psl; [a marriage of inconvenience]

[hedgemaze]

THE AUBEL ESTATE is located in Derbyshire, England, a stately old home reminiscent of centuries long past. Long ago, it had fallen into disrepair and abandoned until previous generations of the Aubel family purchased the land for themselves, having found their fortunes in matters of real estate. Since that time, the outside has been restored and the inside has been renovated at least three times. Four, if you ask the uncle who remembers the one summer where the chandelier fell from the dining hall, taking a large portion of the ceiling with it. How embarrassing, if such a thing is true.

In its present state, it straddles the line between the old and new. The large, prominent rooms are ostentatious as they are filled to the brim with austere English culture; the smaller quarters, traditionally used by the servants and staff, are far more modest, and over time have allowed the tendrils of modernity to creep in as a result. Regardless, the home is impressive no matter how you look at it, and there are few who do not cast an envious glance at the estate as they pass by Derbyshire on their way to town, or perhaps northwest to Manchester, if they've even farther to go.

PHILIP AND JAMES AUBEL, father and son respectively, are the owners of the home, though only the father remains for any extended period of time. And even then, he only stays perhaps one or two seasons at a time, until he returns to his home in London, spending one or two seasons there, before returning again, living out his life of retirement to the fullest. James visits nearly every week (driving in from Manchester, and back) in the Spring, until the first freeze of Winter, when nothing will grow. Though they have a staff of two dozen -- give or take, depending upon the time of year -- taking care of the estate and its grounds, James is more diligent about keeping up appearances of the house, showing a special interest in maintaining the complex hedge maze on the land directly behind them. Only he keeps access to its center, a literal walled garden of seasonal flora.

AS RECENT DEVELOPMENTS WOULD HAVE IT, James has been drawn into an arranged marriage by his father and an old business acquaintance. She is scheduled for an extended visit soon, and the staff have done a meticulous job of preparing the hall for her arrival -- and the rest of the rooms, as well, if she is expected to make her living here permanent, one day. Today, the weather is clear and the help is eager to aid her in unpacking. The grounds are green and the family dog, an old greyhound with cataracts in one eye, bounds up to her with a slow wagging tail. The father will greet her, of course, with all the usual formalities, and though he doesn't know her all that well at all, she at least seems nice enough. He disappears soon after, leaving her to her own devices as she sees fit. James himself is nowhere to be found.

Somewhere, sooner rather than later, a collision course of first impressions will take place.

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D I R E C T O R Y;

➤ shitpost.
➤ first impressions.
➤ diamonds.
➤ text her, texter.
➤ saviour.
➤ flirt.
➤ closer.
➤ cross-examine.
➤ PARTY CRASHERS.
✶ elle + devon
✶ elle + corvus
✶ ian + james + corvus
✶ devon + james
➤ alien abduction.
➤ sleep now.
➤ bathe.
➤ remember.
➤ drink.
➤ welcome home.

Comments

[hedgemaze]

[He listens to her speak, and when she says that she actually is starting to like him, he looks a little surprised. It's... honestly more than he expected. He thought that they might be congenial with each other, civil and polite. Sometimes even laugh at each other's jokes. But her liking him? He never asked for that, he never thought it would be fair to -- but oddly, when she says that she does, something in him feels... glad.

And when she smiles and shrugs, showing some of that animated energy he knows she possesses, James can't help but smile despite his best efforts of seeming ambivalent. Whereas he was going to pretend to just continue reading, he finds his gaze pulled towards her.]

Then consider it something to look forward to, because I don't plan on letting you down.

[He waves his book in her direction, gesturing vaguely.] Though I do like how you managed to compliment me and call me an arse in the same set of sentences. And by the way? You don't give yourself enough credit, Devon.

[She gave her honest opinion, he can at least give his.] You're more than what you said. You're smart and witty when it suits you, you're artistic and you care, maybe too much, about the people around you. You've an innocence and a good nature that most adults have lost, and despite the hand you've been dealt, you try to make the best out of the situation. It shows your strength of character.

So you're not just a mess. You're my mess. Don't forget that.

[winterheart]

[That... Is nothing, but sweetness to Devon. It feels warm and it elates her beyond measure, different from the anxious excitement that was elicited through purely physical means. And it makes her feel hopeful. Compared to the first day at the Aubel Estate where she saw nothing, but clouds, a few rays have managed to penetrate those gloomy skies.]

Well. Then before this mess goes to bed with a locked door... Be honest.

How long have you been holding off?

[yeah she's basically just teasing him now]

[hedgemaze]

Ha. [Back to his book, it would seem. He knows she's going to put the screws to him now, since he said he would be nice and wait for her to be ready.] Now you're just teasing me. Quite rude.

But if you must know, ever since it was announced that I was to be engaged to your cousin. So, what, we're going on more than two years now? Almost three?

[winterheart]

[Good lord.

Her alarm can be felt quite easily.]

...

[And then she pats him heartily on the shoulder as if she was a guy friend rather than a fiance.]

Good job. Well done.

[hedgemaze]

[Oh, that makes him roll his eyes, and shrug off that hand of hers patting him on the back.]

Please don't patronize or congratulate me. I was engaged; it wasn't as if I had the freeeom to sleep around with whatever women I pleased.

[winterheart]

Well.

If it makes you feel better I won't make you wait two years.

[hedgemaze]

[He gives her a sideways glance, but can't stop the corners of his lips from tugging upwards.]

Just a year and a half, right?

[winterheart]

Only if you make me mad.

[She stands up to move a little closer to him and even goes so far as to press her forehead against his. It's, brief, but wholly affectionate.]

Feel better, alright?

[She takes a step or two back, giving him a wave. ]

See you in the morning tomorrow?

[hedgemaze]

Then I need to make sure to stay on your good side-

[When she touches his forehead with her own, she interrupts his little quip. Being that close to her, he thinks, is probably the highlight of his day. He'll just chalk it up to how long it's been for him, to have a woman that close to him in his bed. (And that tightness in his chest -- surely it's just the asthma starting to act up again.)]

Right. [He clears his throat, giving her a half-hearted wave as she walks away.] See you in the morning. Lock your door, remember.

[winterheart]

[She leaves his room with a lightened heart and a skip in her step as she closes his door.

And that is the tale of how Devon Ava Winters left the room of James Aubel, relatively unscathed, but with a whole new resolve as a result. ]