly at the note of tears in her voice, drawing her closer. "I'm perfectly fine, Alex. Please don't cry." She shudders against him, struggling to swallow the lump in her throat, and he plants a rough kiss to her temple. "You know I can't stand it when you cry, pet."

"I'm sorry," she manages, sniffling as she blinks rapidly. Turning in his arms, she wraps herself around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck and breathing him in. "I've been so worried, my love."

"I know," he says gently, nearing crooning at her. "But everything is alright now."

Footsteps on the stairs send them springing apart, turning to stare at the attic door. Benson appears in the doorway, looking relieved to see Matt sitting up and coherent. "Master Smith," he greets. "You need to go."

Alex reluctantly lets go of her husband to stand and help him to his feet. "What about you?"

Benson purses his lips. "I need to take care of things here."

He says take care of things in such a way that Alex suspects the fate of du Cann and the man in the cupboard have already been decided and she feels her stomach churn uneasily but neither Matt nor Parker flinches at the notion. Instead, Matt looks more upset to see his stablehand than anything. "Benson? Christ, pet, did you bring the entire household along? Is Nora downstairs too?"

"Of course not, darling, don't be silly." She beams up at him, taking his hand and leading him toward the door. "It's past her bedtime."

It's nearing the wee hours of the morning when they finally arrive back at the manor. Alex leaves Parker to tend to the horses and takes her husband to bed, ignoring his grumbling that he is perfectly capable of undressing himself. She cleans his cuts and checks him thoroughly to make sure he hasn't broken any ribs or received any deep lacerations, before finally allowing him to sleep.

She sits beside the bed, holding his hand and staring avidly – drinking in every flutter of his lashes, every inhale and exhale, every twitch of his fingers around her wrist – until he drifts off to sleep. She forces herself to let go of his hand, kissing his knuckles and smoothing his hair from his brow, before leaving him to cross the hall and slip into Nora's bedroom.

The room is dark save for a lone candle across the room but as Alex draws closer, she can see Alastor still curled up at the foot of the bed and Nora fast asleep, snug beneath her blankets. She smiles in relief, stooping to kiss her forehead.

Nora stirs, blinking her eyes open. "Mummy?"

"Shh, I'm just checking on you, lovely," she whispers. "Go back to sleep."

She yawns. "Did you find Papa?"

Alex smiles widely, nodding. "Yes, I did. And he was very sorry he missed your lesson today." She leans in, kissing her cheek. "But he's home now. Safe and sound."

Nora nods sleepily, stifling another yawn. "Can I see him?"

"In the morning, sweetheart. Sleep now."

She waits until Nora falls asleep again before crossing the hall and shutting the door. In the dark, she strips off her boots and trousers, climbing into bed in Matt's shirt. Matt is a heavy sleeper under normal circumstances and as exhausted as he is, he doesn't even rouse as she tucks herself snugly into his side. Resting her head on his chest so she can hear the sound of his heartbeat, Alex shuts her eyes and tries to sleep, content in the knowledge that her husband is warm and safe beside her.

She wakes to the feel of long, clever fingers twisting in her curls and she smiles into the broad chest beneath her, blinking her eyes open. "Good morning."

He kisses the top of her head, rumbling in that sleepy voice she loves. "How are you feeling?"

Huffing, she props her chin up on his chest and frowns. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Matt shakes his head, eyeing her with concern. "I imagine you suffered a great deal more than I did yesterday."

"Yes, well." She glances away, swallowing thickly.

"Alex -"

She purses her lips, shaking her head. "I was afraid you were dead," she whispers. "I was afraid I would never see you again or hold you or kiss you -"

He threads his hand through the curls at the back of her head and pulls her toward him, his mouth claiming hers in a needy, desperate kiss. Alex returns it with fervor, her heart leaping as his lips slides hotly over hers. His mouth is like silk and she presses against him as he kisses her like he might never get the chance again. She whimpers when he pulls away.

"That's where you were wrong." He smirks, nipping at her nose playfully. "There will always be more kisses, pet."

She tries to smile for him but her lips tremble so she buries her face in his neck, clinging to him. "You cannot leave me, do you understand?" She shuts her eyes, letting him wrap her in his arms. "I wouldn't survive it."

"And you think I would fare any better?" He asks gruffly, his breath stirring her hair. "What were you thinking gallivanting off in the middle of the night on some half-arsed rescue mission? Anything could have happened to you -"

"I only had to rescue you because you lied to me!" She lifts her head, frowning, and Matt instantly quiets, looking guilty. "You said he paid you. You said everything was fine."

"I didn't want to worry you," he mumbles, scowling.

"Fat lot of good that did you," she snaps, and moves to sit up.

Matt grasps her wrist, keeping her in place, his eyes dark and contrite. "Don't be angry with me."

"I'm not angry." She sighs, settling back against him and running a hand through her rumpled curls. "I'm scared."

He frowns. "I don't want you to be afraid."

"I am always afraid for you, darling." She traces soft fingers over his cheekbone, avoiding his gaze. "That isn't going to change. But you can help by not keeping me in the dark. We're supposed to be partners, aren't we? Equals?"

"Of course we are." He lifts his hand to grip hers, his fingers squeezing tightly.

"Then I need you to treat me like one." She laces their fingers together, stroking his knuckles with her thumb, her gaze weighted with meaning as she looks at him. "Stop hiding things from me you think I'm too weak to handle."

He sets his jaw, bristling. "I do not think you're weak."

"Oh?" She lifts a brow. "Could have fooled me. Protecting your little wife, far too fragile to handle all this manly business -"

"Stop." He frowns at her, brow furrowed. "That isn't what I was doing."

"What were you doing?"

"I don't know," he snaps, looking frustrated. "But it wasn't that. You're more than capable of handling these things. I just don't like it when you worry, that's all. I want you to feel safe, alright?"

"How can I feel safe when I know you could be hiding things from me?" She smoothes a hand over his brow, watching him lean into her touch. "I need you to promise me there will be no more secrets between us."

He nods slowly, his eyes softening. "If that's what you want."

"It's what I want." She threads a hand through his hair, smiling softly. "Now kiss me again, please."

The words are barely spoken before he crushes his mouth against hers, surprising even her with his fervency. He's relentless in his passion, pressing kiss after impatient kiss against her mouth and giving her no time at all to breathe. She doesn't let her starved lungs stop her from moving to straddle his waist, her hands clutching at his head to keep him just where she wants him.

He strokes his tongue hungrily against hers, his hands slipping beneath her shirt to roam over bare skin. His fingers slide up her sides and stroke her breasts but Alex keeps him pinned to the bed, reaching between them for his length, hard against her thigh.

Matt growls at her touch, hips lifting as she wraps a hand around him and strokes. He's hot and slick against her palm but his skin is like velvet. She brushes her thumb over the swollen head of his erection and watches him twitch, gasping.

"Never, ever put me through that again," she breathes. When their lips meet this time, it is bruising and full of punishment. It makes her toes curl into the sheets.

"Never," he swears, biting his way down her neck and chest. One of his hands struggles with the button on her shirt and the other slides between her legs, making her gasp. He makes a gruff noise of approval at how wet he finds her and she shifts closer, clutching at his shoulders. He nips at the side of her neck, abandoning her shirt buttons as a lost cause. "Come here," he says urgently, eyes nearly black. "Now."

Alex nods hurriedly, just as eager to be filled as he is to be inside her. She sinks down on him slowly, head tipped back, and draws the most deliciously guttural moan from the man panting beneath her. He clutches at her thighs as she begins to move, too keen to have him to bother waiting for either of them to adjust. His jaw clenches, burning eyes boring into her as he rocks his hips, silently urging her to move harder, faster. She bites her lip against a moan but the moment she circles her hips, she feels her vision swim and all thoughts of being quiet flee from her mind.

She throws her head back, his name an obscene cry on her lips. He feels so good, pushing deep inside again and again, and it's only here with him that she feels safe and loved, more desired than any creature on God's earth. He's alive and whole beneath her but oh god, what if she'd lost him? What would she do without this dark, wonderful, terrible man?

Alex stifles a sob, dropping her hands to his stomach to steady herself. Matt shushes her softly, one strong hand curling around her hip. His fingers bite into her flesh as he guides her hips steadily against his. "That's it, pet," he croons. "Just like this. Together." He tips his head back, watching her closely. "You are stunning."

She bites her lip, curls slipping into her eyes, and feels herself flush under his intense scrutiny. He looks at her like he can see all of her – every fear, every doubt, every hope and dream. He looks at her like he can see her very soul and he has never gazed upon anything so beautiful.

She feels her body start to tense – her abdomen and the dip of her spine burning with pleasure and her sex beginning its soft clenching around him. Matt swears under his breath, gripping her tighter. "Touch yourself," he orders gruffly, his eyes dark and wild. "Let me see you – oh yes, that's it.

Good girl."

Stroking the swollen flesh between her thighs and seconds from tipping over the edge, she whimpers. The moment she does, Matt bends his knees, feet planted firmly on the mattress, and thrusts up up up. Alex cries out sharply from mingled shock and delight, her whole body trembling as she free falls into her release. She's so lost in pleasure she barely feels Matt's bruising grip anymore. She fights for breath, flushed and sweaty, still fluttering wetly around his length.

He grinds against her twice, three times before letting out a helpless groan and stiffening beneath her. Alex drops against his heaving chest, settling there with her nose buried in the crook of his neck. Matt threads a hand through her hair, cradling her to him.

After a quiet moment spent clinging to each other and catching their breath, he clears his throat and Alex struggles to open her eyes and pay attention. "Thank you," he says softly. "For coming to my rescue, pet."

She laughs, lifting her head. "What did you expect me to do? Leave you there?" Without giving him the chance to give an undoubtedly silly reply, she kisses him slowly, mouth brushing his again and again, savoring him. When they part, he keeps his eyes shut, brow furrowed. She sighs, tracing her fingertip softly down his nose and over his chin. "Maybe I might have once but that was a very long time ago and I'll thank you to forget it was ever like that between us. I love you, darling. We all do."

His eyes flutter open to look at her. No matter how often she says it, he still stares at her like he had the first time – like he can't quite believe he could be so fortunate. Her ridiculous, grumpy husband. She wonders if he'll ever get used to having people who care, people who would and did kill for him.

"Darling, about Parker…"

He frowns. "What about him?"

"He stabbed a man because he couldn't find any rope." She frowns at his blank expression. "And Benson – darling, he killed for you."

"He's done it before." Matt strokes a hand over her hair. "Surely you knew that."

She nods slowly. "I suspected."

"Does it bother you?"

"I'm not sure." She sighs, biting her lip. "That's what you hired him for, I know. I suppose I just

don't like to think about it. And Nora spends so much time with Parker."

Matt shakes his head, looking faintly amused. "You don't honestly believe he would ever harm her?"

"No, of course not." She shakes her head firmly, surprised by how convicted she feels about the matter. "He'd harm himself first. But she looks up to him. I don't want him, I don't know, teaching her things."

"The only thing Parker teaches her is how to be unwaveringly patient." He chuckles softly and the fact that he isn't the least bit concerned somehow takes away some of her own anxieties. "He leaves the other things to us. I've made sure of that." When she still says nothing, he slips his hand into hers, squeezing lightly. "He hasn't killed anyone, if that's what you need to hear."

"Is it the truth?"

"Of course it is." He kisses her knuckles. "No more secrets, remember?"

"Will he?" She swallows. "One day?"

Matt blinks, glancing away.

"No more secrets," she reminds him gently.

He scratches at his cheek and lifts his eyes to hers. "I don't know. Possibly. But not now. Not for a while."

She nods slowly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "Alright then."

He raises a thin brow at her, lips quirking. "Alright then?"

"I trust you." She purses her lips against a smile, earning a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose. "I trust them. They're like family to me." She huffs, shaking her head. "Imagine, pickpockets and

murderers and bloody loan sharks for family. How am I ever going to raise a proper young lady in this house?"

"You won't, pet." He laughs softly, thumb slipping over her cheek as he slides a hand into her hair. "She wouldn't have it any other way, you know."

"No." Alex smiles. "Neither would I."

even the daughter of gods must know loneliness

Chapter Summary

He prefers the company of only his wife and child and other people make him cross but Nora is young and without the burdens he bears. Raising her all these years, he thought he was giving her everything she could possibly want when all along he has deprived her of the one thing even he cannot buy.

Chapter Notes

Story title from Letter from Hades to Persephone by Clementine Von Radics.

"Make a wish, my darling birthday girl!"

The dining room is filled with relatives –Laura and James and their two children, Nicola and her sons, and Alex's parents – but for once no one is arguing or glaring or even annoyed, not even Matt. They're all far too busy celebrating the little girl that had stumbled into their lives years ago, a pint-sized gift in a dirty dress.

Matt watches in quiet amusement as Nora flushes over the glow of the candle in her cake, avoiding the eyes of her family gathered around her – particularly her mother, who prods her again. "Go on, my love. Your wish is going to expire."

Nora huffs, looking flustered. "Wishes don't expire, Mother. They aren't even -"

"Just because it's your birthday," Alex begins with a frown, gently patting the top of her head, "doesn't mean you're permitted to argue with your mother. Isn't that right, darling?"

Matt grunts in agreement and Nora finds his eyes over her cake, glaring a little when she finds him smirking at her. "You heard your mother."

"Very well," she mumbles, and shuts her eyes. After a suitable few seconds have passed – just enough to satisfy Alex – she leans forward and blows out the candle. Opening her eyes as everyone around her claps, Nora keeps her gaze on the table, her cheeks pink.

Alex beams, bending over the back of Nora's chair and wrapping her arms around her daughter from behind. Kissing her cheek, she whispers, "What did you wish for?"

Nora shakes her head, pursing her lips. "Can't tell, remember?"

"That's my girl." Alex winks, squeezing her shoulder.

As Alex slips back to his side, sinking into the dining chair next to him, two of the serving girls part the crowd of well-wishers around Nora to wheel the cake away to the kitchen to cut it into slices and send it back out. Matt watches his daughter begin to relax as people file away back to their own chairs, wishing she had inherited her mother's uncanny knack for charming absolutely anybody.

Next to him, Alex chats across the table with his sister and her mother, smiling widely and enjoying being in the company of those she loves. Even so, slips her hand into his beneath the table and gives his fingers a squeeze, as if to silently convey that the celebration is almost over and they'll be alone again soon. He strokes his thumb over her knuckles in thanks, watching Nora slip from her chair and scurry from the room.

She stops in the doorway, lurking in the shadowed corridor just outside, and he sighs, wishing he could join her in running away from the cheerful chatter around him. All of this socializing is starting to give him a headache. Alex can go on like this for hours, entertaining everyone and playing the perfect hostess, never letting on that she'd rather be anywhere else. He, on the other hand, wants very much to be in his study with a glass of brandy and his wife warm and pliant on his lap. He isn't very talented at pretending otherwise.

Nora, he has noticed over the years, is much the same. She shies from being the center of attention, a solitary creature just as her father is. Crowds, even crowds of people she loves and who love her, make her ill tempered and skittish. As she tells Alex often, she much prefers the company of servants and horses.

He watches her blue eyes light up as she lingers just outside the dining room, looking lovely in her blue gown, her dark hair in an intricate braid down her back. He already knows exactly who she's looking at before Parker even comes into view, frowning as the boy stops right in front of his daughter. Lately, Matt has begun to wonder if Nora doesn't prefer the company of one servant in particular.

Parker stops right in front of her, not quite meeting her eyes, and even from here, Matt can see that

the boy is blushing up to his ears. Nora giggles at him, a hand covering her mouth, but the laughter ceases almost immediately as Parker shyly offers her a small, meticulously wrapped package.

With a small intake of breath, Nora lifts her eyes to his and Parker stammers out something that looks suspiciously like 'Happy Birthday, Miss Nora' though Matt can't hear him from where he sits. Nora's lips quirk in a little smile and she takes the gift from him, hugging it to her chest.

Matt wrenches his gaze away with a scowl, feeling the urge to get up and yank the two of them apart despite trusting Parker to never lay even a finger on his daughter. The boy is far too loyal to him to even think about it. At least, he'd better be.

His scowl deepens and Alex leans into his side while the others around the table are preoccupied with the arrival of cake. "Stop looking so scary," she teases quietly, her curls tickling his jaw. "It's almost over."

He forces his facial muscles into a more relaxed expression as Nora slinks back in and takes her seat of honor at the head of the table, looking flushed and happy but without Parker or his gift in sight. Pushing worrying thoughts about his footman and his little girl far from his mind, Matt tightens his grip on Alex's hand and attempts to at least pay attention to the happy conversations going on around the table.

Tomorrow, he can worry. Today, his little girl is seventeen.

Later that night, once all of their guests have retired to bed and Matt has managed to hide away in his study for a much-needed cigar, the manor is blessedly quiet once more. He climbs the creaking stairs slowly, feeling worn out from being around so many people at once, and trails his hand over the wooden banister, looking forward to having the house and his wife to himself tomorrow, once their families leave to journey to their own homes.

He knows Alex enjoys having a full house and for her sake, he will feel perhaps a twinge of regret at seeing them go but he knows she'll recover easily enough. By mid-afternoon, she'll be pestering him in his study and refusing to let him get any work done because she has missed being alone with him so terribly.

Smiling to himself at the thought, Matt slows to a stop in the corridor outside of his daughter's

chambers and knocks softly. "You can come in, Papa."

He huffs in annoyance, opening her door and slipping inside.

Sitting on her bed with a book open in her lap, Nora watches him triumphantly. "I knew it was you. No one else in the manor stalks through the corridors like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you own it and wish everyone to know it."

"I do own it," he grumbles, idly scanning her dresser. It's littered with little trinkets from her birthday celebration and he quickly checks to see if there's a gift sitting there that he doesn't recognize – the one from Parker she must have opened in private. "And I do not stalk."

Nora bites her lip, grinning as he settles onto the edge of her bed. "Yes, Father."

He eyes her with annoyance. "Has your mother been to bid you goodnight or is she as fed up with you as I am?"

She rolls her eyes heavenward. "She was already here. You missed her by about ten minutes but I'm sure she's still awake and waiting for you."

Knowing that it's very likely that Alex is indeed waiting up for him in their bed, Matt scowls and turns away from his daughter, hoping she doesn't see his blush. "Did you enjoy your birthday?"

In the mirror across the room, he catches a glimpse of Nora nodding eagerly. "Though I wish Mother hadn't invited absolutely everyone. I would have been quite happy with only the three of us."

"They're your family," he says, reiterating what Alex kept telling him weeks ago when she sent out the invitations. "They wanted to celebrate with you."

Nora makes a noise that indicates she knows she's hearing her mother's words come out of his mouth. "I know you didn't want them here either, you know."

He snorts softly. "Yes well, I'd rather you didn't follow in your father's footsteps in all things, poppet."

"Why not?" Nora frowns, putting aside her book. She links her arm through his and leans her head on his shoulder, smiling brightly when he turns to look down at her. She's a petite little thing, he thinks fondly. Even her features are small – tiny hands, small mouth and button nose. Her eyes are huge by comparison, wide and guileless as she blinks up at him. "I think we're quite an amiable pair."

He forces back a smile, kissing her temple. "Thank you for indulging your mother."

She nods, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder and yawning. "I learned that from you."

"Well, at least I've taught you something other than violence and bloodshed," he murmurs, watching her clasp his hand. He's never seen the bracelet she's wearing around her wrist, a delicate looking, beaded thing that looks suspiciously exotic… like something a gypsy would make. He can't help wondering if Parker had actually made it himself or if he'd stolen it.

"And a love of brandy," Nora counters softly, sounding sleepy. "Don't forget that."

"Of course not." His lips quirk and he shakes his head. "Just as long as your mother never, ever finds out. She'll skin us both."

Nora shakes her head firmly. "Mother would never kill us. She has put far too much effort into us to give up now. And I imagine finding a new family would be such hard work."

Sighing, Matt kisses her temple again and rises from her bed. "Let's hope we never find out, hmm? Get some rest, silly girl."

Nora grins impishly, blue eyes bright but already half-asleep. "Goodnight, Papa."

As Nora predicted, Alex is awake and waiting for him when he finally slips into their room but

she isn't in bed. Instead, she's only just starting to take her hair down, sitting at her vanity and frowning contemplatively into the mirror.

"Pet?" He asks, concerned when she says nothing at his entrance.

For a moment, she says nothing, studying her reflection and meticulously removing pin after pin from her wild curls. Finally, she sighs and mutters, "I'm getting old."

He scowls, shutting the door behind him and loosening his cravat as he wanders up behind her. "You're not."

"Am," she replies instantly, leaning in close and examining those lines around her eyes she thinks he doesn't know she frets over. "In fact, getting old seems a bit generous. I believe I've already arrived."

He stares at her in the mirror, flummoxed. "You are utterly ridiculous."

"Yes, thank you, now I feel better." She fixes him with a reproving look in the mirror and he frowns at her, dropping a hand to press lightly against her back. She leans into the touch, finding his eyes and holding his gaze. "I don't want to be old. I want to be young and pretty."

"You've never been merely pretty," he snaps. "Pretty is vastly inadequate to describe you." She bites back a smile, dropping her eyes like she's a shy young girl instead of the woman he knows is fully capable of holding her own against not only him but thugs twice her size. "And in case you haven't noticed, I'm not quite as young as I used to be either, pet."

"You're still younger than I am." Alex lifts her chin stubbornly. "And men age more gracefully than women anyway, the whole sorry sodding lot of you."

