Disclaimer: This fanfic is rated 'M' for adult themes. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games or of Pride and Prejudice, although I wish I did.
Chapter 11:
"There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me."
- Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen
Summer had turned to fall and with it the promise of a bountiful harvest. The signs were all around as Katniss strolled along the stone wall that marked the boundary between Seamfirth and Seaforth Park. As an ever-present titan, the great estate sat grandly as ever on the next hill over, the gleaming white exterior impossible to miss. Its halls currently lay vacant, as Annie and Mr. Odair had taken to the Capitol for a time to make the necessary societal rounds after the wedding.
In her most recent letter, Annie had promised they would return before the first crisp winds of winter arrived. She had also confessed that as exciting as the Capitol was with its grandiose balls and concerts and afternoons filled with calling upon acquaintances…it was proving to be downright exhausting. Katniss did not envy her cousin even the slightest in that regard, but she missed Annie dearly.
As she sat atop the wall, Katniss pulled from her coat pocket a letter that had arrived on her way out for her morning walk. It was from Mrs. Crane and true to her friend's pragmatic nature, the message was short and to the point. It was an invitation to visit their cottage which was situated on the outskirts of the Capitol. There was no reason to deny her dear friend's request, nor did she want to.
With the rather swift sale of Huntingford shortly after the wedding, Mrs. Abernathy had wasted no time with hiring extra staff. A lady's maid for each of them, both a scullery and kitchen maid to help Mrs. Sae, a stable boy, and even a gardener. Although bordering on the excessive, Katniss could find no reason to complain. It was a luxury they could now afford and it had the wonderful effect of putting Aunt Effie in a perpetually agreeable disposition.
But not all shared the same sentiments about the changing seasons. As expected, the regiments stationed close to Town had packed up their camps and continued the march towards their postings to the west. Though the departure of the red coats was the reason for the melancholy mood of her younger cousins, Katniss was glad to be rid of the soldiers. Or rather, one soldier in particular. Visits to Town were once again a pleasant affair without having to worry about an unexpected confrontation with Mr. Cray.
And without as many chores to fill her day, Katniss had taken to her favorite pastimes once again. Her request to explore the vast property of Seaforth Park whenever she wished was of course approved wholeheartedly by Mr. Odair. There were endless trails to explore and the serene surrounding of the trees and wildlife had settled her soul in a way she had not felt in ages.
As she folded the letter from Madge and returned it to her coat pocket, her fingers brushed against another note. Since discovering it the night of the wedding, attached to the dandelion flower that now lay preserved and pressed in one of her favorite books, she had come to carry this particular message with her always. She feared the parchment would start to fray given the number of times she had opened and folded it, the creases visible through the familiar yet elegant script.
Wait for me.
Those three simple words had kept her up many a night, unsure of their true meaning. What was she to wait for? Patience was not one of her virtues, nor one she wished to improve upon. As the days and weeks passed with no further letters from Mr. Mellark, she had come to the conclusion that those mysterious words would forever remain as such. Numerous attempts at a response had ended crumpled on the floor but even if she had managed to complete one, she was uncertain where to direct the reply. At least, that was what she had convinced herself of but even now the excuse sounded weak to her own ears.
A visit with Madge would be a much-appreciated distraction, so upon returning to Seamfirth, she began preparations for her journey straightaway. Mr. Abernathy had arranged for a coach the next day and as luck would have it, her travelling companion was a quiet young woman who had recently taken a position as a maid for a family in the Capitol.
With the coach properly loaded and secured with more trunks than necessary, Katniss accepted her uncle's help to her seat. Once settled, she smiled at the woman across from her, who greeted her with a nod before returning her attention to her book.
"Are you sure you have all you need?" her uncle inquired through the window upon closing the door.
"And then some," she said with a laugh. "Should I be worried? One would think Aunt Effie was turning me out. I am certain she has the entirety of my wardrobe packed."
Mr. Abernathy laughed and shook his head. "Now, mind yourself along the journey. I know you will tell me not to worry, but that will be impossible. Send word upon your safe arrival and then, by all means, enjoy yourself."
"I will, Uncle." Leaning out the window, Katniss gave a final wave to her family as the coach lurched into motion.
"Give our regards to Madge!" Mrs. Abernathy shouted, waving her kerchief in the breeze. "And write to us of any news you may hear of our dear Annie!"
The trip had been pleasantly uneventful. After sharing the usual pleasantries with her travelling companion, the passage of time was measured by the number of chapters she read from her current book. Another unfortunate and frustrating romance novel of Portia's. Why she relied on her cousin for recommendations these days was beyond her. Perhaps an investment in expanding their menial library at Seamfirth would be a good use of a portion of her share of the inheritance.
By the time the Crane's quaint cottage came into view over the next hill, it was well into the late afternoon. Katniss looked forward to nothing more than stretching her tired muscles, changing out from her rumpled travelling clothes, and settling into Madge's new parlor to catch up on the months that had passed.
The couple was out in the garden to greet her as the coach came to stop in front of the parsonage. "Miss Everdeen!" Mr. Crane announced as he opened the door and helped her down. "Welcome! How wonderful it is to see you. My dear wife has spoken of naught but your visit since the moment we received your letter."
"Thank you, sir," Katniss replied with a curtsey. As she took in her dear friend, she could not resist the urge to wrap her into a tight embrace. "Oh, how I have missed you!"
"Come now, ladies, let us not make a spectacle for all to see on the doorstep. Into the house with you both and I shall see your bags to your room."
It was with amused curiosity that Katniss took in Madge's new home. Although weathered in some places, it was obvious that Mr. Crane had made a sore attempt to elevate the interior beyond its natural capacity. It was an odd comfort to find that Mr. Crane was as vainglorious and cumbersome as ever, taking every opportunity to highlight every gaudy display within the house. An intricate dynasty vase from the Orient. A precious artifact from ancient Egypt. All gifts from his ever-generous patron. Oh, the irony! If he intended to demonstrate what all could have been hers, it only made her more thankful for refusing his advances.
"Pardon us, husband," Madge interrupted just as Mr. Crane was about to delve into the pros and cons of gold leaf overlay versus brass inlays. "Our guest must be weary from her travels and so I shall show her to my parlor for a respite."
"But we have not yet seen the gardens and the—"
"Husband," Madge said with a firm voice. "I think she should appreciate the gardens best once she is rested."
Mr. Crane paused but then nodded. "Yes, you are quite right. I will see to my sermons then. Should you need—"
"Thank you, my dear," Madge said as she ushered Katniss into the parlor. "We are grateful for your attentiveness, you are ever the gracious host."
"Yes, well, I will see you at dinner then. We will be having—"
Katniss stifled a laugh as Madge closed the door in her husband's face. They regarded each other for a moment before the two burst into a fit of laughter. "I must commend you," Katniss managed between gasps. "It did not take long for you to learn how to handle that one."
"Oh, Kat, how I have missed your wit! My husband is ever so fond of conversation if that was not already glaringly obvious. But yes, I learnt quickly that all it takes is a firm hand and a strategically placed request veiled in a compliment to bring him to heel."
The two ladies settled into the plush armchairs that flanked the fireplace. Of all the rooms she had seen, this was the only one that appeared thoughtfully arranged. The rich, earthy tones of the rug, wall, and drapes worked in complete harmony to create an atmosphere of warmth.
