His words shocked her. Eyes wide, Gwen sat up slowly, resting her weight on one arm as she looked down at him. His fingers still played with the ends of her hair and she resisted the urge to shiver. "Five," she breathed, unable to believe what he was saying, "it's a lifetime commitment." He raised one eyebrow, silently questioning the relevance of her statement. Which, of course, only served to annoy her. "Do you have any idea what settling an agreement between us would even mean?"
"It means that we agree to date until we're old enough to get engaged," Five replied smugly, the spark of mischief in his eyes enhanced by the small smirk on his lips, "after which you and your mom, with interference from your overbearing grandmother should she live long enough, spend a year or so planning our wedding." He lifted the hand still resting on his chest to his mouth, kissing her palm and then her wrist before looking up at her again. "Did I get it right?"
Gwen pulled farther away from him, frustrated with how easily she warmed up to his words. "We are so young, Five," she whispered, "We just turned fourteen."
"Doesn't seem to be stopping your grandparents from making an agreement with the Carmines." He did not like how reluctant she seemed, almost as though she was considering a future without him in it. He sat up, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed so his back was turned to her. He refused to look at her as she rejected him.
"They expect a marriage, happiness and faithfulness are not required," Gwen replied, unsure of whether or not to get closer to him, "and I want to be in a happy, faithful relationship with you." Despite knowing that thinking clearly would fly out the window the moment she touched him, Gwen scooted closer to him, resting her chin on his shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him, hands coming to rest over his sternum, where she traced invisible patterns with her fingers. "How can we know for sure that we will be happy, faithful, for the rest of our lives?"
Relaxing back against her chest, his head dropped back onto her shoulder. "I've been faithful to you for fifty-three years, give or take," he replied softly, "I don't see why that would change in the next hundred." Five felt Gwen's tears fall onto his skin, but he did not move. He knew she needed him to let her think, not comfort her. After a long moment of silence, he turned to look at her. "If you would rather find another way, we'll do that," he assured, pausing to kiss her, "but it's been you and me since we were six and I'm not planning on changing that, because I love you."
Gwen gasped. Not because she doubted that he loved her, but because she never thought he would ever say it out loud. Wordless communication was their forte and most of what she knew about his feelings was figured out during her trips into his mind. To hear him actually say the words felt almost surreal to her. "Ask her in the morning," she finally whispered, awestruck, "at breakfast, while they are there." Five kissed her harder, maneuvering them so that she was on her back beneath him. She flushed as memories of their encounter earlier in the day played in her head. When he pulled away, her cheeks were stained pink and he grinned at her. A grin that faded as he took in the worried wrinkle between her eyebrows. "Five, I'm scared." Scared that they would not last, scared that she would lose him. He understood.
"You'd have to be an idiot not to be a little scared," he replied, pressing his lips to her forehead, "and I happen to know that you are the smartest person I know."
Gwen smiled softly. "You don't seem to be particularly afraid."
"When it comes to you, I am an idiot, which is why your mom will say yes before your grandparents can get a word in." They shifted again, lying the way they always did. Five's thumb ran over Gwen's as he contemplated how to best ask Monica for her permission to officially date her daughter. He was fairly certain she knew he loved her, and even if she did not, she knew that he would always put her first and ensure her happiness above all else, which was more than Tristan Carmine ever would. Had it not been for the even breaths of the sleeping girl beside him, Five would have growled. Reminding himself that they had, hopefully, prevented that future, he succumbed to slumber.
At dawn, Gwen was woken up by a soft kiss on her cheek. She opened one eye to peer tiredly at Five. He was fully dressed. "See you in a couple of hours?" He nodded and kissed her before disappearing. She glanced at the clock, groaning as she saw the time. It was almost twenty past seven, and since breakfast was served at ten on weekends, she had three hours to shower and get ready. Dragging herself out of bed, Gwen decided on taking a bath. She had the time if she skipped putting her hair up and considering the events that were to take place, she figured her grandmother would not have time to reprimand her.
The minute she stepped into the dining room, her mother's head snapped up. "Mother, I am fine," she assured, holding up a hand to stop her mother from rising, "I feel much better." Gwen took her seat, struggling to contain her smile. Something must have given away her change of attitude, as both her mother and Simon looked at her strangely. Like the Hargreeves, they both suspected Gwen and Five's involvement in Sir Reginald's death. She almost giggled as she peeked into their heads and found both of them wondering whether or not Five had murdered the Carmines or the elder Silvers. Half of their fear was assuaged when the unwelcome visitors entered the dining room.
"Ah, Gwendolyn," Annie-May said, not bothering with holding back her glee, "I see you are feeling better this morning." She shot Monica and the butler a triumphant look, reaching for a piece of toast as she turned back to her granddaughter. Somewhere in the house, a clock rang as the hour struck ten. She opened her mouth to reopen the discussion from the night before. A doorbell interrupted her and she glared as Simon left to get the door. "Who in their right mind stops by uninvited?" Monica scowled at her, an expression that morphed into surprised horror when she looked past her mother and toward the doorway. Annie-May followed her daughter's gaze to find Simon reentering the room with a boy she did not recognize.
