Dear Peggy,
I don't know if the weather has kept the post from you. The weather here has been dreadful, so I assume it's similar there.
I need to ask a question, and do not be upset when I ask this, because I know how defensive you get when you might be wrong. But your first letters… I could tell you were miserable. I felt for you, and I wished and prayed for a change in your situation, so that way you could live a happy life. Now it took a few more letters but I noticed a shift in your language, in the way you talked about your life. Could it be that Acimera is not so terrible as you described? Could a certain short blonde man have something to do with it?
Do not be vile with me, I know you will spit venom at merely the suggestion. However, I would love to hear that you are actually happy. I want nothing more for you, my dearest sister.
Following that route to happiness, Lily and I are to be married in the spring! I hope you and Steven can come?
Please write soon, mother is being a dreadful bore about the plans.
Yours,
Micheal
Peggy stares at the letter, the date on the top left denoting this as having been sent months ago. Before her accident, and before her descent into the frigid household tension that pervades every room.
Her fault, of course.
Steve has been the perfect gentleman. Never once even looked at her cross. But the truth is, is that he doesn't look at her at all. He avoids her at all costs and she watches in anguish as she's torn in two.
He told her he loved her. He said the sweetest things. That he wanted her.
And she rejected him.
So it stands to perfectly good reason that he would put distance between them. She should be glad. She should want that as well. Because she's planning on leaving.
But it's the most dreadful thing in her short existence.
Dear Michael,
… Truthfully I do not know where to begin. Life has changed multiple times since my last letter. And I have no words to express the disaster your sister has become. But I suppose… you of all people would listen and not judge me.
So I will be honest with you and only you.
And if you tell anyone (especially mother) I will walk to Eporue myself and knock your teeth out, understood? Good.
It does have to do with a certain someone. And he's not short anymore. I know that sounds ridiculous, but you'd barely recognize him if you saw him. It's a long story, but he's had quite the growth spurt. And I'll admit that I grew happy here. I love my house and most of the staff, and Steve is a wonderful house companion, truly. He's smart and humorous, and oh so kind it makes my heart ache. The village is actually quite nice and accommodating as well. It does remind me of home and yes our weather has been dreadful.
I… I had an incident with an ice pond, but I'm alright. Steve helped me and I am alright. I promise.
But I did something foolish and I hurt his feelings. Again. I know I've barely explained what I've been up to, because I prefer to tell you in person in case this letter falls into the wrong hands (mother). But I feel like I don't know what's right anymore.
You know good and well that the Unification Couple is required to go to all weddings. Don't be smart.
I have so much to tell you. Spare me a dance at your wedding and I'll fill you in.
Yours,
Peggy
—
Steve walks to the village. The snow has finally disappeared and spring is on it's way. He holds the few letters in his hands and the satchel over his shoulder that will hold the few supplies Ms. Nancy requested of him.
It's been quite a while since he's had enough time and ability to spend time in the village. He hopes to see Bucky and his ma.
—
The town is bustling as shopkeepers wash their windows and set out their wares, getting things ready for the day. He walks to the post office and pays for postage. He barely pays attention as his feet lead him to the grocer, then the bakery, and finally the dry goods shop.
He stores his purchase behind the counter for a small fee and walks to his ma's house.
He knocks and when she doesn't answer, he walks around to the back, using the hidden spare key. He ducks under the doorway (a lesson he's learned multiple times the painful way) and sighs at the empty house. She must have been called into an emergency. He keeps his eyes from looking at the fireplace, turning and locking the door again, storing the key back in its hiding place.
He makes his way to Bucky's place and knocks.
He hears bickering and he smiles. The door opens wide and Bucky looks at him, mouth dropping open, "Holy hell you're huge now!"
Steve laughs, "I haven't grown since her accident."
"Steve, I haven't seen you since before that!"
Steve pauses, mentally calculating the time, "really?"
Bucky huffs, "yes, really. Your mother said something happened but she wouldn't let me come over, and then we had all those storms. It's been ages! You're giant."
Steve shrugs, "It's strange. I know."
"Oh my!" Steve's eyes find Natasha who has just come out from the kitchen, "Steve!"
He groans, "I know, I'm giant. Bucky has informed me."
She blinks and then shakes her head, "I heard rumors, but it's nothing like seeing it in person! You're sure you're okay?"
Steve shrugs, "I feel better than ever. Watch—" he pulls out a coin and a little shyly, bends it in half, before straightening it out.
They stare in shock and Steve ducks his head, "I asked Howard, he said that whatever procedure it was worked better than they could have hoped."
"But… that was years ago, why now?"
His cheeks go red, "I needed to eat more."
Bucky gapes, eyes sad, "you're saying you could have been thins big after Anthony if you'd had more food?"