"You have done wonders to this parlor. I am worried to imagine the state it was in upon your arrival."
Madge chuckled and she poured a cup of tea and passed it to Katniss. "It was not as decrepit as I too had feared, but it was missing a woman's touch, that is for certain. As does the rest of the house, but I am only one woman," she said with a laugh. The two then looked upon each other as they sipped their tea.
"You look wonderful," Katniss said, and it was the truth. "It does my heart well to see you settled and in such great spirits." Madge appeared as though the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. Her healthy complexion glowed, her cheeks full and blushed, and the pride that radiated from her as she gazed about the room was unmistakable. "And how are you and Mr. Crane getting along?"
"I am quite content with how it has worked out. He really is quite harmless. He appreciates my forwardness and I in turn have come to appreciate that he says every thought that goes through his head. I never need to presume what the man is thinking. We have the makings of what I hope will be a pleasant partnership."
Madge paused thoughtfully and then continued. "I will admit that the wife of a clergyman may not be the most glamourous. Some days it is a trifle lonely, but that is what makes your visit even more precious."
"I am glad of it, and I have missed you dreadfully as well."
"Now, tell me of Annie's wedding, and do not skimp on a single detail!"
With that, the two talked well into the evening, just as they had when they were girls. And it did Katniss's heart wonders.
Three days later, Mr. Crane was all a flutter, knocking incessantly at the parlor door as Katniss and Madge enjoyed their afternoon tea. An invitation had arrived requesting their presence at Rosings that evening for dinner. Before she could ask if they could decline, Mr. Crane informed them that he had just dispatched a reply signifying their acceptance.
A second letter has also arrived, one from Seamfirth. Her uncle had confirmed that Mr. and Mrs. Heavensbee would be travelling through the area at the end of the week on their way to visit Mr. Heavensbee's sister in the north. Although the route would be a slight detour to Seamfirth, he said the scenic views and good conversation would be a pleasant way to pass the time.
"I must warn you," Mr. Crane said as he steered the ladies out of the parlor as if herding a pair of wayward geese. "Rosings is the envy of all the Capitol, a true diamond in the rough. Its splendor is beyond anything you have ever beheld, I guarantee it. I do hope you have brought with you the proper attire, for we only wear our finest in the presence of Sir Snow. If not, perhaps there is time to see if we can unpick one of my wife's dresses or—"
"I will be fine, Sir, do not fret." Katniss caught the roll of Madge's eyes and stifled a laugh.
Although slightly perturbed by Mr. Crane's words, she had come to learn from Madge's exchanges with her husband that it truly was in his nature to speak without thought. It was also at that moment she was grateful Aunt Effie had packed every last dress that she owned, for there was no doubt as to which of Katniss's dresses was her finest.
"Then I will leave you ladies to your business," Mr. Cray said with a bow. "Or whatever it is the fairer sex does to prepare for such things."
After helping Madge with her hair and Madge with hers, Katniss stood at the end of the bed and looked upon Mr. Cinna's masterpiece. She brushed the hem of the skirt with her fingertips, taking in the smooth texture of the pale yellow silk. Memories transported her back to a crowded dancefloor. Firm but achingly sweet pressure pressed to the small of her back. An all-consuming warmth that seeped deep into her skin. The intensity behind a captivating blue stare that took the very breath from her lungs—
A knock at the door caused her to startle. "Miss Everdeen," came Mr. Crane's muffled voice. "Do hurry, we do not wish to be late."
Her hand flew to the rapid beating of her heart. "I will be out in a moment." She drew in a deep breath, hoping to temper the infernal tightening in her chest. Now was not the time to dwell on such thoughts.
With a sigh, she slipped into her dress, her skin tingling against the cool cloth. As she regarded herself from head to toe in the looking glass, she felt as though something was missing. Spying her trunks in the corner of the room, she wondered. After a quick search, she found what she was hoping for. Buried beneath her folded underclothes was the familiar box and tucked within the velvet confines, the necklace from Mr. Mellark. There were most likely other necklaces that her aunt had packed that would have complemented the dress, but none compared to the stone she held in her hand.
Another knock had her clasping the delicate chain around her neck, centering the pendant just below the hollow of her throat. With one final glance in the mirror, she gathered her shawl and they were off to Rosings.
From the carriage window, Katniss stared in awe as they travelled down the torch-lined driveway. The estate itself appeared as though illuminated by a thousand flames, casting eerie shadows against the marble pillars and the expanse of exterior walls.
"Is it not marvelous?" Mr. Crane said with wonderment, himself captivated by the view.
"Quite," Katniss whispered.
As the carriage continued up the laneway, Mr. Crane continued to drone on and on about the number of rooms and fireplaces and staircases, to which Katniss could not help but roll her eyes. Madge chuckled and shook her head. With the sprawling rose gardens that surrounded the property, it was no wonder where the estate had received its namesake.
It was false to say that she was not the slightest bit curious about the renowned Sir Snow. Would the rumors she'd heard prove true? Would he have a cordial disposition, but hidden behind it a disreputable past filled with scandal and foul play? Was it possible the reason Sir Snow had taken on the surrounding parish, and hence Mr. Crane as his patron, as an attempt to improve his tarnished reputation?
Her thoughts then took on a more selfish nature. Would he speak openly of his nephews? Share stories about their pursuits and business? Perhaps news of the current whereabouts of a particular nephew?
As they descended the carriage and made their way up the steps, she could not ignore the oppressive feeling that threatened to send her straight for the carriage and back to the parsonage. The stuffy footman at the door who looked down his nose at them as they entered did not help matters.
Once inside, it was confirmed. The eerie feel of the estate did not stop at the exterior. The chandelier within the entryway sparkled in the candlelight, accentuating the sharp point of each facet as though it was made up of hundreds of glass daggers. As they followed the footmen down the grand hallway, the number of vases filled with roses was excessive. The almost sickeningly sweet smell had her nose twitching.
When they reached the drawing room, Katniss was loath to admit that Mr. Crane had been correct. She had never before seen a room of such opulence and excess. The luxurious space was wrapped in floor-to-ceiling mahogany paneled walls and fine silk drapes adorned every window.
Seated in the pair of ornate armchairs that flanked the marble fireplace, was a young woman with sharp features and an unsmiling face. In the other sat a small man with white hair and a peculiar stare. There was no doubt he was the master of the estate, with the way he surveyed the room with a reptilian gaze as if its occupants were his prey.
"It is about time," the man said, narrowing his attention on Mr. Crane. "Do not linger in the doorway."
As Katniss followed Mr. Crane and Madge further into the room, she could not help but feel the judgmental stare of the man and the young woman as they approached.
"Sir Snow, my deepest apologies for our tardiness, our carriage was—"
"Enough," the man said, his refined yet authoritative tone silencing Mr. Crane. "It appears introductions are in order, do proceed."
"Oh yes, Sir Snow, you would of course remember my wife Mrs. Crane? And may I present to you Miss Everdeen, a dear friend of my wife who has been visiting with us this week."
Mr. Crane motioned to Katniss and she dipped into a shallow curtsy. "It is a pleasure, Sir."
Sir Snow's answering glare was unnerving. "This is my daughter, Miss Clove."
"Pleasure," the young woman said in a harsh tone, not bothering to rise for the introduction but rather giving Katniss a stiff nod. The arrogance that dripped from that one word made it obvious to everyone in the room their difference in rank.
