Author's Note: This chapter was difficult, mostly because of Harold Saxon (aka Wickham). Oh, this character and the tangled web he weaves! I hope it worked out alright; as always, your thoughts are very welcome. Beta'd by lastincurableromantic.
Despite her best efforts, thoughts of the strange encounter she'd witnessed kept edging to the front of Rose's mind. Mr. Smith perplexed her. He was quite obviously handsome and brilliant and seemed to know it, too. Yet he had also proved himself from the start to be condescending and proud. He had even claimed the last, albeit indirectly. His superior attitude grated on her nerves, yet occasionally she almost thought she saw something else in his eyes when he looked at her... but that was ridiculous. And now his exchange with Mr. Saxon threw his character even further into shadow.
Upon arriving at their aunt's, Mr. Collins proceeded to compliment her fine home, which pleased Mrs. Philips greatly. Soon the conversation predictably turned to the militia's latest recruit. Mrs. Philips mentioned that she and her husband had invited several of the officers to dinner tomorrow night, and soon found herself compelled to extend the invitation to her nieces and their very grateful cousin as well.
Bubbling over with delight and curiosity, the sisters once again made their way to their aunt's home the next evening. The weather was pleasantly warm, and the creatures about them seemed to mirror their lively energy. The officers had not yet arrived, forcing the girls to pretend for awhile to be interested in Mr. Collins' rather tiresome observations.
Fortunately the men appeared within minutes. Mr. Saxon easily captured the attention of the ladies as he entered, his confidence and noble bearing - now smartly paired with a dashing uniform - outshining the officers who had so recently been the favorites of the town.
Rose smiled as he took the seat beside her and soon found herself quite entertained. He was very courteous yet engaging, and they easily fell into pleasant conversation.
Across the room, Mr. Collins found a ready listener in Aunt Philips, who thought he was a very nice young man indeed. She engaged him as her partner in a game of cards, though she soon regretted her choice when he proved his ineptitude at the game. Mr. Saxon joined the other table, placing himself between Lucy and Rose. As Lucy was quite engrossed in the game of chance before her, Rose once again found herself the sole focus of his attentions. She appreciated the chance to get to know him better and hoped somehow she'd be able to glean a little insight into his relation to Mr. Smith. Quite surprisingly he addressed the topic almost straightaway.
"I've heard the Torchwood estate is one of the finest in these parts," he declared with a smile before hesitating slightly. "Has Mr. Smith been there long?"
Sure she must've started a bit in surprise, Rose answered quickly, hoping he hadn't noticed. " 'Bout a month, I think," she replied. "They say he has a rather large estate in Darbyshire."
"I can vouch for it, as I have lived in the very same neighborhood since my youth. Our families were quite close for many years, actually." Seeing Rose's wide-eyed disbelief, he continued with a smirk. "I can understand your surprise, as I believe you witnessed the coolness of our meeting yesterday. Do you know him well?"
"Well enough, I think," Rose answered, already feeling a surge of sympathy for this candid young man. "He's a bit hard to make out. Not exactly friendly, well, rather the opposite, I'd say."
"I've known him too long to give an objective opinion. I think many would be surprised by yours, though perhaps you only speak so because you're amongst family."
"I should hope not. My opinion doesn't change with the company I keep," she retorted with feeling. Drawing a calming breath, she went on. "I don't think you'll find many here as think differently. He is known to be proud and arrogant and generally unfriendly."
"I fear most of his acquaintance judge him as men too often are, by their status, wealth, or the force of their presence, all of which Mr. Smith possesses," Mr. Saxon lamented. "I am curious whether he means to remain here for long."
"I'm not sure. I haven't heard any talk of him leaving," Rose replied. "I hope his presence here won't chase you away."
"Certainly not!" he declared with a laugh. "Don't you worry. He won't frighten me away. While I don't particularly enjoy running into him this way, I have no reason to hide. If he wishes to avoid me, he will have to leave." He paused and leaned in as if to share a secret, and Rose mimicked his action, intrigued.
"My father and his were great friends, and my father gave up his career to help care for Gallifrey, their family estate. Mr. Smith's father was one of the best men I've known. He promised my father that he would do all he could to provide for me; he cared for me like one of his own. John - Mr. Smith, I mean - he and I grew up together; we were even friends in our youth. Oh, the trouble we got ourselves into. Regular troublemakers, we were!" he exclaimed, grinning widely. Rose returned his smile, finding it hard to imagine John Smith young, much less wild or reckless.