Steve nods, "That's what Howard realized. I don't know. He says a lot of science things that go over my head."
"That would be hard to do now." Natasha says with a smirk.
"Ha-ha." Steve says with a frown.
"How's the missus taking the change?"
Steve keeps his face impassive, but the rejection sears through his heart. "She doesn't really care." Liar. His mind says. She wants to kiss you now. He grits his teeth and then unclenches it just as quickly. "We're still working on a solution."
Both of them stare at him, and he smiles, making sure to think of something happy so that way the smile reaches his eyes. They know him too well for a half lie to get past them. He has to sell it. He has to believe it.
Natasha shakes her head, "too bad. Her loss."
Bucky glares at her but Steve just laughs, "you're saying you'd leave Bukcy for me now?"
Natasha laughs, "please, that would make me shallow. But no, sadly this fool has my heart." She gently kisses Bukcy's cheek before heading out the back door.
"When's the wedding?" Steve asks, ignoring Bukcy's investigative glare.
"May 25th,"
Steve nods, "okay, that's good. Peggy's brother has a wedding in April. I'm going to dread wedding season. Being required to go to all of them is tiring."
"I guess they assume since you don't have jobs you have the time."
Steve scrunches his nose, "I'd rather work."
Bucky laughs, "only you would prefer manual labor over nice parties with good food."
That makes Steve laugh and he looks around the small house. "I miss this."
Bucky eyes him doubtfully, "you live in a mansion and you miss this little box of wood?"
Steve rolls his eyes, "yeah, Buck. I do. I miss living with you."
Bucky looks at him seriously, "what happened?"
Steve's eyebrows pull down, "what do you mean?"
"You were crowing about this girl the last time we really had a chance to talk. Now you miss living with me?"
Steve shakes his head, "it's' nothing like that. I just miss when life was simple."
Bucky shoves his shoulder, "when life was simple, you were wheezing and half dead 6 months out of the year."
Steve lets out a weak chuckle, "yeah, I guess that's true."
—-
Peggy hears him get home and resists the urge to ask how his trip was. She stays in her chair in the library and continues taking her notes.
Lorrain takes her empty teacup and the next thing Peggy knows, she hears Lorraine's voice in the entryway."
"Mr. Rogers, how was the trip?"
"It was fine, thank you."
"You're the sweetest to get these items for Ms. Nancy and save Mr. Coulson the trip."
A brief pause where Peggy can picture the brief flush of Steve's cheeks at the compliment. "Oh, it was no trouble. Just doing what needed to be done."
"I've never worked for a more kind master of the house."
"Oh, uh-" Peggy bristles at the sickly sweet tone that Lorraine is using to flirt.
"Mr. Rogers, i was wondering something?"
"Yes?" Steve's voice is a bit strained and Peggy wonders how close Lorraine is standing.
"You bake such divine things, would you teach me sometime? I would be honored to learn from you."
"Oh—" there's genuine surprise in his voice, "uh, yeah, alright."
Peggy seethes in her chair.
"Wonderful!" Lorraine says gleefully, "you're too kind. How does tomorrow morning after breakfast sound?"
"Yeah, I can do that."
"Thank you, Mr. Rogers, you are a true gentleman."
Peggy hears Lorraine walk away and she waits, wondering what he'll do. She hears a sigh and then follows the sound of him walking up the stairs.
She has to keep reminding herself of why she's choosing to leave. But the reasons are starting to wear thin.
—
Steve stands in the kitchen, ingredients on the wooden counter and his hands fidgeting with the apron strings behind his back. He'd asked Ms. Nancy if she minded the kitchen being used, almost hoping the woman would turn him away, but she'd happily waved him inside and pulled out whatever ingredients she thought he might need, pointing out the butter in the larder and eggs in the icebox.
He pulls out mixing bowls and baking pans, stoking the fire in the oven and then fiddling with the mixing spoons as he waits.
—-
Peggy creeps down the stairs, careful to avoid any sound as she makes her way to the opening that leads to the kitchen. She lodges herself behind the large silverware bureau and the large window with the thick curtain. She feels ridiculous, and it doesn't stop her in the least.
"— oh really? That's amazing. Where did you learn this?"
"My ma taught me most everything I know, but when I was sick, I would stay home and practice. Helped me learn a lot of things I got to end up teaching her."
"That is perfectly adorable. You're incredibly masterful with your hands."
Peggy wants to gag.
"So next, to ensure the butter doesn't melt too quickly, you'll need to fold the layers over and over, that's what helps create those layers in the pastry dough."
Peggy listens as Steve very dutifully instructs Lorraine on proper pastry etiquette, while Lorraine hangs on every word and takes every opportunity to through some sickly sweet compliment his way.
