Interlude

. o O o .

The Banns had been called, and no one had objected. Not that Archie had really expected anyone to speak up against the union - even if anyone had objections he doubted they would dare voice them and go against the powerful Lady Bleu - but judging by the way his stomach had dropped when he got the news he had apparently been nursing a faint hope that someone would.

He had not been present in church himself, having been called away urgently, but Lady Bleu had made sure to inform him as soon as he got home in the evening. She hadn't even given him the chance to take off his coat, he reflected with bemusement, meeting him in the hall as soon as he staggered in, tired, hungry and cold. She had looked almost giddy with glee at the news. Well, as giddy as the Right Honourable Lady Bleu ever looked, he amended to himself; the outward show of such vital emotion was probably beneath her, proper and regal in bearing as she always was. He had forced a smile to his face and hugged the much more visibly excited August, who then proceeded to talk eagerly and non-stop all through dinner, relieving the adults of the task almost completely.

Only half listening as August regaled his aunt with his adventures with Pongo, Archie found his thoughts straying towards dangerous territory: the woman in red. They had met but thrice but already Archie knew, with deep certainty and overwhelming regret, that he loved her. He would have asked her to off with him to Scotland tomorrow would she have had him! But of course it was a mere daydream; he could not whisk her away to Gretna Green any more than he could jump off the rectory roof and fly. He had August to think about, after all, and he seriously doubted she would be willing to leave everything she knew behind to elope with a man she barely knew. Realistically he couldn't even ask her if she cared for him like he did for her, and even if he could…

No, he chided himself, there was no use in dwelling on such hopeless matters. He was to be married to Miss Lucas, and though he doubted he would ever feel for his wife even a fraction of the love he felt towards the woman in red, he intended to be true. He sighed, but turned it into an awkward cough as Lady Bleu and August turned towards him questioningly. Lady Bleu looked like she was about to ask for his thoughts, but thankfully August resumed his stories before she had the chance, reclaiming her focus with his lovable childish enthusiasm. Archie forced himself to focus on his charge and their guest, but after Lady Bleu's carriage had quitted for the Enchanted Forest and August grudgingly climbed the stairs to go to bed, Archie found himself in his small study still unable to completely banish the woman in red from his thoughts. Staring into the dying fire he sighed deeply. It was folly, plain and simple, to torture himself like this. He didn't even know her name! But though the daydream only gave him pain he couldn't help but think of her.

. o O o .

For three consecutive Sundays Ruby had daydreamed that someone – a certain kind, redheaded someone – would stand up and speak against the union. She had dreamt up every possible scenario but none had came to pass: The Banns had been read and her mysterious friend had not saved her.

Of course, she was not truly vexed, for though vivid and heartfelt her daydreams were after all merely that: daydreams. But no matter how much she tried she found herself unable to deny a strong feeling of disappointment.

"Ruby?"

The soft inquiry made Ruby turn from the window where she had been sitting all evening. The look on Mary Margaret's face made Ruby turn back to the window immediately lest the sympathy in her sister's eyes should break the last vestiges of control she had. She bit her lip and blinked furiously in a vain attempt to hold back the tears.

"Ruby dearest, will you not dine with us?"

"I'm not feeling well," Ruby said softly, following a raindrop with her eyes as it started trailing down the window pane. In the distance the skies were dark and brooding and more raindrops joined the first, trailing down the glass. There would no doubt be a terrible rain storm shortly. She would not be able to go out to look for him tonight, no matter how badly she wanted - needed - to see him. She knew that the sight and sound of him, his soothing, calm and kind countenance would have cheered her up immensely, no matter how painful a reminder he was of what she so desperately wanted but could not have.

She could not explain it rationally - but of course love had nothing to do with rationality. It had taken but a moment for her to value her new friend - and with every meeting her feelings grew. It was nothing like what she had felt for Peter; theirs had been a childish passion, honest but naive. It may have grown into something more viable if they had been given the chance, but there was no use in dwelling over things that could never be.

She sighed. Was she cursed to love only those she could not have?

For even though she had met him less than a handful of times Ruby had to admit that she had grown to care about the kind redhead a great deal. One would think she had never encountered kindness in her life so desperately she craved his company and encouragements! The mere thought of him set her heart aflutter, and she longed for his smile and his laughter. Her grandmother would no doubt have scoffed had she known (scoffed and denied Ruby ever doing something as improper again as meeting a "stranger" in the woods without a chaperone) and her sisters would have teased her for being so love smitten, but Ruby had kept her thoughts and feelings to herself - hoarding the knowledge and memory of her secret friend with a strange possessiveness that made her want to cry out that her friend was hers, and hers alone! Her future husband would never ever learn of the friendship; not because she was ashamed (in a way it was tempting to torment him with the knowledge) but because she didn't want him to taint her view of her friend and the times they had spent together. Theirs was a private affair, between the two of them and no one else in the world.

Would she were free so she could admit her feelings to him - for she was certain in her heart that he felt the same way.

Since she had never seen her friend in church he no doubt belonged to another parish, maybe even the same one the damned Mr. Hopper belonged to. The parish she too would belong to after her marriage. The possibility that she would see her friend in church every Sunday, but be bound to another... just thinking about it made her throat tighten. She would be forced to sit beside her husband, but she would long to sit beside him.

The thought that her friend might actually know Mr. Hopper, would perhaps call on her husband at some point, was torture. Imagine seeing him, welcoming him into her home, but only as a guest - the thought alone brought fresh tears to her eyes.

"I'll have tea sent up to you in a while, all right?"

Ruby shrugged without turning, and after a moment she heard Mary Margaret leave the room.

"I will not regret a sacrifice made for love," Ruby whispered, her breath ghosting over the cold glass, but though her sense agreed with her friend's wise words her sensibilities raged and wept against the unfairness of it all.

. o O o .

To be continued...