"We grew apart eventually, as friends do, but at some point his disinterest became dislike. I don't know why, though I've always supposed he was jealous of having to share his father's love." He paused a moment, fingers drumming restlessly against his knee as he held her gaze, his blue eyes wistful. "I was meant for the church, you see, and it had been arranged that I would take the living in his parish. When the position became open, however, Mr. Smith refused to honor his late father's wishes."
Rose, who had listened in rapt silence for some time, could do so no longer. "What? I mean, arrogant and condescending, yeah, but so completely devoid of feeling as to ignore his father's wishes? To treat a fellow man, once his friend, so abominably? I can't understand it!"
Sighing, he shook his head. "It wasn't ever formal, you know, more of a covenant. He chose to doubt it, claiming I had lost my right to it because of my foolish, wild ways. I am open and honest by nature; perhaps I spoke too freely with or about him. No real reason was ever given. We are so different now; he hates me, and so he punishes me, forcing me to find another way through life than what I would have chosen."
No second chances... Rose's heart welled with compassion for the man before her and anger towards the one who had hurt him. "How horrible! What about his pride? I'd think that would stop him from acting unfairly."
"He is a proud man, to be sure. Obviously some stronger feeling or reason was guiding him," Mr. Saxon concluded. "It's a shame, too. His pride has often led him to do rather kind and generous things, helping the poor and building up the community. He has a great deal of family pride, which he still holds for his sister, making him a most caring and protective brother and guardian."
Even with her emotions admittedly in turmoil, Rose's curiosity perked up at that. "What is she like?"
His face took on a look of sadness. "I suppose some would call her a most charming and lovely girl, but I'm afraid she has too much of her brother's pride to truly be so. When we were younger I would often entertain her; she was very sweet and affectionate and adored me. But she is nothing to me now. Regardless, she is lovely and young, maybe your sister Lucy's age, and very accomplished."
So much of what he said fell in line with what Rose herself had witnessed and heard that she had little trouble accepting it as truth. Yet one thought still perplexed her. "How can such a man have Mr. Harkness for his closest friend? They are like day and night. Mr. Harkness is charming and funny and joyful. I think he must not really know his friend."
He shrugged. "I can't say, as I've never met his friend, but I assure you Mr. Smith is quite capable of being witty and sincere, perhaps even pleasant, amongst those he considers worthy," he declared, taking on an imperious tone at the end. Rose didn't quite manage to contain her laughter, a slight chuckle escaping from behind her hand that made him smile.
The games soon ended, concluding their little tete-a-tete as conversation swelled around them. Mr. Collins had apparently lost a fair sum of money at cards, for which their aunt felt quite sorry.
"Truly, don't worry on my account, madam," Mickey assured her. "There's always a chance of losing at such games, and it's not much to me, though I'm sure it would be to some. Thankfully the position granted me by the honorable Lady Yvonne Hartman relieves me from such worries."
Mr. Saxon's head snapped up at this, and he casually made his way to Rose's side again, inquiring as to how well her cousin knew the Hartman family.
"He has only recently taken the position," Rose said, "and I don't believe they knew each other well beforehand."
Leaning in conspiratorially he whispered, "You know, of course, that Lady Yvonne Hartman and Lady Anne Smith were sisters, meaning his 'esteemed patroness' is in fact Mr. Smith's aunt. And it is generally understood that he and her daughter will eventually marry, uniting two very great houses."
Apparently she was not alone in her ignorance of such things; her lips formed a wry, almost pitying smile as she remembered Reinette Harkness' rather obvious plays for his attention. "My cousin speaks almost reverently of Lady Hartman, though I think perhaps his gratitude clouds his perception somewhat. I'm quite sure her ladyship is, in reality, more conceited and condescending than benevolent."
"Everyone in town calls her very wise and discerning. In my memory, however, she was a fearful tyrant, demanding and hard-hearted. Her position and wealth, of course, add much to her reputation, not unlike her nephew."
The rest of the evening passed quite pleasantly for all. Mr. Saxon's gentlemanly manners and clever stories made him much admired, and Rose was no exception. She had greatly enjoyed his company, and he had given her much to mull over. Upon leaving, however, any such musing became nearly impossible, as Lucy chattered on about her luck at the game and Mickey declared, in terms both general and minute, his satisfaction with the evening's events.
Walking in the garden the next morning, the sun beginning to gently chase away the night's chill as the bees hummed lazily around them, Rose shared with Donna the revelations of the previous night. Donna's mouth fell open rather comically as she learned of Mr. Smith's refusal to grant the position to Mr. Saxon. She always sought the good in people, as did Rose on her cheerful days (which most were), but Donna was much less willing to accept the bad.