"What would you like the filling to be?" She hears Steve asks, sounding as if he was kneading dough with his hands.
"Hmm. I think chocolate, I love chocolate."
She hears Stvee laugh, a genuine relaxed laugh that makes Peggy's stomach clench, "smart choice, chocolate croissants are a delightful creation."
"I can't wait to try one when they're finished!" And it almost makes Peggy more angry that Lorraine seems genuinely pleased and excited with their work.
That could be you. You're the fool here. Her mind shoots at her.
She grimaces from her hiding place, I know.
They work in a tantalizing silence until she hears Steve's voice come through the opening sounding excited, "I think they're ready to proof!"
"I can't believe the intensity of this process." Lorrain ways with a soft laugh, "your skill at it is amazing. You should open a bakery?"
And instead of Steve waving off that notion, she hears him pause, "you really think so?"
Lorraine giggles, Peggy's eyes widen at the girlish sound, "of course I think so! You just made taught me to make chocolate croissants! And I've had your pies and muffins before, not to mention those cookies you made a while back. I bet people would pay good money for it!"
Steve chuckles, "I don't think the bakery in town would be too pleased."
"Mr. Stane is a grouch and the town would be happy to give someone else business! He charges way too much for his bread anyways. Don't deny it!"
Steve laughs again, and Peggy's heart aches at the familiarity they share of having grown up in the same area.
"He does charge a lot. That's another reason my ma and I made our own stuff. Couldn't afford to buy it."
Lorraine's voice gets soft, Peggy has to strain to hear, "I know what that's like. I've had many a lean winter with 5 sisters and three brothers."
"That's a lot of siblings!" Steve says in surprise, "where do you fall in the line up?"
"I'm right in the middle." She says with a wry laugh, "always had to fight to get noticed!"
And suddenly it makes sense to Peggy her tactics.
"Well," Steve says, his voice getting that earnest quality, "as long as we're able to pay your salary, hopefully that can help avoid those lean winters."
Peggy's throat goes dry at the kind words.
"Thank you, Mr. Rogers."
"You can call me Steve, you know that. I've said it a million times." He laughs and she laughs back.
"Okay. Steve." She can tell by the silence that he's surprised she took him up on his offer finally. "But only if you start calling me Lorraine."
"Oh no, I couldn't—"
"Come on, we've made pastries together, we will probably end up doing a lot of other things together. I think you can call me by my first name if I get to use yours."
She laughs, a laugh that makes Peggy's spine straighten. Her fingers clutch the thick curtains at the mention of other things they'll supposedly do together.
—-
Her brother's wedding approaches and they load up the carriage. Peggy happily informs Lorraine she won't be needed on the journey much to the maids dismay. Thompson stays behind as well when Peggy informs Steve he's welcome to use the valet they have at her house. Mr. Coulson is agreeable to drive the carriage and they set off on a cool spring day.
—
The journey starts to wear as their conversation is mainly items of necessity, or comments on the weather. Steve offers no topics and Peggy can't bring herself to force him to speak to her.
After their croissant lesson, Steve and Lorraine have had three more such lessons. Each one more aggravating than the last as Lorraine's wheedles her way into getting to know Steve and she watched as Steve began to truly relax around Lorraine.
She has no right to be angry about their blossoming friendship.
And yet she's furious.
—-
Steve's eyes widen as they pull up to her childhood home. She's seen his childhood home. The difference is night and day and it almost makes Peggy bristle in discomfort, knowing Steve grew up half starved and she never wanted for a single thing.
He makes no mention of it though.
The servants are waiting to greet them and her old butler greets her with a warm smile.
Mrs. Rogers, it's lovely to see you."
She feels Steve stiffen behind her in the carriage, as she's never allowed anyone to call her that past the wedding date. But she says nothing, not wanting to embarrass either man. "Falsworth, I've missed you terribly!"
The man smiles at her and helps her out of the carriage fully, ensuring she's on flat ground before releasing her hand. Steve begins to emerge, and Peggy winces at the surprise on his face. He obviously had only heard Steve's initial description. She suddenly worries about her family's inability to keep their mouths shut about gossip such as this. Her mother would have a conniption about Steve's change, pestering him with questions.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Rogers. Welcome to Carter Manor."
Steve smiles easily, a good head above Falsworth, "Thank you for the warm welcome." He extends his hand and Falsworth looks at it in surpirse before slowly extending his hand to return the gesture.
While Steve waves him off and unloads the trunks himself, Falsworth gives her a incredibly unsubtle raised eyebrow and Peggy frowns at him. He laughs quietly and then begins to have the rest of the servants carry the rest of the items in.
—
They enter the large double doors and Peggy hears her mother before she sees her.
"Margaret!"
She turns, seeing her dressed up as if for a ball. "Hello mother." She embraces her mother and father, and then quickly turns to Steve, "you remember Steve."
