Hello! I'm sorry it took me a while to update but I have been busy with uni and haven't had much time to work on the latest chapter until now. Thank you for your patience and support and enjoy! :)
One Week Later
Harold Saxon walked down the stairs briskly as he made his way into the dining room. "Good morning," he greeted cheerfully, taking his seat opposite of where John Foreman sat.
John looked up from the newspaper he was reading and arched a brow. "I still have no idea why you are so happy these days – it's scaring me – are you terminally ill or is father coming?"
Instead of feeling offended, Harold let out a laugh. "Don't be silly, cousin dearest," he replied, reaching for an apple. "So, what's your plan with the Oswald girl – it's been more than a week, perhaps it's a good idea to visit her."
The young man pursed his lips and frowned. "Why are you so keen on me spending time with her?"
"Because that's why we are here in the first place – you're trying to swoon her," Harold replied, taking a bite of the apple.
"Her father recently had a heart attack and you expect me to simply pretend as if nothing happened – we've had this conversation before," John said in a sharp tone.
If there was one thing he hated more than having people stick their noses into his personal business, it's being told what to do.
His cousin merely smirked.
"What are you up to – you have that look you always have when things are going your way."
Harold took another bite of his apple. "I suppose it's inevitable anyway so what the hell – when Mr Oswald and I met, we agreed that you and his daughter are to wed."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard what I said – you and the girl are going to get married," he repeated, smiling but it disappeared when he saw his cousin frowning. "You don't seem happy – I thought-"
"Did she agree to marry me or is this something you and Mr Oswald agreed upon without our knowledge?"
"I don't understand what you are so upset about – don't you want the girl?"
John stood up, eyes filled with rage. "I love Clara Oswald – I've loved her since the day we met but that doesn't give anybody the right to dictate my or her future!"
The man merely huffed. "Stop being so dramatic – you get what you want, you should be ecstatic."
"But does Clara know about this?"
"It's not our problem-"
"What else did you do?" John demanded.
Harold decided to play dumb, thinking it was better to not mention his plan of sending a warning to the competition, last week. "I don't know what you are on about, cousin – stop being irrational."
The young man shook his head. "No, I've known you long enough that you can only be this confident when you think you've secured everything."
Harold rolled his eyes. "I promise you I didn't do anything."
John glared at his cousin before he stormed off, knowing well he wouldn't get the truth from him. Perhaps spending time with Idris would calm his mind. More importantly, he needed to speak to Clara.
"And be sure to get enough sleep – Missy told me you've been locked up in your office all day long yesterday instead of resting – it's only been a little over a week, your body needs to heal properly," Clara said as she entwined her fingers with John, beaming.
They were seated outside in the back garden, deciding to take advantage of the beautiful weather.
The man merely growled. "You're bossing me around and I need to move instead of just lying in bed – it's boring."
"You're making Missy's point valid, you daft man."
John rolled his eyes. "Which one?"
Clara giggled when he kissed her knuckles. "The one about being childish."
"You believe her?"
"Like I said, you're proving her point," she murmured before clasping his hand once more, weaving their fingers.
John stared at their entwined hands and pondered. Is this what she truly wanted? Does he deserve her? After all, he was nothing more than a physician. He couldn't offer her immense wealth or live a life of luxury. Most importantly, would she be happy with an old man like him?
"Clara," he said gently, still staring down.
She merely hummed, resting her head against his shoulder.
"Is this what you want?" he asked.
She pulled away and stared him in confusion. "What do you mean?"
John let out a sigh. "What I am trying to say is, are you happy – do you deserve an old man like me – do I deserve someone who's impossible like you- I can't give you the life you have now-"
She placed a finger to his lips. "If I wasn't sure what I wanted, I wouldn't have kissed you, tended your wounds and, I certainly wouldn't have told my father I was… am in love with you."
John's eyes widened in surprise and shock. "Clara -"
"If you love me in any way…"
"I do," he whispered, staring at her intently. "Oh, Clara, my Clara."
He kissed her forehead and allowed her to embrace him as he wrapped one arm around her.
"And for the record, you are not an old man."
John chuckled. "Have you seen me?"
Clara looked up and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Those scars make you look younger."
She rested her head against his shoulder once more, not uttering a single word, enjoying each other's company until she was reminded the reason why she was here, to begin with.
"Doctor," she murmured.
"I think formality is no longer necessary – John would suffice."
She pulled away and stared at him seriously. "I've been thinking about this for the past few days and… I think it's time I tell my childhood friend the truth."
"Have you talked to your father about this – does he know I'm well, unofficially courting you?"
Clara shook her head. "I told father that I love you the day he suffered a heart attack, but he seems to have no memory of it and I do not wish to give false hope to John Foreman. I do not want to sneak away just to spend time with you, any longer."
"Whenever I try telling him the truth, father seems to always get into the subject of my courtship with John," she continued, sighing frustratingly.
