#and say yeah smart yet foolish of you to pretend to be a maid and change your accent

[beedreamscape]

SO! I want false alarm Lady Whistledown discovery by Colin. BUT just because I really really want him to hear her using her Irish accent.

He's gonna catch her walking around the city street market and be like 'what on earth you're doing here on your own, Pen?' and she has to play it cool, say she's there for something she can't get uptown and he's like 'yeah Penelope wouldn't be doing anything wrong'.

It would also reason why he's following her when he does find out, cause 'oh there she is, my darling friend going shopping in skeevy places again, better accompany her bc it's dangerous' then she changes the route into the church and it gets real suspicious. Instead of just having him follow her for no reason other than spy on what she's doing which is not cuuuute.

And because I want her doing the Irish accent again!!!!!!

[clove-teasdale]

truths & lies

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

A/N: not a challenge. OKAY Y’ALL, this takes place the same day as THIS FIC from @brooks-schreave  but at night. if u want context re-read that. not entirely necessary if u remember what happened but leaving it there anyway. I hope this wasn’t too bad and I made it justice. thanks grace for the rp <3 ft. my guards and brooks. also, I needed a name at one point and was uncreative, sorry. over 3k words. forgive typos and stuff, enjoy! (and since it’s today, happy holidays!!)

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

I was turning around the last corner to my room when I heard the prince’s voice.

“Officers! A nice evening we're having…”

A small smile formed on my face as I watched Brooks talking with fake enthusiasm aimed at Barnes and Rogers. Seeing them patrolling around the hall was something I was used to by that point and they were quite the amusing pair. According to the maids, Rogers was in his first year of duty, a smart kid extremely loyal to the monarchy. Barnes, in contrast, had been serving for over a decade, already with a family of his own. His loyalty to the job.

Rogers immediately bowed to Brooks, not bothering to question why he’d start such a trivial conversation with them. “Absolutely, Highness.”

Barnes, however, only bowed politely. Sharp as ever as he asked if there was something they could help him with. “Oh, no, no…” Brooks said, kicking the ground, clearly uncomfortable. “You must be wondering why I'm here.”

Rogers shook his head, almost offended at the thought of being considered so disrespectful. “Oh, but it's your palace.”

“It's the floor of the Selected,” Barnes interjected, suspicion and disapproval noticeable before he quickly added, “But it is not our place to wonder, Highness.”

Subtle, Barnes. I walked the rest of the way to my room, getting closer to them quietly. This was sure to be an entertaining conversation, our conspiring could wait.

“Glad you asked!” Brooks clapped his hands together, smiling awkwardly. “I am just checking up on things, being a good guy. I am in no way here to see anyone specific.”

Barnes raised his brows and I shook my head. I had guessed he was a bad liar before, but he was worse than I’d expected.

“You shouldn't worry about that, Highness,” Rogers began, oblivious to Barnes' suspicion, “we're doing our job well, I assure you. You can go on about your day and let us worry about the guarding.”

“For once my partner is right,” Barnes eyed the prince warily, “you should not concern yourself which such trivial things, but it's very... kind of you.”

“I want to be a guard!" Brooks blurted out, practically irradiating panic as he nodded to himself. "Th-that's why I'm here. I'm practicing.”

I rose both eyebrows, almost facepalming before the need to laugh hit me. I contained it though. “You wanna be a what now?”

Barnes and Rogers both looked at him with their own shocked expressions. “That’s unexpected, Highness.”

“That’s an understatement,” Barnes mumbled.

“Yeah, I've just always been fascinated with the... brute work.”

Brooks’ act was crashing and I snorted at the sight. “I hardly think it’s polite of you to call it brute... Highness.”

He turned to fully face me. “Clove, what a coincidence!”

One of my eyebrows went up as I watched him walk over, trying to hide my amusement as I grinned, “Is it?” His eyes narrowed.

“You're right, it isn't,” shaking his head solemnly, he faced the guards, “we're lovers meeting for our nightly tryst.”

My eyes widened before I glared at him, taking a step closer as a silent threat. You little... Fixing a smile on my face, as if that were the type of joking I approved of him, I let out a fake laugh. I punched his arm in faux playfulness though. “How funny, Brooks.”