Not willing to stoop so low as to forgo all manners, Katniss curtsied again and forced a smile. Then, no longer wishing to be the focus of their attention, immediately shrank back to take refuge behind Mr. Crane and Madge.
After the awkward exchange, Katniss was content to remain quiet as she took in her surroundings. Two other couples were present, but without Sir Snow's initiative to provide the proper introductions, she had to rely on Madge to supply any information about the other guests. Both couples were from the Capitol, with both gentlemen in some sort of business with Sir Snow.
There were only two things in the room that Sir Snow did not look upon with his condescending stare, the perfect white rose pinned on the lapel of his jacket and his daughter. Although small in stature and exceptionally pretty, Miss Clove appeared a severe creature whose only tone when conversing with anyone was that of contempt. Despite her unpleasant disposition, her father and the servants constantly fussed over her, satisfying her every whim.
If this was truly how Mr. Mellark's relations were, then it was no wonder he deliberately chose to distance himself from them.
It was with great relief when they were finally seen through to the dining room, and even more so when Katniss was seated at the end of the table next to Madge. To be spared from having to converse with the other couples was a blessing.
"I do not know what I would have done if I was seated next to Miss Clove," Katniss whispered to Madge as she folded her napkin across her lap. "I fear she would attempt to flay me with her words."
Madge smothered a laugh with the back of her wrist. "I am so very glad you are here tonight. I barely survived the last dinner party when the men spent over two hours debating the value of Sir Snow's overseas tea business. His poor nephew, I must commend him for what he must suffer through with his uncle managing the business."
"His nephew?" Katniss leaned in closer to ask before a footman inquired about her preference for the soup.
The selection from three steaming hot tureens was excessive but nonetheless enticing. One was a nettle soup with cheese and caraway floats, the next a watercress soup garnished with slivers of pheasant, and the last a mushroom soup laced with sour cream and brandy.
"Surprise me," she eventually said to the footman who regarded her with a blank stare before the corner of his lip twitched.
His selection of the watercress soup was simply divine and Katniss could not help but savor the harmonious flavors as they danced along her tongue. Leaning back in towards Madge, Katniss whispered, "The food almost makes up for the man's lack of manners." A loud thump against the table revealed a startled footman as Sir Snow berated him for a fresh set of cutlery. "Then again, perhaps not."
Madge shook her head but smiled. "As we were, I was referring to the eldest nephew. He is away most of the year, voyaging the various trade routes. From what I gathered, tea can be quite a risky business. According to my husband, he is due to return—"
"Ahem," a footman interrupted from behind. "May I present, Mr. Mellark."
The spoon in Katniss's hand froze in midair, her eyes wide.
"Ah, my prodigal nephew returns," said Sir Snow, thumping the table again. "Come, take a seat. Everyone, move down. Darius, make a space by my side for my nephew."
"That will not be necessary," came a cool yet familiar voice. It wasn't possible, coincidences as such did not happen to her.
Swallowing against a sudden lump, Katniss lowered her spoon and turned towards the fuss. With a mix of shock and excitement, her next breath caught in her throat. There he was, ever so handsome and refined—her Mr. Mellark. With his hair of pale gold, clipped shorter than she remembered, and eyes the breathtaking blue of the morning sky.
The moment their gazes connected, those same eyes reflected puzzlement, but only fleetingly. His lips parted, but Sir Snow stole his attention.
"Nonsense, you shall take your rightful place at my side."
"No, thank you, Uncle. I will be quite fine at the end of the table. No need to rearrange on my account." To put an end to the matter, Mr. Mellark nodded to the guests and took up the empty seat across from Katniss.
Still taken aback by his presence, Katniss looked between Mr. Mellark and Sir Snow, who was staring critically in their direction. When settled, Mr. Mellark looked up to find the entire table still staring his way. Once the footman had served his soup, he motioned with his utensils and addressed the table. "Please continue, do not let my presence interrupt your dinner party. Pretend as though I am not here."
Casting an uneasy look at Madge, Katniss carefully picked up her spoon and resumed eating her soup. Pretend as if he was not there? Sitting directly across from her? With an unreadable look about him? It was impossible, for a gentleman like Mr. Mellark could fill an entire room with his presence without saying a single word. The hushed conversation at the head of the table was evident, but she had little desire to know what gossip had sent their tongues wagging.
What a crowded affair this dinner party had unexpectedly become.
Sparing a glance across the table, Katniss found Mr. Mellark still watching her. She should say something, acknowledge him, and give him the respect he was due. But the words would not seem to form. She sat as though perched on the center of the scale, unsure of which way his mood towards her would tip. The illusion was dispelled as soon as he opened his mouth.
"It is a pleasure to see you again, Miss Everdeen." All she could muster was a timid smile and a nod. "You look very well." When his gaze slid from her face to the pendant sitting just below the hollow of her neck, a shiver coursed down her spine. "You look well in whatever you wear but if I dare say, that dress becomes you."
A memory of the sketch Mr. Mellark had done of her in this exact dress flashed through her mind, followed by the pressing guilt and anger for her rash actions. His sketch was a work of art and she had burnt it to ashes to save her pride. Feeling somewhat foolish now for wearing the necklace, she covered the pendant with her hand. What assumptions were going through his mind? Would he believe she wore it out of sentiment? That she had failed to bury her true feelings and was still clinging to his memory like a lovesick schoolgirl?
"Thank you," she managed before her soup was suddenly cleared away and the next course was served. Pity, she had wanted to finish it.
Looking up again, she spotted Mr. Mellark's reserved smile. She wanted to say more, should say more, but her mind had gone blank. Any line of questioning she wished to explore was not appropriate for an audience. When she looked about the table, Mr. Crane caught her attention with a gesture of his head towards their newest guest. Grasping his meaning, Katniss sighed.
"Mr. Mellark, what lovely weather we've had recently." The words sounded feeble to her ears and she winced. Idle chit-chat had never been her strong suit. Combined with all her nervous energy, her attempts at conservation were hopeless.
"Yes, with the clear weather these past few days I was able to make good time from Spring Haven." He continued to regard her, his untouched soup now also cleared away. What a waste. "And how is your family?" he eventually asked.
Finally, a subject she considered safe enough to indulge in. "They are doing quite well, thank you. We all miss Annie a great deal, but we could not be more proud of her happy union with Mr. Odair."
The clinking of glass caused a hush to fall upon the guests. It was Mr. Crane who had stood up from his seat, his goblet raised. "I would like to propose a toast to our most gracious host. What an exotic and decadent meal this is, Sir Snow, and most excellent company."
After they all had raised their glasses in return, Katniss fought back a scowl. As though mollified by the copious praise, Sir Snow responded with a brief nod and then continued his discussion with his Capitol guests. As with most men in his position, it appeared flattery was the way to Sir Snow's approval. And with that thought, Katniss downed half her wine in an expedient gulp.
At least part of Mr. Crane's toast was true. What a decadent meal it was, despite the company. Sweetbreads with béchamel sauce, partridges nestled in herb beds, pigeon pies, roast snipe, and vegetable soufflé laced the air with a cacophony of rich scents. She was thankful to be spared a few moments to enjoy her meal as she observed Mr. Mellark conversing with the lady seated next to him.