The Doctor pondered for a moment before he spoke softly. "What if I speak to your father?"
Clara's eyes widened in shock and surprise. She couldn't believe her ears. "I haven't thought about it before – I'm not sure how he will react."
John beamed, taking her hand and kissing it. "Just leave that to me," he murmured, earning a worried look. "Trust me, I'm the Doctor."
At that moment, she realised, she wasn't fighting alone anymore.
Before John could react, Clara wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.
"I'm surprised to see you up and about as if nothing happened in the past week, Dave," Harold commented as both men took their seats opposite each other.
Dave nodded. "Well, the world has to keep moving forward – the longer I am absent, the more catching up I have to do."
"So, what brings us here?" he asked, despite knowing the answer. He knew Dave would finally give John his permission to ask for Clara's hand in marriage.
"It concerns my daughter and your cousin," he answered casually, browsing through the menu.
Harold couldn't hide the smile on his face. "Ah, the two lovebirds."
"Yes," Dave said as he set the menu aside. "I haven't spoken to Clara yet, but I believe now is the right time for John to propose to her – I will be honest, Harold – I have no idea how much longer I will live, and I'm concerned that Clara-" he explained before he abruptly stopped speaking, feeling a lump in his throat. "I have no intention of leaving her alone."
Harold merely nodded, giving his best sympathetic look. "I understand, but you shouldn't brood too much, Dave – it's bad for one's health."
The older man sighed. "I want John to propose to Clara, but I will talk to her beforehand."
"Very well, I will prepare everything on my side – I'm sure my cousin is going to be thrilled at marrying his childhood friend."
The moment Clara Oswald stepped out of the carriage, she was greeted by the sight of Idris standing in front of one of the large windows, peering inside, looking for her master.
Oh God. Why did he have to be here now? She already felt guilty for giving him hope and now she was going to break his heart into pieces. She never felt so guilty and unprepared in her life. However, she straightened her back and strode into the mansion.
"Clara!" John exclaimed happily as he rose from the sofa, both hands fiddling with his hat. He then grabbed her hand and kissed it. "I hope you are well."
"And I hope you are too – what brings you here?" she said, granting him a small smile.
He looked away shyly before he found the courage to speak. "I was wondering if I could speak to you, in private?" he whispered, feeling as if somebody was watching him. "There are some things I wish to discuss with you, but not here."
Clara furrowed her brows. What did he mean by that?
"Yes, of course – I have something to tell you, as well."
"Excellent! Perhaps I could take you to that bookshop I mentioned before?" he asked, looking behind Clara, as he caught dozens of staff members eavesdropping, causing him to chuckle.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing!" he answered, clearing his throat when all of them ran off in a hurry.
Clara turned around and saw nothing but an empty hallway. "Are you sure you didn't see something that amused you?"
"I'm certain, my impossible girl."
The nickname only caused another wave of guilt to wash over her. She wasn't looking forward to telling him the truth, but she needed to.
"Shall we go there now, or would you prefer to-"
"Now is fine."
John took her hand and kissed it. "I shall meet you there, then – tellMr Rentford to follow my lead."
"I'm going to be gone for a few hours," Missy announced after she had helped her brother to bed.
"You're not -"
"Don't be silly, lover boy – I still have a business to run, you know – it's not like you pay me for taking care of you."
John glared at his sister before he decided to let it go. "Fine, just remember the promise."
Missy rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, I'm a woman of my word – now just stay in bed and think about your future with your future wife, and possibly future children in it, yeah – someone's got to continue the Smith lineage."
"Please, just leave," he said embarrassedly, face reddening.
His sister grinned before shutting the door behind her. Her smile instantly faded as she climbed down the stairs and stepped out of the house.
Missy had been casually walking down the long road, blending in with people for about ten minutes before a carriage stopped next to her. The driver tipped his hat.
"Ma'am," he greeted.
She stepped into the carriage and sat opposite her assistant. "Any news?"
Seb smiled as he pulled out a list and handed it to her. It contained the names of the assailants and their addresses. "I thought it was going to be a difficult find but as it turns out, we had a witness who knew one of the assailants – I got the name and after that, it was just a matter of tracking them down."
"Well done," she uttered, eyes scanning the list. "The last one doesn't have an address."
"He doesn't – barely makes enough to survive and spends most of it on alcohol and prostitutes, but word has it he frequents a pub in Whitechapel."
Missy handed the list back to Seb. "Grab them. All of them. Tonight."
Her assistant nodded. "Yes, Ma'am," he said before knocking the wall twice. The carriage stopped after a moment. Seb then stepped out.
"And Seb," Missy uttered. "Be sure to bring some extra muscle – from what I understand, these men aren't scarecrows."
The man merely nodded before he took his leave.
Missy leaned back against the seat as the carriage started moving forward once more. She was going to get the name of the person who hurt her brother. By hook or by crook.