"Surely it's all just a misunderstanding," she declared. "Perhaps others involved in the affair hid the truth, and they were both misled. They are too good for such foul dealings. Honestly, it is impossible for us to judge, knowing so little of the what and how and why of the situation."
Rose smiled a little at Donna's optimism. "I know how it pains you to think badly of anyone. You'd find some way to excuse these 'others' for their deception as well, dear sister."
"You can laugh at me if you want. How, though, Rose? No marginally decent man could deny a promise made by his own father to one so dearly loved! And that his closest friends would be blind to such malice?!"
"I think that more likely than that Mr. Saxon made up such a story, sharing names and facts without a second thought, and with such openness and hurt in his expression," Rose confessed.
Donna shook her head. "It's a very hard thing, Rose. Really, one doesn't know what to think!"
"Sorry, but one knows exactly what to think," Rose declared, her eyes flashing.
The girls were kept from any further discussion by the arrival of Mr. Harkness and his sisters. They came to personally invite the girls to the ball at Torchwood. Of course the family already knew of it, since Lucy had named the date; they had heard of little but balls and officers for the past several weeks. Reinette and Cassandra fussed and fawned over Donna, saying how much they'd missed her and wondering what she'd been up to since she left. They shied away from Jackie, hardly spoke to Rose, and ignored the rest of the family entirely. After several minutes they again saw Mrs. Tyler approaching, probably with an invitation to stay for tea, and hastily made their exit. Rose noted with satisfaction the thinly veiled annoyance on Jack's face, as he obviously would have liked to remain longer.
All of the ladies were looking forward to the ball, though their expectations were rather varied. Jackie spent the rest of that day crowing over the honor they'd received, the hosts "coming in person especially to invite them, though a card would have done just fine." And she knew why, too. She grinned happily as she thought of the happiness that she was sure was in store for her Donna.
Donna herself, however, did not come close to such grand presumptions. She eagerly awaited the chance to again spend a lovely evening with her new friends, though her heart did beat faster at the thought of dancing with Ja- Mr. Harkness again.
Rose could not deny that the prospect of dancing with the charming Mr. Saxon pleased her exceedingly. She had no doubt that he would excel at it, and their conversation would certainly never be dull. Another small yet vocal part of her vowed to carefully watch Mr. Smith, whom she fully expected to display some proof of his guilt in his looks or actions.
Lynda and Lucy, though also smitten with Mr. Saxon, yet did not require the company of any one particular man to be positively giddy. The ball itself was enough. And even Joan, bless her, seemed agreeable to the notion, admitting that "such social, recreational events are necessary and beneficial to all, and I shall still have the morning all to myself."
Rose, while usually cheerful, felt almost aglow with joy and anticipation. Her sunny outlook led her one day to ask Mr. Collins whether, as a clergyman, he deemed a ball to be a respectable amusement and if he planned to attend.
"I believe a ball, especially one thrown by such a gentleman as Mr. Harkness, is a very fine thing. Both my patroness and I find little fault with dancing, and I hope all of my lovely cousins will honor me with a dance," he replied, shuffling his feet nervously. Rose gave him a surprised smile at this endorsement, from which he seemed to take courage. "I hope you will give me your hand for the first two, Miss Rose."
Rose's brown eyes widened. What had she done? Her impulsive kindness and sympathy had trapped her. She had earnestly hoped Mr. Saxon would claim those very dances. Mustering up what composure she had left, she accepted his offer as graciously as she could. She would just have to be patient, that's all; her happiness would merely be delayed.
However, a terrifying idea began to form in her head soon afterwards, gaining weight until it felt like it would crush her. She noticed with apprehension Mr. Collins' increasing kindness towards her, the way he hardly left her side, and the attempts he often made to compliment her vivacity or cleverness. She had been chosen as the means to 'make amends' between their families. Her suspicions were confirmed when Jackie casually mentioned how happy their union would make her, to which Rose made no response. Her compassion for the man did not reach that far, would never compel her to accept such a marriage. But she wisely remained silent rather than start a fight over what was only a possibility; one Rose fervently prayed would never occur.
It rained almost steadily for the four days that followed. Rose regretted the lost time she could have spent befriending Mr. Saxon, and the younger girls were desperate to see the officers again and to hear the latest gossip. Only the upcoming ball saved the members of the Tyler household from descending into the bickering and discord that normally accompanied being cooped up together for so long.