The woman was clearly charmed by whatever it was they spoke of, but who wouldn't be? When he wanted, Mr. Mellark had a knack for putting those he spoke with at ease. Whether it was his sincere tone, or well-placed acknowledgment, or perhaps his boyish features when he chuckled. He appeared to be in his element here, surrounded by the Capitol's upper class.
"Miss Everdeen," Sir Snow said, gaining her attention just as she had placed another bite into her mouth. "Do you come from a well-off family? What is your father's profession?"
The succulent morsel suddenly had the texture of sawdust, and it was difficult to swallow. A part of her rationalized that coming from anyone else, it would have been an innocent inquiry. But from the way Sir Snow's mouth formed an insipid smile designed to infuriate, it was obvious he was pleased with how his probing question had taken her off guard. Never before had she felt so extraordinarily uncomfortable. If his goal was to thoroughly embarrass her in front of his guests, he was at a splendid start of it.
"Uncle," came Mr. Mellark's harsh reprimand.
"What? It is a valid question. I merely would like to know whose company we are sharing this evening. Is that really so out of the question?"
"Sir," Mr. Crane interjected no doubt in an attempt to spare her, or rather most likely himself, any embarrassment. "I assure you she is no one of consequence. Her uncle is my distant relative whose estate I shall one day—"
With a flick of his wrist, Sir Snow demanded silence. "I believe I posed my question to Miss Everdeen."
With a steadying breath, Katniss composed herself as best she could. "My father was a gentleman who once managed quite a respectable country estate. After my parent's passing, my sister and I were taken in by my uncle, Mr. Abernathy. He too is a gentleman."
"I would have thought him a merchant. And his income?"
The quiet gasp from Madge had Katniss clenching her fists around her knife and fork. Had he actually asked that of her? The despicable man had overstepped social conventions with his deficient manners and impertinent inquiries. A true gentleman would never submit his dinner guest, let alone an innocent young lady, to such a trial by fire. Why did he loathe her so? What could she have possibly done wrong in a single evening? She had barely spoken to the man, and yet somehow she had managed to garner such disrespect? It was unfathomable.
Katniss glowered as she finally understood what the man was doing, throwing out provocative questions and gleaning the truth from her reactions. If his intention was to intimidate, he was now failing for Katniss's temper was rising with each condescending glance her way. But she would not lower herself to his standards, for it was obvious he wanted her to make a spectacle of herself in front of everyone. She had come to learn firsthand that angry people were not always wise, so it was in her best interest to remain calm.
Katniss slowly set her utensils down and folded her hands in her lap, pinning a defiant stare at Sir Snow. "I am afraid it is not my place to discuss such matters and that your question is one best posed to my uncle himself. If you are truly curious, I would be more than willing to write to him on your behalf. If there is a more appropriate topic that you would wish to discuss, then I would be more than happy to oblige your curiosities. Perhaps our Town's businesses and trades would be of interest?"
She glanced over to Mr. Mellark, who had made a quiet sound of amusement. His attempt to hide a smile was half-hearted and Katniss could not help but feel somewhat emboldened and flattered that he was pleased by her behavior.
"Uncle, I can assure you Miss Everdeen possesses a great deal of common sense. Although she has never hesitated to speak her mind in the past, even she recognizes an attempt to bait her."
"Much to her detriment, I am sure." Looking from Mr. Mellark and back to her, Sir Snow tilted his head. "Enlighten me then, what does a young lady such as you from a quaint little town know of businesses and trade? Beyond fussing over fabrics and ribbons for your next dress."
Katniss dabbed her mouth with her napkin and cleared her throat. "Our town has a very vibrant and active market where coin is not the only currency the vendors and customers use. Knowing the value of a good trade and what people desire can be worth more than coin in certain situations. So to answer your question, I would say I know much about the commerce in our quaint little town."
"Is that so, then what do your keen senses say it is that I desire?"
The table had gone silent, all eyes on her. To feign ignorance on the subject would have been wise, as it was expected of her to comply with decorum. But when posed with such a challenge by a man with whom she had come to detest within a few short hours, how was it possible to hold her tongue? When she looked across to Mr. Mellark, she was surprised to see the mirth and encouragement in his eyes as he too waited for her answer.
"Control," she said matter of fact. "But I regret to inform you, Sir, try as you may, you cannot bend everything and everyone to you will."
The narrowing of Sir Snow's stare was like an icy gust thrust forth in her direction. Then without a word, he slowly rose from his seat, tossed his napkin onto the table, and exited the dining room.
Under different circumstances, the wide eyes and open mouths of the other guests and the complete horror written all over Mr. Crane's face would have sent her into peals of laughter. In truth, she could barely contain the trembles that coursed through her body. It had been a mistake to speak her mind, a complete and utter mistake. But when she once again glanced across the table at Mr. Mellark, there was no mistaking the approval and mirth in his features.
"Excuse my father," Miss Clove eventually said. "Please finish your meals. We will then retire to the drawing room once again to await his return."
"How splendid," Mr. Crane said with a tight-lipped smile. "Miss Clove, would you and Mr. Mellark care to join my wife and me in a round of cards after?"
As though perturbed for now having to entertain their guests on her own, Miss Clove released a heavy exhale but then nodded. The meal ended shortly after and the guests were eager to leave the tension filled dining table for refuge in the drawing room.
It was the perfect time for Katniss to excuse herself to freshen up, or rather get hold of herself before facing the other guests again. She caught a questioning look from Mr. Mellark before retreating from the drawing room but gave him a reassuring smile in return.
It was a miracle she was able to locate the privy on her own, and after splashing her face with cool water, the flush of her cheeks had started to subside. What a disaster! If the evening's events were to make it back to Aunt Effie, she would never hear the end of it. After smoothing back a few loose strands of hair, Katniss inhaled a deep breath and nodded to her reflection in the looking glass. She would make it out of this evening in one piece, one way or another.
On her way back to the drawing room, she took her time to peruse the artwork and tapestries displayed along the hallways, for she was in no hurry to return to the other guests. As she passed a door that had been left ajar, there was a loud thump. Curious, she leaned forward to peer within the crack at the doorway. She had found a library, dimly lit by a fireplace in the back of the room and lanterns along the walls.
"Come in," a harsh voice demanded. Caught off guard, she stumbled further into the room. Seated behind a large desk was Sir Snow. So this was where the man had vanished to. It appeared he was in the middle of reading a rather large book. Motioning to the chair opposite the desk, Sir Snow nodded. "Have a seat."
"I should really be getting back to the—"
"I said, have a seat."
After a fleeting glance back to the open door, she steadied herself and with as much confidence as she could muster, came to a stop in front of the desk. However, she did not sit, preferring to stand and look down on Sir Snow as the only sign of defiance she could easily muster.
Sir Snow regarded her for a tortuous moment, as though he expected her to initiate the conservation. A part of her felt that to say anything was a trap, so she remained quiet until he eventually cleared his throat.
"Miss Everdeen, as I'm sure you have come to surmise from our interactions thus far, I am a straightforward sort of man. Honesty is a luxury I believe we are all deserving of. So you see, it is in both our interest that we do not lie to one another, would you agree?"
Unsure if a man like him could ever be trusted, she eventually nodded. "Yes, I believe us all deserving of the truth."
"I have a problem, Miss Everdeen. A problem that began the moment my vagrant nephew showed up on my doorstep a few months back." His pointed stare left her feeling as though she knew what it was he spoke of. With a heavy sigh, he pursed his lips. "Very well, straight to the point then, has my nephew made you an offer of marriage?"