It's worse than she can imagine. They stare, wide eyes and mouths gaped like fish as Steve shifts uneasily under their piercing stares.
"Hello, Mr. Carter, Mrs. Carter." Steve says, tipping his head forward in a gesture of respect she's never seen him do to anyone before.
Her father recovers first, "My, you've… you've grown quite a bit since we saw you at the wedding."
Steve swallows thickly, "yes, sir. I have."
Her mother is still staring.
"Mother." Peggy says behind gritted teeth, "You of all people hate rudeness."
That snaps her to attention, "My! Steven, it's a pleasure to see you again. You look very well. How was the journey?"
Steve nods and relaxes a fraction, "thankfully it was uneventful."
"Wonderful." Her mother says, striding forward and roping Steve by his arm, "let me take you two to your bedrooms so you can wash the travel off you and get prepared for supper! Michael and Lily will be here to join us."
"That's wonderful." Steve says calmly, allowing himself to be towed forward, "I look forward to meeting her and seeing Michael again."
Peggy hears her mother start talking a mile a minute about the wedding as they walk up the stairs and away from Peggy and her father.
"So." Her father says, his eyebrow matching the one she can feel Falsworth still has standing behind her.
"So." Peggy says crisply, following after her mother and Steve.
—-
Her mother is showing Steve around her bedroom when it finally dawns on her, and she can tell it dawns on Steve as well.
One bed.
Their last encounter in a bed together flashes through her mind. The way his heat banished the chill. The way she touched him. The way he asked her to stay.
The way she said no.
His eyes stay firmly on her mother as she points out all the things they might need, a smile on his face, but she knows him now. His shoulders are tense and his jaw is held a tad too tight. His eyes never look at the bed.
She sighs. This will be a long trip.
—
Because it's not the master suite, her bedroom does not have a dressing room or her own bathroom. It's just down the hall.
"I can go change in the bathroom." Steve says hoarsely. Holding one of the suits he'd brought for the fancier dinners.
She huffs, "and make the maids start gossiping about you changing in the bathroom? Absolutely not."
"Your family doesn't know…?" He asks, his eyes on the suit in his hands.
"My father is on the Council of Appeals. If they knew what we were trying to do, it would go over very poorly. So no, I haven't told them. The only person who knows is Angie, who should be here soon."
"So, you're okay if I change here?"
She sighs, "Steve, if you don't remember, we've both been in relative states of undress before."
He nods, and sets the suit on the bed, starting to pull at the silk tie around his neck. She suddenly busies herself with gathering her own dress for dinner and contrary to her own words, feels very self conscious as she begins to pull off her traveling close.
Her peripheral catches him without a shirt on, and somehow his broad chest covered in those scars makes her breath catch in awe. Her fingers clench at her skirts. His head shifts to her and she pretends to be pulling on her thin stockings.
She turns her back to him and slips off her shirt, leaving most of her skin bare. The skirt goes next and she blinks.
"Steve?"
"Yes?"
"Would you mind?" She hears him turn towards her and his throat catch at the sight of her in just her corset and underskirt. "I would have Angie, but she's not due till the morning."
"Oh. Of course."
She resists the urge to look at his cheeks, knowing they'll be flushed. The warmth radiates from his fingers as he deftly unties the corset and the steps back, no accidental touches this time.
"Thank you." She whispers.
He does not respond.
She slips out of that corset and tries not to blush herself as she changes into the proper undergarments as quickly as she can. She knows he's not looking, but she still rushes.
Then it's the corset again.
"I'm very sorry." She says with a wince, "but… would you mind?"
His voice is quiet, "sure."
Lacing up a corset requires a lot more work than unlacing one.
His hands work quickly, but make much more contact as he pulls each string tightly.
"Tighter," she whispers, "please."
He grips her waist, holding her steady, sending fire through her veins as he uses his other hand to tighten the top strands. Working his way down until she's snuggly held. He ties the final knot and clears his throat, "is that alright?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Of course."
—-
She tries to keep the way his hand felt on her waist off her mind as she pinned up her hair and applied a light rouge.
—-
Steve steps out of the room and walks back down the stairs and out the front doors, getting some air as he tries to ignore the way holding her felt.
—
Peggy can tell her letter's description of the change in Steve did not do it justice as her brother practically choked on his hello upon catching sight of Steve.
"Hello Pe— bloody hell!"
Peggy winced, "Hello to you too Michaell, what a welcome."
But her brother didn't respond, still staring up at Steve who was standing there with a hesitant expression on his face.
So Peggy gestured towards Lily, "nice to see you again Lily, this is Steve."
The petite woman, who has never seen Steve before but had obviously heard his description, smiles shyly at Steve and then laughs softly, "nice to meet you."
