A/N: This one is actually somewhat fluffy and has no angst wut?
Summary: After the family finds out that Harold and Rosamund were having an affair, the family sits them down to talk and it's all kinds of awkward.
Accusation
"I don't understand."
Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Rosamund sighs at her brother's unwillingness and inability to process this (admittedly shocking) information.
"Robert, it's really not that complicated," she sighs, straightening slightly in her uncomfortable seat. She refuses to waver under her family's judgmental gaze.
Everybody has an opinion and they all feel the need to share it. Her mother is furious, her brother is perpetually confused, and Martha seems to be highly amused by this ridiculous intervention. If she wasn't on the receiving end of it, perhaps Rosamund would find it something other than annoying.
Cora hasn't said anything yet, but Rosamund suspects that she will be getting an earful later in the evening. It will probably involve hushed accusations in her dressing room along the lines of, "What were you thinking Rosamund? My brother?"
She hadn't been thinking. And that is precisely why they are now in this situation, sitting side by side on the settee in the library while everybody else made grand melodramatic accusations of scandal, trying (and failing) to understand something that she doesn't quite understand herself.
"We've been through it already. The rumours are true," she says crisply. "Harold and I arehaving an affair."
This is the first time that she's given a name to their stolen nights in London.
An affair. They've been having an affair.
Her mother grimaces."Rosamund, if you are are trying to make me ill, you are succeeding."
Rosamund raises an unamused eyebrow, about to bite back with an acerbic remark, when Harold interrupts her.
"I don't see what the fuss is about," Harold shrugs beside her. "We're two consenting adults. What's the big deal?"
"The big deal, Harold," her dear mama is seething. She tightens her grip on her cane, "is that you are not married. You have no title. Simply put, you are not good enough for my daughter!"
"Hey!" Martha interrupts, thoroughly annoyed. "My son is a catch! Any girl would be lucky to have him – even Ms Holier-than-thou over here."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Mama says through clenched teeth. Rosamund shoots her a pointed glare. She is thankful when Cora finally speaks, putting an end to these juvenile insults.
Cora's eyes dart between Harold and Rosamund. "I want to know what your intentions are," she states simply. And then she asks the question that nobody had even considered.
"Are you in love?"
The truth was, Rosamund hadn't really thought about it. It didn't matter really. He's going back to America soon, and she'll go back to her life in London.
"Regardless if they are or not, they'll have to marry," the Dowager's authority is made clear.
"But...but... they're related!" Robert's eyes just about popped out of his skull. "They can't."
Martha shakes her head and scoffs. " I don't understand you people. It's okay that Mary married her cousin, but it's not okay for Harold and Rosamund? They're not even blood relatives!"
"For once, I agree with the American," Rosamund rolls her eyes at her mother. "Rosamund, you're going to have to get married," she reiterates.
It's something about the way her mother said that made her snap.
"Oh mother, stop it. It's the 20th Century. I don't have any virtue that can be lost. Like Harold said, we are two consenting adults and that's really all that should matter. Besides, what do you think would happen if we were to marry? He's not going to move to London, and I sure as hell am not going to America."
"Rosamund!" Her poor mother was going to have a heart attack.
She stands, and Harold follows. "Harold, darling. Would you please accompany me back to my house?"
"Pleasure is all mine, my dear," he puts his hat on, and offers her his arm.
Rosamund's mother is fuming. "What, pray tell, will you be doing at your house?"
"Oh mama," Rosamund smirks, "Use your imagination."