Stunned, Katniss stared back at the man with her mouth agape. It took a moment to return to her senses, but when she did she struggled to control her rising temper. "Sir, I beg your pardon?"
"Did I not make myself clear? I asked you if my nephew has made you an offer of marriage."
Katniss' lips formed a tight line as frustration from the offensive and blunt question. "No, Sir, I can assure you he has not. Especially when I was under the impression that he was otherwise already engaged."
Sir Snow regarded her with steepled fingers. "It seems we are in agreement, as I too believed my nephew would stay true to his obligations." Katniss narrowed her eyes. "From your reaction, it would seem he did not inform you of his previous arrangement with my daughter?"
"Your—your daughter?"
"Why, yes, their betrothal has been planned since their infancy. A union that would secure the hard work and success of this family—within the family. That was, until recently."
Katniss held her breath, waiting for him to continue.
"It is true, it was not but a month ago that my nephew returned. After not a word from him in years, can you guess how he greeted us? By breaching the betrothal and breaking my poor daughter's heart. Now, I had my suspicions but perhaps you can enlighten me on a certain matter. What could have changed in the past few months that would cause him to do such a thing? Have you any thoughts?"
Katniss remained silent, torn between elation and guilt that Mr. Mellark was no longer engaged. Was it truly all because of her that a poor girl's reputation had been ruined? Perhaps Miss Clove was justified in her bitter mood.
"Miss Everdeen?" Sir Snow watched her face a moment longer but frowned when she did not answer. "I did not think so." He rose to his feet and readjusted the white bloom at his lapel. "I must admit though, after meeting you this evening, I can see how he came to be infatuated. The boy always did favor to play with fire, and you, Miss Everdeen, are not lacking in that regard. But mark my words—I intend to remedy this situation and if you are the spark that threatens to destroy my nephew and this family's good name, I can assure you consequences will be met. An inferior match with someone of such low standing would be more than a disappointment."
Oh, the irony! To pin all his misfortunes on her when the fault lay squarely on his own shoulders for tainting his family name with his own actions?
Katniss met his stare with as much defiance as she could muster, her fury from being so openly insulted causing her to clench her fists at her sides to keep from grabbing the man by the shirt and shaking him. Instead, she leaned in across the desk and looked him straight in the eye. With a measured tone, she replied, "He is a gentleman and I am a gentleman's daughter. As far as I am concerned, we are equals."
"I admire your spirit. 'Aim higher in case you fall short' I always say, however in your instance, I would recommend you cease your fruitless pursuit. Now, do you swear never to enter into an engagement with him?"
Katniss's mouth hung open. Was it possible to be further insulted? Apparently so. She took a step back and clenched the skirt of her dress in her fists. "Sir, we are done here and therefore have nothing more to discuss. Good evening."
Before she turned her back on him, she saw his eyes flash with outrage, narrowing to evil slits. The serpent was livid and she did not want to be present when he inevitably struck.
The feel of his threatening gaze was on her back as she hurried out of the library and slammed the door with more force than anticipated. Once in the safety of the hallway, Katniss's hand drew into a fist against her midriff, and she struggled to catch up with her own breathing. How much more was she expected to take? Was this evening to never end?
As she slipped back into the drawing room, her eyes could not avoid those of Mr. Mellark who sought her out immediately. With worry lines etched upon his handsome face, she watched as he excused himself from his conservation with Mr. Crane and came to stand before her.
"Miss Everdeen, are you alright?" When she did not make to form a reply, his lips thinned. "Come then, let us take some air on the balcony." With her approving nod, he guided her through the drawing room with a hand at the small of her back. It remained there, a firm yet reassuring support that she desperately needed.
It was a beautiful, clear night. There was a slight breeze, but it was still quite temperate for the start of September. Although the balcony was lit with the glow of torches, the full moon sat high in the sky, illuminating the vast gardens beyond with its light. If only her body was not still trembling with contained fury, even she would admit the dreamy atmosphere was pulled straight from the pages of one of Portia's romantic novels.
She leaned against the ornate railing, surprised that Mr. Mellark still had not removed his hand. Rather, he settled his fingers more securely around her waist, and she looked up at him. "I am fine," she replied, unable to hide the waver in her voice.
With an almost apologetic smile, she felt his thumb move ever so slightly against her side. "Your lips say one thing, but your eyes…" The way he gazed at her started a new sensation to spread throughout her body, gradually replacing the anger with a deep longing. "Always so full of fire," he whispered.
Clearing her throat, Katniss looked back out onto the moonlight gardens below. "A trait most would deem unfitting for a young lady."
Her cheeks heated at Mr. Mellark's quiet chuckle. "Most, but not all."
They shared a peculiar moment, both studying one another as though in a new light. The way the moonshine highlighted the waves of hair over his forehead made the natural ashy blond color appear almost white. His direct gaze caused a shiver to travel down her spine.
"Are you chilled?" he asked, but she shook her head.
They stood quiet, still regarding each other as his thumb continued to trace a long, slow arc against her waist. With each soothing stroke, she felt the tension drain from her shoulders. This spell of serenity that he cast, it was no wonder her body and soul fought so fiercely against her foolish pride. Certain unanswered questions still threatened to filter through her blissful haze, but she shut them out for now. Her craving for comfort was too great.
As if sensing she was once again ready to talk, the motion of his thumb halted. "Will you be staying at the parsonage long?"
"Only a few more days, then I shall return to Seamfirth. Mr. and Mrs. Heavensbee have graciously offered to accompany me on my journey home."
"That is very kind of them."
"And yourself?" she asked in return. "How long will you be staying here at Rosings?"
"I have no intention of staying here, but rather my apartment in the Capitol. I have business to attend to but will then be departing tomorrow afternoon."
With his visit so short, it truly was a stroke of luck that their paths crossed at all this evening. As she surveyed his tight smile, the words that had threatened to spill forth onto the pages of countless unfinished letters finally broke through.
"I have a confession," she started, turning to face him. "When we spoke at dinner, I was certain our encounter would be met with tolerated and cold civility. What I did not expect was your warm greeting or your smiles or the way you defended me against your uncle. It unnerved me but I am ever so thankful to you. How we last parted ways—it is a moment that still haunts me, one I think back on with infinite pain and regret. I should not have lashed out at you as I did. Looking back now, I realize I was unfair. And so I ask for your forgiveness. Please."
Spurred on by the passion behind her feelings of guilt and regret and yearning, she could not help herself as she broke from decorum and took hold of both his hands. The first touch sent an unexpected streak of fire across her skin and she dropped them with a sharp intake of breath. Searching his gaze, she reached for him again, folding her fingers around his. This time, they were exceptionally warm, the calluses on his fingertips a surprising comfort.
"Please," she repeated, squeezing his fingers tighter.
He stared at their embraced hands for what seemed like hours, his brow taut and lowered, but he did not remove them. Nor did he speak. She studied his solemn face, hauntingly beautiful even when his features were so severe. Had she never noticed before that his lashes, which were unfairly long for a man, were several shades lighter than his hair? How did they not get tangled up when he blinked?
Blinking herself from her daze, she realized he still had not answered. If she had to beg him to accept her apology, then so be it.
"Please," she said again, pleading with her entire being.