Steve nods his head, "nice to meet you too." He looks at Michael, "nice to see you again."
Michael laughs, "My goodness, you weren't lying in your letter, Pegs."
Steve's brow furrows and Peggy has to resist the urge to elbow Michael very hard in the ribs. "Yes, well I'm not a liar." She says with a tight smile, "shall we head in to dinner?"
—
Dinner goes more smoothly than any dinner has ever gone in the Carter household before. Other than Michael glancing at her with a shocked expression every two minutes.
Steve and Lily hit it off famously. Both having grown up relatively poor and with single mothers. Peggy smiles softly as they talk about their childhoods and when Steve makes Lily laugh telling a story of he and Bucky getting stuck up a tree, Peggy wonders how many lovey family dinners they could all have together if she wasn't so set on leaving…
—-
"He's just divine." Lily whispers at her as the men talk about the horrible storms they had in both villages.
Peggy smiles weakly, "he is."
Lily looks at her curiously, "Michael hasn't told me anything, I promise, but he did hint that maybe you weren't so happy at the beginning? Which of course… given the circumstances, I could understand. But it seems like you were a lucky one, kind and incredibly handsome. You hit the lottery."
Her heart aches, "I am very lucky to have gotten to know Steve." She says honestly, "at first I was so against getting to know anyone, because I was so frustrated at having been forced but…" she looks over at Steve who is listening intently to her father, "I know that I am luckier for having known him."
Lily eyes her, "you say that as if…" the woman pauses, unsure how to word her statement.
But Peggy is saved by her mother, "I believe we all need to get our beauty sleep for the rehearsal and dinner tomorrow."
They are shooed out of the room by her mother and they all head to their separate bedrooms. Lily is taken home and Michael sees her off.
Steve walks to the bedrooms and they stand there awkwardly for a moment before Steve says, "I can sleep on the floor."
She frowns, but does not argue, "Wherever you feel most comfortable."
He doesn't respond. Just begins getting undressed. She follows suit.
—-
It's after she's crawled into bed she realizes she's going to have a problem. She doesn't have Howard's device, and she didn't ask for the fire to be stoked and kept blazing.
She slowly grabs her rope from where it hangs on the bed posts and pulls it around her, trying to retain her warmth. Thankfully it's much warmer than in winter, but the spring chill still aggravates her body's still healing temperature control.
She hears him fall asleep and she relaxes, letting herself shiver now that he won't hear.
She falls asleep, her teeth chattering slightly.
—-
Steve wakes to a whimper. He sits up, blearily rubbing at his eyes and slightly disoriented as he tries to remember why he's on the ground.
He hears a chattering sound and his head tilts in confusion. He waits until he hears it again and then peeks over the bed.
Peggy's eyes are closed, but she's shivering and her jaw is tight.
His heart clenches. Wanting to wrap her in his arms and keep away the cold. He lays back, eyes squeezed shut as he hears her continue to shiver in her sleep.
—-
She gasps awake, the cold room and bed bringing back the nightmares for the first time in weeks. She's full on shivering, heart beating wildly as she gasps for air.
"Peggy?" She jumps, startled at the voice, "are you alright?"
She turns, finding Steve sitting up, eyes wide and concerned. She nods, her throat tight, "I'm fine," She rasps, "Sorry to wake you."
There's a weighted pause while she tries to still her shivering.
His voice is sad, "you're cold, aren't you?"
She hates the shiver that tells the truth while her mouth tells the lie, "I'll be alright."
She ignores the way he takes a deep breath, "would you… Do you need me to…" he can't seem to finish his offer and she shakes her head.
"No, you don't have to do that. Thank you for offering though." She lays back down, trying to take quiet deep breaths and rubbing at her arms to get some warmth back in them.
Her heart skips a beat as she feels the weight of him join her on the bed. "I'm not going to let you freeze if I can help." His voice says firmly.
She wants to cry at the immediate warmth she feel seep under the covers and towards her.
"Thank you." She whispers, "truly."
She feels him nod, and she snuggles under the blankets, not touching him, but relishing in the warmth he brings.
—
She wakes feeling warm and comfortable and relaxed, even more so than with the machine Howard has given her.
She blinks her eyes open and goes deadly still at the way her nose is pressed against his side. She then registers the way his arm is wrapped around her waist, holding her close. She relishes in the touch, missing him in a way she can't even begin to describe. She looks up and he's still asleep. And it's terribly selfish of her, but she just snuggles closer, wrapping her arm over him, resting her hand softly on top of his chest and closing her eyes, falling into sleep once more.
—-
Steve comes back into consciousness to a small gasp. He yawns and looks at the ceiling, catching movement in his peripheral. He lifts his head and sees a woman standing there, a pile of towels in her hand and her eyes trained on Steve.