He sighs, stooping to nuzzle his face against her sweet-smelling hair and wondering if somewhere along the way, he'd failed to show her just how attractive he will always find her. He's just as besotted with her now as he had been all those years ago, that first time she finally let him touch her. "That may be," he murmurs, enjoying the way she arches into his questing fingers. "But you are still the most beautiful creature I've ever had the fortune to marry."

Alex snorts, dropping her head and letting him trail his mouth along the elegant line of her throat.

He nips at her skin, one hand threading itself through her curls, just as soft and vibrant as they've always been, with light, almost iridescent streaks of silver twisting through golden hair. He loves the contrast. He twines a curl around his finger and marvels that he found a woman willing to put up with him for such a long time. "You've never been one to worry about aging gracefully, pet."

She sighs, turning to face him and wrapping a small hand around the back of his neck, pressing her face into his loosened cravat. "It's Nora," she says softly. "I'm worried about her."

He frowns, settling onto the vanity bench next to her and letting her cling to the front of his jacket. "What's the matter with her?"

"Nothing, darling. She's perfect." Alex laughs softly. "But she's getting older. And so are we." At his furrowed brow, she sighs patiently and takes his face in her hands. "We won't always be here, my love. I don't want her to be alone."

"She won't be alone." He frowns. "She'll have the servants. And her cousins -"

"Who will be off having their own lives," she interrupts softly. "And servants are hardly the companionship I was hoping for."

With a sense of dread as he realizes exactly where she is headed with this conversation, Matt scowls darkly. "She'll have friends."

"What friends?" Alex shakes her head. "In case you failed to notice, darling, your daughter just had a birthday celebration without one friend in attendance. She doesn't have friends. We live too far from town and quite honestly, people are too afraid of us."

He frowns, silent, and feels something twist painfully in his chest. He never meant for his reputation to affect Nora so aversely. He prefers the company of only his wife and child and other people make him cross but Nora is young and without the burdens he bears. Raising her all these years, he thought he was giving her everything she could possibly want when all along he has deprived her of the one thing even he cannot buy.

Alex brushes a thumb softly over his cheek. "I didn't bring this up to make you feel guilty, darling. I'm just as much to blame as you are."

He says nothing, unconvinced.

"I had a chat with Laura after dinner tonight," she continues cautiously, eyeing him like she knows he won't be happy with what she has to say. "She offered to help integrate Nora into society. Their reputation is much less – well, terrifying – than ours is. And with her help and the promise of marrying into our money, I believe it won't be any trouble to find Nora a suitable match." Alex bites her lip when he clenches his jaw, his eyes narrowing. "It's time she started thinking about suitors, darling."

"No."

"Matt -"

He shakes his head firmly. "I will not hand her over to some worthless boy who can't possibly appreciate her the way he should," he snaps. "And furthermore, I refuse to parade her about at parties and play nice so that she may find this worthless boy."

"No one is handing Nora over. She isn't a possession, darling." Alex sighs. "I'm hardly going to force her if she doesn't wish to marry someone. It will be her choice. But right now, she hasn't any options at all!"

Briefly, his mind flickers back to Parker, shy and respectful, offering Nora a small token for her birthday. He quickly shakes the thought away, unsure of just how he feels about his daughter with anyone, let alone Parker. A servant, no matter how beloved by the family, is hardly the suitable match Alex is referring to.

Tucking gentle fingers under his chin, Alex tips his head up until he looks her square in the eye, her expression soft but unmoving. She will not be swayed on this matter. His shoulders sag a little at the realization. "She deserves this," she whispers. "She deserves to find love, just as you and I did. Would you really condemn her to a life of loneliness because you want to be selfish and keep her here forever?"

He squares his jaw, feeling a muscle jump in his cheek. "If I did?"

Alex smiles, shaking her head. "You wouldn't." Her fingers slip from his chin, up to stroke his fringe from his forehead. "I know you too well, my love."

He huffs, allowing her to sidle closer and press her forehead against his, green eyes twinkling as she watches him. "She won't be happy."

"She's your daughter." Alex smirks. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

"But I don't want to get married!"

Slouched in an armchair in the parlour and looking utterly devastated, Nora gazes at them with tears swimming in her eyes, as if they'd just told her they were throwing her out of the house and forcing her to become a scullery maid. Matt shifts guiltily on the settee next to Alex, where she'd insisted he sit to show a united front. And they are united. If Alex believes this is for the best, then it is. But it doesn't make this any easier.

Beside him, Alex clings to his hand and he knows he isn't the only one struggling. The notion relaxes him somewhat and he clears his throat, managing, "No one is forcing you."

Alex nods quickly in agreement, her expression the picture of motherly understanding. "Absolutely not. I would never force you to marry someone you don't love, sweetheart, but it's time for us to stop hiding away and pretending the world doesn't exist. If you ever want to get married, you have to be more sociable. I want you to make friends, have options."

Nora crosses her arms stubbornly, lifting her chin and looking so much like her mother that Matt can't help a shudder of quiet terror. One would never guess they weren't actually related by blood. "And if I don't ever want to get married?"

"You don't mean that." Alex watches her with infinite patience, her eyes soft and knowing under Nora's chilly gaze. "No one wants to be alone forever, my love. Even your father could only stand the isolation for so long before he had to trick my parents into giving him a wife." She smirks and Matt glares her. "Not that I fault him for his taste."

She relinquishes his hand to stroke his cheek and Nora rolls her eyes at them. "Are you telling me to kidnap my groom?"

"Of course not." Alex drops her hand with a frown. "And your father never kidnapped me. I went willingly. Don't be disagreeable just because you're cross."

Nora harrumphs, glowering at the floor with such intensity Matt wonders how she doesn't set the rug alight. He glances at Alex, at a loss, but she isn't looking at him. Instead, she's studying their daughter with quiet contemplation, biting her lip thoughtfully.

Finally, she straightens and reaches for Matt's hand again, lacing their fingers together as she begins softly, "Nora, my love…" She trails off, waiting for Nora to lift her eyes from the floor. "The money you'll inherit will be more than enough to take care of you. You hardly need to marry for financial security. I only wish for you to have a lifelong companion, so if you would prefer more feminine company -"

Eyes widening, Nora gapes at her in silence.

"I'm sure there are plenty of lovely young girls out there who would adore you. It would never be a legal union, of course, but I hardly care about that -"

"Mother!" Nora is positively shrill and Alex halts mid-sentence, jumping a little. Matt tightens his grip on her fingers and offers Nora a reproving look. She instantly lowers her voice, still looking pink-cheeked and mortified. "I am not – that is, I don't -" She huffs. "Female companionship won't be necessary."

"Oh, very well." Alex smiles brightly. "Then a male you shall have, my love."

Exasperated, Nora slouches back in her seat with a groan.

With Alex's blessing, Laura had spared no expense when preparing for Nora's coming out into society party and apparently it has had the intended result because the manor is brimming with potential suitors and their parents. As Matt walks through the house, weaving his way in and out of the endless sea of people in search of his wife, he tries his best to avoid direct eye contact with anyone, lest they try to stop him for a chat. The last thing he wants is for them to get the impression he has softened in any way merely because they've been invited into his home.

More people accepted the invitation than Alex had ever dreamed but Matt had known his daughter

would fetch a substantial array of people willing to form an alliance – those who are afraid of him and wish to align themselves out of some notion about keeping their enemies closer, and those who merely desire the financial security that marriage to Nora would give.

Matt grimaces as he moves through the crowd. Not one family is here specifically because of Nora, but because of what she can give them. It's hardly the sort of match he hoped for the girl. As he glares at the money-hungry families around him clambering to be introduced to his daughter and whore out their sons in the process, Matt finally spots Alex across the room, lingering near the staircase with a glass of champagne and looking just as tortured as he feels.

With a sigh, he snags the elbow of a waiter wandering the room with a tray of h'ordeurves. He ignores the young man's wide eyes and nods toward Alex with a gruff, "Lady Smith is hungry."

As the man nods hurriedly and makes his way toward Alex, Matt watches closely. She hasn't eaten all day and he's determined to make sure she remains in good spirits tonight even if he can't quite manage it himself.

Across the room, Alex smiles politely and waves away the young man and his tray. The waiter glances uneasily to Matt in the crowd, who glares and nods at him. The young man tries again, whispering something to Alex that makes her lift her head and search out Matt in the crowd.

Spying him watching her like a hawk, she purses her lips and just manages to refrain from rolling her eyes, snatching an h'ordeurve from the tray with a lifted brow as if to say happy now?

He narrows his eyes, waiting for her to take a bite.

This time, she does roll her eyes, but he smirks as she pops the whole thing into her mouth, immediately washing it down with a gulp of champagne. He nods his approval to the waiter, who looks relieved as he scurries away.

Slowly, Matt begins to wend his way through the crowded room toward his wife and she watches his approach with a small smile on her red lips, looking resplendent in a deep, rich gown of the same color. Her hair, swept up on top of her head, glitters every so often under the lights, showing off the small rubies woven through her curls. She looks befitting of some sort of dark goddess, like she belongs on the arm of Hades himself – proud and regal and unwilling to show mercy. By the time he reaches her side, Matt is just a little more in love with her than before. Even after all these years, she still makes his heart race.

"Enjoying your party, my dear?"

She eyes him with a trace of exasperation. "It isn't my party. Unless you're hoping to hand me off to some younger man." She lifts a brow. "Can't keep up with me anymore, darling?"

He presses a possessive hand against the small of her back, growling softly against her temple, and the smugness nearly radiates from her. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

She hums, tilting her head to regard him with a smile. "Good."

The urge to lean forward and kiss her in a room full of people is overwhelming and he quickly breaks eye contact, clearing his throat gruffly while Alex hides a pleased smile. "How is she?"

"Bored to tears, I imagine." She sighs, linking her arm through his and leaning into him, her warmth a comforting presence seeping into his side. "Not that I blame her. I never had to go through this sort of thing, thank heaven."

They both got lucky in that respect – no one else had wanted them and all that was left to do was wait patiently for each other. He wouldn't have had it any other way. "She may not find anyone who strikes her fancy," he cautions softly.

Alex nods, wringing her hands. "I know. But first impressions are often wrong – as you well know." She barely suppresses a smile, lifting her gaze to his and waiting for his faint nod. "Once this is over, boys will start coming to call on her. She'll be able to get to know them away from the crowds and the party. There's still hope."

He knows she means it to be encouraging but the idea of young men coming to call on Nora makes him clench his teeth. Through the crowd, he spots Nora across the room, looking lovely and a bit on edge with Laura at her elbow, introducing her to some nervous-looking fellow who fumbles with his cup of punch and blushes as he mutters a greeting. Laura pats them both on the shoulder, looking satisfied with her attempt at playing matchmaker, and glides away to no doubt order the waiters about.

Nora glances away from the boy, looking bored but somehow managing to remain polite and interested in the process as he begins talking to her hesitantly. He's a lanky thing, freckled and tall. Matt frowns, wondering if his daughter could possibly stoop to marrying a ginger. Surely they aren't quite that desperate yet.

Alex strokes her fingers over his balled fist soothingly, directing his attention to the couple approaching them. "Mr. and Mrs. Allen," she calls, mostly for his benefit, smiling widely. "How

are you this evening? Enjoying yourselves?"

She nudges Matt, who doesn't quite manage a smile but attempts not to look like he loathes their very existence. Mrs. Allen eyes him nervously anyway. "Of course," she says, directing her gaze back to his no less intimidating wife. "Thank you for inviting us, Lady Smith."

Alex tilts her head in acknowledgement. "How is your son? Leonard, was it?"

"Bernard," Mrs. Allen corrects, brown eyes flitting between Matt and Alex with uncertainty. "And he's very excited to be here. In fact, he's talking with your lovely daughter right now -" She gestures across the room, where only seconds ago, Nora had been attempting a polite conversation with the ginger boy. Now, however, Nora is nowhere to be seen and Bernard stands alone, looking abashed as he studies the punch in his cup.

Mrs. Allen furrows her brow.

Alex pastes on a frozen smile but the twinkle in her eyes is somewhere between amused and murderous. "My, the silly girl can never sit still," she says in a light voice that tells him between the two, she's closer to picking murderous.

Mrs. Allen attempts a befuddled smile, looking disappointed.

"Darling," Alex says, as Matt idly scans the room and does not see their daughter anywhere. "Why don't fetch her?" She turns back to Mr. and Mrs. Allen, still wearing that eerily still smile. "Such a shy thing."

He snorts under his breath, sliding his fingers softly over her elbow before slipping away and leaving her to dull chatter with the Allens. A quick search of the first floor reveals his daughter has somehow managed to escape the party so he heads upstairs and checks her chambers before wandering back down the stairs to the kitchens.

Iris, who had taken charge of the cooking after Hobbs left them to marry, stands over a stove looking harried and overheated, flicking sweat-damp hair from her eyes. Matt almost hates to interrupt her but he clears his throat anyway and ventures, "Haven't seen the imp, have you?"

Iris smiles despite how overworked she seems tonight, shaking her head. "Escaped, did she?"

"So it seems." He frowns, whirling to check elsewhere but Iris calls him back. He turns, eyeing her curiously. "Yes?"

She flushes, looking hesitant. "Nothing, Master Smith. Just… you might want to check the stables is all."

"The stables?" He asks in surprise, brows lifting. "Why would she be -"

Iris bites her lip, looking away guiltily.

Matt huffs, muttering his thanks, and turns on his heel, stalking out of the kitchen and down the corridor. Nora has always loved spending time in the stables with the horses, ever since she arrived when she was only a bit of a girl. She spends more time with her horse out on the moors than she does with actual people but lately, he's suspected she has an ulterior motive – at least since Parker started chaperoning her horseback riding and helping Benson care for the horses.

The two spend an inordinate amount of time together and always have. Parker used to look after her when she was a child and quite honestly, he never stopped, but things have changed recently. He doesn't look at Nora like his adorable little charge any longer and Nora no longer insults him and tortures him with her childish games. Instead, she steals peeks at him from beneath her lashes and teases him just to make him flustered. She drags him out onto the moors and everywhere else she pleases, more often than not getting the two of them into trouble Parker always has to get them out of.

Matt has tried his best to ignore what has been slowly developing between them. Parker is practically like a son to him and he's slowly been allowing him more and more responsibilities in his business. One day, he'd quite like to hand the whole thing over to the boy, once he's learned enough and built his own formidable reputation among their clients. Even so, he's hardly a suitable match for Nora.

Walking outside and into the night away from the bustling party is like a balm to his nerves and he exhales quietly, his breath ghosting in the chilly air. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his greatcoat, he walks slowly in the direction of the stables, taking his time. As he approaches, he can hear the teasing lilt of Nora's voice over the soft neighing of the horses.

"Not like that, idiot," she says, and Matt peers around the corner to see her batting Parker's hands away from Cerberus dark mane. "Here, like this. Mother taught me." He watches in silence as she deftly twists a small section of hair into a thick, neat braid. "See?"

Parker huffs, looking stranded between amusement and outrage. "That's what I was doing, isn't it?"

She shakes her head, laughing softly. "Hardly. Your hands are too clumsy."

He shrugs, glancing down at them with a frown. "Suppose so. Though it isn't often my hands are required to do silly things like braid."

"Silly? How dare you." Nora flicks her own braid over her shoulder and glares at him, looking completely out of place in her elaborate gown standing in the mucky stables with a servant boy. "It isn't silly just because you're rubbish at it, you know."

Parker looks contrite, ducking his head and letting his dark hair slip into his brown eyes. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he smiles softly and admits, "Sorry. You're right."

Nora eyes him suspiciously, clearly unused to any apologies from the young man. "Really?" She stands a little straighter. "I mean, of course I am. Good of you to admit it for once."

"For -" Parker snorts. "You're impossible. I pity the poor soul in there who'll end up having to put up with you!"

Nora freezes, the smile dropping from her face, and Parker flinches, glancing away. "Nora -"

She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around her middle. "Don't."

"You know I -"

"It doesn't matter, does it?" She lifts her head, eyes shining. "What good will it do us to admit it? Nothing will ever come of it because you respect my father more than you care for me."

"It isn't like that," he says, scowling as he reaches for her. "This isn't easy for me either, you know."

"Yes, hiding out here in the stables while I'm paraded about like a prize to be won," she snaps, blue eyes full of ice. "I can't imagine what you must be going through, poor thing."

"That isn't fair and you know it," he counters angrily, wrapping a hand around her delicate wrist. "You think I like seeing you like this? You think I won't be in agony every single time one of those money-grubbing simpletons comes to call? What do you want me to do? Your father will toss me out without even blinking. We'd never see each other again!"

"You're right." Nora lifts her chin, tears in her eyes as she lingers in his grasp. "This is so much better."

Parker flinches, dropping his eyes. "I don't know what to do."

"I won't marry any of them," she whispers. "Mother and Father won't force me."

"So you can become a lonely old maid?" He shakes his head. "I don't want that for you."

"Then perhaps you should do something about it," she says angrily. "You're wrong about my father. He loves us both. He would want us to be happy."

"Of course he would," Parker sighs. "But not together. I'm not – I'm not nearly good enough -"

"Don't you dare." Nora glares openly at him, fingers curling tightly around his. "Don't you dare even think you aren't good enough for me, you complete pillock."

Matt has heard enough. Chest aching and eyes burning, he clenches his jaw and steps into view. "Funny," he says quietly, but loud enough to make them both jump apart, looking guilty and wide-eyed. "This doesn't look like the party your mother and Laura spent weeks preparing for you."

Chin wobbling dangerously, Nora sniffs and meets his eyes, clearly wondering if he'd heard anything. Her ivory skin is flushed from the cold and embarrassment at being caught. Matt keeps his face carefully blink, dark eyes sliding from her to Parker, who scuffs at the ground with his boot and studiously avoids Matt's hard stare. "I'm sorry, Father. I just wanted a bit of air."

With a jerk of his head, Matt turns back to Nora. "Back inside."

She nods hurriedly, casting one last look at Parker before gathering her skirts in hand and walking swiftly to follow Matt out of the stables. She nearly trips in her haste to keep up with him, panting a little. "Papa, if you heard -"

He ignores her, mind still reeling from all that he'd overheard. He can't talk about it now. He needs time to think before he says anything about what just transpired between his daughter and his most favored right hand man. "Your mother went through a lot of trouble and a troubling amount of money to give you this party," he bites instead. "The least you can do is attend it."

"I was attending it!" Nora grabs his arm and makes him slow his rapid pace. "I told you, I just wanted some air. It's suffocating in there. And I never asked Mother to do any of this -"

"She's doing it for you."

"I don't want it!"

"You don't want it now." He stops walking, turning to face her just outside of the manor. The house is lit up from within, glowing warmly, and the sound of people inside can be heard from here, laughter and chatter the likes of which hasn't filled the house the entire time Matt has lived there. He probably shouldn't hate it as much as he does. "You will later." His mind drifts back to the stables. "No one is forcing you to marry now. Just be friendly, for god's sake. Make contacts." He settles a gentle hand on her shoulder as she frowns up at him but his gaze hardens. "But first, go inside and apologize to your mother."

Nora deflates instantly, all righteous indignation leaving her in an instant. "Is she angry with me?"

He sighs. "I believe she's more concerned that you're angry with her."

"She said that?"

"She would never." He smirks. "But I know."

Nora chews on her bottom lip, a terrible habit she'd picked up from Alex. "I never meant to make her think that."

"Of course not." He frowns. Alex and Nora are far more alike than either of them are willing to admit and they clash as mother and daughter often do but even an idiot could see how they adore each other. Nora seeks her approval far more often than she possibly even realizes. "But you might want to mention it to her."

They find Alex near the roaring fire when they make their way back inside and Matt realizes with amusement that she had somehow managed to escape the likes of Mr. and Mrs. Allen. Nora crosses the room and latches onto her mother, wrapping thin arms tightly around her. Alex stares over her shoulder at Matt in stunned silence but he merely shrugs, eyeing her fondly.

Slowly, Alex wraps her arms around her daughter's petite frame, drawing her close. "Not that I'm complaining, lovely," she says. "But what's all this then?"

Nora buries her face in her neck. "I'm sorry, Mum. I've been such a wretch lately."

"Well…" Alex sighs, smiling. "Yes, you have."

Nora laughs, clutching her all the tighter.

Alex smoothes back her daughter's hair, lifting her head to cup her sweet face in her hands. "But you learned from the best, I suppose."

They both turn to look at Matt and he has the oddest feeling of being turned against. He scowls at them, uncomfortable under their equally piercing stares, and they giggle, leaning into each other. "You're right," Nora says. "I never stood a chance, did I?"

"Ah, but he's our grumpy bugger," Alex points out, her eyes soft as she watches him.

He forces back a smile to see them getting along again after weeks of bickering but he must not quite manage it because Nora grins outright, turning to kiss her mother's cheek.

The quiet family moment in the midst of the lively party is broken as Laura bustles over to them with another boy in tow, her smile wide. "Nora, love, I want you to meet this lovely young man. His father owns his a winery, isn't that fascinating?"

Matt watches carefully as Nora pastes on a polite smile but her heart isn't in it. As she fiddles anxiously with the bracelet on her wrist – a delicate, beaded piece of jewelry entirely out of place with her elegant gown – he knows with a pang that her heart is somewhere else entirely.

"She's in love with the boy."

Alex lifts her head from her pillow, half-asleep and frowning adorably. "Sorry?"