When he finally met her gaze, there was a pensive look in his blue eyes. "Miss Everdeen, I too have a confession. There is something I must explain. Do you recall the day you departed from Seaforth Park after collecting your cousin when she was ill this past summer?" Katniss nodded, recalling the day quite well. "Do you remember when I…excused myself in a rush from breakfast that morning?"
No, she was not ready for this. Not yet. Unease began to spread throughout her stomach, its tendrils of hurt and embarrassment threatening to strangle out her short-lived pleasure. But it was inevitable, this conversation was slated to happen eventually, whether she liked it or not.
"Yes," she said with a careful nod. "I assumed it was from something you read in the newspaper?"
"Yes, it was…most troubling news."
"Troubling?" Katniss shook her head and released her hold on him.
No matter how much she wanted to rise above her past hurt and believe she could overlook his betrayal, she could not. It was an old wound, one that had not had the opportunity to heal properly.
With a measured breath, she forced a calmness to her words. "One would think the announcement of one's engagement would be met with excitement, rather than—"
"You are gravely mistaken," he interrupted, a sudden edge to his voice. "I am not engaged. Nor have I ever been engaged."
Taken aback by the force of his words, she paused. He was never engaged? Could it be true? The contradiction between his words and that of Sir Snow caused doubt to take root in her mind. From the hard-set look in his eyes, she was compelled to believe him. The unsettled part of her mind and the ache in her heart would not be at ease until she heard his truth. There had to be an explanation.
"Are you sure?" she finally asked. "It seems most of society, including your uncle, as well as the papers," she stressed, "seemed to believe you were."
"All lies," he said, his voice low and marked with anger.
"Then tell me the truth…your truth. Is your engagement real?"
"No, it is not real. It never was." He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. "According to the announcement, the engagement was to my cousin, Miss Clove. I swear to you that I entered into no such agreement, therefore I can hardly be held responsible for any repercussions that might befall her."
"I see," she said slowly.
"I have done nothing wrong." He shot her a withering look. His frustration was palpable, rolling off him in waves as his hands formed fists at his sides. "Is that what kept you after dinner? What did my Uncle say to you?"
Unsure of how to answer, she pressed her lips tight together as she tried to sort through her thoughts. He gave her a long, hard look as he eyed her unsurely.
When she had been silent for too long, he leaned in closer. "Whatever it is he said, I can assure you the issue has been taken care of and all the appropriate parties have been dealt with."
Katniss balked. "Well, that sounds reassuring, if not rather ominous."
"The public announcement in the paper was the sole work of my Uncle, his personal form of revenge for dismissing him from the milling company that he took no hand in restoring. It was his desperate attempt to weasel his way back into the family business, so to speak, through the connection of marriage. As hard as he may try, I refuse to become a piece in his game."
"I want to believe you," she said truthfully, but still conflicted. "But if you say you are a gentleman, then have you no reservation for ruining a young lady's reputation?"
Mr. Mellark surprised her with a cold laugh. "When it comes to my cousin's reputation, I am the least of the stains on her tarnished past. My only regret is how my family's turmoil has affected you. How it has affected us. I tried my hardest to keep you from this farce, but it seems my efforts were in vain. My Uncle's quarrel is with me, not with you, and for that, I must apologize." He took a step closer, reaching a hand out as if to take hold of hers, but then hesitated. "You must believe me, I never meant to hurt you."
Taking a step back, Katniss placed a hand on her stomach and inhaled a deep breath. "I…I so desperately want to believe you. However, although you may not have feelings for Miss Clove, how can you attest to your cousin's feelings on the matter? How is she to fare from this scandal? What of her affections towards you?"
"I can assure you, my cousin holds not an ounce of feeling towards me. Her affections lie elsewhere." He looked as if he wanted to reveal more, but with a purse of his lips, he turned away with his hands behind his back as he paced before her.
As if suddenly resolved to his internal struggles, he stopped to face her. And this time he did not hesitate to reach out and take hold of her hands. In a heartbeat, the anger fled his face, only to be replaced by an intense sadness. It was almost too much to take.
"Miss Everdeen, please. I know our…our acquaintance did not start under the best of circumstances. Much has happened between us, and I fear there is more to come that will threaten our…our friendship. It seems as though fate has seen to it that our lives be intertwined. Please, I beg of you to trust me—"
Before he could say more, the butler appeared on the balcony and bowed. "I regret to inform you that Sir Snow has taken his leave for the evening and bids his guests all a good night."
With a frown, Katniss peered into the drawing room and searched the faces of the other guests. None appeared disgruntled by the sudden and cold notice. Perhaps for an arrogant man such as Sir Snow, it was commonplace to forgo manners and retire amid his own dinner party.
Unperturbed by their sudden dismissal, Mr. Mellark released her hands and looked upon her with earnest eyes. "Miss Everdeen. If you would but grant me the opportunity to further explain myself, I am hopeful we can clear any lingering misunderstandings between us."
She spotted Mr. Crane collecting his wife and knew he would be coming for her next. Knowing their time together was coming to a close, Mr. Mellark pinned her with another solemn look.
"Would it be possible for me to call upon you tomorrow morning at the parsonage?" he asked, his voice urgent.
Katniss hesitated for a moment, but with a dip of her chin agreed. "Until tomorrow then. Good evening, Mr. Mellark."
With a tentative smile, Katniss curtsied and took her leave, sparing only the briefest of glances over her shoulder. His hopeful smile caused her heart to flutter to life, as though the past months of bitterness and misery were now nothing but a distant memory. Was she a fool to trust him? If only her head and her heart were in agreement.
Throughout breakfast, Katniss was not herself, near bursting with nerves. She had almost knocked over the teapot twice as she stared at nothing in particular, trying to sort through a tangle of emotions. To be in such a state was off-putting. One moment filled with frustration, the next longing, and then the next a peculiar eagerness.
Upon returning to the parsonage after the disaster at Rosings—for there were no other words to describe that debacle they called a dinner party—Mr. Crane had ushered them all to bed, leaving no time for Katniss to share with Madge what had transpired throughout the evening.
Alone with her thoughts, she had replayed the events over and over in her mind. If the fervor of Mr. Mellark's revelations had not been proof enough, the confirmation from Sir Snow left no doubt in her mind that Mr. Mellark was being truthful. She believed him, that he had been forced into an unfortunate position, caught in his dreadful uncle's web of deceit and greed.
Although the truth had finally been revealed, it left her in a state of restlessness. The past hurt that surfaced from their conversation could not be ignored, but it cast a new light on their situation. Was there a path forward for them?
Mr. Crane eventually suggested she lay down for a spell after breakfast. Having apologized for her carelessness, she admitted she had not slept well, which was in fact the truth. Madge had looked on with curious glances throughout the meal but had kept her thoughts to herself.
Katniss was thankful when Mr. Crane insisted she stay back to rest as he and Madge called upon a member of the local congregation. With the quiet cottage to herself, all she could do was listen to the tick-tock-tick-tock of the clock on the fireplace and the crackle of the fire. Even the softest of sounds became amplified to her ears, so when the hard knock on the front door finally echoed throughout the cottage, Katniss jumped. Straightening her skirts, she released a deep sigh.
It did not prepare her though for when she opened the door. There stood Mr. Mellark, and it caused the breath to leave her lungs completely. Dressed in a dark charcoal coat of fine wool that set off his golden coloring so pleasantly, a dark green waistcoat of heavy silk, and a linen shirt that looked butter-soft to the touch—she could not help but stare at him.
