Peggy is curious at the fact that no one has mentioned her lack of a corset. Not once. Now, given, she's taken to wearing her thicker dresses that she can tie using the bedpost, or wearing a shawl to cover, but it's not not noticeable…
And she's hugged (involuntarily) enough women when they stop by to give gifts or say hello, that they had to have noticed.
And still not a peep.
—
Steve stands anxiously at the front door. It's the day they receive their house staff and he's dreading having to be known as the 'master of the house'.
Margaret stands beside him. Looking bored and uninterested. As she has been since they got married.
"Are you excited to have a ladies maid again?" He asks, trying to start a conversation.
She looks at him, and rolls her eyes, then turns back to face the door.
He sighs.
He's tried multiple times and ways to get her to engage. Even if just in conversation. But after Howard had visited, and shown them their rooms, she'd withdrawn even further, barely even speaking, just giving him exasperated looks.
The house is like a silent tomb.
He's miserable.
But maybe having other people in the house will help.
A knock on the door sounds and he steps forward to open it.
—-
Peggy watches as Steven opens the door. Two men and two women enter.
"Hello." Steve says, "we're happy to have you here."
They get introduced.
Peggy's new ladies' maid is named Lorraine Davies.
Their new cook is a nice older woman who doesn't speak much, Marageret almost misses her name: Ms. Nancy. She mostly just nods kindly and smiles at them.
Steven's valet is named Jack Thompson. A man Peggy instantly dislikes with the way his eyes trail towards her, and the last man, their new driver and all around caretaker of the house is a nice older man named Phillip Coulson.
"Welcome." Steve says, "I've never had a house staff." He says with a wry smile, "so I think it will be more of you teaching me than anything. Margaret?"
"Yes, happy to have people in the house who actually know what they're doing." She says with a frown towards Steve. He stiffens but does not respond.
She watches as the valet, Thompson smirks at her comment and she feels instantly sick, but she doesn't retract.
"Let's show them to their quarters." Steve suggests softly. And they lead the new additions to the third floor where their rooms reside.
—-
Peggy stands in front of the mirror the next morning as Lorraine ties up her corset.
"Thank you." Peggy says, "it's been absolutely ridiculous on my own. I have no idea why they make us wait so long to receive our staff."
The woman's fingers tighten the laces, a knowing smirk on her face, "oh, the maids always think it's so the newlyweds get enough…. alone time in their new home, before other people start to intrude."
Peggy scowls. "We need no time alone. Thank you very much. I have no intentions of ever taking him to bed."
The woman's mouth parts in surprise and Peggy feels smug at having caught her off guard.
"Oh?" Lorraine says, "if it's not too impertinent, may I ask why not?"
Peggy pulls at the boning of the corset, "why bed a man I'm not attracted to, much less interested in? Such short stature and look at him. I was married off to a weak man of little substance. There's no laws requiring that we reproduce. And I wouldn't want to. So you will find there is at no point a time where we will need time alone."
They're hideous words. And most of it is a lie. But she must say them.
She's had multiple dreams of the way she shivered under the lightest of his touches and the color of his eyes with the intensity of his gaze on their wedding day.
It's unacceptable.
So, now that she has other ears, she knows how it works. She says it to the maid. The maid will tell the valet, and, given the smirk he had given her, she knows Steven will hear her words. Probably within days.
He's been polite and taken her barbs so far. But every man has their breaking point. Every man gives into their ego when pushed too far.
She just has to find the right pressure point.
—
Steve stands awkwardly as Thompson brushes the sleeves of his jacket.
"Sorry." Steve says, "I'm so used to getting ready on my own. I feel as if I won't have much for you to do."
"That's fine by me." The man responds, handing Steve the jacket and grabbing the shoes he's to wear today. "I'm only supposed to be here for a bit. The man who was supposed to be your valet fell through, so here I am."
Steve scrubs the back of his neck. "Does the law say how long we're supposed to have a valet? Do I have to keep one forever?"
"I'm not sure." He grabs the silk tie and begins tying it around Steve's neck. "I don't see why it would have to be required. I think they just assume everyone would want one."
"Not me." He says quickly, "no offense."
"None taken. I don't want to be in service forever."
He finishes the knot and quickly secures Steve's cuff links.
"I'll tell Coulson to pull around the carriage." Thompson says. "When you return from dinner, I'll have you measured for the new clothes you requested."
"Thank you. I don't want fancy clothes, just ones that fit."
"Very good, sir."
—
The carriage ride to the mayor's house is silent.
They greet the mayor and his wife and their three children.
They sit quietly as the mayor informs them of the public's expectations for them through the years.
Peggy doesn't listen. If she lasts a year, she will have failed and that is not an option.
Steve pays attention very seriously and it makes her furious. She calms her breathing and focuses on the feel of the armrest beneath her fingers.
