You Must Remember This

Chapter Two: Let Nothing You Dismay (part 2)

Colin thought he should be grateful her hair was loose, as much as it disturbed him, seeing it all unbound. At least it was hiding her skin, even if he could see teasing glances of it through the strands. Then she started braiding it, revealing her skin, bit by torturous bit, which was even more disturbing, though not as much as that first moment when she removed her cape, revealing that damned disturbing dress. 

The dress wasn't disturbing in and of itself. It was her usual cheerfully colored fluff. The way she was spilling out of it was. He was so disturbed he was tempted to rapidly remove himself from the carriage.

Yes. Disturbing is what he would call it all. Because if he called it by any other name, he would deserve to remove himself from the carriage.

She very likely wished he'd do it, regardless. Pen was so very obviously angry with him and had yet to even hint as to why. Never had the air been so strange between them. He congratulated himself that he'd resisted picking this particular bone with her thus far, possibly aided by the fact that she'd just slept over half the journey away. Even so, it had been touch and go a few times. If he wanted to have a good fight, as Kate called it, he'd need to be careful.

In the Autumn, when he'd returned to Aubrey Hall from Italy and Kate and Anthony had returned from India, he'd often made time for tea with Kate. She'd appreciated that he had a more adventurous palate than the rest of his family, and he did quite like her tea, along with the talks they shared. He'd never had an older sister and, with Kate... it felt like he could ask her things he'd feel stupid asking of his brothers or Daphne.

"You and Anthony still fight quite a lot," he'd observed, one lazy afternoon. "Not that I mind. It's very entertaining, but I rather thought, when you married, you'd be done with all that."

She'd laughed. "Well, I rather think marriage is just the beginning of all that. Only... it's a good fight now."

"How so?"

"Well, when we'd met, your brother and I were fighting to thwart each other. Later, we were fighting to avoid our true feelings — a losing battle if there ever was one. After that, we were fighting our way toward each other, only against our circumstances and our own stubborn selves. Now, we fight together to... Well, I admit, sometimes it's just for the enjoyment of a good argument, but it's mostly to understand each other, to live with each other, to find harmony." She'd grinned. "Your brother is not the easiest man to contend with. He's terribly set in his ways."

Colin chuckled. "Funny. I think I've heard him say the same about you."

"Well, I suppose we both are. But not so much we cannot fight our way back to each other and end, perhaps, knowing each other in a better, deeper, closer way." She smiled, then, that same smile Anthony wore at times, Daphne as well, as if they were privy to some secret the rest of the world simply could not fathom. "I'm certain you'll understand someday."

Colin didn't think he would. He didn't even like it when other people fought around him which, with eight siblings, happened a lot. His job, as he saw it, was always to make them stop by any means necessary. Distraction, silly jokes, another plate of biscuits, a trip to Gunter's... Even the promise of that last usually nipped Greg and Hy's little spats before they started.

As for fighting himself... Even sparring or fencing, he couldn't help finding himself overly concerned for his opponent if he tried anything but a defensive stance. Hell, he'd even been fencing Anthony and Ben with his right hand for ages. It was enough for him to know that he could trounce them handily with his left if he so chose.

But the more he thought of it, the more he felt that a good fight was what he needed now, with Pen. Obviously, they weren't family or, it seemed, even friends at the moment. But they could be if he could find it in him to fight for it... only after lunch. He had no wish to argue at all, and even less on an empty stomach.

At least there'd be some real food now. The pork pie, scones, two (now three) nutty buns, and one meager blackberry tart he'd consumed with nothing but one little quart of milk to wash it down could hardly be called a meal, not properly. He needed something hot to warm his belly.

Then again, he felt warm enough to burst when he stepped out of the carriage to find Pen hopping down by herself, bodice bouncing as she hit the cobblestoned courtyard.

"Penelope!"

She stopped rolling her neck and stared at him. "What?"

Did she truly not know what? With John and George staring from the side, eyes wide and mouths slack, he'd think it was obvious. He glared at them, satisfied when they dropped their eyes, and reached into the carriage. "You forgot your cloak!"

He started putting it over her shoulders with the closed end in front. "That's backwards."

"Is it? It looks best that way. I think that should be the style."

She seemed to disagree, pulling it from his hands. "You forgot your coat as well."

"I don't need it inside."

"Then I don't need—"

"Got it!" He reached in quickly and pulled it out, shrugging it on so quickly, he thought it might tear. It was worth it as long as she closed that cape.

When George started leading the horses away, Colin stopped him. "Wait! Miss Featherington needs her trunk."

"I do not," Penelope said over him.

"You said you wanted to change."

"No, I said I wanted to refresh myself. Why change dresses only for two more hours riding?"

"Because that would be even more refreshing." How was he ever to get her out of that dress?

"And into a new one! Into a new one!" he amended in his mind, as if someone could hear.

"Don't be silly." She smiled at John and George, pressing some coins into their hands. "Please do warm yourselves well."

They thanked her, George taking especially long about it, the old lech removing his hat and bowing. "Kind o' you. And a kindness at Christmas, as my old ma would say—"

"Yes, yes, she's very generous. You can tell her all about it somewhere less freezing." Colin placed her arm in his, pulling her to the door. "Why did you do that? I could have done that."

"I'm the guest. And it's considered kind to tip those caring for you away from home. Don't you do so when traveling?"

"Of course I do, but that's different. I'm a man with the means to pay, as I'm certain my allowance goes further than your pin money."

"You'd be surprised." She jingled her pink reticule, which looked rather heavy. "What else am I to do with all this pin money when I've no need of a pin?"

He had no answer for that except for possibly "buy more bodice fabric," so he rang the bell, relieved the place was not too crowded for lunch yet.

The fact that Penelope removed her cloak immediately and hung it on the back of her chair as soon as they were shown to their table was less relieving.

He found himself growing agitated as she chatted with the barmaid and excused himself, stalking off to the men's retiring room and, among other necessities, splashing some water on his face, staring at himself in the small, rather dingy mirror and trying to find tranquility. He'd need to start with some before what was to come...

A good fight.

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More to come! If you're enjoying this, let me know. It might inspire me to post faster. ;)