He's been struggling with how to tell her for days, not quite sure what her reaction will be, but he hasn't kept anything like this from his wife since the early days of their marriage before she made him promise – no more secrets. Since then, it's become such a habit that he's been having trouble not just blurting it out over dinner with Nora sitting right there with them.

Suitors have come every day to see Nora and she hasn't shown the slightest interest in any of them, always escaping to the stables the first moment she can get away without being impolite. Armed with his new knowledge, Matt hasn't tried to stop her but he can't help feeling conflicted. He doesn't know what the right thing is and he won't know until Alex tells him. He needs her and keeping her in the dark about Nora and her feelings for Parker has been making him feel wretched anyway.

Next to him, Alex sits up and peers down at him. "Darling?"

He's been wide awake for an hour, long after Alex pulled a sheet up to her naked chest and curled sleepily into his side, breathing softly into his skin. He simply can't spend another night bearing the burden alone. "She's in love with -"

Alex lights up, scrambling beneath the sheet to crawl onto his lap eagerly. "She finally found one she fancied? Oh, darling – why didn't she tell me?" She looks hurt for only an instant before the overwhelming happiness takes over again, leaving her beaming excitedly down at him. "Oh, I'm so glad. I was beginning to wonder if I shouldn't have invited girls after all. So who is he? Did we meet him at the party?"

He shakes his head, caught between reluctance to tell her and distraction at having her very naked and warm in his lap. "Not exactly, no."

She frowns, some of her excitement fading at his evasiveness. "Who then? I still can't believe she told you before she told me."

"She didn't tell me, pet. I overheard her talking to him."

The spark of intrigue that lights up her eyes is quickly squashed as she tries to look stern. "Darling, were you eavesdropping?"

He squirms. "Not on purpose. You told me to find her -"

"Hang on, at the party? She fell in love at the party?" Alex looks positively delighted and he regrets that he'll have to snatch it all away from her in a moment.

"No, I believe it's been happening under our noses for quite some time," he says with a scowl, unhappy just thinking about it. At least he knows Parker is far too afraid of him to ever actually touch Nora.

All excitement gone now, Alex shifts on his lap and fists the sheet in her hand. "I don't understand."

He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face before dragging his fingers through his hair. "It's Parker."

"Parker?" Alex repeats, staring at him. "Our Parker?"

He nods, waiting.

Alex slowly slips off his lap and from the bed, dragging the sheet with her and leaving him bare. Her face blank, she begins to pace in silence. Matt sighs, reaching for his trousers.

She whirls to look at him suddenly, eyes wide. "Parker? Are you sure?"

"Unless they were practicing for some sort of very elaborate theatre production, I'm positive, my dear."

"But -" Alex shakes her head, fisting a hand in her curls before finally bursting out, "But he's too old for her!"

He barely suppresses a snort of laughter. "Eleven years between them is hardly anything. And you have very little room to talk, pet. You practically robbed the cradle, remember?"

She flushes, glaring, and looks more fetching than any woman has a right to wrapped in just a sheet. "You were doing the robbing, darling."

"Semantics," he counters, and sinks down onto the edge of their bed, patting the space next to him. Reluctantly, she joins him, settling onto the mattress and pressing her shoulder into his. He turns his head, kissing her temple. "What now?"

"I don't know," she confesses.

Glad that at least he isn't alone, Matt wraps an arm around her waist and waits patiently, sitting in silence while Alex gathers her thoughts. He's had a couple of days to get over the shock so he won't deny her the same if she needs it.

Thankfully, Alex is faster to process information than he is and after a few minutes, she muses aloud with a smile, "Parker, hmm?" She looks amused by the prospect. It's exactly the opposite of what he expected. Though to be honest, he wasn't sure what he expected. Alex has always been full of surprises. "I suppose it makes sense."

He grunts.

"You know," she says, her smile growing, "Now that I think about it, I have no idea why I didn't see it before. They spend so much time together and he's so protective of her but I never -" She sighs, frowning. "Why didn't she tell us?"

"She wanted to," he says gruffly. "I got the distinct feeling Parker didn't. Thought we'd toss him out and never let him see her again."

Alex makes a quiet noise of disbelief. "Silly boy," she scoffs. "How could he possibly think we'd do a thing like that? You treat him like a son and I -" She takes his hand, pursing her lips. "He was the first one I trusted here. This adorable little gypsy boy who looked after me and called me Missus." She smiles fondly. "I loved him even before I loved you."

He squeezes her hip, thoughtful as she leans against him.

"Well." Alex sighs. "I suppose you'll just have to set him straight."

He glances at her, brows raised.

Her eyes narrow and she looks every inch the fierce mother protecting her young. "For one thing, he'd better take very good care of our baby."

Matt blinks in surprise. "You're alright with our daughter marrying a servant?" He smirks at her. "What would people say?"

"You and I know very well Parker has always been more than a servant. He's like family. We might as well make it official." She sniffs, tossing her curls. "And I don't give a toss what people say as long as Nora is happy."

"There's my Alex," he murmurs, leaning in to kiss her soundly. "I thought I'd lost you."

He finds the boy in the stables, brushing down Nora's horse with particular care. He's always spoiled Nora's mare but Matt never paid much attention until now, lingering just outside the stables and watching him work. The signs have been there all along. He just hadn't bothered looking.

Parker has been a favorite of his since Matt found him – the first little boy to ever join the misfit orphans who work for him. Nora had been right about what she said the other night in the stables

– he does want Parker to be happy, even if it means being with Matt's beloved little girl if that's what she wants. He can't help feeling relieved that she'd known despite all his bluster that her happiness was more than enough to satisfy him.

"When you're through here," he begins, ignoring Parker when he jumps at the sudden sound of his voice. "I'd like you to meet me in my study. I have some work for you."

Parker grins, as pleased as ever to be given a task, and nods, "Yes, Sir." The boy is never happy unless he's busy – something Matt has always admired about him. "Finally going to trust me with that walking stick?"

Mouth twitching in amusement, Matt walks slowly toward him, watching him lead Nora's horse back into its stall. "You'll have to pry it from my cold, dead hand, boy."

Parker wriggles his brows. "Could be arranged."

"What was that? Did you say you wanted a lashing?"

The boy laughs brightly, brushing dark hair from his forehead. "That threat might work if I could remember the last time you ever raised a hand to me, Sir."

Matt harrumphs. "You would certainly deserve it if I did. Most impertinent footman I've ever had, you are."

"But still your favorite," he counters cheekily.

Matt ducks his head, nodding grimly. "Quite."

Parker stares at him, stunned by the admission, though they've both always known it was true. "Sir?"

"I have something a bit more precious to trust you with than a walking stick." Matt lifts his head, hazel eyes piercing into Parker's with just enough menace to keep the boy silent and still, holding

his gaze. "You'll take care of her."

It isn't a question but a threat – one both men know he'll have no trouble making good on.

Parker swallows audibly. "Master Smith, I -"

"There's no sense in denying it. I heard everything the other night."

Parker shakes his head. "I wasn't going to. I just wanted to say we've done nothing behind your back. I would never -"

"Lucky for you, boy, I know that." Matt eyes him meaningfully. "I trust you."

Parker flushes, eyes dropping to the floor. "That," he pauses, clearing his throat. "That means a great deal to me, Sir."

"And Nora means a great deal to her mother and me. We're trusting you with her, Parker."

He lifts his head again, nodding shakily. "I understand, Sir. I'll take care of her, I promise you."

Matt nods once, turning swiftly to go back to the manor.

"Sir?"

He pauses, looking back to Parker, who regards him with shining eyes. "Thank you."

Matt nods again, feeling rather inept. Alex should have come with him instead of volunteering to distract Nora from her morning ride long enough offer Parker their blessing. She'd left him alone with this task on purpose, damn her.

"We've had a lot of young men come to call," he says fumblingly, eyes darting from Parker to the

floor and back again. "There isn't one of them Alex or I would trust with our daughter more than you." He clears his throat gruffly. "We couldn't have asked for better."

Parker looks like he might hug him and Matt is immensely grateful to hear Nora calling as she runs from the manor, dressed in her riding trousers and boots, long hair flying freely in the wind as she heads for the stables, grinning widely. "Parker, I've managed to talk Mother into sending away my suitors for the day and -"

She freezes in the doorway at the sight of Matt, nearly stumbling in surprise. Blinking innocently, she glances between her father and Parker, looking anxious. "Father? Is everything alright?"

Smiling a little, Matt nods beckons her closer. "I was just having a chat with your fiancé."

Nora gapes at him.

"Well, soon, I imagine." He glances back at Parker, frowning. "You are planning to marry her, aren't you? I never got around to asking your intentions."

Parker grins, nodding with uncharacteristic shyness as he glances behind Matt to Nora, who still hasn't moved. "If she'll have me."

"Good man."

"Papa?" Nora looks to him, blue eyes wide and bright with tears. "Really?"

He nods once awkwardly, quite ready to escape the entire situation before he finds himself in the middle of a group hug. "Really."

Nora squeals in delight, crossing the distance between them in an instance and throwing herself into his arms. Matt stumbles but catches himself, wrapping his arms tightly around the petite frame of his little girl. He breathes in the sweet scent of her hair and marvels at how quickly time has passed. It seems he only just brought her home on the back of his horse, this tiny, filthy creature with a healthy appetite and rags for clothes. And now she's a woman – fully-grown and absolutely beautiful, with Alex's spirit and his temper. He doesn't know how he'll manage to let go.

Nora clings to his shirt collar, sniffling. "Thank you, Papa."

He kisses her temple, a lump forming in his throat.

She lifts her head with hopeful eyes. "And Mother?"

"Is probably writing up an announcement for the paper as we speak."

Nora laughs, looking happier than he's seen her in weeks as she steps out of his arms. Part of him wants to pull her back and cling to her, refusing to ever let go. His fingers linger on the cuff of her sleeve for only a moment before she's gone, rushing to Parker. More prepared for the flurry of dark hair and limbs launching at him, Parker doesn't stumble. Instead he laughs, holding Nora to him like she's something to be treasured and revered, his face buried in her hair.

Matt glances away, his jaw clenched and his eyes stinging.

Alex is waiting for him when he steps into the manor, pausing in the middle of pacing anxiously. She doesn't speak, taking one look at his face before crossing the room and pulling him into her arms, his very own pillar of strength and understanding. He clings to her, burying his face in her curls.

She rubs her hand soothingly up and down his back. "You did the right thing."

He grunts.

She laughs softly, mouth brushing his ear. "You made them both happy."

"We've lost her," he mumbles into her neck.

"Hardly." She huffs quietly, fingers inching into his hair. "Parker works for you – where is he going to go?"

He lifts his head, understanding dawning. "Nowhere."

Alex winks.

"You -" He stops, frowning. "You thought of this last night, didn't you?"

Her smile twists into something terribly smug and oh, his brilliant little minx. He knew she was taking the news awfully well for a reason. Eyes tracing tenderly over his face, she says, "We're not losing her, darling. If anything, we've just made sure we'll never ever have to be without her."

She taps his chin and he snaps his mouth shut.

Sighing happily, she snuggles against his chest. "Think of the grandchildren."

He scowls. "I'd rather not."

Alex laughs, kissing just beneath his jaw. "You'll be happy when you have them."

"I'll be happy when you talk of something else," he snaps half-heartedly.

She lifts her head, grinning and undeterred. "You know, there is a way to get me to stop talking altogether but perhaps you'd like to discuss how many children they'll have. Nora is such a small thing but -"

He kisses her, threading his hands through her curls and drawing her roughly into him, silencing her in the only way he has ever figured out how. Alex grins into his mouth, hands cupping his face, and just for a little while, he allows her to distract him from all thoughts of losing their only baby or their baby having babies.

It isn't until much later in the day that he thinks on the subject again, sitting alone in his study and staring at an old drawing Nora had given him when she was a little girl – a crude sketch of her, Alex and himself standing outside the manor. He can still remember her little face when she gave it to him, the shy smile and the hopeful eyes until he praised her artwork and lifted her onto his knee. The way she'd snuggled close and kissed his cheek, her little hands fiddling with his cravat.

He quickly blinks away the sting in his eyes and stuffs the drawing back into the drawer he'd found it in. But…

Perhaps grandchildren might be nice.

In a few years.

Or twenty.

swear to love him wicked, swear to love him holy

Chapter Summary

She only just moved into his chambers last week and sometimes, despite the things they've done together and how quickly and easily their relationship has changed, she can't help feeling a little shy around her gruff husband, particularly when it comes to matters so intimate.

Chapter Notes

Part fifteen of the Persephone series. Written as a fill for an Anonymous request. Story title from On Loving A Monster by Emily Palermo.

She only just moved into his chambers last week and sometimes, despite the things they've done together and how quickly and easily their relationship has changed, she can't help feeling a little shy around her gruff husband, particularly when it comes to matters so intimate.

Sitting on their bed with her shift gathered clumsily around her hips and her cheeks flushed red, she ducks her head and worries her lip between her teeth. Only moments ago, they'd been wrapped around each other and Matt was kissing her so deeply she couldn't breathe but then he'd started trailing his hot mouth down her neck, drawing her shift up over her legs as he mumbled, "Let me see how you touch yourself."

Alex had frozen beneath him, hot and cold all over, and he'd noticed instantly – he pays attention, her new husband, even when she'd rather he didn't. He'd lifted his head and sat back on his knees, eyeing her calmly. Now, he watches her avoid his gaze and attempts a soft, "Alex?"

"I haven't, that is, I've never -" She swallows, mortified. "I don't know how."

She expects him to laugh at her inexperience or at the very least tease her for it, and she quickly tries to shove her shift back around her knees where it belongs. At his continued silence, she tucks her hair nervously behind her ears and risks a glance at him to find him watching her with the same adoration he always does. There is no humor in his gaze.

"I'm sorry," she says anyway, fidgeting. "I didn't mean to ruin the mood."

He snorts softly, reaching out a warm hand to stroke her knee. "You didn't ruin anything. I shouldn't have asked."

"No!" She lifts her head, startled at her own vehemence. She likes it that he's so open with her when they're together like this. She likes that he isn't afraid to talk to her, to ask her for something he wants. It's only fair, considering how often he relents to her whispered pleas. "I don't mind, darling. I like it."

His fingers slip up her thigh, drawing delicate, swirling patterns over her skin. She shudders, letting her legs fall open once more, but he ventures no further, still watching her closely. "I wasn't thinking. Your parents raised you Catholic and you've never had any other lovers -" He pauses here and she imagines he's trying very hard not to look pleased by this but he doesn't quite manage it, to her amusement. "Of course you don't know how."

She places her hand over his on her thigh, feeling brave under that gentle gaze. "Would you teach me?"

Whatever she asks, he always gives her if it's in his power to do so and this time is no different. He offers a crooked grin and nods, withdrawing his hand from beneath her shift. He settles against the headboard of their bed. "Come here, pet."

She crawls to him, her heart pounding eagerly, and he helps her settle between his legs, her back pressed against his chest. He's a warm, comforting weight behind her and she likes the soft rise and fall of his chest at her back as he breathes.

Mouth brushing her ear, he tugs at her shift and orders quietly, "Take this off."

She scrambles to do so, lifting the thin shift up and over her head, tossing it to the foot of the bed. The fire burning in the grate keeps her from feeling too chilly but she still shudders as the air hits her newly exposed skin, leaning back into her husband's warmth. He chuckles softly, big hands trailing up her arms and down her sides. His roaming fingers find her breasts and she lets her head fall back against his shoulder as he cups them in his hands, thumbs brushing over her pebbled nipples.

He drops his head to press a kiss to her bare shoulder. "Feel good?" He rumbles.

Of course it does. He knows it does.

She nods, biting her lip.

"Give me your hand," he says softly. She slips her palm into his and he guides it up to her chest. As she cups the weight of her breast, her instinct is to squeeze lightly and she does, earning a rumble of approval from Matt. "There you go," he breathes. "Just that way. Feel how lovely you are."

He surprises her by drawing her hand up to his mouth, licking her fingers. Her eyes flutter and he closes her fingers around her nipple, tightening his grip to make her pinch hard. She gasps, pressing her thighs together. "Darling -"

He hums softly right against her ear, the sound rumbling in his chest and right against her back. Together, they trail her fingers slowly down the valley between her breasts to her belly. Matt strokes her fingers over her skin, up and down her sides, finding all the spots that make her bite her lip and shift back against him, feeling him stiff and swollen against the curve of her bum.

"It's important to find where you're most sensitive," he instructs quietly against the shell of her ear. "Sometimes in places you wouldn't expect." He strokes her fingers over the inside of her wrist and she bites her lip. "Like here. Or here." Their fingers touch her collarbone, tracing the delicate lines carefully, and Alex whimpers, tilting her head back and spilling her hair over her shoulder. Matt nudges it out of the way, mouthing at her skin. "There are no rules, pet. Only what makes you aroused."

The sound of his voice alone is more than enough but she nods anyway, swallowing thickly. "W-where else?"

"What about here?" Ever so lightly, he rakes her nails across her hips, teasing her into another soft, wanton noise. He seems to enjoy the sound, pressing another kiss to the curve of her neck, wetter and just a touch biting this time.

She drops the hand he isn't holding to grip his thigh, fingers curling into his trousers. "Lower," she pleads, breathless.

He slides their joined hands between her legs, stroking her inner thighs and tracing whorls and patterns on her skin. Alex makes a soft noise of frustration and spreads her legs wider, drawing her knees up. Every single brush of their fingers on her skin sends heat trickling up her spine and

flaring low in her belly. She can feel sweat beginning to collect on her skin and she shifts again, deliberately pushing back against the bulge in Matt's trousers.

He hisses, nipping at her shoulder. "Behave." She pouts, turning her head, and he nuzzles his nose beneath her jaw. "I'm trying to teach you something, distracting minx."

She doesn't apologize but she turns back to the task at hand, watching their joined hands inch closer and closer to the throbbing warmth between her thighs. He teases her first, moving to pet the wiry curls around her sex, their fingers brushing over the coarse hair. Alex huffs impatiently, squirming, and he nips at her skin with his teeth in warning. She settles against him again, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her back.

The moment she settles placidly against him, letting him drag her hand where he will, he finally gives her what she wants. Their fingers brush lightly over her folds and behind her, she hears Matt's breath catch in his throat. "Let's find out how wet we've made you, hmm?"

She nods hurriedly, fingers twisting in the fabric of his trousers.

He heaves a quiet, heavenly little sigh when they push past the folds of her sex and find her as swollen and slick as she'd known she would be. She bites her lip against a whimper and Matt breathes hotly against the back of her neck. "Oh yes," he murmurs. "Feel how slippery you are?"

Her voices shakes as he drags their fingers up and down her sex, teasing her, but she manages a soft, "Uh-huh."

He laughs quietly at her incoherence, placing a soft kiss at her shoulder. "We'll take our time," he says. "I want you to know what you want and where you like to be touched."

She draws in a trembling breath, heels digging into the mattress as he presses their fingers hard against her entrance. "Anywhere you touch me is where I liked to be touched, darling."

His tongue darts out, tracing over the curve of her shoulder, and she shudders. "I don't want you to be afraid to ask for what you want, understand?"

She nods, licking her lips.

"Now," he rumbles, and outlines her dripping folds with their fingers. "What is this called?"

She blushes, shrugging.

He kisses her neck and whispers a filthy sounding word against her skin. "You can't tell me where you want my tongue if you don't know what it's called, can you?"

She shakes her head, her insides trembling, and repeats the word just to show him she's paying attention. He rewards her with a deep, satisfying stroke that makes her moan.

Enjoying the sound, he draws it out by letting their index fingers press briefly inside, just enough to prolong her quiet moans and make her hand dig into his thigh. And then he's withdrawing and sliding back up again. She nearly growls in frustration and he huffs out a breathless chuckle into her hair, hovering their fingers right over the top of her sex.

"Do you know what this is?"

She bites her lip, shaking her head. She doesn't know what it's called but she does know that every single time Matt touches her there, she feels as though she'll fly apart in his arms.

He circles their fingers lightly over the swollen little nub, making her breath hitch in her throat. "Feels amazing though, hmm?"

She giggles through her pleasure, humming. "Darling, you have no idea."

He smiles into her shoulder and it's such a rare occurrence to see him outright grin that she almost turns around just to catch a glimpse. "I have some idea, pet." He stops directly touching her, making her fingers trace just around the little button, torturing her. "You make the most delightful noises when I touch it."

She moans, shifting her hips.

"The clitoris is quite sensitive," he continues softly. "And absolutely necessary for orgasm."

Heavens, she loves hearing him talk like this. She has no idea how he manages to make everything sound so technical and yet still so utterly lewd but it makes her skin prickle and she writhes in his arms. He keeps up the delicious torment, using her own fingers to stroke and circle and toy with her clitoris until all she can do is whine and tug at his trouser leg, arching her back.

He doesn't let up. Instead, he makes it worse by pressing her fingers hard against that aching, sensitive little spot. She releases a shocked gasp, hips jerking, and his lips curl into a smirk against her neck. "Darling, you're supposed to be teaching me, not torturing me," she snaps, panting.

"Can't I do both?" He sounds amused, damn him. Even so, he finally abandons her clitoris and guides her with tantalizing slowness back to her entrance, circling their fingers over her opening. "Ready?"