"A visitor, seeking miss Monica."
Monica glanced from Five to her daughter, whose mood suddenly made more sense even as it brought up more questions. She did not know whether to be trepidatious or relieved. "What can I do for you?" Still wondering if she was going to regret the question, she turned her gaze back to Five, who had his most charming smile on. It did not ease her nerves in the slightest.
"Miss Silver, I've come to ask your permission to establish an agreement with your daughter." Five basked in the minor chaos his words caused. Annie-May Silver was shrieking at Monica, who turned just in time to see Gwen plaster a surprised look on her face. Henry Silver was yelling questions at his daughter, wondering who the insolent low-life daring to take such liberty was. Simon just looked plain exasperated as he glanced between Five and Gwen. "If I may," he cut in, the slight steely tone in his voice slicing through the mayhem, "You have known me to be a friend of your daughter's for many years and you know that I will aspire to make every day of her life better than the last."
Snarling, all lady-like behavior gone, Annie-May faced the stranger. "How dare you," she spat, pointing an accusatory finger at him, "how dare you suggest that you will ever be good enough for Gwendolyn?" She could not believe the audacity of the boy. She had never seen him before, meaning that he was not a part of high society, therefore he could not be rich. Whoever he was, he would never suffice for her Gwendolyn.
"I assure you, mrs. Silver," Five replied smoothly, "that your granddaughter will wish for nothing should an agreement be settled."
Monica interjected before her mother could speak again. "Should my daughter agree…"
Henry slammed a fist into the table. "Do not dare, Monica," he growled, "the Carmine family is one of the richest in the state and their son is the most eligible bachelor available."
"Well, that might be true," Monica countered, her mind made up as the struggle to keep from smiling became clear on her daughter's face, "if one discount the Hargreeves sons." She should have known that Five would find out about the talks of agreements. She had just expected that Gwen would take longer to decide to tell him. "As it is, I have already made my decision," she continued, "and if my daughter is willing, then you have my blessing." Monica's gaze followed Five as he made his way around the table to Gwen.
Enraged, Henry glared at his daughter. "The best choice for Gwendolyn is Tristan Carmine," he almost shouted, "the Hargreeves family has never participated in the courtship rituals and therefore the Carmines is the most influential family for us to tie to."
"Gwenny," Five murmured, ignoring Henry as he directed his words at Gwen only, "let's make this thing official." He bowed to her, lifting her knuckles to his lips in a painfully proper gesture before he straightened himself and spoke louder. "Miss Gwendolyn, will you be so kind as to accept my offer," he asked, never letting go of her hand, "knowing that I have loved you for years and will continue to do so until my death?" Even as Gwen's eyes brimmed with tears, he was infinitely thankful that his family was not present. He would never live it down. The idea of the mild humiliation was soothed by the speechless nod he received from his girlfriend and it took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to sweep her off her feet into a kiss she would never forget. He settled for kissing her knuckles again, grinning. "I will spend the rest of my life reminding you that you made the right choice," he said, holding her gaze, "You will never have reason to doubt my feelings."
Annie-May had had it with the charades. "Gwendolyn Silver," she hissed dangerously, "you take that back right now or your inheritance will be naught but a fading dream."
"That's fine," Five replied, voice significantly darker, "I assure you that my own fortune is substantial enough to support myself and Gwendolyn for some time." The entire Hargreeves family had been shocked to see that Sir Reginald had split his billion dollar fortune among them. Well, the surprise had been more that it had been split evenly. Grace had been a recipient too. Annie-May and Henry gawked at him. Even Gwen was surprised.
Monica smirked. She had, after all, been the attorney to handle Sir Reginald's will. "Mom, Dad, allow me to introduce you to Five Hargreeves." Her mother's eyes widened and her father's jaw dropped. The rest of them just looked smug. Turning to Five, Monica grinned. "Will you be joining us for breakfast, Five, or do you have somewhere else to be?" She took so much pleasure from seeing her parents genuinely speechless.
Without hesitation, Five took a seat beside his fiancée-to-be, throwing an arm over the back of her chair. He had already made the decision to see how much the elder Silvers would let him get away with. Somewhere, deep in his mind, he was aware that he was likely to be yelled at by Gwen. However, since both he and Monica aimed to help her loosen up a little, he would take it. So he sat on the edge of his seat, leaning against the backrest with a small smirk on his face that only widened when his girlfriend did not correct his posture. He nodded to Simon as the man poured him some orange juice, grinning when he caught the tug of the lip that was as good as a smirk on the butler. Still not removing his arm from behind Gwen, Five reached over her plate to get to the blackberries, not only initiating physical contact he knew that he too would suffer for, but completely disregarding the general rule of asking for something to be passed. In the corner of his eye, he saw Annie-May clench her fists around her knife so tightly that her knuckles went white. Leaning back with the bowl, he wondered who would stab him first, Gwen or Annie-May, if he tried to feed the girl beside him. Well, he thought, he had no sense of self-preservation anyway. Five placed the berry between his teeth and faced Gwen, fully expecting the blush that immediately blossomed on her cheeks. Which is why he did not anticipate her response.