Self-consciousness at the way his half naked body covered in scars in on full display, he feels his collar flush, extra heat radiating off of him. Which is when he hears a sigh.
His eyes widen further as Peggy sighs and shifts, drawing his attention to the fact that she's wrapped around him. Her hand and arm on his chest, her leg resting over his and her face pressed against his side.
The woman scurries out of the room and Steve groans. Although I suppose it wasn't an usual thing, people thought they were actually living as a married couple here.
But the woman gasped.
Which means she was surprised to see them together.
He winces. Angie.
The woman who had told Peggy to make Steve miserable.
He leans back and slowly extracts himself from her grasp. He slips off the bed and grabs his shirt, quickly slipping it on and looking at Peggy who has developed a frown on her face. He watches with longing as her hand moves along the sheets, as if it is searching for something.
—
Peggy knows something is wrong the minute she wakes. Steve is out of the bed but he's looking anxious.
"Steve?" She asks, "what's wrong?"
"It's nothing." He says, glancing at the door.
"It's obviously not nothing," she answers with yawn, happy that the fire is going.
The fire is going.
"Oh bloody hell, did Angie come in here already?"
He nods, "I think so."
She groans and leans back on the bed.
—-
She rolls her eyes at the way Angie looks at her after Steve has left to bathe.
"I thought you were trying to kick him to the street." The woman says, "you sure changed your tune the way you were wrapped around him this morning."
"Wrapped!" Peggy shrieks, "I was not wrapped."
"You were from my eyeline. And my oh my what a sight he is. I guess I can understand why you'd give up your goal, he is quite the treat on the eyes."
Peggy seethes, "I have not given up. We're still working on a solution."
"Working." Angie says flatly, brushing out Peggy's hair, "seems like you're doing more than working together."
"For your information," Peggy says crisply, "we have done nothing of the sort."
Angie's eyes widen, "You mean you have yourself wrapped around that giant hunk of muscle and you haven't taken him to bed?"
Peggy glares at her through the mirror, "you of all people know I'm planning on being home soon. No point in it."
Angie scoffs, "the point would be to have some fun with that—"
"Please." Peggy snaps. "Don't."
Angie falls silent but the calculating look in her eye tells Peggy she hasn't heard the last of it.
"What are those scars from?" Angie asks quietly, "I could see a bit of them. They look terrible painful."
Peggy sighs, "thankfully they don't cause him pain. He…" she swallows thickly, staring at the bed through the mirror, should she tell Steve's story when he hasn't even told her? "He made a very large sacrifice and it cost him a lot. But thankfully he is okay now."
Angie's brow is furrowed but she doesn't press.
—-
The rehearsal goes smoothly and Steve offers to help arrange the tables and chairs with the servants. He looks up to see Peggy looking at him softly, she stiffens as he catches her, looking away quickly, and he has to shake his head to get the image of her hand resting on his chest this morning out of his head.
—-
He is placed across from Peggy at the rehearsal dinner and when she gives a sweet and short speech in Michaels honor, Steve finds himself swept away in her voice and the silly and endearing way she teases him while still showering him with well wishes and obvious pride.
—
The next night, Peggy doesn't suggest it, but Steve settles into the bed, this time in a sleep shirt, and Peggy thanks him quietly.
"Of course." He says quietly. She's noticed that he uses this phrase. As if he's surprised by their thanks. As if helping is natural and he would never consider anything else.
She does her best to keep her distance. When she wakes in the morning her back is pressed against his and she smiles. That's acceptable.
—
Lily looks positively radiant as she walks down the aisle. And Peggy is pleasantly surprised to see genuine tears of happiness fall down her mother's cheeks.
Peggy knows that after she was forced into marriage, her mother was not opposed to Michael wanting to marry Lily. At least one of her children would have a choice. And when Michael had written to her to tell her that their mother had said that, Peggy had practically fallen off her chair in shock. But she was happy for them, truly.
Steve stands by her side as they walk down the aisle, officially husband and wife. She resists the urge to grab his hand.
Peggy watches as Steve dances with Lily and then his mother, and then another guest, some childhood friend of Lily's and she desperately wishes he would dance with her.
Michael comes over and extends his hand. She accepts and they start swaying softly to the strings.
"You said you had a lot to inform me of?" Her brother asks softly.
"I do." She says back, "I hope this is a long song." She laughs softly and then begins her long tale.
She tells him of her anger (which he already knew) then her finding out about the possibility of being free, and how she was horrible to Steve. She even told him some of the worst things she said about him, which makes Michael gape at her and she frowns, "I know, I was awful." She whispers, "but at that time I didn't know him and I was so focused on getting home."
Then she tells him about finding Steve in distress and then the whole bathtub incident.