He grabbed his arm, doing his best to pull up a smile through the pain. “I am a jokester.”

I spared him one last glare, then smiled politely at Barnes and Rogers. “He probably just needs help with that...Spanish homework of his.”

Officer Rogers tilted his head. “Don't you have tutors, Highness?”

“The prince is too shy to ask for help, aren't you Brooks?” I countered.

We didn’t need an awkward pause of Brooks debating what to say, and besides, it was my turn to embarrass him. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying it. Brooks had no other option than to whisper it was true so the dreadful exchange could be over.

“Oh, deeply sorry, Highness. We didn't know,” Rogers apologized quickly. Barnes narrowed his eyes, seeming not quite sure if he should believe it but bowed anyway. “We'll leave you to it.” He spun on his heel to leave and Roger followed quickly with, “At your service, if you ever need it.”

As soon as they were out of sight, Brooks sighed and I reached for his arm to shove him in the room. Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it for a moment, that weird need to laugh taking over again. This time I let myself do so.

“Stop laughing.” Brooks crossed his arms. “That wasn't funny.”

I ignored him, of course. “You want to be a guard?” I made a face of fake disbelief, bringing a hand to my chest. “How incredibly humble of you.”

“You're amused, aren't you?”

I was. Very much so. Faking a more serious tone I continued, “Brute force is so very important on the life of a guard. I'm glad you are aware of it.” My chuckling became softer as my amusement subsided. It was a little strange to tease him just for the sake of it instead of the usual sting I used when he was being a jerk, but I wasn't about to complain about witnessing such a priceless scene.

“I'm glad you enjoyed that.”

Meeting his gaze, I managed to stop laughing, realizing this was Brooks. I composed myself and cleared my throat. “Yeah, well... anyway....” I walked to the closet, searching for my box hidden behind some shoes. Taking it to the room, I set the box on the bed and opened it to reveal a couple of old magazines, my random sheets with notes, the journal he'd given me from the library, and my own notebook.

Picking up the journal, I flipped through the first pages. “It's been proving a little hard to read, in all honesty, but I've figured out the first chapters in my spare time the last two days.” I handed him the journal opened on the first margin annotation and then reached for my notebook in the box. “This is what I've got so far. I haven't gotten to the details of how they do it yet,” that was in further chapters, “but I'm pretty sure they don't leave the Selection to chance anymore.”

I handed him my notebook opened on my progress. It wasn't much, but there were readable transcriptions of the first Spanish annotations from the margins of the journal, then translations underneath and my own notes for context.

To avoid wasting time reading all of them, he asked, “What does it say?”

“Basically, it seems they consider the royal bloodline to be of utmost importance and therefore thought of it wise to further consider who is worthy enough to produce an heir.” I rolled my eyes as I explained, understanding the concern to some level, but knowing caste alone did not define worthiness. It was about finding the right person and choosing wisely. Heart and mind. “Of course, the whole charade of the Selection is that it's equal and impartial. Letting a daughter of Illéa join the highest of ranks and bring a voice to the people. That means they can't really be openly selective of who is allowed to join and who isn't.” The journal was proof that that didn’t stop them, however.

“But does the heir still have a choice?”

I pressed my lips together, knowing he meant Nate. “I doubt he's aware... Your father on the other hand…”

He closed his eyes. I understood that disappointment well. “That's what I thought. Do you think your dad knows?”

Clenching my jaw, I looked away. “I'm afraid to say it's very likely most of the advisers know.”

Even without reading more of the journal, I knew Dad had to be involved. It would be foolish to deny it. I couldn’t turn a blind eye to the strings of logic weaving in my head, creating a fuller picture. Wilson called it my double-edged sword. You can't always hold on to hope when the reality is hitting you right in the face. Just like I had been unable to pretend I didn't notice Miss Grundy's strange mannerisms whenever parent-teacher conferences came along.

A hand on my back broke my thoughts. “Hey, we don't know if this is still going on, and if it is, on the bright side, I guess you're considered worthy.”

