Aristocrats and gangsters have a lot in common.
They're both selfish, get bored easily, and have access to wads of cash they didn't work honestly to get and neither have any interest in bourgeois rules or morality.
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So when...
"Alfie." Thomas furrowed his brows quickly but soon returned to his unwavering usual facade, stepping in between the man and Leonor, hoping she would take the hint and walk away. "Wasn't expecting you here."
"Oh, I was just around this beautiful little area and figured you could benefit from my visit." Alfie released Leonor's hand and stepped inside, tugging Cyril's leash alongside it. "Also, I heard you got married." He glanced at Leonor, whose eyes darted between Thomas, Alfie, and Cyril, her gaze lingering longer on the dog. "To a Spanish marquesa."
At the uttering of the word in her mother tongue, Leonor fixed her posture, wondering if this man was one of the people Thomas mentioned not wanting her around earlier. But figured that the absence of shouting, fighting, and shooting was a positive sign, or at least she hoped to be.
"It's a shame you couldn't make it to the wedding." Thomas tilted his head towards his office, expecting Alfie to follow him but the wandering jew had another idea, turning towards the hall, heading towards the drawing room.
"Yes, it is, it really is, a shame." Alfie sat down with a groan, making himself comfortable in one of the largest armchairs, Cyril just behind him, resting at his feet. "Do you like dogs, Mrs. Shelby?"
Leonor remained silent, looking for guidance from Thomas. "Alfie, if you heard I got married to a Spanish marchioness, I'm certain you also heard she doesn't speak English well, not yet."
Alfie smiled for a moment, rubbing his thick beard before turning his head to Thomas's wife. "Do you like dogs, Mrs. Shelby?" He repeated himself, in Spanish this time.
Leonor's eyes lit up with interest. She wasted no time and quickly sat beside him in the armchair, leaning in his direction. "Do you speak Spanish?"
Thomas furrowed his brows, figuring he was mad for just a second before sitting down on the couch with a deep breath, both confused and annoyed.
"Not as good as you, my lady but if you be patient-" Alfie chuckled at her reaction, feeling Thomas glare on his head.
"Of course! I can be patient! How did you learn?" Leonor was so happy to hear her language that she interrupted him, her manners all forgotten for a moment, before switching back in place. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Solomons. Can I get you anything, tea or?"
"Tea is more than fine, Mrs. Shelby, much obliged."
"Of course! Just a moment, please! " Leonor flung from her seat, with a genuine smile on her face, her steps rushed towards the kitchen, leaving the pair behind, the commotion carefully watched by her husband, whose mood seemed to only get worse by the minute.
"So, Mr. Solomons, you speak Spanish..." Thomas scoffed in disbelief, with a discreet amused grin on his face. "Are there any more surprises in you today? Maybe Cyril can bark in another language as well."
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