She bites back a snippy, impatient remark, breathing in deeply. Focusing on the solid weight of him behind her, the increased rhythm of his heart against her back, the soft exhalations against the side of her neck, Alex lets go of the tension mounting in her body and suddenly feels nothing but overwhelming love and gratitude for the man holding her in his arms. He hasn't once made her feel silly or inexperienced, hasn't once tried to make her do anything she wasn't comfortable with. He has been patient and gentle and very, frustratingly thorough. Somehow, she loves him more now than she had when they'd tumbled into bed a few minutes ago.

She turns her head, smiling when he kisses her jaw tenderly. "I'm ready, my love."

At her assent, Matt guides her hand and together, they slip into the silken warmth of her body. She inhales sharply, eyes fluttering shut, and concentrates on the feeling of his fingers and hers slowly inching into her as her body adjusts to the fullness of their invasion. Two of his fingers and two of hers, pressed snugly inside and oh god, is this what he feels every time he thrusts? It's absolutely sinful and she's terribly glad she doesn't care about such things anymore.

"God in heaven," she breathes, rattled. "Is this what it feels like for you?"

"What?"

"So unbearably warm and -" She fumbles for a moment, distracted by their efforts. "Tight."

"Possibly," he rumbles, mouthing at her ear. "But more. Imagine how sensitive your clitoris is, but

everywhere."

She groans, suddenly hot all over. "No wonder you always make that wicked little noise."

She makes a similar noise now, lips parting on a breathy moan as Matt stifles an amused chuckle and withdraws their fingers, thrusting back in again. She settles more firmly against him, toes curling in the sheets as together, they stroke her from the inside. They map the tight, swelling walls of her sex with great care, pushing deeper each time. She finds a rhythm slowly and with his help, her head lolling back against his shoulder as her hips rock against their joined hands, drawing moans from her mouth and more of that slick moisture from her sex.

Matt follows the pace she sets with the slow rolling of her hips. "That's it, pet," he croons against her ear. "There you are, just like this."

He snatches her other hand from its death grip on his trouser leg, bringing it around and pressing two of her fingers against her swollen clit. The added stimulation only speeds up the slow build of heat in her belly and Alex bites back a high-pitched whine, throwing her head back.

Instantly dropping his face into the crook of her neck, Matt suckles lightly on her skin, peering over her shoulder as they work together to bring her over the edge. "One last little trick," he whispers.

Without slowing their rhythm at all, he guides her fingers alongside his, curling all four of them just so. The next time Alex rocks her hips, the tips of their fingers brush and spark against some unholy, earth-shattering place deep within and for one brief, shining moment, she is aware of nothing else on earth but the rapid pounding of her heart and the way her whole body trembles violently around the questing fingers inside her.

She blinks away the dark spots dotting her vision and gasps, staring open-mouthed at the ceiling as her chest heaves. Matt says nothing, letting her recover, but he wraps a hand around her wrist and takes her fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean. Watching him, she feels her knees tremble and feels utterly thankful she's lying down.

"You," she finally manages, eyes dark and face flushed, "are quite the teacher."

He looks pleased to hear it, brushing aside her hair and dropping a lingering kiss to her shoulder. She stretches languidly, pointing her toes, before turning on her side and curling up against his chest. Matt wraps his arms around her waist and cradles her to him with seemingly no thought to

his own desire, though she promises herself she'll take care of him the moment she can think properly again.

It's only been a matter of days but she has found that these precious few minutes are her favorite, the moments just after they're together in the most personal and intimate sense; when her heart is still thudding erratically and the sweat hasn't quite dried on her skin, when Matt holds her close and his fingers trail whisper-soft over her flesh. She never feels closer to him than she does laid bare before his eyes. It's strange to think that only a short time ago, being so completely vulnerable in front of him would have horrified her. She smiles into the crook of his neck, marveling at how quickly she has grown to trust this terrible, soft-hearted man with absolutely every part of her.

He trails his fingers up and down her arm, his lips at her hair, and she realizes suddenly that the most incredible part of all this is that Matt – who was so closed off for so long, so silent and unreachable as her enemy and her jailer – is just as willing to be vulnerable in front of her. He trusts her. And that means more than any pearl necklace or pretty new dress.

Still, something niggles at the back of her mind – something that has bothered her since their first night together, if she's truly honest. That night was beautiful. It meant everything to her. She'd been so in love and so nervous and Matt had been so patient as he'd guided her. In all their encounters since then, she has come to the realization that her husband is very familiar with the female form. Alex had been utterly clueless that night, and still is in some ways – through no fault of her own, of course. It's simply how things are. Women are to remain chaste until marriage. What keeps her up some nights is that the same isn't expected of men.

A knot forms in her stomach, replacing the lazy bliss of only moments ago, and Alex can't help but wonder who else Matt trusted with all of him. Who else has seen him like this? The ball of anxiety in her stomach tightens. She doesn't like the idea of not being the first to see him so vulnerable. She bites her lip, nuzzling under his jaw and feeling irrationally jealous of women who came before her.

She doesn't say a word but Matt slides his hand up her back and into her hair, as if sensing the sudden tension in her body. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she says. "I'm being silly."

"I've no doubt." He kisses her temple, mouth trailing over her cheek. "Tell me anyway."

She sighs, feeling her cheeks flush as she admits, "I was thinking that I wished I could have been your first as you have been mine."

Matt freezes, unyielding as stone behind her. Grimacing, Alex worries her lip between her teeth and wishes she hadn't said anything. She hadn't even meant to. Ever since she married him, she has been at times brutally honest, and usually in an effort to offend him. She finds that even now, the habit of being truthful with her husband is a hard one to break. Finally, after another tense moment of silence, Matt ducks his head and buries his face in her hair. "So do I."

She swallows thickly at the admission, wondering who these women were and what they were like – what Matt was like with them. She wonders if they curled against him in this very same bed. She'd known there had to be others – a man with Matt's experience and money couldn't have been lonely long, even with his reputation – but the confirmation makes something twist painfully in her chest. "Did you love them?"

He sighs, a reluctant exhalation against the back of her neck. "Pet -"

"Please." She tilts her head back, meeting his dark gaze and studying the fathomless regret in them. "I want to know."

He shakes his head, lifting a hand to cradle her cheek. "No one ever meant a damn thing to me until you." She blinks away a sudden onslaught of tears and he groans, pressing their foreheads together. "I'm not nearly as experienced as you seem to think I am, dearest. I had a few trysts when I was much younger, fumbling and meaningless attempts before I gave up on people entirely and settled here to get away from them." His thumb sweeps over her cheek. "It was long before you."

She nods, more relieved than she'll ever admit that no other woman has ever been mistress of this house, even for a night. "Good."

His brows lift in surprise and the corner of his mouth twitches. "Jealous, pet?"

She frowns. "Wouldn't you be if you were in my place?" His eyes darken, that half-smile disappearing in an instant as a scowl takes its place. She laughs softly, brushing his hair from his forehead. "Not a nice feeling, is it?"

"I'd take it all back if I could," he says, capturing her hand in his. "Every last worthless second with anyone else."

Alex shakes her head, drawing in a quiet breath and pushing back the jealousy to smile at him. "I don't want you to regret your past, darling. You just didn't want to be alone. I could never fault you for that."

"It never worked," he confesses, and his voice is a deep, comforting rumble in his chest.

"Until me."

He chuckles softly. "Until the first time I looked at you."

Her smile widens and she feels inordinately proud of herself. "I don't think your trysts were quite so fumbling as you say, darling. You seem to know exactly what you're doing."

He pinches her side gently, just enough to make her squeak and curl into him. "I've read a lot since then."

She giggles. "You have naughty books?"

"They're not -" He scowls. "They're educational. As you can now testify."

Flushing at the reminder, Alex lifts her chin stubbornly. "Will you read them to me?"

"Possibly." He watches her with a smirk. "If you can show me what you've learned tonight. We can't move on until you get the first lesson right."

Swatting at his chest, Alex leans up to kiss him soundly, inexplicably thankful to be the one woman who mattered to a man who spent far too long caring about nothing at all.

she does know the earth is run by mothers

Chapter Summary

In the few short weeks since they've adopted the sweet Lenora, her taciturn husband has bonded easily and quickly with the girl while Alex flounders, wondering if she was meant for motherhood after all.

Chapter Notes

Story title from Persephone the Wanderer by Louise Gluck.

"Flower for Papa?"

The knees of her trousers muddy and soil smeared up to her elbows as she kneels in the dirt, planting new seeds, Alex glances up from her task and finds her daughter standing next to her, holding a violet starflower. The toddler bounces a bit on her heels, long hair slipping down her back and shy grin on her face. Her new trousers have remained miraculously pristine throughout their morning outdoors and Alex sighs, swiping her hair out of her eyes. "Absolutely, sweetheart. I'm sure he'll love it."

Nora beams, tucking the flower carefully into her pocket for safekeeping. "Now?"

She shakes her head. "When we're finished. Daddy is working right now anyway."

Pouting, Nora wanders away to inspect the begonias but the front door opens and Matt steps outside, eliciting a squeal from Nora, who runs right to him. He smiles, lifting her into his arms, and the two stand together in the yard, heads close together as Nora shows him the flower.

Alex pushes away the pang in her heart and turns back to the seeds in her hands, lips pursed. In the few short weeks since they've adopted the sweet Lenora, her taciturn husband has bonded easily and quickly with the girl while Alex flounders, wondering if she was meant for motherhood after all. It's only natural that Nora gravitates to the man who'd found her and carried her home on his horse. She's so attached to Matt and Alex loves her for it. She loves watching Matt so gentle with someone other than her, especially a child. Their child.

Even so, she can't help but wonder what it might be like to have that sort of affection and devotion from Nora. Matt settles Nora on her feet and Alex watches as the girl turns instantly and grasps his hand, pulling him with her. While part of her can't help being jealous that the two get along so well, it still warms her heart to see it. For all that he tries to act intimidating and unapproachable, children are always drawn to Matt. They see right through him to the softhearted man beneath.

As the two of them head in her direction, she stands swiftly, dusting off her dirty hands and only succeeding in smearing damp soil over her palms. "Away from your study before noon?" She asks teasingly, leaning in to kiss her husband. "I haven't forgotten our anniversary, have I?"

He follows her when she pulls away, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth. She can tell he's trying to frown at her but with her so near and Nora tugging on his trouser leg for attention, he can't quite manage it. "Actually, I was going to suggest we have lunch outside today but if you're going to insist on being disagreeable -"

She pecks his chin with a smile. "I think that sounds lovely."

Nora bounces on her toes between them, beaming. "A picnic!"

Alex laughs. "Not quite, lovely. I can't picture your daddy sitting on a blanket on the ground."

Matt scowls. "I am perfectly capable of having a normal picnic." She lifts a brow and he deflates. "I merely thought Nora might have trouble eating without a table. You said yourself you didn't want her getting her new trousers dirty."

Nora giggles, still clinging to his leg.

Shaking her head fondly, Alex sighs. "Where is it then?" He offers her his arm and she hesitates. "Darling, I'm filthy. I'll get your suit dirty."

He eyes her dubiously, arm still held out for her, and she gives in with a smile, latching onto his arm and letting him lead her around to the other side of the house, Nora toddling ahead after them. She doesn't know how he managed it without her hearing him but he'd actually gotten a table from the kitchens out of the house and in the yard. The fog is thick today so there isn't much of a view but if it were a clear day, they would have been able to look out across the moors with ease. The small table has been covered in a crisp white tablecloth and their lunch spread has been set out with great care, delicate china in each place setting.

Nora races ahead with a delighted squeal but Alex stands and stares, leaning against Matt. He watches her closely and she can sense his anxiety but for a long moment, she can do nothing but blink away tears and feel terribly silly. He's always buying her little trinkets, always spoiling her, but none of it ever touches her the way it does when he does something truly heartfelt like this – something that can't be bought and only comes from his desire to make her happy.

"Not quite a picnic," he hedges, glancing away and watching Nora scramble into a chair and begin to inspect the cutlery. "But I thought -"

"This is better," she says firmly, clearing her throat and finally looking at him. He looks pleased to hear her so say, ducking his head for a moment before he remembers he's a grown man and not a little boy with a crush. She laughs softly, careful not to dirty his shirt with her hands as she leans in and kisses him. "You are full of surprises, my love."

He studies her with those wonderfully dark eyes, mouth twitching in amusement. "May I escort you to the table then?"

She shakes her head, pursing her lips against a smile. "You may not." She laughs when he frowns at her, gesturing to her clothes with her dirty hands. "I'm going to wash away some of his dirt and change – and no you may not watch. Keep an eye on our girl." She reaches up on her toes to kiss his cheek and as her lips brush his skin, the shatter of breaking glass sends them both jumping apart, turning to the table across the yard.

Holding the remains of a smashed drinking glass in her bloodied hand, Nora bursts into tears, blue eyes welling up and spilling over as she begins to wail. Heart in her throat, Alex starts forward, wanting nothing but to run to her baby and scoop her up, but Nora shakes her head violently and sobs, "No, Daddy!"

She freezes in place, staring as Matt reaches their child and lifts her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. Nora clings to him, still crying while Matt inspects her hand with a scowl. "I don't see any glass," he murmurs, squinting. "Just a cut. I'll wash it out with water from the well, just in case." He lifts his head, eyes on Alex. "Fetch a bandage, pet?"

She nods woodenly, still gazing at them as Matt begins to walk toward the well, bouncing Nora a little in his arms.

"Hush now," he says softly, one hand stroking her hair. "You're fine, silly girl. Just a little cut, see?"

As she turns slowly and begins the walk around the house and into the manor, she can't help but compare the feeling to being punched in the stomach. She has never had the misfortune before but she imagines it can't be much worse than this. Her baby doesn't want her. Children, when they're hurt or frightened, usually want their mothers, don't they? Nora has taken to calling her Mother but perhaps it's only a title to her. Perhaps she'll never look at Alex as anything other than the woman who scolds her when her clothes are dirty and makes her say please and thank you.

She tries. She bathes Nora every night and tucks her in. She reads to her at bedtime and brings her warm milk. She entertains her during the day while Matt is busy with work. But the moment the man steps out of his study, Nora forgets she exists. Matt is the one she wants and Alex can't help but feel hurt by it. Maybe she was never meant to be a mother for a reason. No matter how hard she tries with the girl, clearly she just doesn't have what it takes. She doesn't have that mythical mother's touch women are always talking about.

Blinking away stubborn tears, Alex fetches the bandages from the linen cupboard and walks back outside, determined to patch up her baby and worry about her pathetic attempts at motherhood later. When she finds Matt, he has Nora perched on the edge of the well, holding her so she doesn't fall.

As she bandages the cut in silence, Nora's cries slow to sniffles and eventually, she sags against Matt's chest, sleeping with her mouth open and tears still drying on her flushed cheeks. Without the potential threat of Nora flinching away from her, Alex allows her hand to linger on the girl's cheek, brushing her thumb just under her fluttering lashes. Whether Nora sees her as a mother or not, she loves the little girl as her own and that will never change.

Biting her lip, she drops her hand and refuses to look at Matt. "Take her to her room, darling. A nap will do her good."

He stands silently in front of her for a moment and she can almost feel him frowning while she stares at his boots. "Wouldn't you rather do it?"

She shakes her head, whirling to gather up the remains of her supplies from the lip of the well. "I think she's made it quite clear whom she'd rather be with and it certainly isn't me." The moment the petulant words leave her mouth she wants to shove them back in again. It's hardly Matt's fault their little girl likes him best. If Alex were Nora, she'd feel the same way.

Feeling ashamed of herself for even letting on that she is even upset at all, Alex strides swiftly across the yard and back into the house before Matt can utter a word of protest. She puts away the supplies in the cupboard and hears Matt enter the house and the soft sound of his footsteps on the

stairs as he carries Nora to her room.

Alex retreats to the kitchens and tells herself she isn't hiding. Since they were supposed to be picnicking, Matt clearly let the kitchen staff have the afternoon off because it's entirely deserted. Alex busies herself with making a cup of tea and sinks into a seat at the small, battered kitchen table just as Matt comes looking for her.

He stands in the doorway, studying her in silence while she stirs her tea and avoids his gaze. Finally, he asks gruffly, "What's the matter with you?"

She sips her tea and nearly burns her tongue. "Nothing."

"Alex."

At the quiet, stern sound of his voice, she is horrified to find her eyes filling up.

She ducks her head but not before Matt sees and he staggers forward in alarm. "Pet, what it is? Tell me and I'll fix it. Please."

His concern only makes her feel worse and she shakes her head, whispering, "I don't think she likes me."

Lord, she feels even more childish saying it out loud. What is wrong with her? She hadn't even given birth to the child and her emotions are still absolutely everywhere at once. But Matt doesn't laugh at her or call her foolish and tell her she's being ridiculous. He looks at her like she's gone mad but he says absolutely nothing, which is all but confirmation in her eyes.

"But she adores you, darling. So tell me…" She sniffles, trying to compose herself. "What am I doing wrong?"

Matt blinks at her, standing in the middle of the kitchen with his arms hanging at his sides and his cravat askew. "Pet, are you ill?" He finally asks, squinting at her. "That child worships you!"

She scoffs, taking another gulp of hot tea that scalds her mouth. "All she does it talk about you! She picks flowers for you and lights up when you walk into a room. You're the one she wants

when she's hurt." She sniffles again. "I'm her mother, why doesn't she want me?"

Matt looks at a total loss for words, clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides, mouth slightly agape and a red flush coloring his cheekbones.

She drops her eyes, hating that she has managed to make him angry on top of everything else. "And I hate myself because I don't want to be jealous of you, darling. I should just be grateful that she has a home with good people now. I should be grateful that she's safe and happy and that she has someone she loves and trusts, even if it isn't me. But I don't feel grateful, Matt. I feel like a failure." She wipes furiously at her cheeks, biting her lip. "I'm a terrible mother and an even more wretched person-"

"Stop it." He shouts, slamming a hand hard enough against the doorframe to make her jump. She can't remember the last time Matt raised his voice to her. He doesn't soften at her startled gaze on him or the tears on her cheeks. If anything, his dark gaze only hardens. He runs a hand through his hair, gaze flitting around the room but refusing to land on her. "Just stop."

She presses her lips together, nodding quickly.

With her eyes focused intently on her teacup, she doesn't see him leave but she hears his boots on the floor and after a moment, she flinches when the front door slams shut. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Alex closes her eyes and wraps her chilly hands around her cup, willing the tremors to stop.

She sits by herself in the kitchen for a long time, letting her tea grow cold, and by the time she makes herself get up to wash and change, it's time to wake Nora from her nap. She walks the corridor slowly, skirts in hand, and tries not to think about the scene in the kitchen or the angry growl of Matt's voice before he stormed off. Instead, she takes a deep breath and slips quietly into Nora's room, settling on the edge of the girl's bed.

Nora is curled up into a ball on top of the blankets, clutching a teddy bear by its ear, her petal pink lips lax in slumber. Alex can't help but reach out and stroke her dark hair, marveling in quiet amusement how sweet the imp looks when she isn't awake. "Nora, my love." She tickles her neck gently, smiling when Nora squirms away with a sleepy frown. "It's time to wake up."

Slowly, Nora opens big blue eyes and yawns, rubbing a small fist over her face. More fully awake

now, she scrambles to sit up and peers carefully at Alex. After a moment, she beams and crawls into her lap. Alex wraps her in her arms, cuddling the warm little body against her chest and dropping her face into the child's sweet-smelling hair. "Did you sleep well?"

Nora nods, yawning again. "'m glad you're clean now, Mummy."

Alex laughs softly. "What?"

"Couldn't hold Nora," she explains, snuggling close and burrowing her face into Alex's curls. "All dirty."

"I – yes, I was." Alex frowns, tightening her arms around the girl. "Is that why you didn't want me to hold you when you were hurt?"

Nora nods, the reminder of what happened before her nap causing her to lift her hand and inspect her bandage in fascination. In an almost perfect imitation of Alex's voice, she says, "'New clothes better stay clean or I'll be cross!'"

Flushing, Alex feels all at once guilty and incredibly silly for the misunderstanding. "I did say that, didn't I?"

Nora nods again, holding out her hand with a little pout. "Kiss it better, Mummy?"

Capturing her daughter's tiny wrist, Alex swallows back a grateful, relieved smile and kisses her hand. "There," she whispers. "All better."

Satisfied, Nora drops her hand and leans into Alex. "I'm hungry, Mummy."

Realizing she had slept right through lunch, Alex stands with Nora in her arms and sweeps from the room, heading for the stairs. "We'll just have to fix that, won't we?" She tickles the back of her neck, relishing Nora's squirmy giggles and cradling her daughter close. "We'll see what Hobbs left for us to eat, hmm?"

Nora wraps an arm around her neck. "Picnic?"

Alex shakes her head, belatedly remembering the lovely spread Matt had prepared before things turned sour. Around the lump in her throat, she promises, "We'll try again tomorrow, sweetheart."

Together, they manage to find something to eat for lunch and the remainder of their day is spent together. They play with Nora's dolls in her room and take turns dressing them in different outfits; they play hide and seek while Alex pretends she can't see a pair of little feet poking out from beneath the drapes; they try to bake cookies without Hobbs' supervision and wind up getting absolutely covered in dough and without anything to show for their efforts but a bath.

By dinnertime, Matt still hasn't returned but thankfully the kitchen staff has, so she and Nora don't have to worry about feeding themselves or starving. They eat dinner without Matt and while Nora asks after him, she seems content enough in Alex's company alone. After asking Hobbs to save a plate for Matt should he return home hungry, Alex and Nora walk hand in hand to the library.

