Author's note: This was written for klarolineauseason Klaroline AU Season 2022, June 26th, Week 4: Historical. Lord Finn Mikaelson is tired of Niklaus' disreputable behavior with a common shopgirl. Fortunately, he has a plan to quietly end this embarrassing liaison before things get out of hand.
"But sometimes the right girl did end up with the right boy. Sometimes their love won."
— Caroline George, Dearest Josephine
It was most unseemly how Lord Donovan's boasts echoed throughout the chamber of the private gentlemen's club. Lord Mikaelson could begrudgingly admit he played a magnificent hand, but there was such a thing as decorum. Finn adjusted the diamond cufflinks that had turned askew during the last round, letting out a disgruntled sigh as he realized Niklaus was late yet again. Likely mucking about with that coarse little shopgirl.
His brother had never been temperate in his vices, gleefully flaunting his penchant for drink and women to the everlasting shame of his kinsmen. Not that it mattered one whit to the ton — the powerful Mikaelson surname had smoothed many a ruffled feather over the years. Indeed, every season was an embarrassment of riches for the Lords Mikaelson, all of the brothers considered lofty targets for every sharp-eyed maiden with their pretty beaks open.
But then there was a drunken duel, Niklaus' favorite morning coat damaged, and an irate shopgirl — a confluence of absurd events that somehow led to his brother's greatest folly to date. Finn grimaced into his glass, the fine brandy naught but ash on his tongue as he considered the most recent disgraceful moments involving Niklaus and that impudent tart — squiring her to Lady Lockwood's high tea, carriage rides in Wickery Park, and then that appalling nonsense where he dared to bring her to the esteemed White Oak Costumed Ball!
It was utter madness and high time he put an end to this unseemly courtship. With a long-suffering sigh, he tossed down his cards, murmuring apologies to the rest of the table. "Sorry gents, I must be off to tend to family business."
Several made commiserating noises as many suspected what unsavory errand he was on about, but no one would dare speak aloud of such things. Except, of course, the foul reprobate, Lord Salvatore. As Finn passed by a shadowy corner where the club's members gave wide berth, the disgraced lord drunkenly slurred, "It's a fool's errand you're on about, Mikaelson."
From the stench of the smoke rings encircling Lord Salvatore, it would seem he'd taken to indulging in the most rubbish of cigar brands. Not that he could afford more costly fare if the rumors churning throughout the ton were accurate.
At his raised brow, the disheveled cretin prodded, "You're off to see Caroline, eh?" Raking fingers through his greasy dark locks, a peculiar glint of madness seemed to come over him as he warned, "Stay your prideful intentions. It will lead to your ruin."
"Miss Forbes will lead to my ruin," Finn scoffed incredulously. "She's but a coarse little shopgirl whose grasping ambitions have far exceeded her station."
As he exited the private gentlemen's club, Lord Salvatore's final urging lingered in his ear. "This vendetta will become your greatest regret."
The shabby little shop wasn't without its charm; Finn thought with a critical glance as he exited the carriage. The paint may have been faded, but there was a cheerful glow to the storefront of Forbes Finery. The whimsical brass bells merrily chimed as he entered, and he fought the ridiculous urge to smile. There was no mirth to be found on this errand.
Miss Forbes was straightening bolts of delicate woven broadcloth and glanced up, her lips curved into a warm smile that no doubt earned extra shillings from enchanted customers. Her smile immediately faded when she registered him, and Finn fancied he could feel a sudden chill through his tailcoat.
He could admit she was still quite comely despite the absence of her sunshine smile. He'd often said the working class seemed to possess a certain vigor that produced a glow of sorts. Niklaus merely had gotten swept up in the wake of this tawdry effect.
"Lord Mikaelson," she replied stiffly with only the slightest of head tilts — enough to be considered passably polite, but there was a hint of mockery to the gesture that made him want to gnash his teeth. "Apologies, but the hour grows late and the shop will close soon. Perhaps I could arrange an appointment at your earliest convenience?"
"Ah yes, the streets will darken soon and certainly will be no place for a lady." Making a show of studying her closely, he added with a sneer, "However, you are no lady. At least, not the sort that may associate with my family. You're a guttersnipe cutpurse who desires to gorge yourself on our fortune and good name."
Finn expected tears and recriminations, perhaps wailing out her soft heart at his harsh words — but he did not expect her laughter. Cruel and mocking, Miss Forbes' laughter rang throughout her shop, pricking at his skin. "And you, good sir, are a boastful peacock masquerading as a gentleman. I'd warrant one could find more dignity in a full chamber pot than in your whole person."
