A/N: i haven't updated this one for the longest time, but here it is. for OQ prompt party, wednesday: "I just want to see you smile" (114).
III
When the letter arrives, that morning, it's mayhem.
Their parents are losing their mind after a piece of paper – no matter how important are the words on said piece of paper, Robin cannot for the life of him find that much significance into a simple invitation.
And yet, not even David can maintain his usual calm as he reads it over and over. "I knew he was a good man," he says, satisfied, as he reads the letter once again.
"Who's a good man?" Emma asks, entering the room. Her dress is dirty – evidently, she's been riding one of their horses again, and she can never remember to change into a riding dress or pants.
"Daniel Blanchard invited him for a late breakfast," Robin answers, bored. He's happy for David – that Blanchard girl has clearly taken a shine to him, and her brother inviting David can only mean good things, but he cannot stop thinking about another set of eyes. Brown eyes. And he has thought about that woman since the ball, and – well it's a shame she's so arrogant, he thinks.
"So you'll go to see the Blanchards?" Emma asks, ecstatic. "Can I come?"
"Absolutely not," their father interrupts, walking inside the kitchen. "He'll go by horse."
"But it's about to rain," Robin argues. "Or there's a storm coming. Even the dog just came inside."
"That's alright, son," George says. "Your brother will be alright. A bit of rain never hurt a soul."
°.°
When David doesn't come home, that afternoon, he doesn't think much about it. His father keeps looking outside the window, all satisfied, as cascades of water pour down from the skies. And – as it was to be expected, another letter comes, and it's David, saying that he fell from the horse – spooked by a thunder – and he has sprained his ankle, and they found him near the estate and he's fine, really, there is no need to worry.
So of course Robin has to go.
The walk is only some miles long, and he loves walking, that's not an issue. But David – he can only imagine how embarrassed he must feel, David who doesn't like to be seen in pain even if it's just his brother, and being in the house of strangers must be… horrible.
When he arrives, he is promptly introduced by a valet, and they're all there – Mr Blanchard, Miss Blanchard and Miss Mills, having breakfast. He bows his head, and sees them get up and greet him. Daniel is pleasant and kind, and Mary is just enough worried to make him notice how much she has been scared by David's ordeal. But Regina is cold as always, detached, as she politely welcomes him and tells him he can stay for as long as he pleases, until his brother has recovered.
Robin is confused.
She has never spoken to him for so long, and she has yet to crack a smile. He is starting to wonder if this woman can smile at all.
°.°
They lead him to David's bedroom, where is ankle has been propped up with a pillow, and he's looking outside the window.
"Hello," he tells him, and David turns, flashing him a smile.
"There was no reason to come all the way here, I'm fine," he protests. "I knew this was going to happen. That horse has always been scared of storms."
"Well, it could have gone worse. You could have hit your head," he reasons, sitting on the edge of the bed. "And father would have lost his golden child," he smiles.
"There's always you keeping up the spirits, brother," David answers. "Honestly. They've been so kind to me, and Miss Blanchard is an amazing hostess. She had them bring me breakfast in bed, you know."
"I… I see," Robin chuckles, thinking how is it possible that two souls that are so similar ended up meeting in the best of circumstances. For a moment, he envies his brother's luck. "And I'm glad you're enjoying your stay. What did the doctor say?"
He chats with David for a while, and then his brother asks him to please let him rest. Robin knows he got himself a cold, from all the riding under the storm, so he leaves him be, closing the door behind him. And when he turns, there's none other than Regina Mills staring at him.
°.°
"Miss Mills," he bows, that infuriating smirk back in place.
"Mr Locksley," she answers, trying to sound polite even though after the ball, the first thing she'd like to do would be to slap him. "Is your brother alright?"
"Yes, thank you," he says. "I trust that him being here is not too much of an inconvenience?"
"Not at all," she murmurs. Her mind is already desperately searching for a way to escape this situation, but his eyes keep drawing her gaze back to him, and her heart accelerates, and no – this is not good. She presses two fingers on the inside of her wrist, trying to hide the gesture, counting her beats and trying to calm down, because her brain has been spiraling since her aunt Cora's letter this morning, and…
"Are you alright, Miss Mills?" he tilts his head, as if he was trying to read her in some way. But she is not, and she won't have him know that – all she needs is fresh air, and –
"I need to breathe," she lets out, maybe she's not been polite, but she'd hate to make a scene in front of him. She passes him quickly, going for the nearest balcony, and unlocks the door with shaky fingers and finally, inhales the cool air of midday.
Much to her disdain, after a few deep breaths she realizes he has followed her.
"Lovely day, isn't it?" he asks, his voice low. "I've always hated the kind of stale air in the corridors of houses like this. The halls are fine, but the corridors are just suffocating."
He's offering her a way out, she knows it. Her cheeks heat up, because he must know, how she was taken by that wave of –
"It certainly is a lovely day," she answers, mechanically. "I was told you came here by foot."
"I like to walk," he tells her, easily. How he's always so open and relaxed with any kind of person, she doesn't understand. "More than I like to ride, I'm afraid."
"I love to ride," she says, doesn't realize she gave him a little piece of that information she's been so jealous of. Until she sees that he's looking at her with awe, and she feels compelled to add, "I… I find it calming. I've always liked horses, and… they're connected to so many happy memories."
"Oh are they? Tell me more, please," he asks, leaning against the balcony rail. "Since I'm not that fond of horses like you are, I'd like to hear what you love about them."
She breathes, eyes fixated on the trees of the park instead of on him. "I just… I used to go with my father, and… I just like the feeling of when I ride, of the wind in my hair and the speed. The danger, maybe, but mostly the freedom – knowing that when I'm out there with my horse, I'm not Regina of Pemberley, or the heiress, or the woman half the country wants to marry just for her riches. I'm… just Regina."
Her hands curl around the balcony rail as she finally looks at him, realizing with horror that she said too much, and how could she think it would be alright, telling him all of that? Now he surely will…
"That sounds quite wonderful, milady," he murmurs. "Thank you for entrusting me with such a story. I really like the idea of freedom you just told me about… But now, though, I'd like to wager a bet with you."
"A bet?" she repeats, confused.
"A horseback ride, when the sky will clear out," he proposes, smiling. "If you win, I'll forgive you for what you said at the ball."
She doesn't mean to, but she finds herself staring at him, a corner of her lips lifting up – because she thought he was boring and dull, but it turns out he's got a sense of humor.
"There are high chances of seeing me win, I must warn you," she tells him. "What happens if you win?"
At this point, his smile grows even more, and he bites his lip. "Well if I win, milady, what I ask is really simple. I just want to see you smile."
Her eyebrow raises, and she has to fight against herself not to smile right now, and ruin all of his carefully constructed charade. "Well then, Mr Locksley. I'll see you tomorrow at dawn."
And without another word, she leaves him there.