Nora sits on the floor in front of the fire and draws, all of her art supplies spread out on the floor in front of her while Alex tries and fails to have the patience for needlepoint. Eventually, she puts the pointless endeavor aside and stares into the fire with fidgeting hands, her mind far away on her missing husband.

When the hour grows later, Nora tires of drawing and climbs into Alex's lap, curling up with her head on her chest. Alex holds her close and hums softly, combing her fingers through the girl's long hair. Not five minutes after Nora finally falls asleep, Alex hears the library door creak open.

She doesn't turn to look, listening instead to the quiet click of his boots against the floor. He settles almost hesitantly on the settee next to her and though she does not glance in his direction, he radiates contrition. She knows he'll apologize when he's ready but she doesn't need him to. She already knows he's sorry. He'd been sorry before he left.

Keeping her eyes on Nora's face, she says softly, "She didn't want me because I would have gotten her clothes dirty."

Matt says nothing but when she risks a glance at him, she finds him pale and tired. His mouth twitches in amusement and he rasps, "I could have told you that."

"Then why didn't you?" She asks, letting disappointment seep into her tone and watching his shoulders slump in reply. "Instead of walking out?"

He leans forward, elbows on his knees and dark eyes fixed on the floor. "I was angry."

"Yes, I know that, darling. You made it perfectly clear."

He flinches.

"But why?" She sighs when he doesn't answer. "Were you angry with me?"

"No," he says instantly, lifting his head. "Not you, love."

"What then?"

He huffs, looking impatient. "I was angry I had no idea you felt that way and I should have. Because I didn't want you feeling that way. Because I didn't want to hear you talk about yourself like -" He sighs, sounding furious all over again. "Like you weren't good enough. I was angry because you're wonderful and I'm too rubbish with words to come right out and say it."

"Oh, darling." Alex blinks away tears, reaching for his hand. "You really are rubbish."

He snorts quietly, clinging to her hand and squeezing her fingers. "When I'm with her," he says, eyes drifting to Nora sleeping in her arms. "You're all she talks about. It's always mummy says this or mummy did that or isn't mummy pretty?" He smiles softly, lifting his eyes to hers and holding her gaze. "You're incredible with her, pet. She thinks you're some sort of saint."

She trembles under the weight of his stare, swallowing hard. "Really?"

He nods, thumb stroking softly over her knuckles. "You're an amazing mother, just as I knew you would be if given the chance." They both drop their eyes, remembering the little life that never really had time to begin before it was lost. Her eyes stinging, Alex adjusts Nora in her arms and curls into her husband's side, seeking his warmth and comfort. He wraps his arms around her, kissing her hair. "I shouldn't have left."

"No," she agrees. "You shouldn't have."

He hesitates, clearly wallowing in his own guilt. "I didn't want to upset you by saying the wrong thing."

"So you decided to just upset me by shouting and leaving instead?"

She feels him recoil and instantly regrets her sharp tongue, turning her face into his neck. He holds her tighter, lips brushing her temple. "I'm sorry, pet," he whispers earnestly. "It won't happen again. I swear it."

She nods, fingers gripping the front of his coat as she mumbles, "See that it doesn't."

He kisses her temple again and she makes a soft noise of protest, lifting her face to his and closing her eyes when he leans in, kissing her properly. His face is still cold from wandering the moors but she only presses closer, reaching up a hand to stroke his cool skin. He shudders at her touch, nipping at her bottom lip with a faint growl.

Nora stirs in her arms and they break apart breathlessly. Pleased to find Matt looking appropriately flushed now, Alex hides a grin and drops her eyes to their daughter. "Put her to bed?" She asks. "She missed you today."

He nods, looking guilty all over again as he reaches for her. Even in sleep Nora seems to recognize him because as he lifts her from Alex's arms, Nora reaches out a little hand and pats his face with a murmured, "Papa home?"

Matt smirks, face dropping into her hair as he makes the softest cooing noise against the shell of Nora's ear. "Home just in time for bed," he rumbles.

Nora sighs happily, curling against him.

Watching Matt stand and head for the door with a smile, Alex wraps her arms around her middle and relishes not feeling the slightest hint of jealousy. The little imp loves her too and that's all she ever wanted. Even so, her heart leaps when Nora opens her eyes and searches out Alex over Matt's shoulder, reaching out a little hand. "Sing, Mummy?"

Stifling a grin, she stands quickly from the settee and follows after Matt, latching onto his arm and pressing her face into Nora's side, feeling tiny fingers snatch at her curls. "Of course, my love,"

she beams. "Anything you want."

But while you wait, don't eat the food of the dead

Chapter Summary

Father Beaumont has learned that gossip is a way of life and no matter how many sermons he delivers, the stories will never cease – particularly when they have to do with Alexandra Kingston and her unfortunate marriage.

Chapter Notes

Story title from Persephone Lied.

They say she's gone mad, that she's been possessed or seduced. Possibly all three at once. Since moving from his home in France to lead his own church of God's children in this little English village nearly fifty years ago, Father Beaumont has learned that gossip is a way of life and no matter how many sermons he delivers, the stories will never cease – particularly when they have to do with Alexandra Kingston and her unfortunate marriage.

He never wanted to believe any of the stories but when rumors began to circulate of the wild-haired woman who roams the moors on a black steed and carries a dagger up her sleeve, he begins to wonder if all the gossip contained a bit of truth after all.

He worries about her, Alexandra Kingston. Well, Lady Smith now, he amends. She used to be devout in her attendance of morning mass but since her marriage, she had to move miles away and he could never be sure if she carried on attending church elsewhere. He suspected her attendance might suffer, that her faith might wane because of the man she was forced to marry but he hoped she would find her way back eventually.

These new rumors of her husband's negative influence over her only aggravate his concerns. She used to be such a sweet young woman. He watched her grow and blossom. He watched her learn to accept that God had other plans for her besides having a husband and bearing children. He'd always had high hopes she might find a nice convent to join and do God's work there, before the devil came to spirit her away.

As stories of her new dark path continue to grow and spread, Father Beaumont faithfully lights a candle and says a prayer for the Lady Smith daily, hoping she might return home or that her new husband might repent from his ways.

God answers prayers in His own time and often with a surprising twist, but Father Beaumont has learned never to question Him, which is why when he sees her on the street in the middle of town one day, he doesn't hesitate before walking right up to Lady Smith. The hulking, dark-skinned man with her is not her husband but he hovers closely around the much smaller woman, like some sort of warden.

At Father Beaumont's approach, the man steps in front of her but the moment Lady Smith raises her head and spots him, she lights up. "Father Beaumont!" She beams at the sight of him, brushing aside her keeper with a swat of her hand. "How lovely to see you."

"It's been a while," he agrees with a kindly smile. "How are you, my dear?"

If anything, her smile grows. "I'm wonderful. Just in town visiting my parents."

"Good, good," he mutters, patting her hand. "Have you been visiting long?"

"Only since yesterday."

"And you're not ill?"

She shakes her head, still grinning. "No, I'm quite well, thank you. Are you?"

"Perfectly fine." He doesn't release her hand, curling his older, weathered fingers around her small, soft palm. "I only asked because I didn't see you at mass this morning with you parents. Do you attend a church with your husband?"

The Lady Smith purses her lips, looking amused. "I don't believe he's ever been in a church aside from during our wedding, Father."

Ah, just as he suspected.

He tightens his grip on her hand, eyeing her sympathetically.

Her smile turns uneasy as she drops her gaze to his fingers. "Father Beaumont? Are you sure you're quite alright?"

"Are you, my dear?" He asks, leaning in close and studying her face for signs of mental torment or heaven forbid, physical abuse. The woman hides it well – she doesn't even look fatigued. She looks like any rosy-cheeked, happy bride. Oh, the poor thing. "I've heard so many terrible stories."

Slowly, the smile on her face slips away and she gives him a long, hard look. "I don't know what you've heard, Father, but I'm very happy and settled where I am. There's no need for your concern. My husband -"

"Is he keeping you from church?" He gives the shadow of a man over her shoulder a brief look of contempt. "Does he keep you prisoner and only let you out with your warden? Is he making you do sinful things?" He squeezes her hand again, blinking tearfully up at her. "It's alright, my dear. You can tell me."

"What on earth -" Lady Smith tries to pull her hand from his grasp and when he doesn't immediately release her, the man behind her takes a menacing step forward.

Father Beaumont gives a startled gasp, letting go of the Lady.

She casts a grateful glance over her shoulder before turning back to him, idly rubbing her sore fingers. "I can't imagine what you've heard, Father, but rest assured I am not a prisoner. Benson is with me for my protection, not to keep me from running off. And my husband has never once made me do anything I didn't wish – sinful or otherwise." She lifts her chin, frowning at him and looking alarmingly unlike the sweet young girl he remembers kneeling at the altar.

Her husband has made her wicked and she doesn't even realize it.

Father Beaumont releases a shaky sigh, pursing his trembling lips together. "I am very sorry for the path you are on, young lady. But the good Lord always has a plan – even when things seem dark." He lifts his eyes to hers, attempting an encouraging smile. "You remember that and have faith that He will deliver you."

Lady Smith blinks at him, puzzled.

He shakes his head, reaching into his pocket for his rosary. He presses it to his lips, offering up a little prayer of protection, and passes it into her hand. Curling her fingers around the rosary beads, he whispers, "Take it. It will keep you safe."

She stares at him in silence, dropping her eyes from his to the rosary and back again. "Beads won't keep me safe, Father," she murmurs with what sounds like pity. "My husband does that."

He shakes his head in sympathy, turning to go. "I will pray for you, Lady Smith. You and your depraved husband."

It isn't until nearly a month later that Father Beaumont gets the chance to glimpse the infamous Lord Smith in person. He's walking slowly back to town from the home of a sick parish member, discouraged and worried about the man's wife and children should anything happen to him. There is only so much the church can do for widows nowadays.

Hands worrying his rosary beads and mind miles away, he almost doesn't hear the ruckus coming from the Callow family's land. The roaring shout of a wronged man finally penetrates the fog of his thoughts and he lifts his head, peering through the thick foliage of trees surrounding the property. He cranes his neck, listening closely.

"You can't do this to me!"

A calmer, almost chilly voice follows the exclamation: "I can do anything I like, as you well know." A brief pause. "Benson, the horses."

"No!"

Father Beaumont creeps closer, starting slowly down the dirt lane leading to the Callow home, and as he ducks beneath the trees, the whole scene comes into view across the lawn. Lord Smith cuts a striking figure in his dark suit, a tall, thin man with an angular face. He jauntily swings his walking stick, surveying the property with a keen eye.

Another man, broader in the shoulders and dark-skinned, leads a pair of Mr. Callow's prized horses from his barn. Father Beaumont recognizes him instantly as the man who had chaperoned

Lady Smith's visit last month. "Careful with them, Benson," Lord Smith says with a strange noise of amusement. "They won't fetch nearly as much if you scratch the merchandise before market."

Benson grumbles good-naturedly under his breath, attaching the horses to the others leading their carriage with professional care. The man clearly knows how to handle the animals and Father Beaumont can't help feeling the remark was not to scold Benson so much as taunt Mr. Callow.

Mr. Callow appears to have come to the same conclusion because he lets out an almost animalistic cry of rage before launching himself at Lord Smith, his hand raised to strike. Quicker than Father Beaumont has ever seen any human man move in his long life, Lord Smith whirls as if he'd been expecting the attack. He lashes out with his walking stick, striking Mr. Callow in the face and sending the man stumbling back with a cry.

Lord Smith rams the stick into the man's stomach and follows with a quick jab to his calves, sending Mr. Callow to his knees. "How dare you try to strike me, you miserable piece of filth," Lord Smith snaps, eyeing him with barely suppressed rage. "You're lucky I don't take you to market and sell you instead of your precious beasts." He sniffs. "Only, I doubt you'd fetch much, diseased and fat as you are."

Blood pouring out of his nose, Mr. Callow glowers up at him and spits, "Rotten son of a bitch."

Lord Smith raises a thin brow. "I am collecting what you owe, nothing more." He glances toward Benson, nodding, and the man climbs onto the coach's bench, taking up the reins. "Hardly my fault you spent what I loaned you on horse races and whores. Perhaps next time you'll make smarter business decisions."

Still on his knees, blood smeared over his face, Callow looks murderous as he sneers at the other man but he says nothing, stewing in silent rage.

Satisfied to have the last word, the devil of a man tips his hat with a muttered, "Pleasure as always, Mr. Callow" and turns his back, black coat whirling around his knees as he stalks up to the carriage and climbs inside.

Father Beaumont watches in horror as the carriage begins to roll away, taking the fiendish Lord Smith with it. Fingers clutched around his rosary beads, he makes the sign of the cross as the carriage passes him, more determined than ever to help the Lady Smith escape that man's clutches or at least help her save her husband's soul.

Before two days of faithful prayer about the matter passes, Father Beaumont crosses the street and finds himself staring at the profile of the Lady Smith as she peers into a jewelry store window, a young boy at her side. "Look at that one, Mistress," the lad points excitedly at something in the window display. "That would look right pretty on you."

Lady Smith beams, ruffling the boy's dark hair. "You're terribly sweet, Parker, but I think your Master has come home laden with trinkets often enough that I'll never need another pretty bauble as long as I live."

The boy – Parker – casts her a sly look full of mischief. "Not like that'll stop him, Ma'am."

She laughs heartily. "No, but I won't encourage his frivolity."

Parker shrugs. "Just likes to spoil you, Ma'am. Never had nobody to spend his money on before."

"Never had anybody," Lady Smith corrects gently, her smile warm. "And I know, dear. That's why I never complain."

The boy grins at her, leaning a little into her side, and the two stand gazing into the window in silent camaraderie for another moment before Father Beaumont can bring himself to interrupt the strange scene. "Excuse me, Lady Smith -"

Before he can utter another word, the sweet young lad at her side steps right in front of her, acting as a shield of sorts, his eyes hard and his mouth a grim line. "Not so close to the lady," he snaps, glowering.

Father Beaumont blinks at him in surprise.

Lady Smith laughs softly, amused by the display, and presses a gentle hand to the boy's shoulder. "It's fine, Parker. This is Father Beaumont – I've known him for a very long time."

Parker doesn't move right away, watching the Father for a long moment, clearly deciding whether the old man could pose a threat or not. Finally, he gives a curt nod and steps back, allowing the

Lady Smith to greet him properly.

"It's good to see you again, Father," she says, and looks as if she means it, strangely enough. She eyes him with her bright green gaze, idly tugging at a spotless silk glove. "Matt had business in town for a few days – we've been staying at an inn. I was hoping to run into you before we left this afternoon."

He ducks his head, wondering at the kindness he finds there. From the stories that still circulate, he hears that she has turned into a cold sort of woman, just as merciless as her husband. While he can't deny that something has certainly changed in the woman's manner, he sees no malice in her eyes as she watches him. "I'm quite well, my dear. Praying for you faithfully."

Her mouth twists into a faint smile. "That's very kind of you."

He draws in a quiet breath, hesitating, but the good Lord tugs at his heart and he goes where his Savior leads. "I'm also praying for your husband."

Lady Smith lifts an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I saw him," he confesses in a hushed whisper, and Lady Smith leans forward to hear him better with a puzzled frown. "Just the other day, doing the devil's work. Beating a poor man with his walking stick, stealing his horses…." He shakes his head, trembling a little at the memory. "It was the most dreadful display."

Instead of looking alarmed, Lady Smith merely smiles. "I'm sure he was just collecting the payment that man owed him, Father. Matt doesn't go around beating people without just cause." She hesitates, brow furrowing. "Well, at least not recently."

"There is no just cause for using violence against another," he scolds, appalled that she would condone such behavior. "We must love our neighbors as we love ourselves, Lady Smith -"

Parker frowns. "What if we haven't got any neighbors?"

Lady Smith muffles a giggle in a gloved hand, clearing her throat. "It's a metaphor, my dear. Don't interrupt the grownups, now."

"Sorry, Ma'am." He ducks his head sheepishly, scratching his cheek, but grins a bit when Lady Smith pats his dark hair fondly.

Father Beaumont makes an impatient noise, resisting the urge to fiddle with his rosary. "I'm afraid your husband is lost, my dear. Together, we might be able to save him from damnation but -"

"My husband isn't lost, Father," Lady Smith sighs patiently, shaking her head. "He's right where he should be. Now if you'll excuse us -"

He reaches out a hand quickly, wrapping his fingers around her wrist to keep her in place and ignoring her little companion's squawk of protest. "I saw him, Lady Smith. I saw him lash out without mercy and trample upon the downtrodden. He has a vile, wicked heart -"

"That's quite enough, Father," she snaps, and her eyes, usually so bright green with good humor, flash with a dangerous emotion that makes the rest of his warning die in his throat. "Don't speak of my husband as if you know him. His heart is more full of loyalty and kindness than any man of God I have ever met and you'll do well to remember it before speaking of him to me."

He stares at her in stunned silence.

She stares right back at him, colder now, and more like the woman he has heard so much about. "'And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?'" She quotes softly, and her words send a chill up his spine.

He blinks at her, heart in his throat.

"Matthew 7:3," she says, and her mouth twists unpleasantly. "Perhaps you should think on your sins instead of worrying so much about my husband's, Father."

Without another word, she takes the hand of the young boy at her side and the two stride past him and down the street. He turns just in time to see the tall, imposing figure of Lord Smith help his wife into a carriage. She steps in without a backward glance and he follows right after her, disappearing inside. The boy scrambles onto the bench next to the coachman and all at once, they're all trundling off down the lane and away from town.

Father Beaumont clutches at his rosary and prays for guidance.

The manor house of Lord and Lady Smith is just as he imagined it would be – a grey, imposing structure on the moors surrounded by heather and fog. Father Beaumont pays the coachman to wait for him and hops from the carriage, adjusting his Roman collar anxiously.

It has been three weeks since he last saw Lady Smith in town and he knows it will be even longer before she visited again. Matters of the soul can only wait so long and he found that he could not wait another moment before seeking out the two most in need of redemption. So he has made the three-day journey alone, hoping to make some progress.

The grounds around the house, though marshy and damp, seem to be well cared for. There is a garden with all manner of bright flowers and exotic plants but there is a certain feral wildness to the grounds and the house itself that no amount of tedious care will ever be able to remove. Father Beaumont eyes the wild flowers growing alongside the walls and the vines slithering up the sides of the house with unease, idly thinking on bad omens.

Two swift knocks on the heavy front door leads to a small slip of a girl answering his call, peering up at him through a curtain of blonde hair. Must be one of the little orphans Lord Smith kidnaps as workhorses, the poor thing.

"Hello, my dear," he says kindly, smiling at her. "Is your Master at home?"

She nods, frowning at him. "May I ask who's calling, Sir?"

"Father Beaumont."

She shrugs. "I'm Iris."

He beams. "Hello."

"Come on then." She steps aside to let him in and he crosses the threshold trying not to think about the old Greek myth of crossing into the underworld. If he doesn't eat anything, he'll be safe, he muses, but poor Alexandra has feasted too long in this place.

The little Iris leads him through dark corridors with a muttered, "He's in his study."

He follows behind her, the wooden floors creaking beneath his feet. If he listens closely, he can hear the windowpanes whistling from the wind outside and he draws his coat tighter around his frame to ward off a chill, wondering how the warm and vibrant Lady Smith manages to survive and thrive in such a place.

"Here we are," Iris says, and stops outside a heavy mahogany door, knocking softly. At a grumble from inside, she pushes open the door just a little and peeks in. "It's a priest, Master Smith."

"A priest? What the devil does a priest want with me?"

Iris shrugs unhelpfully.

Inside the room, Lord Smith sighs gustily and snaps, "Send him in."

Turning back to him, Iris pushes open the door the rest of the way and ushers him inside. Before Father Beaumont can offer his thanks, she shuts the door behind her with a thud, leaving him alone with the master of the house. He sits behind an ornate desk littered with papers, a glass of the demon liquor at his side. Across the room, a fire roars in the fireplace, filling the space with warmth and a soft, comforting glow.

Without looking up from his paperwork, Lord Smith gestures to the chair in front of his desk. "Have a seat."

Father Beaumont swallows, draws forth his courage, and steps up to the desk, sinking into the chair before Lord Smith. Up close, the man is quite fascinating to look at. He has a very young, angular sort of face but his eyes are old and dark, like he has seen more in his thirty years than most men see in a lifetime.

"Never thought I'd live to see the day a priest came to me for money," he says with a snort of dry amusement, his dark gaze finally flickering up to Father Beaumont. The sudden weight of his piercing eyes sets the priest on edge. "What's the matter? The parish no longer filling the church coffers, Father?"

For a moment, Father Beaumont can only stare at the man and wonder if he's speaking in tongues before it finally dawns on him that Lord Smith thinks he's there on matters of business. "Oh, no, Sir," he says, placing a shocked hand over his heart.

"Hardly my concern," he says thoughtlessly, rifling in a drawer for a piece of paper. "We'll just draw up the contract, shall we? What have you got as collateral?"

Father Beaumont shakes his head hurriedly, words stuck in his dry throat.

Lord Smith stares at him, frowning. "Well I'm hardly going to donate it to you because you're a priest. This isn't a charity."

"I'm not here for money," Father Beaumont finally manages to spit out. "I have no need of your sinful business, Lord Smith!"

Slowly, Lord Smith drops the paper in his hand and leans back in his chair, frowning at him with mild contempt. "Then what do you want, Father?"