When he finally stepped through the doorway, his presence seemed to take up the entire hallway, crowding her in an oddly pleasant way. They were both silent, regarding each other as though taking in every detail.
"Miss Everdeen," he finally spoke, the rough hue of his voice sending shivers down her arms. "Thank you for seeing me this morning." His head tilted as if searching the space behind her. "Are Mr. and Mrs. Crane in?"
"No, they left for the parish not long ago."
His eyes found hers and he drew silent once again. If she had not been studying the smooth curves of his face, she would have missed the slight clenching of his jaw. Was he nervous?
"If you are not comfortable being alone with me, I understand. I can return later when—"
"No!" she shouted, suddenly realizing that he was turning back to the doorway. Without thought, she reached for his arm to pull him closer, but then dropped her hand and repeated more softly. "No, please stay." Her face now fully heated, she turned from his piercing stare and forced her feet to finally move down the hall.
She was thankful when she heard the door shut behind her and his heavy footsteps following. Once in the parlor, she shut the door behind them.
"Can I offer you some tea?" she asked, but then stumbled over the corner of the rug. Thankfully she caught herself on the back of the nearest chair. She was already making an absolute fool of herself, no wonder the man was staring at her as though she'd sprouted a second head.
"No, but thank you."
"Oh," she said, unsure of what to do now with her idle hands. She settled into the armchair, smoothing down her dress as she waited for him to follow suit. When he did not, she looked up to find him still watching her from across the room.
Was it silly of her to wear her favorite dark green dress for the occasion? Perhaps, but based on his slow perusal as Mr. Mellark took her in from head to foot, it had proven to be an effective choice.
Unsure of why he was still so far away, she arched an eyebrow. Although his posture was rigid and his hands clasped behind his back, the stiffness in his stature from the evening before was noticeably absent. "Would you care to take a seat?"
As if waking from a dream, he dipped his head. "Yes, of course," he muttered and finally sat down in the armchair across from her. Seeing him in such a manner eased some of the nervousness from her shoulders and she smiled in hopes of setting him at ease as well.
He returned her smile with one of his own and then settled further back into the armchair. "How have you all been?"
"Since last night?" she asked with a laugh. "I regretfully have nothing new to report. The carriage ride home was quite uneventful unless you consider Mr. Crane's musing on your uncle's fine china of interest."
The rumble of Mr. Mellark's amusement was a pleasant sound, one she wished to hear again. And when he smiled as such? So freely? The softness it brought to his face made it seem almost angelic, quite the contrast from the first time they had met.
"I was referring to your family. I hope they are doing well?"
"Oh, yes, they are all quite well. My cousin and Mr. Odair are currently visiting the Capitol. Have you had the pleasure of seeing them since?"
"I must admit, I have only met with Mr. Odair since his return. I did not think it appropriate to meet with them both. I sought to adhere to your wishes and so I made sure to keep a respectable distance from your cousin." His face suddenly turned serious, his brow furrowing as he began to slide his hands back and forth against each other. "However, staying true to your request has proven to be the hardest undertaking I have ever faced."
"Oh?" was all she could manage as her own hands formed into fists in her lap.
"Yes, keeping away from you has been sheer agony. I could not fight this longing deep in my soul to see you again. So I chose to break my promise and came to the wedding in secret. Not even Mr. Odair knew of my plans. But when I finally saw you? In the arms of Colonel Hawthorne as you circled the dancefloor? A madness I did not know existed within me broke loose, but there was nothing I could do about it. I only had myself to blame, for it was I who sent him there. And so I left, unable to bring myself to what I had come to do. I loathe myself because I had become exactly what you accused me of that day we parted. I was a coward."
"No," she said in earnest. "You are not a coward, or a liar, or a fraud. I was wrong to accuse you as such, so very wrong."
"Oh but I am all you said. I became that coward when I allowed others to dictate my actions, against my better judgment. And I became that liar when I convinced myself that we were finished. And I became that fraud, attempting to live my life as though you were never a part of it. But it was all for naught because here I am, at your mercy as I ask for your forgiveness once again."
In an instant he was on his knees before her, taking her hands in a firm hold, his eyes full of misery and what she believed regret.
"But, your note…the one you left at the wedding. You said to wait for you." She could not keep the tremble from her voice. "You did not write again, I did not know what to think."
The furrow between his brows took her by surprise. "You found my note?" he asked with disbelief in his voice.
"Yes, of course. I was certain I had seen you while dancing with Colonel Hawthorne but I thought it was my mind playing a cruel trick. When I chased after you and I could find no trace of your presence, I truly began to question my sanity. But then I saw the dandelion."
"You chased after me?" Her cheeks heated, but she nodded. "I am so sorry. Had I known you had found it? Then of course I would have written sooner. I wanted to write to you after the wedding, but it was my wounded pride that kept me from it. I let myself believe you had moved on and had truly forgotten me. But it was Mr. Odair who encouraged me to stay the course, to not let such things get in the way of making amends. To once again seek you out in hopes of gaining your trust."
Inching forward, the wide expanse of his middle pressed tight against her legs and her eyes widened. "Please," he whispered. "Put me out of my misery. With a single word, you can silence me forever. I will no longer try to make room for myself in your world, regardless if our lives are fated to be forever entwined. I will leave here today and respect your wishes as you had originally intended. What say you, Miss Everdeen?"
After everything they had gone through to get where they were now, did he truly think that she would send him away? The long pause that followed had his grip tightening and she decided then and there to finally put them both out of their misery.
"Katniss," she finally whispered back. "Please call me by my name."
"Katniss," he repeated, almost reverently as he let his eyes fall shut.
Why must he say her name as such, as though the two syllables were like drops of warm honey on his tongue? When he finally opened his eyes again, they bore into her soul, blue and heated. A protest was on her lips when he released her hands, but when he slowly lifted his to caress her face, her worry was silenced. She could not help but lean into them and her hands too rose on their own accord to hold his in place.
"Is that your answer then?" he asked.
Unable to form words, all she could manage was a nod. His nearness soothed her to no end, a stark contrast to the heat of where his bare skin pressed against hers, like a brand seared into her very being. It grew to an almost unbearable inferno that made her body shudder. His slow-burning smile only made the aching in her body worse. Did he know the effect he had on her? Did he know how much he consumed her?
"How long will you be touring the countryside with the Heavensbees?" he asked quietly, his thumbs gently stroking against her cheeks as his eyes drifted back and forth between hers and her lips.
"Hmm?" How could she possibly think straight when he looked at her as such? As though the world around them did not exist, except for the space they occupied and the air they breathed.
She reveled in the low timbre of his laugh and could not help but smile herself. But her breath caught when one of his thumbs drifted too close to her mouth, tracing the corner with infinite precision.
Voices from the hallway infiltrated the parlor door and Katniss could not hold back her frustration as the outside world came crashing back into their own. He pulled away all too quickly and in the next moment was on his feet. With the early return of Mr. Crane and Madge, their time had been cut short, their privacy gone. There was still much to discuss. So much. They had just begun to scratch the surface of what this meant.
"Miss Ever—that is…Katniss." Matching her frustration, Mr. Mellark ran a hand through his hair. "We are not done here. I still have much to say but…" He looked to the parlor door and frowned. "Would you permit me to continue with our correspondence from before?"