"Every year on the anniversary of your marriage, there will be a short trip to see your tree at the Garden of Unity. You will also oversee the Village Fair and travel to Eporue to do the same there. They both take place in the spring. There will be other duties, however each year varies. Neither of you are required to have a field of profession but if you would like to retain a job, you are allowed. Do you have any questions?"
Steven looks at her and she ignores him. When neither of them speak, the mayor claps his hands and ushers them back out to the sitting room where they sit quietly as the mayor's wife speaks endlessly about her children.
—-
It infuriates her to no end that he's impossibly 'perfect'.
He leaves no trace of his existence outside of his coat (which is neatly placed on the coat rack or in the closet by the door). He never leaves his shoes out, or makes a mess.
He's impossibly quiet, especially when he knows she's within hearing distance, and he never so much as speaks to her unless he's asking her a question.
She wants to rip her hair out.
It's been almost two weeks in the house and she's been horrible to him everyday. And he has yet to even raise his voice at her. Usually he just stays quiet.
So far, she doesn't think her words to the maid have gotten through. So she has her hopes set on that.
—
He's miserable. She's horrible.
And yet. He knows something is off. Every time she says something awful to him, he notices that she studies his reaction. Trying to see what goads him on.
So he's taken to not responding at all, staying quiet and passive.
He once was whistling idly, and she yelled at him for being obnoxious.
So now, whenever he knows she's close, he doesn't speak. Or whistle. Or make noise at all.
Some part of him wonders why. Why not stand up to her. Why not respond to her horrid comments in equally horrible ways… but… that's just not him.
He knows she's unhappy and upset about the marriage. So is he.
He just hopes… hopes one day she gives him a chance to at least be friends.
He stares out the large windows in his art room, looking out at the leaves falling off the trees.
If not… if she chooses to act this way forever…
He sighs heavily… It's going to be a very long life.
—
"I'm heading to town." Steve tells Thompson, putting on his heavier coat, "I know we're not technically supposed to go until the ceremony tomorrow, but… I need to do something."
His valet nods, with a raised eyebrow.
Steve can't say he's entirely fond of the man. But he does his job and he does it well.
—-
She finds her way down to the kitchens, feeling hungry and runs into the cook as she bustles about.
"Excuse me?" She says briskly, "could I have some tea sent to the library?"
"Of course." The woman says with a smile, "Ms. Davies will bring it up when it's ready."
She heads up to the library and starts exploring the hundreds of volumes stacked upon the shelves. She was lucky as a child to have access to books, and a father who wanted her well-read. Her skirt swooshes against her ankles as she climbs the ladder to reach a large volume that looks promising when her eye catches a magnificently decorated book, facing outward on a stand.
The History and Expectations
of
Unified Newlyweds
A Complete and Extensive Overview of the Marriage Pact between Acerima & Eporue
She stares at the book and stretches to reach it. It's not dusty but she can tell it hasn't been opened in decades.
She climbs back down and settles into a large chair, opening the volume on her lap.
Lorraine brings the tea in and sets it at a side table.
Her eyes and fingers wander the pages and she notices that it includes all the marriages except the last two. So it's rather up to date.
She feels her eyes grow heavy as she drinks her tea and peruses the pages.
—-
Steve slips out of the carriage before he enters the town limits. The Unification House is set a few miles out of the town limits and he knows his carriage will be recognizable.
"I'll walk home." He tells Coulson who looks at him disapprovingly. "I promise, I'm not going to do anything in town. I just need to…" He trails off and sighs, "I'll be back before it's dark. No one will see me, okay?"
The man doesn't speak, just nods and turns the carriage around.
He avoids the Main Street, where the hustle and bustle of shops and shoppers can be heard. He slips, with practiced ease, between the beautiful stone and brick houses that line the parallel streets. He hides from a group of passersby and then makes his way further down.
Eventually the houses start to shrink in size and grandeur. He starts walking quicker and avoiding gazes as he knows he'll be recognized if they look close. He ducks into a yard, and walks between two small wooden houses, leading to a smaller street and then to a row of wooden houses that used to host miner's and their families but have now been converted mostly to railroad worker's homes.
He finds the right one and slips in through the back door. He walks into the kitchen and sighs at the familiar sight. He sinks into a kitchen chair and runs his fingers under the table. Familiar grooves from when he'd gotten a pocket knife from Bucky for his 8th birthday and started carving his name under the table.
His ma had been furious. But she'd never sanded it off.
He looks at the small stove, tiny ice box, and tidy dishes stacked on the open shelves. His chest aches at it.
Even though he hasn't lived here for a few years, not since he turned 18, he still associates it as home. He slowly stands up and walks to his old bedroom. A tiny square space with just enough room for a bed and a small dresser.