He flinches at the sneering words. "I knew your wife when she was Alexandra Kingston. She attended mass at my church."

Oddly enough, the mention of his wife makes something soften in the man's hard gaze but he drops his eyes quickly, clearing his throat. "Yes, and?"

Steeling himself, Father Beaumont lifts his chin and meets the man's dark, knowing gaze. "I ask that you release your hold on her and allow her to come home to her God-fearing parents, where she belongs. She's a good girl -"

"Woman." He frowns, apparently ignoring everything else the Father had said. "She isn't a little girl in your parish anymore. She's a grown woman."

"She's lost, thanks to you!" Father Beaumont leans forward in his seat, clasping his hands in front of him. "You are both so very lost and in need of God's love. If you will not release your wife, at least allow her to attend church. Attend with her, in fact! It will do you both so much good."

Lord Smith blinks at him, his hair falling into his eyes as he tilts his head. "I'm hardly keeping her prisoner here, old man. If Alex wanted to attend mass, all she had to do was so say."

"But she doesn't want to attend!"

"Then why are insisting on pestering me?"

"Because she should want to go! Your influence has corrupted her heart."

"Her heart is perfect," he snaps, startling Father Beaumont into silence. "And as for releasing my wife, neither you nor God himself could prevail upon me to do any such thing. You're wasting your time, old man."

Father Beaumont swallows, preparing a rebuttal.

"Darling?"

They both freeze at the sound of Lady Smith's voice outside the door.

"Are you alright? I heard shouting and Iris said Father Beaumont was here?"

Lord Smith sighs, lifting a long -fingered hand to rub at his temple. "If you're going to insist on shouting through the door, you may as well come in, pet."

She opens the door and slips inside, her eyes instantly skipping right over Father Beaumont and falling to the man behind the desk. Smiling almost as if without conscious thought, Lady Smith shuts the door behind her and says, "I wasn't shouting. I only wanted to be heard."

"Yes, by shouting," Lord Smith murmurs, looking more amused than annoyed by the intrusion. "You have a visitor, my dear."

Father Beaumont watches in silence as he rises from his seat behind the desk and goes to his wife, taking her hand. She lets him, beaming as he leads her to his now vacant seat and helps her into it.

Father Beaumont watches in fascination, entranced by the soft look in Lord Smith's eyes as his hand lingers briefly on his wife's shoulder.

"He's trying to poison you against me, I believe," Lord Smith confides loudly enough for Father Beaumont to hear. "I've corrupted you with my wicked ways."

"Ah, that." Lady Smith smirks, swatting him away. "I was very willing."

"Thank the devil." He winks at her and Father Beaumont stares, getting the distinct feeling he is being mocked.

Lady Smith glances at him, sees his expression, and sighs. "Give us a moment, won't you, my love?"

Lord Smith nods, capturing her hand and squeezing her fingers briefly. "I'll be outside if you need me." He looks at Father Beaumont as he says it, as if the words are less for Lady Smith's reassurance and more for his own sake.

Father Beaumont sniffs at him, insulted.

Keeping her eyes on her husband, a small, alarmingly besotted smile on her face, Lady Smith pays him no attention until the door shuts behind the master of the house. Finally, she turns her gaze on him and Father Beaumont can't help but notice her eyes are a little frosty now. "What are you doing here, Father?"

"I came to beg your husband to release you," he answers honestly.

Impossibly, her gaze hardens further. "He would never. And even if he did try something so incredibly stupid, I would never allow it."

For one brief moment, Father Beaumont loses all self-possession and bursts out the one question he has been dying to ask for weeks, "Why?"

She blinks at him like she can't begin to understand why he would even need to ask. "Because I love him, Father. I could never leave him."

He shakes his head. "You're confused, my dear."

"I'm really not." She smiles. "I know you can't see it and I know all of this is difficult for you to understand but Matt makes me happy. I know he's a little rough around the edges and he isn't above using violence to get what he wants but never with me. He treats me like I am the most precious of all God's creatures, Father. And that means more to me than Sunday mass or dusty Latin hymns." She shrugs at his despairing look. "I'm happy here with him. He isn't keeping me prisoner. I'm here because I want to be – because I can't imagine being anywhere else."

"But -"

"I won't be coming back to church, Father," she says gently, her eyes kind now. "Yours or any other. Not because Matt won't allow it but because I have no desire to go. I never did. I only went because my parents wished it. But I know I don't need to be saved, not by God. And neither does Matt."

Reaching across the desk, she pats his hand with her own smaller, warm one. He lifts his eyes to hers, discouraged.

She smiles. "But you will always be welcome here, Father, so long as you stop trying to convert my husband or make him feel like some sort of heathen."

He nods mutely, at a loss.

"I'll leave you here for a moment." She eyes him with quiet understanding. "Iris will show you the door when you're ready." He watches in silence as she releases his hand and stands from behind the desk, rounding it with a soft rustle of skirts. "It was lovely to see you again, Father."

He nods again, watching her go until the door clicks softly shut behind her.

In the ensuing silence, he sits and stares at the papers littering the desk, a sinking feeling of failure in his heart. He knows there are some lost sheep that never return to the fold but the loss of Alexandra is weighing on him more heavily than others. She seems so happy in this new life and as hard as he tries, he cannot make it fit together in his head. There are some things, he supposes, that only the Almighty will ever understand.

With a regretful sigh, he stands to leave. As he rises, he catches a glimpse out the window behind the desk, into the garden outside. Lord Smith stands among the flowers, staring rather resolutely at a clustering of lavender, a scowl firmly in place.

Curious, Father Beaumont drifts to the window and peers past the heavy drapes. He watches with interest as Lady Smith rounds the corner of the house and smiles at the sight of her husband. With playful stealth, she walks silently across the yard and wraps her arms around him from behind.

Lord Smith does not jump at her touch or turn to see who holds him in an embrace. Instead, Father Beaumont watches in fascination as the scowl instantly melts away, leaving a small smile in its place. He looks content and more at peace than any man so far from God should. Father Beaumont struggles to understand it, watching as the tall, lanky man turns in the arms of his wife to look at her properly.

She smiles, wrinkling her nose slightly at whatever he says.

Lord Smith only softens further, taking her face in his hands with a reverence Father Beaumont has only ever seen when his own hands touch the Holy Book. Leaning in, Lord Smith kisses his wife with great care and more tenderness than the Father ever would have guessed he possessed. Alexandra leans up on her tiptoes to reach him, smiling into his mouth.

When they part, neither pulls away from the other. Instead, they press their foreheads together, eyes locked as they sway quietly in the middle of the garden. Father Beaumont stares unabashedly. The strange, unlikely couple radiates a quiet sort of happiness, as if something lost has been found in the other. He can't help but recall one memorable confession of Alexandra's years ago, when she came to him with contrition, admitting the envy in her heart for the girls around her who married and had hopes of a family. Young Alexandra had asked for forgiveness for wanting someone who would love her too. Father Beaumont had never considered Lord Smith as an answer to a prayer before now.

He watches the couple in the garden, the bright radiance of Alexandra Kingston all wrapped up in the dark shroud of her husband, and realizes that maybe they don't need to be saved after all. Perhaps they already have been.

she doesn't know what winter is

Chapter Summary

By the seashore amidst a crowd of gentleman in pastel coats and white trousers, Matt sticks out like a sore thumb in his dark suit but he refuses to adhere to Brighton fashion.

Chapter Notes

Story title from Persephone the Wanderer by Louise Gluck.

By the seashore amidst a crowd of gentleman in pastel coats and white trousers, Matt sticks out like a sore thumb in his dark suit but he refuses to adhere to Brighton fashion. It was enough of a battle to get him here though, so Alex doesn't push him. She honestly can't imagine her husband in anything other than shades of black and gray anyway.

Standing on the shoreline, Matt's suit jacket folded over one arm, Alex shifts her hold on the delicate handle of her parasol and watches Nora try with all her might to tug her father out into the water. Shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows and displaying muscular forearms, Matt bends and scoops the little imp up into his arms, throwing her over his shoulder.

Alex watches them walk toward her with a smile, listening to Nora's giggles and loud demands to be released. They've been on holiday for a week, soaking in the sun, the culture, and the sea air at her insistence that Nora needed to know a life outside the moors. She'd been expecting Matt to put up more resistance once they arrived but to her surprise, the change of scenery seems to agree with him.

Strolling up to her side, Matt settles Nora on her feet again and she immediately runs off with a squeal, back to the shore and the waves that lap at her feet. He sighs, shaking his head. "She's your daughter. Do something."

"Oh, so she's mine when she's misbehaving? I believe she gets that from you, my love." She pushes his coat back into his hands and watches Nora stoop to gather rocks in the sand, the hem of her dress absolutely filthy. "She loves it here though, doesn't she?"

Jacket slung over his shoulder, Matt grunts.

She rolls her eyes, nudging him. "I'm hardly planning to move the entire family here, darling. No need to look concerned."

"I'm not concerned about that." He turns his head, eyeing her for a moment. "It's your hair in that bonnet. Ghastly."

Resisting the urge to close up her parasol and whack him with it, Alex glares. "It's a necessity, darling. Everyone wears them here."

He scowls. "I don't like it."

"I know, dear." She pats his arm, glancing at Nora to make sure she hasn't wandered too far. Curling her hand around his forearm, she offers him a sly smile. "Thank you for taking us. I know you aren't fond of the crowds."

"You rarely ask me for anything, pet." He keeps his eye on Nora collecting pebbles. "How could I refuse you?"

She smiles, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Easily. But you didn't." He turns his head slowly to look at her, dark gaze on hers. Her grin widens. "You're a good man who likes to make his wife and little girl happy. There's no use hiding it. I'm on to you."

Without a word, Matt ducks his head under her parasol and kisses her roughly, hands shoving her bonnet out of his way with a grunt of annoyance. She stifles a cry of surprise, melting into him. It had been absolutely shocking at first how much freer with his affections Matt is in public here, where no one knows him and no one is watching to make sure he remains the stone statue they all know and fear. Here, he is only Matt. Still brooding and downright surly, but more inclined to lift Nora into his arms in the middle of the street or drag Alex in for a kiss without warning, his hands wandering just enough to elicit disapproving gasps from those around them.

He pulls away with a distinctly satisfied smirk, nose brushing hers. "That's just between us."

She swallows, licking her lips. "Your secret is safe with me, darling."

"Mummy, look!" Nora tugs on her skirt and they both turn from each other to look down at their daughter. She holds up a white rock with a beaming grin. "It looks like a heart."

"It looks exactly like a heart," she says, squinting at it. "What a beautiful find, my love. We'll keep that one, alright?"

"It's for Benson," she says, tucking it away into the pocket of her dress for safekeeping. "I promised him a surprise."

"I'm sure he'll love it very much." Alex tugs Nora's bonnet onto her head and ties it under her chin, ignoring the girl's squirming attempts to get away. "Now come along so we can have lunch before Daddy gets terribly grumpy."

Nora giggles, latching onto Matt's hand as they begin to walk away from the shore. "He's funny when he's grumpy."

"That's because you haven't seen him truly grumpy," Alex teases, glancing at her husband as they climb the stairs up the embankment. "He turns into a great big growling bear."

Nora's eyes widen and she nearly stumbles as Matt helps her navigate the stairs, allowing him to lift her into his arms and walk more quickly. "Really?"

Alex nods solemnly. "Oh yes, it's quite a serious condition."

As they mount the stairs and stumble onto the path into town, Nora pats his cheek, ducking her head and looking directly into his eyes, peering with an intense scrutiny. "Is the bear in there now, Papa?"

"There is no bear, poppet," Matt assures her, turning to glare at Alex.

She laughs brightly, latching onto his arm. "The bear only comes out when Daddy gets really angry."

"Oh." Nora pokes at his cheek. "Like when people forget to pay you."

He sighs at Nora's cautious study of him, tightening his grip on her. "Something like that."

Apparently satisfied with that answer, Nora tucks her head under Matt's chin and clings to his neck. "You won't growl at me," she says, sounding very sure of herself. "You love me."

Heart melting a little, Alex watches her husband slide a gentle hand up Nora's back and into her long hair. "Clever girl," he murmurs.

They find a tearoom in town that looks low key enough not to mind Nora's sea salted hair spilling over her shoulders or the sand covering the hem of her dress, though Alex still can't help cringing whenever she lets herself study the wild thing she calls her daughter. Nora's grandmother would be horrified.

They settle at a table far away from the crowds. Alex unties her bonnet and lays it on her lap, winking when Matt offers her a pleased look. "Happy?"

"I'll be happy when I can take you home and burn the bloody thing."

"Brute."

"Nymph."

She feels her cheeks heat with a blush as he watches her from beneath his fringe. "I can't wait to get you home," she says, sniffing. "The sea air is making you shameless."

"Is that the only reason you can't wait?"

Alex nearly gapes at him. Honestly, the man will be the death of her.

Matt smirks, clearly enjoying his ability to rattle her.

"What's shameless?"

Startled, they both turn to find Nora watching their exchange with interest. Matt goes back to studying the table, pointedly not answering, and Alex clears her throat. "It means your daddy hasn't the common decency not to flirt in public," she murmurs under her breath.

Matt snorts softly.

She glares, turning to Nora. "Take off your bonnet indoors, my love. It's impolite."

Nora tugs at her bonnet with little hands, frowning. "Don't like it anyway," she says, for the hundredth time since the first day she was forced to wear the thing. "It's itchy."

Matt nods in agreement and Alex sighs, taking the bonnet from Nora and tucking it under the table with her own. "I know, but you need it to protect your skin from the sun. I can't have a little heathen with a tan wandering about, can I?" She rises from her seat, brushing a hand over Matt's shoulder. "Behave for your father, alright? I'll be right back."

Nora wrinkles her nose. "But why is it so bright, Papa? Doesn't the sun take naps here?"

Swallowing a smile as she walks away, Alex shakes her head. Nora's utter confusion over the continuous sunny weather here has been a source of entertainment since they arrived. She can't help but agree with her daughter. The sea air is nice and the sun is always welcome but she misses their little corner of the world the longer they're away. She misses the fog and the rain and the clouds always looming. It's home.

In the powder room, she powders her nose and tucks away the curls that had escaped their pins while in the confines of her bonnet. By the time she returns to the table, their tea and scones have arrived but Matt and Nora have yet to touch anything, preoccupied with their new company – a young woman with fluttering lashes and a simpering smile, one who likely stopped because she "simply had to say hello to the sweet little girl." Oddly enough, it only happens when Matt is left alone with Nora. Alex starts for their table with a sigh, wondering why she continues to leave him alone in public. Girls in this town can practically smell wealth.

Things are different here, where no one knows them. No one has heard of Matt and all young women tend to see is a tall, handsome man with an adorable little girl at his side. Matt had been right before – there is another reason she can't wait to go home. There, women are far too aware of Lord Smith's reputation to bat their eyes like desperate simpletons.

"How are you enjoying Brighton?"

Matt blinks at the girl, looking somewhat lost and more than a little uninterested, bless him. He looks relieved when he sees Alex approaching and the girl looks over her shoulder to see what he's staring at.

Smiling with entirely too much teeth, Alex slides into her seat next to her husband and asks, "Did our little one make a new friend, darling?"

The girl's smile falters. "Actually, I was just -"

Nora shakes her head quickly. "She's not my friend, Mummy. She wants to be Daddy's friend."

The girl flushes right up to her ears.

Usually, Alex scares them away herself – glaring or making some sort of snippy remark that can't quite be considered rude or sometimes even accidentally trodding on a silk slipper and apologizing with a smirk. God help her, she's become just as territorial as her possessive husband. He's a dreadful influence. So it's rather nice to have Nora's help just this once.

Nora blinks at her innocently, big blue eyes wide. "Is she being shameless, Mummy?"

Matt drops his head and Alex hides a smile in her napkin. "Nora, my love. Manners."

"I was just saying hello," the girl squeaks, positively red-faced now. "Pardon me, I must be going. Lovely to meet you."

Alex watches with a smirk as the girl hurries away, heading for the group of elegant-looking girls sitting at a table and watching the whole exchange. Matt huffs as she goes, lifting his head to eye her suspiciously. "You planned that, didn't you?"

"I did no such thing." Alex puts a scone slathered in extra cream on a plate and hands it to Nora, winking. "She's very clever, your daughter. Hardly needs any help from me."

"Pet, I wasn't -"

She scoffs. "Of course you weren't, silly man. But just because you aren't interested in some flighty girl doesn't mean I'll stand idly by and smile while she bats her eyes at you."

He takes her hand beneath the table, lacing their fingers together, and she feels the remaining tension in her body flee at the familiar comfort of his warm touch. "I thought we might take Nora into London before we return home."

She lifts a brow in surprise. "London? Darling, Brighton is positively uninhabited compared to London. You hate crowds." Abandoning her tea, she leans close to peer at him. "Who are you, and what have you done with my charmingly anti-social husband? Has the bear taken over?"

Nora lifts her head, looking eager. "Bear?"

Matt huffs, faintly embarrassed as he ducks his head. "She should see London. I think I can manage a day if you can."

She frowns. "Why couldn't I?"

"Well, I'm not the one snarling at any female who happens to speak to me." He raises a brow. "In fact, my dear, I'm beginning to think you are the bear at this table."

Nora gasps, clapping her hands. "Can I be a bear too, Papa?"

"When you're older." He glances at her with a grimace. "Right now, you're a cub."

She pouts. "I want to be a big bear."

"Then perhaps you should eat your lunch and gain your strength, hmm?" Nora returns her attention back to her plate with a disgruntled frown. He turns back to Alex, smirking. "You should eat too. I like my darling bear well fed so she won't eat young ladies as appetizers."

Alex glowers at him, wishing she didn't blush quite so easily around the cad. "You," she mutters. "Are a horrid man."

"And you are delightfully jealous. I had no idea." His dark eyes twinkle beneath his fringe. "I quite like it."

"You would," she mumbles resentfully, turning back to her scone.

He picks up his tea, still watching her with that predatory gleam.

Alex ignores him pointedly, glancing around the crowded tearoom.

She catches the eye of a passing gentleman who smiles as he walks by, tipping his hat to her. Good mood evaporating in an instant, Matt straightens in his seat and watches the man walk away like with any luck at all, the force of his glare will set him alight and erase him from the face of the planet.

"I suppose you miss home too," Alex points out gleefully. "All the men are too afraid to look at your wife."

Matt scowls into his tea. "London is overrated," he says, clearly sulking. "We should just return home."

She grins to herself, squeezing his hand under the table and using the other to slather her scone in cream. Perhaps they're both wild creatures jealousy guarding the other in the midst of civilization. She quite likes it too, though she'll never say. The last thing her grumpy bear needs is more incentive.

the detour that brings us home

Chapter Summary

Sometimes, she doesn't feel nearly old enough to answer to the name grandmother but she shifts her attention from the baby in her arms to the five-year-old boy sitting beside her on the picnic blanket.

Chapter Notes

Story title from Persephone's Letter to Demeter

Lucy looks exactly how Alex imagines Nora must have looked when she was a baby. Her eyes are big and blue, her cheeks full and rosy, and there's a rather shocking amount of dark hair on top of her head for one so young. Alex cradles the child to her bosom and smiles down at her as the girl blinks up at her. While she sometimes wishes she'd been able to hold Nora when she was a squirming babe instead of a fierce little toddler, the baby in her arms is a close second.

"Grandmother, how am I doing?"

Sometimes, she doesn't feel nearly old enough to answer to such a name but she shifts her attention from the baby in her arms to the five-year-old boy sitting beside her on the picnic blanket. The day is relatively warm and the rain has held off so she'd brought the children out for some fresh air. She remembers only too well how cranky Nora used to get without a little room to run around.

Nicholas had only left her side long enough to gather a bouquet of wildflowers from the heath before he planted himself down right next to her. He's been working in silence ever since, dark hair slipping into his eyes and tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. He holds up the fruit of his labors, half-finished, and looks at her hopefully with big brown eyes. In that moment, he looks so much like his father that Alex can't help smiling widely as she plucks the creation from his hand.

"Let's see," she says, pretending to inspect it carefully. The wildflowers have been twined carefully together, just as she'd instructed, and she marvels at the boy's ability to follow directions so well. Another trait from his father, no doubt. Nora had to be told something a hundred times before it penetrated that stubborn head. "It's going to be the prettiest crown of flowers I've ever seen."

Nicholas beams shyly at her – another Parker trait – and snatches it back. "You think Mother will like it?"

"I think she'll wear it everywhere." She winks, turning back to the squirming bundle in her arms. "What do you think? Should we make one for Lucy too?"

Nicholas peers at his baby sister, looking thoughtful. "Wouldn't she just try to eat it? She tries to eat everything."

Snorting quietly, Alex says, "So did you, in case you've forgotten. Your grandfather still talks about his pocket watch you drowned beyond hope in a mouthful of drool."

Nicholas flushes, ducking his head and pretending to focus on his task extra hard. "It was an accident," he mumbles. "I was only little."

She laughs. "Yes, you were. And we've forgiven you, just as you'll have to forgive Lucy." She lifts the baby to look directly into her wide blue eyes. "What do you say, little imp? Would you like a pretty crown too, hmm?"

Lucy coos, blinking at her.

Nicholas grins crookedly. "I think that's a yes, Grandmother."

"Me too." She smiles. "Go fetch some more flowers and we'll make her one."