Gwen kissed him, in full view of her grandparents, stealing the berry from him. Even though her cheeks burned, the expression on Five's face as she pulled away was worth it. His eyes darkened as he gazed at her intently. Ignoring the dumbstruck look on her grandparents' faces, she smiled bashfully as the faint sound of Simon chortling in the kitchen reached her ears. Her mother appeared to be struggling to hold back her own laughter.
"I forbid it," Annie-May declared once she recovered, "I absolutely forbid you, Gwendolyn Mariah Silver, from dishonoring the family by indulging such improper behavior!" She glared at the boy by her granddaughter's side before turning to Monica. "I think it will be for the best to have Gwendolyn stay with us until her debutante," she stated brusquely, "A debutante she will be escorted to by mr. Carmine." Gwen opened her mouth to argue and Annie-May slammed her palm into the table. Silence lay heavy over the room, all laughter gone.
Except… "Excuse me?"
Gwen's closed her eyes tightly, not really feeling sorry for her grandmother while simultaneously wishing that no one would get hurt. If Five's tone was anything to go by though, she recognized that the odds were painfully low. He placed his hands flat against the tabletop and stood slowly, his blue gaze locked on Annie-May. "Five, please." He made no move to show that he had even heard her. Instead, he leaned closer to the frozen forms on the other side of the table.
"Let me make something very clear," he hissed, one hand clenching into a tight fist, "Gwen does everything you ever ask of her, and because of her respect for you I'll let you leave this house alive." Horror colored the elder Silvers' feature and Five grinned dangerously, sinking into his seat again. Gwen's fingers wrapped around his fist but he refused to relax until he felt his point was brought home. "Should I hear mention of you even whispering about taking her away," he continued silkily, leaning back, "that will change." He pinned Annie-May and Henry with his gaze before intwining his fingers with Gwen's as he continued eating his breakfast.
Not a word was spoken for the remainder of the meal. Finally, as Simon was taking the dishes to the kitchen, Monica had gathered enough of her wits to speak. "Mom, Dad, I think you'll find that staying here another night will be futile," she said, her voice and Five's presence leaving no room for argument, "as any attempts of convincing us to attend dinner with the Carmines will be… hindered." She glanced at her future son-in-law without meaning to, but it seemed to be enough for her parents. Without prompting, her mother and father stood and headed for the hallway, Simon following to fetch their coats for them. Monica grinned when the door slammed shut without them bidding goodbye. She turned to the teenagers. "So you've decided to actually indulge my daughter then?" Five nodded absently, eyes closed as he drank his coffee. "And you're aware of what the agreement entails?"
"Casually dating until her debutante, after which the official courtship begins," he recited dutifully, once again draping his arm over the back of Gwen's chair, "I will be expected to appear at all social events she'll be required to attend, give her a piece of jewelry as an antiquated way of marking that she's taken and once we turn eighteen I'll propose in a disgustingly public way to announce the union of our esteemed houses." Setting down his mug, Five glanced around the table. Monica looked vaguely impressed and Gwen raised her eyebrows at him in surprise. Simon gave nothing away as while he refilled the empty mug. "I do listen to what you say," Five muttered, "even though I try my hardest not to when you start on your precious rules of etiquette." Gwen poked him playfully, allowing him to pull her chair closer to his. He pressed a kiss to her temple. Urgent knocking on the door had them breaking apart as all heads turned in the direction of the noise. "I thought we'd have a little longer-"
Gwen silenced him, brow furrowed in concentration. "Five, you should get home," she said quietly, "tell your family about the recent developments." He frowned at her, opening his mouth to protest. She shook her head insistently, silently telling him to come over later. A dull pop signaled his departure and Gwen stood, smoothing out her skirt. With a glance, she stopped Simon from opening the door. Her mother's expression was worried, but Gwen was focused on the onslaught of distress coming from the person on the front steps. She threw the door open and guided a crying Vanya Hargreeves over the doorstep. "Simon, would you please prepare a pot of chamomile tea," she asked, helping the devastated girl out of her coat, "Mother, you should be getting to work, it's almost noon and you don't want to keep your clients waiting." Without waiting for a reply, Gwen ushered Vanya up the stairs to the library. She sunk into a loveseat, pulling the still crying girl down beside her, and held her tightly until the tears subsided. "Vanya," she urged quietly, gently lifting her friend's chin to meet her watery gaze, "what on Earth happened?"