It's empty, other than the painting on the wall.
He steps inside, and pulls out the bottom drawer of the dresser. His father's old mining jumpsuit looks at him, his fingers run over the rough fabric. He then twists his wrists and finds the notch he'd carved in between the thick wooden drawers. His fingers touch the cool metal and he carefully extracts it from its hiding place.
He stares at his father's compass. One of the very few belongings of his father's he has.
He stands up, brushes off his pants and stuffs it into his pocket.
He steps out of the room and slips back out the back door. Trailing the streets in the shadows before he's free to walk down the path without any eyes.
—-
She hears the door open and she snaps awake.
She stands up, setting the volume down and walking towards the entrance.
He's there, taking off his coat and hanging his hat.
"Where have you been?" He looks up in surprise, almost glancing around to see if he's the recipient of her question, "yes you, are you losing your hearing? Where have you been?"
His face colors at her words and he runs a hand through his hair. "I took a walk."
"Oh." She says with an eye roll, "you took the carriage and had it drop you off so you could walk back?"
He stiffens and then glares at her, "yes."
"I don't like being lied to."
"You asked. I answered. I did walk. It's not a lie."
She huffs at him, switching tactics, "I hope this blasted ceremony is short tomorrow."
"It's just the town luncheon and the presentation of the plaque with our names and that's it. It's not a torture chamber."
"It might as well be." She snaps back.
He frowns at her and starts up the stairs.
"Are you going to get clothes that fit?" She shouts up at him, "or do you intend to look like an incompetent ninny forever?"
He halts on the stairs and turns slowly towards her.
"If you actually listened to anything I've said to you in the past 23 days we've been married, you would know that I asked if you were alright with me purchasing new clothes. You didn't answer when I asked, so I took it as a yes." She opens her mouth to respond but he cuts her off, "I did not use more than 50% of the stipend if that's what you are about to ask. You're free to spend your half however you choose. Now if you'll excuse me."
He's up the stairs and gone before she can respond.
She stomps back to the library.
—-
He takes a deep calming breath as he enters his room. He takes off his suit jacket, hanging it up neatly and sliding his suspenders off his shoulders. His new clothes should actually arrive sometime today, just in time for the ceremony tomorrow.
He gently unbuttons his shirt and slides it off. He stares at the mirror and grimaces at the sight. It's probably a good thing she has no intention of seeing him unclothed. He'd probably frighten her away anyways.
He goes to his wash room and cleans up, changing into more comfortable house clothes.
He walks out to the walkway, overlooking the main staircase and entryway.
Truthfully, the house is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. And the property it occupies is rich in flora and fauna. The money they receive each month is more than enough to live comfortably on, and he's eaten more food in the past 23 days than he feels like he's had access to for the past two years. Everything is wonderful.
Except… her.
—-
She wakes early for the ceremony. Bathing and washing her hair. She sets it to dry and applies oils to her entire body, relishing in the luxurious options she has available.
She hadn't realized how well the Unified Couple lived. It's a wry thought that she realizes everyone had been forced into a marriage. She supposes they have to try to make it worth their while.
Or… perhaps these were perks from Howard Stark. Whose relationship with her sham of a husband is still a mystery.
Lorraine appears with her dress and she nods that she's ready.
—
The black suit and rich leather shoes fit Steve perfectly. He sighs in relief at not having to re-wear his wedding suit. He eyes his new wardrobe in his dressing room. He hopes he stops growing soon, or… he'll have to do it all over.
He studies his reflection. He's taller than even on his wedding day.
He shoves the thought aside as Thompson enters.
The man whistles good naturedly and Steve chuckles.
"Trying to impress her today, sir?"
"Hmm?"
"Trying to get the wife to change her mind?"
Steve's eyebrows furrow, "I'm afraid I don't follow."
The man looks at him innocently, "I mean, if my wife told the maid she had no intentions of performing her wifely duties with me, I'd be upset too. Try to change her mind."
Steve feels his blood run cold, and he misses the smirk Thompson has on his face.
"I think it was quite rude of her to say those personal things about you so openly to a ladies maid."
"What things?" He asks quietly, his mind racing at what Thompson is saying.
"Oh, you know women. Horridly vain little things. I don't think you're too short or weak, sir. I think you are plenty attractive, even if she has mentioned the opposite. You know women. So fickle. Don't let her comments about you make any sort of impression, sir." Thompson says with a rough slap to the back, "I'm sure one day she'll come around. And if not, I'm sure there's a law somewhere about her responsibility to you as your wife. She needs to know her place, and that place is beside you in bed—"
"Stop." Steve snaps, finally coming to his senses. "Don't you ever say something like that again. Do you understand?"
The man reels back in surprise and his face goes flat.
"Of course, sir. It wasn't my place."