As he scrambles from the blanket and races across the yard to gather more supplies, Alex watches him with a fond smile and only notices the extra company when her husband takes her hand. She jumps, startling Lucy into fussing, and presses a hand to her heart. "Darling, I am not as young as I used to be. You must stop doing that."

"Nonsense, you're positively spry." Somehow, even now, with graying hair and lines around his eyes, he still manages to look boyishly amused. "I wasn't trying to scare you, pet. I thought you saw me."

"Well, I didn't." She frowns, more because it's expected of her than anything else. "You're like a bloody phantom."

"Cursing in front of the grandchildren?" He tsks softly, leaning in to kiss her temple. "Manners, pet."

She allows him to take Lucy from her, easing the baby into his arms and forgetting entirely to think up some sort of witty reply about his manners in front of the children because the sight of him cradling a baby in his arms still renders her a useless puddle of a woman. He drops his eyes, gazing at his granddaughter like a lovesick fool, and her heart leaps into her throat. She forgets about their bickering and nestles in close to his side, her head on his shoulder as she joins him in looking at Lucy's content little face.

"She looks like Nora," he says softly, tapping the baby's little button nose.

Alex nods, smiling. "Quieter though."

He huffs out a quiet laugh. "Give her time."

"Is this enough, Grandmother?" Nicholas comes bounding up to them with a handful of purple wildflowers, flushed and out of breath from running as he sinks to his knees next to her.

"That's perfect, sweetheart. Thank you." She holds out a hand and drops the flowers into her palm. "I'll make Lucy's, shall I? That way you can finish your mummy's."

Nicholas nods eagerly, scrambling to pick up the half-finished crown lying on the blanket beside him. "Mother and Lucy will match."

"They'll look darling," she agrees, leaning over Matt to tickle Lucy's belly with gentle fingers.

Nicholas works in silence for a few minutes, leaving Alex and Matt to bask in the quiet, peaceful afternoon. The children visit most days but more often than not, they're all cooped up in the house and watching rain patter against the windowpanes. Spring on the moors is a nasty business. With summer coming, Alex finds herself looking forward to longer visits from her daughter and grandchildren. She likes standing outside in the twilight with Matt at her side, watching the little family walk home in the evening gloom.

Home isn't far, thankfully. Nora and Parker had built a house only a few minutes away, still on Matt's property. With Parker working for Matt, it hadn't made sense for them to go anywhere else. These days, while Matt still fields visits from clients, Parker is the one to do the collecting when the time comes. He and Nora are in town now, gathering payment from debtors.

They'll be home soon, hopefully. Alex leans into Matt's side and closes her eyes, looking forward to all of them dining here this evening. She's always happiest when all of her family is under one roof together.

"Grandmother, will you tell the story about when you first met Grandfather again?"

Opening her eyes with an amused smile at the pleading hope in Nicholas' voice, Alex shakes her head and beside her, Matt sighs. She could throttle Nora for telling the boy bedtime stories about his grandparents. "Why on earth are you so fond of that story, Nic?"

The little boy shrugs, eyes still on his project. "I don't know, I just am. Please, Grandmother?"

Beside her, Matt watches her with a smirk, looking entirely too amused at her expense. She narrows her eyes at him, lifting a brow. "Why don't you have your grandfather tell it? You've never heard it from him before."

Nicholas gasps, lifting his head to look at Matt eagerly. "Oh yes, please! Please, Grandfather?"

Matt glowers at her and she smiles serenely, dropping her hand to clasp one of Lucy's kicking feet. "You don't want to hear that story, lad."

"Yes, I do!" Nicholas pouts – definitely a Nora trait, that one. "Tell me about meeting Grandmother. What did she look like?"

"Exactly as she does now." Matt eyes her fondly and she blushes, swatting at him.

"Don't lie to the boy," she murmurs.

"Not a lie, pet." He turns back to Nicholas. "She had the prettiest hair I'd ever seen."

Nicholas beams. "Like a curly lion," he supplies.

Stifling a smile, Matt nods. "That's exactly it, lad."

"What else, Grandfather?"

"She was wearing a filthy dress because she'd been out wandering in the mud."

Nicholas gapes at him, looking suspicious. "But Grandmother never lets us get our clothes dirty!"

"Yes, turned into quite the little hypocrite, hasn't she?" Matt smirks and Alex elbows him, unable to hide a grin anyway.

"You still thought she was pretty, didn't you, Grandfather?"

"Oh, of course." Matt turns serious once more, eyeing the little miniature Parker in front of them with quiet humor. "More beautiful than any of the other maidens with clean dresses and neat hair." Alex rolls her eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of meeting his gaze. "I loved her instantly, of course."

She bites her lip against a grin, keeping her eyes on Lucy. Even now, she never tires of knowing for him, it had been as close to love at first sight as a man like Matt could manage.

Nicholas stares breathlessly, hanging on his every word as if he's never heard the story before. "Did you say hello?"

Matt frowns thoughtfully. "No, I didn't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know." Matt slides his fingers over hers on top of Lucy's belly, a warm, comforting touch. "Cowardice, I suppose."

"You're not a coward, Grandfather," Nicholas insists vehemently, with that blind faith that comes with being so young and idolizing those he loves. "You're brave."

Alex lifts her head, watching Matt's mouth twitch. "About some things, maybe," he admits, and she can tell by the devilish twinkle in his eye that he's about to say something mischievous. "But your grandmother can be quite terrifying."

Nicholas nods solemnly. "Like when she catches me accidentally stepping on her flowers."

This time, Matt really does break into a grin. "Exactly like that, lad."

Huffing, Alex leans away from Matt and begins to quickly but carefully twine the flowers in her lap into a crown for Lucy. "Honestly, the pair of you. I'm hardly a wicked villain in a fairy tale."

"Villain, no." Matt shifts Lucy in his arms, glancing slyly at her. "But wicked you most certainly are, pet."

"Cad," she murmurs, smiling.

Matt presses his knee against hers and wisely says nothing, long fingers combing through Lucy's soft, downy hair.

Making a quiet noise of triumph, Nicholas holds his creation aloft and looks to Alex. "I think it's finished, Grandmother. How does it look?"

Lifting her head from her own struggle with wildflowers, Alex beams at the sight of Nicholas' finished product. "Let's test it out, shall we?" She takes it carefully from him, turns, and swiftly deposits it on top of Matt's head. Her husband sighs at the treatment, eyeing her dubiously, but makes no move to take it off, letting her have her fun.

The sight of vibrant purple flowers among the salt and pepper of Matt's thick hair immediately sends Nicholas into a fit of giggles and he claps a little hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking.

"You look lovely, Grandfather."

Matt scowls at him, which doesn't faze Nicholas in the slightest.

Hiding a smile, Alex cups his cheek in her hand. "He's right you know. Purple suits you."

He leans into her touch, eyes softening as he rumbles, "You suit me."

She allows her lips to curl broadly at that, leaning in.

No longer giggling, Nicholas hedges, "Should I close my eyes now, Grandmother?"

Her smile widens and she breaks into soft laughter. "Yes, dear."

As Nicholas covers his eyes with a hand, Matt closes the distance between them and kisses her with a low growl, Lucy snug and quiet between them. He tastes like brandy, warm and familiar. Alex grins, raking a hand through his hair and pulling the crown of wildflowers from his head.

"You still suit me too," she whispers, watching with a feeling of pride as his eyes darken.

"Are you done yet?"

Matt sighs, leaning away from her.

Alex grins. "It's safe, Nic. Open your eyes."

As soon as he does, his whole face lights up and before Alex can turn to see what he's looking at, he shouts, "Mother and Father are back!"

She turns, glancing over her shoulder, and spies Nora and Parker strolling across the lawn hand in hand. She waves at them, smiling widely, and Nora calls out, "What's for dinner, Mum? I'm starving!"

Matt snorts beside her. "Sometimes, it feels like she never actually left."

Smiling, she watches Nicholas run up to his mother, presenting the crown he'd made to her as Parker stoops to lift him into his arms. Nora expresses her delight over the gift, placing it on her head with a beaming grin and leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss her son's cheek in thanks. Dropping her eyes to Lucy still nestled comfortably in Matt's arms, Alex sighs with content. "That's how I like it."

"So do I, pet." Matt laces their fingers together, kissing her temple. "So do I."

persephone, take her head upon your knee

Chapter Summary

Alex wakes to the sound of her grandson crying.

Chapter Notes

Story title from Prayer to Persephone by Edna St. Vincent Millay.

Alex wakes to the sound of her grandson crying.

For a moment, in her state somewhere between waking and sleeping, she's afraid she's having the dream again – the one about her lost baby boy. Slowly, as her eyes flutter open to the dark of her bedchamber and her gaze focuses on the fire burning low in the grate, she realizes two things.

One, she hasn't had that dream in years. Two, Nora must be up and pacing with her fussy newborn.

She smiles sleepily, curling into the warmth of her husband.

He tightens his grip around her waist, nuzzling his face into her neck and grumbling, "Should I be grieved we missed this part of parenthood? Because I'm not."

Alex rakes her fingers through his hair. "Don't be horrid."

"Tired."

"Sleep then."

"Can't with the lad screaming bloody murder. What the devil is she doing to him?"

"She isn't doing anything. Sometimes babies just cry, darling."

He shudders, holding her closer. "Make it stop, pet."

Alex drops a kiss into his hair. "You'll have to let me go first."

He stubbornly refuses, pressing his mouth to the crook of her neck.

"Darling…"

Sighing, he releases her and she slips from bed before he can change his mind and draw her back in. Reaching for her dressing gown and slipping into it, she watches Matt shut his eyes with a scowl, reaching for her pillow and burying his face in it. Tying the sash on her gown, she turns to pad from the room but his voice stops her. "Don't be long."

"Why?"

He opens one eye and somehow still manages to glare. "Because my sleep is rubbish without you if you must know."

She grins. "I do know. Just like to hear you say it."

"Wench."

"Rest, my love. I'll be back soon."

She takes a candle with her, wandering through the dark house and following the sound of Nicholas' wails to their source, down the stairs and along a corridor in the left wing of the house where Nora and Parker have been staying since the birth of their son. It only made sense for Nora to have the child here, where Alex could help her recuperate and look after her grandson. With winter fast approaching, even the short journey across the moors to Nora and Parker's home would be an effort in the cold wind and snow. They'll pass away the winter months here and in the spring, they'll return to their own home.

Alex smiles as she nears the parlour in this wing of the house, thrilled to have her family under one roof for months. Nora visits daily and Parker is always about since becoming a partner in Matt's business, but having them here constantly almost feels like when Nora was a little girl again. With one tiny, squalling difference.

Peering around the doorframe, Alex watches her daughter pace the length of the parlour, bouncing her infant son in her arms. She looks exhausted, dressing gown hanging from her thin shoulders, long hair limp and trailing down her back in a loose braid. Dark circles line her eyes and her mouth is drawn into a perpetual pout. She hums to her baby but Alex can barely hear it over his wailing cries and eventually, Nora gives up with a huff.

"Come on," she pleads. "Just be quiet for a little while. An hour! I would be ecstatic to have an hour of bloody quiet."

Alex smiles softly, finally pushing away from the doorframe and entering the room. "Need any help?"

Nora whirls at the sound of her voice, her whole face softening in relief. "Mum! Thank God."

Taking it as a yes, Alex steps forward with her arms outstretched. Nora hands her crying son over with an eagerness that makes Alex bite her lip against a grin. "Rough night?"

"He was so adorable that first day." Nora collapses onto a settee, draping an arm over her face and shutting her eyes. "And now I'm quite convinced it was all an act. He's actually the spawn of some horrible demon sent to drive me mad."

"Well," Alex ventures, smirking. "He is yours. Isn't that the same thing?"

Nora lifts her arm from her face and glares. "I thought you were here to help. If I wanted pithy remarks I could go and get Father."

"Patience, my love." Alex shifts Nicholas in her arms to cradle him close, beaming down at his little face, blood red with the effort of crying for hours at a time. "Hello there, my little lad. What's all this then? Fussing all night and keeping your poor Mummy awake – it's disgraceful."

Nicholas stops crying to peer up at her, whimpering.

Gaping, Nora sits up to stare.

"There now," Alex coos, stroking a finger over his cheek. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"How on earth did you -" Nora scrubs a tired hand over her face and Alex watches her eyes fill up with frustrated tears. "He hates me. My own son hates me!"

Alex laughs incredulously, shaking her head as she sways in place with Nicholas. "Darling girl, he does not hate you."

Nora gestures helplessly to her son. "I hold him and he screams. You hold him and he's quiet as a bloody church mouse! What do you call that if not total hatred for the woman who spent sixteen hours pushing him out of her -"

"No need to be crude, my love." Alex lifts a scolding eyebrow and Nora crosses her arms over her chest, looking more like a defiant teenage girl than a grown woman with a child of her own. "Nicholas is a baby. He has no sense of hatred. It's a learned emotion and he hasn't been around his grandfather nearly enough yet to pick up on it."

Nora snorts, tucking her legs beneath her and resting her head on the arm of the settee. "How did you do it, Mum? How did you make him fall in love with you?"

"Your Father?" Alex frowns. "Well, I threw things at him. Heavy books, mostly."

Nora huffs. "Not Papa. Nicholas."

"Oh." Glancing down at her very first grandchild nestled against her chest, his little lashes beginning to flutter closed in sleep, Alex shakes her head and sighs. "He doesn't know enough to love yet, my dear. He's a helpless infant in a big, cold, scary new place where nothing makes sense and he doesn't understand the language. He only knows who he feels safe and warm with and who he doesn't."

Lower lip trembling, Nora ducks her head. "He doesn't feel safe with me?"

"Oh, lovely, that isn't what I meant at all." Alex crosses the room and settles next to her daughter, shifting Nicholas to one side and pulling her daughter in to the other. Nora curls up against her, her head on her shoulder as she sniffles. "You're too tense, that's all. He makes you nervous."

"Of course he does!" Nora wipes at her cheeks. "He's so tiny and helpless and Mother, I haven't the slightest idea how to look after him!"

"That's what I'm here for, silly girl," Alex explains patiently, turning her head and pressing her lips to her daughter's temple. "But you mustn't be so tense around him. Nicholas senses it and it upsets him."

"He loves Parker." Nora sniffles. "He loves you and Papa. You've all bonded with him and I feel like such a failure, Mother."

Alex sighs, smiling despite herself. "This sounds very familiar, you know."

"How do you mean?" Nora toys with the sash on Alex's dressing gown, nestling in like a small child. Alex holds her close, cradling Nicholas, and gives herself a brief moment to savor having both of her babies in her arms at once.

"Well, when you first came to us," she begins softly. "I was quite convinced that I must have been missing some sort of genetic code that made a woman a mother. I'd always wanted to be a mother, and then you came along – this darling little angel bundled up in Matt's coat. I didn't pray anymore by that point but if I had, you would have been an answer to it."

Nora smiles into her shoulder, lifting a slender hand to play with Alex's curls.

"But it didn't take me long to realize you'd rather spend all of your time with Matt instead of me. He was your favorite." When Nora begins to shake her head, Alex shushes her quietly. "What I didn't realize is that emotionally inept and gruff exterior aside, your father spent his whole life around children. They didn't make him nervous. And I was so eager that I suppose you could sense it. But I loved you fiercely and that was enough for you. You gave me hugs and called me Mummy and my god, it was more than I'd ever hoped for." She kisses Nora's brow, eyes watering. "And one day, it wasn't only Matt you lit up for. It wasn't only him you wanted at bedtime or when you were hurt. I didn't force it – it just happened."

"That's what I need to do with Nicholas?"

Alex nods. "Relax, lovely. Relax and be patient. You're his mother and he will feel safer with you than with anyone else. You'll be his safe haven and his healer, his vanquisher of nightmares and keeper of bedtime stories. You'll be his whole world." She smiles softly. "Until he grows up and has babies of his own."

Nora tightens her grip on Alex, nuzzling her face into her curls. "You're still all of those things, Mum. You've always been all of those things." She links their fingers together over Nicholas' tummy and together, they feel the soft rise and fall of his little body as he breathes in sleep. "I don't remember much about when I first arrived. I was so young. But I do remember the beautiful lady who took me from the arms of the man on the horse. I didn't know where I was but I looked up at you and you were smiling. I felt safer than I'd ever felt with my relatives. You were my mother from the moment you held me in your arms, just as I am with Nicholas." She grins. "The only difference is that I had to wait a few years to find my mother."

Blinking away tears, Alex buries her face against the top of Nora's head and manages around the lump in her throat, "I don't believe you'll have to wait that long with Nicholas."

"I certainly hope not." Nora huffs but her fingers tighten around Alex's in quiet comfort. "I do have the advantage of breast milk."

Alex snorts, laughing through her tears.

Nora beams, lounging against her and touching a gentle finger to her son's tiny foot. "Can't we just stay here forever? Parker won't mind."

"I'm sure he would." Alex pats her head. "You'll be fine, my love. And when you need me, I'm only a short walk away."

Nora pouts. "You could just move in with us. Only for the first five years of his life or so. Unless I've got another baby by then, in which case I shall require your services for a bit longer."

Swallowing her laughter, Alex shakes her head. "I think your father would have something to say about that."

"He can't possibly need you more than I do." They both pause, glancing at each other, before breaking into quiet laughter again. "Alright, I suppose he does. For a grown man who's supposed

to be so bloody fearsome, he's far too dependent on you."

"I'm his raison d'être." Alex beams and Nora rolls her eyes.

"What's all this giggling about?" They both glance up and find Parker lounging in the doorway, looking rumpled and half-asleep. "It's the middle of the night, you know. All the decent folk are in bed."

"We've never been decent." Nora sniffs. "We're Smiths."

"Our poor son." Parker grins. "Nothing but Smiths and gypsies in his blood. He'll be a heathen for certain."

"Well, I used to be decent folk and I can tell you, heathens are much more fun." Alex deposits her grandchild into the arms of her daughter, brushing a kiss over his forehead. "Now what have I told you about sleeping while your little one sleeps? Off to bed, both of you."

"See what happens when we move back in?" Parker smirks at Nora. "We've got a bedtime again."

Nora nods in agreement. "And no story! Outrageous."

Waving them out of the room and into the corridor, Alex kisses Nora's cheek and then Parker's, smiling. "Goodnight, children."

Nora hugs her just a little too tight. "Thanks, Mum."

Alex watches them disappear down the hall, some unnamed warmth unfurling in her chest and wrapping around her heart. Thoughts drifting to her husband upstairs, she turns and walks slowly back through the manor and up the stairs, holding her rapidly melting candle aloft to light the way.

In their bedchamber, she snuffs out the candle and sets it aside, navigating her way through the room by memory alone. She sheds her dressing gown and drapes it over a chaise, crawling into bed. Instantly, Matt slips a strong arm around her waist, drawing her into his chest. Alex tucks her head under his chin, fitting snugly against him. "Still awake?"

He grunts.

She smiles, biting her lip. "Nora was thinking I should move in with them for a while in the spring. Just to help out until they're settled -"

"Out of the question."

"It would only be for a little while and it isn't like they live far away -"

His arm tightens around her waist. "No."

"You could visit me every day -"

"You're not going anywhere, pet." He grumbles, still half-asleep. "You're needed here."

She beams into the warm skin of his neck. "Yes, that's what I told her."

He huffs. "You're bloody impossible."

That warm, content feeling in her chest growing by the minute, Alex snuggles close and stifles her laughter, closing her eyes. "Goodnight, darling."

the primal thirst that burns all women's throats

Chapter Summary

"Mum," she begins carefully, watching Alex quickly lift her head with a frozen smile. Nora hesitates, uneasy. "Are you alright?"

"Perfectly, my love." She reaches out a hand and pats Nora's, still smiling. "Why do you ask?"

'Because you've trapped me in the kitchen with you, wrangled me into sitting at the table and then proceeded to let your tea grow cold while you stare broodily into it with an intensity that could rival Father', Nora thinks darkly. Outwardly, she clears her throat. "It's only, you seem a bit distracted."

Chapter Notes

Story title from Persephone by Emily Palermo.

When her mother corners her in the kitchen and practically herds her to the table, Nora knows something strange is happening. Generally, her mother tries to stay far away from the kitchen – particularly after that unfortunate incident at Hobbs' going away party. As much as Nora adores her mother and thinks she can do practically anything if she sets her mind to it, domestic tasks like cooking are not one of them.

They sit together at the little kitchen table where the servants usually eat in silence, Alex staring at her tea and avoiding her gaze while Nora studies her mother and tries to understand what this is all about. Every day her wedding draws closer – her heart skips a beat and she stifles a grin at the thought – the quieter and more fidgety her mother grows. She's starting to think perhaps Alex is worried about losing her little girl or something equally silly.

"Mum," she begins carefully, watching Alex quickly lift her head with a frozen smile. Nora hesitates, uneasy. "Are you alright?"

"Perfectly, my love." She reaches out a hand and pats Nora's, still smiling. "Why do you ask?"

Because you've trapped me in the kitchen with you, wrangled me into sitting at the table and then proceeded to let your tea grow cold while you stare broodily into it with an intensity that could rival Father, Nora thinks darkly. Outwardly, she clears her throat. "It's only, you seem a bit

distracted."

"Do I?"

Her mother is absolute rubbish at feigning innocence.

"You know, just because I'm getting married doesn't mean things will change between us. Parker and I aren't going far, just a few miles." She reaches for her mother's hand, squeezing her fingers. "I'll still be here practically every day and you'll still be able to scold me for my appalling manners and dirty clothes."