"Impudent tart, you're neither fit for a bawdy house nor genteel society," he spat, nursing a fervent desire to wound her pride soundly.
Her blue eyes glittered with mirth, and he dare say he saw a bit of the devil within them — perhaps that's what drove Niklaus' peculiar obsession for this coarse little shopgirl? That piercing gaze danced along his frame and her lilting voice was laced with venom as she retorted, "And that atrocious tailcoat is fit for naught but the ash cart. Whatever charlatan convinced you that scalloped lace collars were still fashionable should be commended for their oratory."
Finn was apoplectic with fury, feeling his cheeks redden at her cutting remarks. As he spluttered incoherently, she added, "Since we both know you're not here for assistance with your abysmal wardrobe, please proceed with your pointless threats and bribes so that the rest of my evening may commence."
"Very well," he icily replied, "You will end this detestable pursuit of Niklaus at once. Tell my brother whatever lies your deceitful tongue deems plausible. In return, you will receive 2,000 pounds annually until you manage to ensnare some other bumbling fool to wed." He carelessly waved around her musty shop, commenting disdainfully, "It's a pittance I offer, but certainly enough that you may shutter this...hovel and live comfortably as landed gentry."
Miss Forbes' fingers twitched near a brass candlestick, and Finn fancied that she was weighing the merits of soundly rapping his skull. "This hovel is my family's legacy. How dare you besmirch our good name because you find fault with my lineage!" Shaking her head angrily, the bit of lace in her hair shifted, dislodging more blonde curls. Her voice conveyed an odd note of sadness as she confessed, "Is your brother's happiness so repugnant to you? The love that has bloomed between us is transcendent. We are not who we were, but are all the better for having met."
Finn started to interrupt the silly chit's ramblings, but was struck dumb by her next revelation. "He paints the most wondrous creations; I'm in awe of his masterful designs. Such whimsy," she mused with a wry smile, "although I admonish him for wasting his talent on my countenance."
Niklaus was painting once more? He hadn't picked up a brush since they were lads at Eton. Finn couldn't help being curious as to what other changes had come about in his wayward brother...No. These flights of fancy do not matter. His brother owed allegiance to the family and must preserve its standing and fortune. He was to do his duty and marry well — not sport with a trollop laughably below his station.
"Take your insulting enticements of sordid coin and never cross this threshold again," Miss Forbes told him firmly, pointing to the door with a final glare.
"Enough with this foolishness; take the money, you brazen tart!"
There was an unexpected fire in her blue gaze that gave him pause. A peculiar air seemed to come over Miss Forbes. A potent peasant's wisdom. Was this what had enraptured Niklaus?
Miss Forbes hissed, "I'd no interest in speaking of such matters, but I see the time for delicacy has long since passed. Much to my dismay, I know more about your appetites than I care to. I'm speaking, of course, of the Gilded Compass."
Finn felt the air leave his lungs and he fought to retain his composure. "I know not of what you speak."
"There is a beguiling redhead who plies her trade at the Gilded Compass. You frequent her bed even more than the fleas."
He took a shaky breath, meant to reassure, but Niklaus' virago had rattled him to his core. "A gentleman frequenting a house of ill repute would not raise the ire of the ton."
"But one who has succumbed to the French disease and has taken great pains to hide his condition would face certain ruination. Obscene wealth may blind the ton into forgetting many of your deficiencies, but such blatant deceit would never be forgiven."
Finn gasped, fists clenched as he fought to make sense of this dizzying nightmare. Miss Forbes had cruelly turned the knife until he was completely at her mercy. No wonder Niklaus was so enamored. "Very well. I will abandon my vendetta against you and outwardly show support for this...courtship with Niklaus," he huffed. "I trust there will be no further mention of these unseemly matters?"
She laughed gaily, delicately dabbing at the corner of her eyes with a silken handkerchief. "Your support is worth less than a fart in the wind. But it gladdens my heart to know I'll never again endure another of your hypocritical insults."
His humiliation complete, Finn gave her a short nod, bitterly walking toward the door. However, just as he crossed the threshold, she gleefully called out, "There is one last thing..."
Later that week, every paper featured the most intriguing news. It seemed that the modest storefront, Forbes Finery, suddenly had purchased its rival's business, Gilbert & Son, and soon would become the premier purveyor of fine textiles.
Never underestimate the ambitions of a coarse little shopgirl.