"No." Steve says flatly. "It wasn't."
The man nods curtly and leaves. Steve takes a deep shaky breath and sits on his bed. So she thinks him short and weak and unattractive…
He's not surprised, women have never been interested in him that way. What hurts is her blatant disregard for his feelings. Simply shouting her thoughts about him around the house and to the staff when she will barely even look at him.
He looks at his watch. They have to leave for town soon. The sun shifts behind a cloud and the room goes gray. He finds that to be fitting to his mood.
—
Peggy watches as Steve descends the stairs. She expects him to make an attempt at a cheery greeting or an inane question.
Instead he simply stands beside her, silent and avoiding eye contact as they wait for the carriage to pull in front of the house.
It's curious. She almost asks him what bee is in his bonnet when she glances back to see Lorraine and Thompson speaking in whispered tones with smirks on their faces.
And suddenly she knows her words have been passed along.
A sense of expectation fills her. He must be furious right now.
Her eyes flick to his face, studying the impassive stare he's wearing. But he refuses to look or even acknowledge her. She frowns. Well… it would be very ungentleman like to yell at your wife in front of the servants. So he must be waiting for the right time.
When the carriage pulls up in front, she watches as he stiffly walks to the door and pauses before climbing in.
He holds the carriage door.
He's holding the carriage door open for her.
She stomps past him and climbs gracefully inside before sitting down in a huff. He sits across from her, eyes out the window, hands tightly clenched in his lap.
One they've pulled away, she waits, expecting him to blow up at her, accuse her of her words, or throw equally heated barbs back in her direction.
What she does not expect is the complete and utter silence.
Or the way her heart tightens at the sad way he looks out at the countryside.
—
They make it through the ceremony without speaking a single word to each other.
They manage smiles as their plaque is hung on the wall in the City Square.
They don't touch hands as they pass the pen between each other as they write and sign their names in the 'Ledger of Marriages'.
She discovers that he's 21 years of age. Not quite two years older than her.
He's tight lipped and quiet, even when his mother and friends are present.
Peggy does not miss the concerned glances they send towards him.
She is given the official town tour, and while she'd never admit it, their town is actually quite beautiful, and almost on par with her home village.
But she will never admit that out loud.
Steven is being spoken to by the mayor when she feels a gentle hand on her elbow. She turns to find bright blue eyes and a handsome face staring at her.
"Hello, sorry to interrupt your thoughts. I'm James, I visited—"
"I remember." Peggy responds shortly.
"Right, of course. I just.. I was wondering if you had noticed anything off with Steve? Is he feeling okay?"
And instead of doing the kind thing, she rolls her eyes, "and how would I know that? I'm not his keeper."
She can see the surprise and then annoyance flash on his face, "since you live in the same residence, I thought you might happen to pay attention to the other residents. But I suppose someone as self-centered as yourself can't manage. My apologies for wasting your time."
And he walks away, leaving her standing there, mouth parted in shock.
—
A month passes.
A full month of being married and he grows more withdrawn each day.
He visits town sometimes. But his ma's, Bucky's, and Natasha's radiating concern for him makes it difficult to stick around long.
"I'll speak to her." Natasha says, a not subtle threat in her tone.
"You won't." Steve says firmly. He hasn't told them a thing. Not a single thing, and they haven't told him they know any details.
And yet he suspects somehow they do. If his valet knew his wife's words. That means her maid does. Which means all the maids do. Which means all the ladies do. Which means their husbands do. And so on and so forth until he realizes the entire town knows what his 'wife' thinks of him.
The looks of pity and reassuring hands on his shoulders grow oppressive. So he starts going to town even less.
—
She wakes.
Something… a noise she thinks. She slips out of bed, grabbing her robe and wrapping it around her. She opens her door and pads softly down the hallway until she notices the flicker of a flame. She follows the glow and stops short as she discovers what it is.
Steven, sitting on the stairs, except… one of his slippers is near the top of the stairs, and the other is at the bottom. The reflection of flames shine against shards of glass scattered on the lower half of the stairs and she can see a trail of water as it slides down towards the landing. He's a few steps down from the middle and clutching at his sides. The candle in its carrying vessel, is perched precariously on the ledge of one of the steps.
She hears a low groan and watches as his body gives a full shudder. His head tips back and the candle light illuminates his throat and the shaky breath he inhales.
Her brain tries to fill in the missing pieces… he must have… fallen down the stairs… or tripped coming up from the kitchens.
She almost speaks, almost asks if he's alright, but she stays in the shadows as he slowly hauls himself up using the railing. She watches as he begins to pick up the shards of glass. She slips away, the thick carpet hiding her footsteps and closes her door before he can learn of her presence.
She doesn't fall asleep for a long time. The image of him, clutching at his sides, keeping her awake.
—-