"Well, of course, lovely." Alex bestows her with a genuine, beaming grin – the kind that Nora knows makes her father agree to just about anything in order to see it. "We'll be so close I won't be able to miss you."

"Oh." She frowns. "Then what on earth is the matter?"

Alex bites her lip. "Am I being obvious?"

"Mum, you're being quiet. I'm worried about you," Nora laughs softly. "What's going on?"

She fidgets, twisting the fabric of her silk skirts in her hand. "Nora, my love," she begins hesitantly. "You and Parker haven't… I know how young people can be and everything is so new and exciting. I know you're in love and you feel very passionately about each other but you've – well, you've waited, haven't you?"

Nora blinks at her. "Waited?"

"To have intercourse."

Eyes widening, Nora feels her cheeks heat with a furious blush as she hisses, "Mother!"

Alex doesn't budge, apparently feeling braver now that the question is finally out in the open.

Nora idly wonders just how long she's been worrying about it. "Well, have you?"

"Of course we've waited!" She sputters, incensed. "For one thing you've raised me to be a lady if you'll remember and for another, you've taught Parker to be a gentleman. Besides, Father would kill him if he ever found out otherwise."

Looking relieved, her mother visibly relaxes. "Oh, thank heavens. I've been quite concerned about that." She picks up her tea and sips it with a content sigh, leaving Nora to gape at her in silence. "Now we can move on to the more interesting part."

Faintly terrified to discover this mortifying conversation isn't over, Nora manages, "Interesting part?"

Her mother nods eagerly, setting her teacup back onto the delicate china saucer. "A woman's wedding night can be a little scary if she's unprepared, so I thought we might have a chat about the new facet of your relationship with Parker before the well, the big event, I suppose." Folding her hands diplomatically in front of her, Alex fixes her with a kind, curious look full of motherly affection. "Now, what have you heard about sex?"

Nora blinks at her, wondering if she's having a nightmare.

Her mother begins to fidget again. "I only ask because I don't want you to get the wrong impression. I know a lot of women look upon sex as a sort of marital duty they must perform to keep their husbands happy and faithful but I don't want you to feel that way about it because it's… it's a beautiful, intimate act that will only bring the two of you closer." She grins. "And it's actually quite enjoyable if you have a considerate lover."

The words conjure some rather disturbing images about just who the considerate lover is that her mother is referring to and Nora groans, dropping her head into her hands, cheeks burning. "Mother, please -"

"Now, it might hurt a little the first time and you'll be sore for a few days after but you'll hardly mind, I promise." Alex taps her fingers against the table, thinking. "A lot of people say you'll bleed but you shouldn't – not if Parker is gentle and does it properly."

Speechless, Nora stares at her mother and tries to manage something other than furious blushing. So far, her attempts are unsuccessful.

Her mother finally looks up and sees her face, smiling gently. "You can't be shy about this sort of thing, my love. You can't be afraid to tell him what you want – what feels good and what just isn't working. Otherwise, how will he know? I remember your father always encouraged open communication, right from the beginning."

Nora makes a pitiful squeaking noise, burying her face in her hands.

"Now, your father and I never concerned ourselves with protection but you're young and I'm sure you're perfectly capable of having children. If you don't want them right away, you'll have to ensure that Parker -"

Nora holds up a hand, shaking her head. "Oh good heavens, I think I'm going to faint."

Her mother sighs, looking amused, as if Nora is being adorably dramatic. "Don't be silly," she says, sipping her tea. "You're my daughter – it's my job to have this discussion with you before your wedding. If I don't tell you these things, who will?"

Nora huffs. "Well, who told you?"

"No one." Her mother shrugs, lowering her eyes. "I just had to discover it on my own. My mother was far too grief-stricken about my marriage to bother telling me anything. She spent the night before my wedding sobbing into her pillow." She frowns, looking thoughtful. "So did I, as a matter of fact."

Heart squeezing a little in her chest at the thought, Nora rubs her fingers firmly over her sternum, swallowing. Her parents are so frightfully happy now that it's strange to imagine their rather unpleasant beginning, like it happened to some other couple.

This entire conversation has been absolutely mortifying but she can see that her mother is trying to do for her what her own mother never did. One thing her parents have always tried to do is arm her for any situation. Her father insisted on self-defense lessons and a string of large, overbearing dogs once poor old Alastor finally passed away. Her mother armed her with knowledge and she supposes this unfortunate conversation is just an extension of it. One last lesson before she lets her go.

Clearly, this is important to her mother. Eyeing her for a long moment, Nora finally sighs. "All

right. Go ahead."

Alex looks hopeful. "Really?"

Smiling, Nora nods. If this will put her mother at ease then she'll deal with a little awkwardness. "What else should I know?"

"Well…" She flounders, apparently at a loss now that she has full permission. "I suppose we should talk about the importance of intimacy – before and after. Foreplay is important, you know. As is flirting. Keeps a marriage interesting."

Fully aware of her parents' tendency to flirt openly and right in front of her, Nora can only nod. "So I've noticed."

"Imp."

She smiles. "Come on then, what else?"

"Erm, consent? Yes, consent." Her mother sits up a little straighter, pushing aside her tea. "If you're not in the mood, nothing happens, understand? Your father has never touched me unless I wanted it and that's how it should be. And the same goes for you, of course. Don't pester him if he's had a long day and just wants to sleep, all right?"

Nora nods faintly, wondering if she should be writing all of this down in case her mind decides to erase the entire scarring incident later.

"Now, let's see…" Alex taps her chin with her fingers, squinting. "There was something else I wanted to mention… Oh yes!" She lights up, beaming as she leans in close and whispers, "There is this magic little button down there -" She gestures briefly to her lap. "And you should know about it just in case Parker doesn't, in which case you must show him because good lord, it will make you see stars."

"I see." Nora purses her lips, wondering if she should mention she knows quite a lot about the clitoris thanks to her father's books she discovered hidden away in the library when she was fifteen. Finally deciding against it, she only nods. "I'll try to remember that." She pauses politely, waiting to see if her mother will speak again. When she only picks up her tea, Nora clears her throat. "Is that all?"

Her mother nods, smiling serenely. "Unless you have questions."

Nora shakes her head.

"Well." Alex smoothes the bodice of her dress, sighing. "I feel much better."

Nora stifles a snort, glad that at least one of them does. It's certainly much more knowledge about her parents' life behind closed doors than Nora ever wanted to know but to be honest, she can't help but be grateful for the advice. She doesn't know much about relationships. What she does know, she has learned from watching her mother and father. They bicker, of course, but for the most part, they seem caught in endless days of bliss, making eyes at each other from across the dining table or strolling through the moors holding hands, snogging in the library and forgetting to lock the door. She shudders to herself, pushing the memory away. Whatever it is they're doing, clearly it works. So she mentally notes all of her mother's advice and tucks it away, fighting back another case of embarrassing red cheeks.

Her mother rises from the table and crosses to the kitchen cupboards, pulling out a jar of biscuits Iris had made that morning. Carrying it to the table and setting it down between them, she opens the jar and takes one out, nibbling on it. "I certainly hope your father's talk with Parker goes just as well."

In the middle of foraging for her own biscuit, Nora snaps her head up to gape at her mother. "Father is talking to Parker? About – about what we just talked about?"

Alex nods, biting her lip against a mischievous grin. "Which one do you think will die of embarrassment first?"

Clapping a hand over her mouth, Nora giggles. Oh, her poor love.

Before today, he would never have guessed Lord Smith could blush. Not that he'd ever mention it for fear of his life. Well, that and he has absolutely no room to talk considering he's quite certain his complexion will never return to normal again.

Matt clears his throat, fingers tight around his glass of brandy. "You'll take care of her."

It isn't a question but Parker nods anyway. "Of course I will."

"You'll make sure she's happy and comfortable every single time is that clear? Nothing happens that she does not consent to."

"Of course not." Parker frowns. "I'm hardly some uncivilized brute about to carry your daughter off, you know. I love her."

Matt softens, eyeing him with reluctant fondness. "I know."

"Right." Parker nods. "Good."

"Take this." Matt opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out a book, handing it over.

Parker takes it from him, frowning down at the cover. "What is it?"

"An education."

Idly flipping through it, his eyes widen. "Oh. Thanks."

Reaching for his decanter of brandy, Matt holds it up with a questioning eyebrow.

Parker nods again, trying to make this as painless as possible for both of them. He imagines Alex must have forced him to have this conversation with his future son-in -law and he can't help but wonder if Nora is getting the same treatment elsewhere in the house. All the same, he can't feel sorry for her when he's in here with her stern father and his boss while she's probably off giggling about it with Alex. It still feels strange to call her Alex. To him, she has always been my Lady or Mistress or in some cases, Missus but never Alex. She'd insisted though, once he and Nora were properly engaged.

Matt hands him a drink and Parker takes it gratefully. "So… is this what you read before you married Alex?"

Lifting his eyes from his drink, Matt glares.

"Sorry, no personal questions. Got it." He grins, ducking his head. "She seems pretty happy though so clearly it was time well spent -"

Matt says nothing but his fingers tighten almost imperceptibly around his glass.

"Yes, you're right, I should definitely shut up." He grips his book. "Erm, good talk?"

Matt nods, still scowling at him.

They both drink.

From somewhere down the corridor, he hears Nora laughing.

every year we will return alive

Chapter Summary

There is nothing that makes him as angry as feeling helpless does. He hasn't felt this way since Alex lost their first little one and he prowls the corridor with tense shoulders, hands curled into fists as he listens to his daughter cry out in pain.

Chapter Notes

Story title from Diary by Rachel Zucker.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

There is nothing that makes him as angry as feeling helpless does. He hasn't felt this way since Alex lost their first little one and he prowls the corridor with tense shoulders, hands curled into fists as he listens to his daughter cry out in pain. As much as he still mourns the loss of that child, some small, petty part of him can't help but be grateful he never had to experience this with Alex. The thought of her in this much pain makes him physically ill.

Parker isn't doing much better, sitting on the floor right outside the door, slumped against the wall with his eyes shut and a grimace on his face. "This is my fault," he mutters, sounding wretched.

Matt whirls on him, glaring. "Yes," he seethes. "It is."

Parker doesn't move and his expression doesn't change, but he clearly takes no offense to being heaped with blame in Matt's ire. Inexplicably irritated about that, Matt paces past him, head down, scowling viciously at the floor as on the other side of the wall, Nora cries out for her mother. He hears the low, reassuring murmur of Alex's voice next and he pauses, listening in the hopes that perhaps just the sound of her voice might calm him too. It usually does.

He can't make out anything she's saying but for a few moments, it is Alex he hears and not Nora wailing like the little beast inside her is tearing her in half. Matt closes his eyes and presses his hand against the wall, drinking in the moment of peace and wondering if maybe it's all over now. But they would have heard the little one cry, wouldn't they? If it's healthy then – but what if it isn't healthy? What if Nora suffers the same affliction Alex had? Matt draws in a ragged breath. What if she too will know the loss of a child?

Just as he's working himself into a good and proper panic, Nora cries out again and he hates that it's actually preferable to the alternative. Growling, Matt pushes away from the wall and begins to pace again. "It's been hours. How long can this possibly take?"

"Hours, apparently."

Not in the mood for Parker's cheek, Matt bites out, "I will kill you and dispose of you while everyone is distracted, boy. Don't think I won't." When Parker almost smiles, he scowls. "We already have an heir now. There's no further use for you."

"Except your undying affection for me." Parker grins wearily, dark circles under his eyes and his hair an appalling mess from running his fingers through it. "Besides, what if it's a girl? Don't want her running the business, do you?"

Matt eyes him without mirth. "I can't see how it would be any different than you running the business."

"Ouch."

From the other side of the wall, Nora shrieks.

Parker flinches, all humor draining from his face as he drops his head into his hands. Matt watches him with some strange feeling in his chest resembling pity, wondering how he might be coping if it were Alex in there. He doubts he would handle the situation with nearly as much grace, imagining he probably would have ended up with another ruined study by the time the child finally came along.

After a moment, Parker scrubs his face roughly and lifts his head, looking to Matt helplessly. "It's normal, right? That it's taking this long?"

He paces away from Parker and his pleading eyes, hands shoved into his pockets.

"It's just – she's so tiny." Parker breathes out shakily. "How much of this can her body take?"

He was never there for the birth of any of his sister's children and his own child came along as a

four-year-old girl trying to steal fruit in the marketplace. He has no real experience on which to draw to give Parker or himself the reassurance they need.

For the hundredth time since Nora went into labor and he began pacing this corridor, he wishes for Alex. She's much better at comforting and nurturing than he could ever hope to be. He needs her strength and her wisdom right now, needs her warm hand in his and that breathtaking smile that promises her belief in him and her faith that everything will be perfectly fine. But for once, someone else needs her more than he does. Nora needs her mother and right now, Parker needs him, whether Matt likes it or not.

"Women have babies all the time," he snaps. "And some of them are in labor for days."

Parker looks instantly ill and Matt bites his tongue, silently cursing himself. He really needs Alex. "Days?" He repeats numbly. "Days? I can't do this for days!"

Matt whirls, frowning savagely. "If my daughter can be in agony with your spawn for days then you will damn well sit out here and listen for just as long."

Chastened, Parker massages his fingertips at his temple, looking defeated. "I just want it to stop," he says softly. "She's hurting and I can't do anything about it. I can't help her; I can't make it go away. It's torture." He slams a fist against the floor, his mouth a grim line. "Is it normal to feel angry? Because I am so furious I could strangle something with my bare hands."

Matt stares at him for a long moment, wondering if Parker has always been so like him or if it's the direct result of working so closely with the lad all these years. In any case, looking at the distraught young man on the floor ready to murder anything or anyone if it'll take away the pain his wife feels, Matt is overwhelmed with a new and sudden kinship for the boy who has always been like his own. Lips twitching, he nods once. "It's normal, son."

Parker looks relieved to hear it, slumping against the wall once more. Matt sighs, reaching into the pocket of his waistcoat and pulling out a cigar. Lighting it, he holds out a hand, offering it to the lad. Squinting up at him, Parker slowly takes the cigar. "Aren't we supposed to wait until Junior's actually born?"

He lights his own cigar and inhales greedily. "Wait if you like."

Parker shrugs, sticking his cigar in his mouth. "It's this or get smashed," he mumbles around it. "Thanks… Dad."

Startled, Matt lifts his head.

Parker grins. "Or Matt, if you prefer."

He glares, puffing out a mouthful of smoke.

"Right. Sorry." Parker shrugs, still smiling to himself. "Granddad it is then."

Overcome with the desire to snatch the cigar from the cheeky young man sprawled on the floor, Matt barely has time to move before he hears, "Alright, my love, push!"

Head snapping to the closed door where Nora is, along with Alex and a physician, Matt barely notices Parker doing the same. They stare in complete silence, smoking and fidgeting.

Nora cries out. "Mum, I can't. Please -"

"Shh, yes you can. You can do this. Just a few more and it's over, alright?" Matt closes his eyes and listens to his wife's voice, picturing her bent over their child, wiping the sweat from her brow and smiling that soft, encouraging smile of hers. "You're almost there. Just a little more and then you can rest and hold your little one, I promise."

Nora whimpers but she must nod because next comes the low murmur of the physician's voice, encouraging another push. Standing outside the door, Matt listens with his jaw clenched and his cigar held so tightly in his hand he nearly snaps it in two. The house is filled with Nora's groaning cries and little stifled sobs that tear at his heart. He can't get away from the noise. It surrounds him, like some godawful nightmare he can't escape, and then after one last wailing cry, the world falls silent.

On the floor beside him, Parker lifts his head, pale and hopeful.

Matt stares hard at the door, waiting, his whole frame taut with tension.

Finally, a tiny wail pierces the quiet.

Eyes falling shut, Matt sags against the wall and sticks his cigar back in his mouth.

Parker laughs in relief, tears in his eyes. "Congratulations, Granddad."

Too emotionally wrung out to hit him and too happy to scowl, Matt settles for a soft huff of laughter. The great and terrible Lord Smith, terror of scoundrels, waifs, and formerly wealthy gentleman everywhere, is now someone's granddad. He wonders idly what happened to the young man who would have scoffed at the mere thought and then realizes he'd lost that part of himself the first time Nora called him Papa.

Jumping up, Parker leaps for the door just as it opens and nearly barrels over the physician walking out, blood on his clothes and hands. Taking the startled old man by the collar of his shirt, Parker asks urgently, "She's alright?"

The old man nods, wide-eyed. "Of course," he stutters out. "Mother and child are just fine. You can go in -"

Parker releases him in an instant, fleeing past the old man and into the room, already calling out for his wife. The old physician breathes a sigh of relief until he spots Matt lurking. He flinches back, looking more nervous than before, as Matt looms over him.

"You're certain she's fine?" Matt frowns down at him. "You checked? She hasn't lost too much blood or torn anything? She's very small -"

"Women are made to carry babies, Lord Smith." The physician almost smiles at him but stops instantly when Matt scowls. "Your daughter did very well and you have a healthy new grandchild."

Determined to see for himself, Matt walks past the physician and into the room where his daughter is without another word. Parker sits on the edge of the bed beside Nora, cradling his child and staring down at the little face in awe. Nora smiles tiredly beside him, one hand on her husband's knee and the other caressing the top of her baby's scalp.

The drapes in the room have been parted to let in the early morning light and it shows just how pale and tired Nora is, her face lined with exhaustion. Matt feels his stomach twist at the sight and he turns, looking for Alex. She hovers over Nora and Parker but her eyes are on him, her smile

soft. Unmoving in the middle of the room, Matt stares back at her, blinking hard.

She goes to him instantly and when he opens his arms, she steps into them, burying her face against his chest. He holds her tightly to him, dropping his face into her hair. "She's alright?"

Alex nods, small hands smoothing gently over his back. "She's perfect." Pulling back to beam up at him, she cups his face in her hands and laughs. "And so is our grandson."

His heart leaps and he can't help the smile that Alex instantly covers with her mouth, kissing him thoroughly. He clings to her, fingers gripping the fabric of her dress until his knuckles ache. "A boy?" He asks when they finally part. "Really?"

"A beautiful, healthy boy." Alex grins widely. Her rumpled hair spills down her back in a tangled braid, her eyes are tired and her face is still pale with worry but Matt has never seen her look quite as radiant as she does right now, basking in the knowledge of their first grandchild. "I love you, you know."

He nods, pressing his forehead to hers. "More than I deserve."

She shakes her head, still smiling so brightly he feels a corresponding twitch in his own mouth that threatens to overtake his whole face. "Thank you," she whispers. "For giving me this."

"What?"

"Our wonderful, strange little family."

He huffs quietly, tucking a wayward blonde curl behind her ear. "I think you've got that backwards, pet. It was you who gave me everything."

"Why don't you call it even and get over here?"

They both turn to find Nora watching them from her cushioned spot in bed, her smile all at once exasperated and affectionate. Parker leans in and kisses her forehead, still cradling his son and grinning like a fool. Nora leans into her husband, watching her mother and father tiredly. "Would you like to hold him, Papa?"

Matt hesitates and Alex sighs, taking his hand and pulling him with her toward the bed. "He's a newborn, darling, but not glass. Come along." He lurks behind her, watching his wife lift the child from Parker's arms with a soft coo, swaying gently as she turns and faces him, holding out the little lad for him to take. "You won't break him, I promise."

Slowly, he holds out his arms and Alex shifts the baby to him, guiding his hand to cradle the tiny, fragile head in his palm. Matt drops his gaze to the little face blinking up at him and feels his breath catch, caught in that groggy, sleepy-eyed stare. This newborn looks much like any other, none of the features quite defined enough just yet to make him particularly handsome or resembling his mother or father. Still, this newborn is special. This one is the product of the two people he has loved best in this world besides his wife. This is another person to love and to protect, another person added to the patchwork family he has created for himself from nothing – the little orphan boy who finally found a place in the world. This newborn looks much like any other but this one is his grandson.

He peers down at the little face, a lump forming in his throat.

At his side, Alex curls a hand around his bicep, humming softly.

He clears his throat, lifting his head. "Have a name for the lad yet?"

Cuddled into Parker's side and allowing him to comb his fingers through her long, dark hair, Nora nods. "We decided to call him Nicholas."

He nods silently in approval. It's a good name – a good strong name for a strong little lad.

Watching him with soft eyes, Nora nudges Parker, who looks up with a grin. "Nicholas Matthew, actually."

Eyes snapping up to them, Matt stares in stunned silence, the lump in his throat threatening to overwhelm him entirely. At his side, Alex laughs softly, kissing his cheek. "That's quite a name to live up to."

"He can handle it." Nora smiles. "He's a Smith."

Chapter End Notes

Hi guys! So this was the last chapter of Persephone fic! I'm really sad about that but I'm more sad that I feel like I need to delete my Mattex fics. If you aren't already aware, Alex Kingston got an Instagram and has since been directed by a few idiots to read RPF. I doubt she does but the fact that people would even mention it is crossing a line, especially since her daughter is on Instagram as well and can read all of those comments. Anyway, I'm giving everyone the weekend to download what they'd like to keep and after that, my Mattex fics will be deleted. That being said, here's the last chapter! I would still love to read your comments though, guys. I'm trying to save the ones that were particularly special to me:) I've appreciated all of your comments and all of your kudos and messages over the course of my foray into Mattex fic. You've all been so lovely and I'm going to miss it so much!

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