He was trying to be nice, but a dry laugh left my mouth either way as I stepped away from his hand. “How fortunate to be defined by a number.” I knew he was trying to be nice. To joke, be light-hearted. Sadly for him, I wasn’t the best when it came to people comforting me.

Actually, I probably wasn’t the best at comforting others either. Not in the most conventional of ways at least. I chewed the inside of my cheek, muttering, “I didn't think he was that type of person.” Then shaking my head, I focused back on the box. There was no point in sulking. I just had to push it aside.

With the help of the palace library, I’d found a book on the analysis of handwriting. There were a couple of general markers that people used to figure out psychological aspects of who’d been holding the pen, but some were also used to predict the probable gender of the writer. I had printed out pictures I’d taken from the book, showing stroke samples and statistics.

Standing next to Brooks so he could compare the writing in the journal, I steered our conversation back to the research. “I have no clue who wrote this since it was years ago, but considering the way of the strokes it was very likely a man.”

“I take offense to that remark.”

“Great. That's extra points for it being an accident.”

He smiled at my quick retort. “How many points were earned for the slap?”

I looked at him surprised, holding back a grin by pressing my lips together and pushing him away, taking the journal in the process. “That was your own fault.”

“Maybe so, but violence is never the answer.”

“Fair point.” I wasn’t about to argue against it, so instead, I said the truth with a shrug. “I was in a bad mood.”

“I was trying to provoke you.”

Faking a gasp, I gave him a perplexed look. “Were you really?!” Then letting my expression fall flat, “What a plot twist.”

He laughed, which wasn't too bad a sound, bumping shoulders with me as he kept a smile on. “It's how I show I care.”

I scoffed. “That's a stupid way of showing it.”

“Next time, I'll just shower you with compliments. Promise.”

“Sure. Let's see if you don't die from such a hardship.”

His eyes brightened for some reason as he leaned towards me, acting dramatically. “Oh, my dearest Clove, how your smile shines like the sun.” I raised an eyebrow and he leaned closer, looking at the ceiling and clutching his chest. “Your voice is like a song and I'm addicted to the melody.”

I crossed my arms and countered, “Max said my name alone was like music.”

He looked back down at me with a small smile. “And how right he was.”

I did my best not to seem too amused as I narrowed my eyes. This is probably how he acts around Eloise. I feigned suspicion, lifting my chin. “So this is how you get all the other girls to like you, huh?”

“Oh yeah, they can't contain themselves.”

“Are you admitting you've been flirting with the Selected?”

“Absolutely. I just can't help it.”

I chuckled at his persistence to keep this going. Though I wasn’t sure what it even was. Joking? Acting like decent human beings around each other for once? “What’s gotten into you?”

He stopped, leaning back. “You told me to be nice.”

“Oh, sorry,” I joked, aiming for the harmless teasing from earlier, “I thought that word wasn’t in your vocabulary. It's unexpected I must admit.”

He tilted his head. “All you had to do was ask.”

I gave him a flat look. “I’ve implied it before and so far, before today, you’ve failed.”

“You looked like you needed cheering up.” I could only blink at him after that, taken aback by his admission. I hadn’t thought he would actually notice, let alone help.

I’d had lunch with my dad the previous day, unable to cancel even if the last thing I wanted to do was face him after the journal. He’d lied to my face and there was nothing I could say about it. I had to act like everything was okay. Like I didn't know what he was involved in.

Pushing down the wave of anger at the memory of sitting with him and laughing at his jokes, I closed my eyes and let silence fill the room. Brooks and I would figure out the truth. Somehow, eventually, we would have the needed proof.

I took a deep breath and glanced back at him, allowing myself to smile, yet it turned into a full-on grin as I shook my head. The dork and I working together. Who would’ve thought? I tilted my head in his direction, watching him for a moment. “Thanks, then.”

He smiled back, some sort of pride lighting up his features, “Anytime.”

Mere seconds later, however, he looked away, hands fidgeting. I scratched the back of my neck, awkwardness rubbing off on me too. Change of subject it is. “So, what are we planning to do with this information once we've got more figured out?” I thought about it for a second. “I want others to know.”