"Scars?" Michael asks, his face incredulous.
Peggy nods, "huge scars, I couldn't believe them they cover huge parts of his chest and legs,"
"What are they from?"
"I'm getting there, hush."
Someone tries to steal Michael away from her as the song ends, but they leave the dance floor, walking to the veranda, getting some air. She shivers.
She then tells him about their tenuous friendship and how they were really getting along just fine until her fall through the ice. She goes into detail about what happened and he gasps in surprise at all the harrowing moments.
Then she tells him of Steve's rescue and dedication to keeping her warm. Michael's eyes find Steve who is laughing with their father and a few of his old wartime friends.
"And then after that, we got really close." She stops, looking out at the stars, "He asked me to stay. He told me he loves me."
Michael looks on in disbelief at the story she's told him. But she sighs, "I've been against the unification for so long. I am still against the unification. And everyone knows that, even if they don't know I've been actively trying to tear down a 700 year old tradition. So it's hypocritical to stay married to him, and fight the tradition at the same time. Once I find a solution that the council accepts. I'm coming home."
Michael's brow furrows, "But you love him." She freezes, and her brother laughs, "please, Peggy, I've known you since you were born, you think I can't tell?"
"I can't."
He frowns at her, "what do you mean?"
"I can't love him. It's not fair to him."
"You're a fool."
She glares at him. Not that she necessarily disagrees.
"Imagine what everyone would say if they knew I actually loved the person I'd been forced to marry."
"Peggy." Michael laughs, "you do love him. I fail to see the problem other than your pride." She glares at the sky and he rests a hand on her shoulder. "Take my advice. You love him, and he loves you, and I honestly couldn't have wished for a better man for you. Don't waste that. Forget what anyone would say. Who cares about the smug council and their stupid rules? You never have, so don't start now. Take the amazing situation you've been given, and live."
"It's not that easy."
Her brother groans, "you're as pigheaded as mother you know that?"
Peggy punches his arm then, "you take that back Michael Benjamin Carter!"
"It's true, Margaret Elizabeth Carter! Or should I say Margaret Elizabeth Rogers?"
The name sends a thrill through her that she forces herself to ignore.
"I'll think about it." She says quietly, and when he tilts his head with an exasperated sigh, she laughs, "I will think about it."
"I hope you do."
—-
It's their last night at her home and Peggy is unpinning her hair. Steve is sketching something on a thick piece of paper that she hadn't known he'd brought. She carefully removes her lipstick and her rouge and glances at him often as he works, so focused on tasks.
She hasn't had the opportunity to watch him work for a long time and she lets her curiosity grow as he works.
"What are you drawing?" She asks softly, when she watches him pause.
"A wedding gift.' He responds, his eyes still on the paper.
"But we gave them a gift." She says, puzzled.
"I know, but…" he looks up at her sheepishly, "I just wanted to do something else."
Peggy smiles, "can I see?"
He slowly turns it to her and she gasps, it's a sketch of Lily and Michael, dancing during the reception. The way Steve has sketched the crowd and the flowers and the details makes her want to run her fingers over the delicate lines.
"It's gorgeous." She whispers, "they're going to love it."
He blushes but smiles, and his shoulders drop in relief, "you think so?"
"I do."
"That's a relief to know." He sets back to work, and she settles under the covers, still watching as he lights another candle for more light.
She must doze off, because she doesn't remember him coming to bed, just knows at some point the heat of him warms her and she falls deeper into unconsciousness.
—
She does think about it. On the carriage ride home. In the library when she's supposed to be reading. At meals when Steve is there. At meals when Steve isn't there.
At night when Howard's machine keeps her warm but not in the way she wishes to have warmth.
Lorraine steps up her flirting.
Peggy watches as her hair changes to something a bit more fashionable, and her lips start being painted just a touch pink. Then she's asking Steve for another baking lesson and he's agreeing and Peggy is really really thinking about it.
Peggy goes to her usual hiding spot and listens as Steve describes the way to ensure a perfect crust on a loaf of Sourdough bread.
"Steve?" Lorraine asks, "why doesn't Miss Carter like it here?"
Her blood runs cold, the little—
"What?" Steve's voice is hoarse as the question catches him off guard.
"I just… she was so clear about wanting to leave in the beginning, and I know she still intends too, but…" Lorraine heaves a sad sigh that is such a perfect performance it makes Peggy want to drag her fingernails down the wall, "you're so kind and sweet and giving, I don't understand how she could not want you."
It's deadly silent and Peggy's eyes are clenched closed so tightly she's seeing stars.
"I—" Steve's voice cuts off, and Lorraine cuts back in.
"It's a beautiful house, and she has everything she wants provided for her, and you're here. Even without all the extra things, I just…" Lorraine's voice gets soft, "I know it's too forward of me to say, but if I was in her shoes, I would stay."