"Yes, of course. I would like nothing more." His answering smile was sincere but brief, and in the next moment, the serious mask she had learnt he wore for the rest of the world settled back into place.
"I thank you. Until our paths cross next, may you keep well and I wish you safe travels." After a deep bow, he made a swift departure from the parlor. Hushed murmurs from the hallway meant a brief interaction with Mr. Crane, but not a moment later Madge rushed into the parlor and shut the door behind her.
Katniss could not help but laugh at her friend's shocked expression, which slowly turned into a bemused grin. "Mr. Mellark left in quite a flourish. From the besotted look upon your face, I believe we have much to discuss."
"What?" she asked, her cheeks heating with a touch of embarrassment.
"My dear, do you think me blind?" Madge reached out to grasp Katniss's folded hands. "As determined as he may be to hide it, I know in my heart that man has a deep affection for you as well."
"Madge," Katniss started, looking away towards the window. "How are you so confident of that?"
"There may not be love in my own marriage, but that does not mean I am oblivious to the relationships of those around me. It is in the way his gaze lingers longer than it should, how whenever you are in the room it is you who has his full attention. How with every word you speak, you captivate him. His feelings for you are manifested in his mannerisms. How his hands constantly flex as though he is wrestling with himself not to reach out and take you in his arms. So you see? If he has not yet confessed his love for you in words, his actions speak otherwise."
Katniss blushed harder but remained silent, allowing her heart to revel in the possible truth of it.
"Now," Madge continued, "tell me everything."
The day had come, when the Heavensbee's arrival was marked by her trunks once again packed and waiting to be loaded onto the approaching carriage. A basket heavily laden with an assortment of breads, cheeses, and fruit for the journey was a much-appreciated gesture, including the collection of reading material supplied by Mr. Crane, as mundane as the selection of the books were.
"I shall miss you fiercely," Katniss said, reluctant to release her dear friend from her embrace. "And thank you for everything." Their visit had been too short and so the two had agreed another visit would do them both well in the spring.
"And I shall miss you dearly." As Madge pulled away, she slipped a folded parchment into Katniss's hand. "This came for you this morning," she whispered. "But I did not want to draw my husband's attention to the matter."
Without looking, the letter was discreetly placed into her pocket and a fluttering threatened to overtake her stomach. With a final squeeze and a knowing smile, Katniss was released.
Turning to Mr. Crane, she bowed her head. "Thank you for your kind hospitality."
"Safe travels, Miss Everdeen. My regards to the family!"
With a final nod to her hosts, Katniss approached the carriage.
"Miss Everdeen!" Mr. Heavensbee shouted as he opened the door wide and waved to Mr. Crane to begin loading her trunks. "What a pleasure to see you again. What luck that we happen to be traveling this way and that our paths could cross again so soon. Are you ready?"
"Yes, and I couldn't agree more, what a happy coincidence it is. Thank you again for allowing me to accompany you on your journey. I do look forward to seeing more of the countryside. I hear the trees are lovely this time of year."
After the last of her trunks were secured, she looked back to her hosts and the couple waved as Mr. Heavensbee helped Katniss into the carriage. As she settled herself across from Mrs. Heavensbee, she was greeted with a warm smile. "It is so good to see you again, my dear."
The carriage jerked forward and off they were. Katniss tried to listen as well as she could as Mr. Heavensbee regaled her with the latest Capitol gossip while his wife looked on, correcting or admonishing him as needed as the man tended to take off on a tangent unexpectedly or exaggerate the finer details. But all the while the letter in her coat pocket rubbed against her fingers.
A while later, once the steady rocking of the carriage finally coaxed her travelling companions to sleep, she carefully removed the letter and stared at it. A part of her longed to tear into it as quick as possible, while part of her was hesitant. What words would she find? Did he regret his decision to rekindle their correspondence?
With a deep breath, she broke the wax seal embedded with his initials and carefully unfolded the letter. Have courage, she thought as she tried to steady her trembling hands. Whatever his words, she would survive.
My dearest Katniss,
First, thank you for allowing me to continue our correspondence, for I have missed receiving your letters more than you will ever know.
Second, I must confess to you that my presence at Rosings was not a coincidence. I came with the single objective of seeing you. As I have already confessed, staying away from you is futile for I cannot help but be near you. I hope my actions and the recent revelations between us have not further tainted your opinion of me.
Once I believed myself a sensible man, but I am no longer such. What have you done to me? The world I once knew has been overturned, but I do not wish for it to be righted, not ever again. You have forever changed me, and for that I am grateful.
I am not a jealous man by nature, but since meeting you, I find the potential of any other seeking your affection utterly unbearable. But what right or claim do I have on you? On your heart? Your soul? Alas, I have none, and at times I find I am driven to madness at the thought. For that is what I desire most. You, Katniss…all of you. Mind. Body. And soul.
To have you near me once again, I struggle with my desire to keep you all to myself, locked away from the world where I can protect you. But deep down in my heart I know that is not right. For you, my dear sweet one, life as such is not for you. You are a free spirit and to hold you back would be a sin.
You asked my forgiveness at Rosings, but you see, you needn't ask for I forgave you the moment I saw you again. I would never ask for you to overlook my transgressions, but at least allow me to make amends. Now and for always.
Please, write to me, for I long to read your words and know your thoughts. Any and all correspondence sent by you to Spring Haven will find its way to me, I guarantee it.
Eternally yours,
Peeta
Author's Note: Wow, that chapter was a doozy to write! Hope you enjoyed all the Everlark moments in this extra long chapter, even if Katniss's hesitancy and flip-flopping emotions are a little frustrating at times but hey, baby girl still feels wounded but they're pretty much on the same page now :D As for the naming of Snow's estate and keeping it the same as it is in Pride and Prejudice, how could Rosings not be the perfect name! I had to keep it!
Thank you to those who continue to read and support this fic, feedback and comments mean the world to me and motivate me to keep going! So I'd love to hear what you thought about this chapter.
My heartfelt thanks to both Louezem and deinde-prandium for pre-reading and for their sage advice on when scenes needed further clarity and of course catching all of my silly mistakes, you ladies rock! Any mistakes you still find are all on me, whoops!
Fun Facts from Jane Austen's Time:
- Interior design during the Regency era was influenced by a range of styles including Egyptian, Greek, Roman, and Indian elements, and fabrics were heavily used throughout a room, from drapes to pillows to upholstery and of course patterned rugs. Furniture was made of mahogany (of course) and rosewood and brass inlays replaced gold plating for accents. Fire was still the main source of light so candles were in abundance along with oil lamps and of course fireplaces in most rooms.
- Regency dinner parties were quite the affair with several courses and lots of options per course. The seating plan was based according to rank and married couples took precedence over single ladies and gentlemen, which is why Katniss is of course at the end of the table being of the lowest rank and single. Normally the host and hostess would each take an end of the table, but Sir Snow of course takes the head spot, and instead of having his daughter on the opposite end of the table as a dutiful hostess, he places her by his side instead. Rude!
- As for appropriate table conversations during a dinner party, even by today's standards Sir Snow is the worst host. It was up to the host to steer the conservation and if a subject got too heavy or heated, it was their duty to change the subject, especially if it made any of their guests uncomfortable.
As always, come visit me on tumblr: pookieh