“Wow, Teasdale. Looks like we agree. Let's hope the world doesn't end.”

“Dramatic much?” I asked, but he claimed to be a dramatic person on a regular basis. I said I used 'annoying' as his usual adjective and he brought some sarcasm into the mix by calling me ‘absolutely delightful’. “I see the compliments keep coming. Trying to keep me in a good mood?”

That finally got him flustered. “Y'know this is harder than it looks. I don't know how to act around you. I jus-I'm a little lost here.”

“And you think I know?" The need to defend me took over. Little kids arguing. "Before the library, the last thing you let me know was how no one wanted me around. Not precisely the most welcoming of statements.” He froze, stuttering and I sighed. “Just save it, Brooks. Point is I'm entitled to my skepticism, and as you said before, we weren't precisely friends in the past. You had no reasons to argue with me or accuse me of anything and yet you still did so.” Maybe I was a little angry about it. “I don't even know why.”

He looked down with frustration, but composed himself quickly, meeting my gaze again. “I know I haven't been the most polite, or chivalrous, o-or decent man to you.” He closed his eyes. “You have to understand, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know why I do it, I don't know why it's aimed towards you. I'm sorry.”

I stared at him as he kept his eyes shut, seeming far too embarrassed to look at me. Part of me couldn't believe he’d actually apologized. I wasn't sure if it was the most eloquent of apologies, but there was truth behind his words.

When he kept his eyes closed, I took a moment to think about how to reply. I wasn’t sure if this meant we could try to be friends now--an idea he’d completely loathed years back--but maybe, for the sake of our teamwork, we would have to avoid killing each other before getting answers.

Reaching for a pillow, I threw it at him. “That's my acceptance of your apology. You can open your eyes now.”

He opened them cautiously. “You've gotten violent.”

“It was that or…” I walked over and paused, reconsidering one last time before offering a hand for him to shake. “Clove Teasdale.” It was the same greeting I’d made the first time we’d met. When we were both just two freckled three-year-olds.

Back then he’d refused to accept it. Today he didn’t. “Brooks Schreave.”

I kept eye contact as he held to my hand, waiting for him to shake it and pointing out, “The pillow was more fun.”

He squeezed slightly. “Can't say I enjoyed it as much as an alternative response.”

“Like hitting you with two pillows?” I suggested. He gave me a flat look that made me grin. “I figured.”

His hand didn't move to shake, but he didn’t let go either so I glanced down at our joined hands. Uh... when I met his gaze again he was still looking directly at me, his expression awkward as I was getting used to at that point.

Not knowing what to do, he started swinging our hands. “I don't know how to stop. I feel like it'll make things awkward.”

A genuine laugh bubbled up. I hoped he didn’t feel like I was making fun of him, this was just a side of him I’d never seen before. “More awkward than to keep holding hands? Should I help you out?”

He nodded. “We'll both let go on the count of three.”

“One,” I began, “two,” he continued.

“Three,” I let go. He didn’t.

Well.

He snatched his hand back. “Whoops, made that worse.” I rolled my eyes and hit him with the pillow again after picking it up. He stumbled back. “That's not a soft pillow!” Then, attempting to take the cushion away, he accidentally pulled me with it.

Letting go of the pillow quickly, Brooks caught me before I could stumble forward, but in the process, Mr. clumsy decided to slip on the fallen pillow. My eyes widened as I placed hands out in front of me, hoping not to fall flat on my face. He swiftly shifted our positions to cushion my fall, however, groaning as I fell on his chest instead of the floor. “Shoot.”

Idiot. I moved off him, resting my back on the floor and admiring the ceiling. “You’re horrible.”

He ignored that and joked by saying I had a nice ceiling. I said it wasn’t mine, but he argued it was "for the time being."

“Wonder how long that’ll be.” After the discovery of the journal I hoped I'd be able to stay long enough to figure that out.

“You'll probably be here for a while, logs.”

I narrowed my eyes at his tone. “You’ve never called me that.”

“That's because it's stupid.”