Peggy has to duck, dropping to hide as Lorraine walks out of the kitchen and past her.
She can't see him, but she knows he's as frozen in place as she is. Both of them reeling from the words Lorraine spoke.
—-
When Lorraine is helping her out of her corset that night, it takes everything in her power to not yell at the woman and inform her just what she thinks of her tactics.
But it's Steve's haunted expression at breakfast that solidifies it for her.
—
Dear Michael,
I have done a lot of thinking and I've come to the conclusion that you are right. I have been pigheaded and I think I might want to give it a try… Even writing those words gives me a sense of joy! I can't wait to see his response. It's selfish of me, but I'll be selfishly happy at how happy he will be. He once said he chose me. And I told him I didn't choose him. But now I do. I choose him. And I can't wait to tell him that!
Don't be too smug about this, I'll not have you rubbing this in my face, now I—
She hears a loud crash and her hand jolts, splashing ink across the letter. She stands up, and walks out to the stairways,
"Is everything alright?" She asks loudly.
Ms. Nancy comes puttering out, "I'm so sorry miss! The silver miss-balanced and I dropped a few of the servingwares against the stove, I promise I'll have them cleaned and polished."
"Don't worry about that, are you alright?"
"I am, Miss Carter."
"Okay, would you like help cleaning up?"
"No, no, I've got it, thank you."
Peggy nods and walks back to her room. She sighs at the ruined letter and crumples it into her wastebasket. She grabs a fresh sheet and starts again.
—
Steve's sleeping when he hears his door open. He doesn't fully wake until someone is joining him on the bed. His nose smells what his eyes in the darkness cannot see. Peggy's perfume.
He starts to sit up, but warm hands press him back, "shh." The voice says in barely a whisper, "I want to stay."
The words send his heart racing, and then she's exploring his skin and gripping his chest, kisses trailing around his neck and jaw and against his chest.
He's about to stop her, to ensure he heard correctly when she kisses his lips, and he goes stiff.
Those are not Peggy's lips.
He pushes back, scrambling away and panting in adrenaline. And as he sits up, he suddenly knows he's been tricked.
"Lorraine." He says hoarsely, "what are you doing?"
"Showing you what devotion looks like. Treating you like a husband should be treated." She reaches for him, her hands grasping his arm. He yanks it away, scrambling off the bed.
"Stop." He says firmly, "you need to leave." But Lorraine lights a candle and turns to face him. She keeps her eyes on him as she begins to draw her nightgown over her head. He slams his eyes shut, turning the other way. "Stop, Lorraine, nothing is going to happen between us. You need to leave."
He hears her get off the bed, but he keeps his eyes closed, just listening, hoping to hear his door open and close again.
Except she doesn't leave. She wraps her arms around his torso, pressing her undressed front to his back, making his spine go ramrod straight and a choked gasp escapes him. He tries to pull her hands away from him. "Stop," he says again, "please stop." He uses more force, getting her hands loose and stepping out of her grasp.
"Steve, she doesn't want you. She doesn't want to stay. I do. I'm choosing you. I'll give you everything you could ever want in a marriage."
Her hands touch his bare back and he yanks away, trying not to stumble with his eyes closed.
"Lorraine," he says, trying to stay calm, "If I gave you the wrong impression—" he can hear her moving around him, to his front. "—I didn't mean to. There's not going to be anything between us—" he's about to ask her to leave again when her hands find him through his thin shorts. He jerks back, almost tripping over his feet as he tries to get away from her. "Get out." He seethes, anger rising, "get out right now."
"Steve, you're fighting against something you don't need to fight! She's leaving anyway, be with me."
"I don't want you." He says in a harsh whisper, furious and embarrassed, "get out of my room."
And this time she listens.
He sags to the ground, head resting on his knees and jaw tight.
—-
Peggy hears a knock. He hears a second knock and sits up, looking at the windows to find it's still dark. Confused, she's about to lay back when she hears the sound of paper rustling. She gropes for the candle at her bedside and lights it.
She walks to her door and sees a small slip of paper.
He's not what you think.
If you don't believe me, come to his room.
The handwriting is clearly Lorraine's and it makes her stomach flip in dread.
She grabs her robe, curiosity winning over level headed thinking.
Peggy turns the corner, hesitation causing her to pause at the flicker of candlelight she can see under the door frame. She waits a few minutes, trying to decide what to do, until the door opens and she snuffs out her candle, hiding in the darkness.
Her blood runs cold as Lorraine steps out of his room, a candle held in front of her face. Peggy can see the pleased smirk and the smudged lipstick from her hiding spot.
But the worst part is that Lorraine is naked. Carrying her nightgown in her hand.
—-