I scoffed, lifting my upper body with the help of my elbows. “We were like 5.” I couldn’t tell if there was anger or annoyance in his gaze at the ceiling, but the word jealousy, also crossed my mind as I remembered my conversation with Quinn. I still couldn’t believe Brooks could have had a crush on me once, but if he had…

“You were clearly in love with him then," he stated, and I knew he meant Nate as he leaned up on his elbows too, locking eyes with me, "but tell me, are you now?”

I decided to keep the discussion civil as we’d failed to do in the past regarding this topic. “I’ve never been in love.” With Nate or otherwise.

“Me neither.”

“Then why do you assume I was?”

“Childhood infatuation is a common thing,” he explained, speaking a little lower.

“Infatuation is stupid.”

“Yes,” he whispered. “it is.” He was leaning closer, I could tell. He’d been moving in since the moment he’d sat up.

I frowned at the shift in the room, his face only an inch away. He was too close. What are you-... I opened my mouth but was cut off by a knock at the door.

“LADY CLOVE, DID YOU EAT DINNER?” I almost laughed at the sound of Barnes. Brooks stopped getting closer and moved away, looking down with a sigh as he lowered himself back to the floor.

Yelling back at Barnes on the other side of the door, I said, “I did!” And gave my current companion a suspicious glance.

“WHAT ABOUT YOUR VISITOR?” Barnes called again. “MAYBE HE SHOULD LEAVE TO GET SOME FOOD.”

I silently questioned Brooks about what he’d thought he was doing as I replied, “Yes, maybe.” His blue eyes met mine without an answer.

“I heard dinner was quite delicious, Highness. You should check it out.”

“I'm sure it was,” the prince called back. To me, he added, “I think I should go.” Standing up, he gave me a slight nod before walking to the door, opening it and offering Barnes a smile as the guard moved aside to let him pass, bowing. I watched as his back disappeared with a raised eyebrow, unsure if I should let myself assume anything.

Then my expression was for Barnes as he stood by the door. “What was that all about?”

“General concern for your eating habits, Lady Clove. You’ve already skipped breakfast today I was told.”

Yeah, right. I’d gotten food with Eloise later anyway. “Officer Barnes?”

He pressed his lips together, but when I didn’t let him go he simple admitted, “I know what it’s like to be his age.”

I rolled my eyes. Jacinda had mentioned the officer had a soft spot for protecting people easily whether he liked to admit it or not. A lot of the younger staff members looked up to him because he looked out for them.

"It's not like that," I mumbled, but even as I said it, I stared back into the room. At the fallen pillow I'd hit Brooks with.

It couldn’t be.

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

A Deal’s A Deal, Part II-Peaky Blinders Imagine

Requested: Yes

Warnings: angst and fluff

    It was a cold, dreary afternoon in November when I walked into Alfie’s synagogue. Alfie’s men sat on the right side of the aisle while Polly, John, Arthur, Finn, Michael, Karl, and a handful of other Blinders sat on the left side. Ada stood near the altar with Alfie since she was my maid of honor. She looked good in the burgundy red dress I’d picked out for her to wear. The sides of the aisle were decorated with winter jasmines and I carried a bouquet of the flowers as I slowly approached my future husband. Alfie looked much more put together than he usually did in his coal black tuxedo. His facial hair was groomed for once and his hair was slicked back. He seemed a bit pleased with himself. The song the organ player played as I walked seemed more depressing than it had at weddings I had attended, but that may have been my own mind. 

    I had considered wearing a black gown to express my mourning but decided on a traditional ivory lace gown that fluttered into a tulle skirt that trailed behind me. The veil covered my face so no one could see how upset I truly was, though I had made my feelings about the nuptials clear during the planning process. My whole life, I dreamt about marrying the man of my dreams, receiving a dreamy proposal, and spending the rest of my life with my true love. Alfie Solomons certainly wasn’t my true love, but this was a business arrangement without love.

    Finally, I reached the altar and after that, the nuptials flew past me. I could barely hear the rabbi reciting Hebrew as he blessed our union but I could feel Alfie’s eyes training on me. Then, he lifted the veil from my face, crushed the glass, and kissed me. It was quick, but I still felt his hairs scratch my face. I managed to muster up a bit of a smile as we faced our guests and walked back down the aisle together. We got in a car outside that would drive us to the reception and it was the first time Alfie and I were alone since the marriage was arranged. I flicked the large diamond ring around my finger.

     “Big one, innit?” Alfie asked.

     “Yes,” I said. 

     I wanted to say that I didn’t care about the size of the ring, but that would have been a complete and utter lie. I was impressed with the fact that the ring was big but it didn’t weigh down on my finger too much.

    “Thought you’d like it.” 

    “It’s nice.”

     Alfie continued talking about anything and everything that came to mind, which was mostly him complaining about his men and talking about the reception. Surprisingly, he didn’t bring up the honeymoon which was both a relief and a bit alarming. We were supposed to go to Paris because I always wanted to have my honeymoon in Paris and it was one of my favorite cities in Europe. However, thinking about what would most likely happen in the lavish suite with Alfie made my stomach churn. It wasn’t that I didn’t find him attractive, because I did, it was just a bit of a damper that this was all arranged without my consent or input.

     Ten minutes later, I was gripping the sides of my chair for dear life as John, Arthur, Michael, and Finn bounced my chair in the air while Ollie and several of Alfie’s men did the same to him. A Jewish folk song was playing in the background and I couldn’t help but scream and laugh as the Shelby boys pretended to drop me several times. Then, I glanced up at Alfie and saw that he was clapping and there was a look in his eyes that I had never seen before, albeit I only met him once before we got married. He usually seemed so closed off and cold yet here he was, laughing and enjoying himself, but I suppose that was only appropriate behavior for a wedding. When we got set down, he helped me out of my chair and grabbed my face in his hands.

    “Mind if I kiss ya?” he muttered.

    “Not at all.”

     This kiss was much rougher than our first as husband and wife, making all the boys hoot and holler at us. I laughed as I pulled away and we sat down at the head table. The rest of our guests kept dancing as I nursed my second glass of champagne and Alfie picked at his steak.

    “Seems like a successful allying,” I said.

    “What?”

    I glanced at Alfie. “Well, seeing as Arthur hasn’t tried to kill anyone, John hasn’t pulled a gun on anyone, and Polly looks fairly content, it appears as though your alliance with the Shelbys is official.”

   “Ah, yes, it would appear so.” Alfie gestured towards my plate. “What’s the matter? You haven’t eaten anything.” 

   “Nothing, I’m just celebrating my wedding is all.” I downed the rest of my champagne. “See? Now, I need another.”

   “Might want to slow down, sweetheart, ‘specially on an empty stomach.”

   “Who says I haven’t eaten?” 

   Alfie shrugged. “Just eat the bloody food.”

  “Contrary to what you may believe, you don’t get to tell me what to do,” I hissed.

   Suddenly, the carefree man I had done the horah with had disappeared and had been replaced with the man I had actually married, the controlling, paranoid, large Jewish man. I couldn’t believe that for a moment, I had fancied him. 

     I snatched another flute of champagne from a passing server and began sipping from it.

   “I do if you’re too foolish to take care of yourself.”

   I glanced at him, set the champagne flute down, and began nibbling on the potatoes that came with the steak. “I apologize for being short with you earlier, I suppose I’m still in a bit of shock.”

   “S’alright, we’ll get used to each other.” 

   I hoped very much that what he said was true. Marrying Alfie meant that I was no longer worked for a gang but made me a gangster’s wife. His rivals would definitely come after me and if we ever had kids, it would get even worse. Plus, I had to move to London to live with him, specifically in Camden Town, which I never liked. Perhaps we could work out some sort of arrangement where I could live near Ada or something. No, if I was going to be married, I was going to do it the proper way no matter who my husband was.

     Eating dinner and dessert ended up being a good idea and put me in a better mood. I danced around with Ada and Polly and at one point, John pulled me into a dance with him.

      “Can’t believe it, little Y/N’s a married woman now!” he yelled.

      “Please, announce it to the rest of Europe!” I replied.

      “It’s gonna be a pain not seein’ you all the time and botherin’ ya at the shop.” 

       “I would’ve been so much more productive if you’d left me alone,” I teased.

       “Eh, doesn’t matter, you were still smart enough to keep up with Tommy and he never got mad at ya. Whoever he’s got lined up for your spot isn’t gonna match up.”

         “Yeah, suppose not.”

          After Tommy told me about my engagement, I hadn’t spoken to him. He went back to Birmingham alone and I stayed in London to plan my wedding. However, I was still concerned about little Charlie. Lord knows I loved that boy as though he was my own. Hopefully, he was being treated well and Tommy wasn’t distancing himself from his son. I would definitely have to check on the both of them once I cooled off.

          “Sorry if that’s still a sore spot for ya,” John said.

           “It’s alright, John, at least, it will be eventually.” 

          “If he hurts ya, I’ll blow his f-ckin brains out, alright?” John said.

           “I believe you.” I kissed John’s cheek and walked back to Alfie, who seemed less than pleased with my actions. “Don’t make that face, John’s like a brother to me.”

           “He doesn’t look at you like you’re his sister.” Alfie took a long sip of his champagne. “’S time for us to go.”

          “Already? Feels like we just got here.” 

          “Well, we need to get goin’ or else we’ll be stuck in England for our honeymoon.”

         “Yeah.”

         Alfie stood, circled around the table, and grabbed my hand. He loudly announced that we had to get going and everyone followed us out of the venue and to the car. Ollie quickly opened the door for me and I gathered my skirt before slipping inside. Alfie was right behind me and I stuck my head out of the window as I waved to my friends as Ollie began driving us towards the train station. I didn’t stop waving until I couldn’t see them anymore and fell into the seat next to Alfie. It was then that it really hit me that my wedding night was approaching and I was a little short of terrified. Alfie was probably extremely experienced and was expecting me to match up and I was positive that I didn’t. It didn’t help that he was a little less than affectionate with me on the drive to the train and on the train ride. In fact, he only spoke to me after I basically forced myself to walk out of the bathroom in our suite in Paris, wearing the pink negligee Ada helped me pick out. He was sitting on the bed, wearing his white shirt and pants from the ceremony. He raised both of his eyebrows at me and rubbed his beard.

        “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. ‘M not gonna force you to do nothing with me,” he said.

          Yet, you forced me to marry you, I thought semi-bitterly.

          I slowly walked over to him. “Then, that makes me look a little ridiculous right now.” 

          “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking all day and I don’t like it,” Alfie said. “The last thing I want is for you to be unhappy and as long as we’re married, I’ll do my best to keep you happy.”

           He grabbed my hand and pulled me so I stood between his legs. Alfie stared at my hand as though he was surprised at how small it was compared to his.

          “Thank you, Alfie.” I pursed my lips. “Can I ask you something?”

          “Yes.”

          “Why did you want to marry me? I didn’t think there was anything special between us when we first met, no offense.” 

          Alfie hesitated. “When I first saw you, I thought you were like a bird that needed protecting or something. You were quiet, but when you spoke up about something Tommy said, I saw that you were a bit of a force to be reckoned with. Never met a woman who could do both and...you’re the most stunning bird I’ve ever seen.”

        “Th-thank you, Alfie,” I whispered.

         “But I probably shouldn’t keep a bird in a cage, eh?” he said.

         I forced him to look up at me. “With time, I could come to fancy you too. You are a bit softer than you’d like other people to know, especially your men. As for tonight,” I bent my head down towards his, “I fully intend to consummate our marriage.”

         Just after our lips brushed, Alfie grabbed my hips and tossed me on the bed. I didn’t even have a chance to react as he climbed over me, kissing me and holding my face.

       “You’re gonna be the death of me, woman,” he muttered in my ear.

       “I wouldn’t say that just yet,” I mumbled back as I ran my hands through his hair. “The other women you’ve been with are a bit more...practiced than I am.”

        Alfie paused from biting my neck and looked at me. “Don’t be nervous. Those women don’t mean nothing to me, I didn’t marry ‘em, did I?”

        “No.”

        It wasn’t as perfect as I thought it would be, but it made me feel closer to Alfie. The next day, I had a good feeling that maybe this marriage would be better than I thought.