finalflight | psl; [a marriage of inconvenience]

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psl; [a marriage of inconvenience]

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[James tries not to look too distracted, as if suddenly aware of the two men that he catches in his peripheral from time to time. They always seem at a distance, admittedly, but they're always there.]

Ah... no, actually. I don't mind sweets. I actually like them quite a bit.

And another thing to add to the list of things I know about you and that I'm pleasantly surprised about.

[Devon makes a note to herself to bake some cookies one week. Maybe she'll just bake up a storm the week before her family arrives at the estate so that there's something everyone can have as a treat.

She gets into the line and orders her drink which is served right away (a cold brew coffee sweetened with cream, all the rage these days you know) and then she grabs them a table near the window, one where they can just watch people pass by.]

Surprised? That I would like sweets? [He grins, though arches a brow.] A lot of people like them, you know. It shouldn't be surprising to you that I do as well.

[He follows, sitting across from her after they get their order -- James has settled for a chai tea latte, because. Well. Tea.

Plus, sitting by the window is preferable, given that he feels he can keep a better eye on his surroundings that way.]

Though I realize there's still plenty we don't know about each other.

We can start a back and forth now if you'd like!

[One of the two men has waved the other off and the remaining one is sitting outside, far on the opposite end. Still in sight, still in mind.]

Although, if it's more fun, I can text you during the week, but face to face time is precious in this case.

[James is definitely thinking something is up, now; he makes a mental note to track their presences in the back of his mind, so he always can tell where they are in proximity to themselves.]

Well, I do have a question for you, actually. [He looks at Devon, lowering his voice just a tad.] Are you followed often?

[There's a questioning look on her face and her lips purse. Her eyes are glancing to the side, but she has the good sense not to turn her head around.]

... How long?

[How long have they been followed, she's asking?]

[The fact that she asks "how long?" instead of "what are you talking about it?" is telling. He frowns.]

Since we went to find you your dress, I think. Who are they?

Good question. [She takes a sip of her drink. In the meanwhile, the man outside feigns looking at his phone and stands up walking away. It seems he knows that he's been noticed.]

I don't know. It's never the same person.

[Well, that doesn't bode well.]

How long has this been happening to you? And what could they possibly want?

[Did this have something to do with her... abilities? James eyes him as the man walks off, but makes a mental note to keep cognizant of where they may be wandering to.]

... Whenever I went out to crowded places and it wasn't with friends, I had Ian with me.

[Another sip of her drink is taken before she continues looking tense.]

He could always tell if I was being followed or not. And if I was approached by a stranger, he had a way of figuring out whether they wanted something from me.

Is the person gone by the way?

What do you mean, he could tell?

[And James shakes his head. Though he can't really say "I can feel him wandering off right about now," he can at least confirm it in a different way.]

He seems to have walked off for now.

[Devon gestures with one hand and shrugs, showing her uncertainty.]

He kind of just... Does. Kids, you know? They have sharper senses about people than we give them credit for.

The point is, I wasn't followed all the time, but it's happened more than once. And out here in England too...

[She lets out a small sigh of relief at his confirmation.]

Good.

Edited 2016-12-07 16:58 (UTC)

[James looks skeptical, but doesn't push the subject. They have more worrying matters at the moment.]

I have half a mind to confront them the next time it happens. [James is of the inclination to do it, too, unless someone stops him.] They haven't done anything else other than follow you around in the past? How disturbingly passive of them.

[Devon shakes her head.]

... It's like you suggested. They're probably watching me for... The fixing. I can't think of anything else. Whenever Ian found a stray that needed help, we always made sure to bring them home so I could help where no one could see.

But if they wanted something, why not walk up to you and ask you for it? Why all this cloak and dagger nonsense? I don't like it, Devon.

I don't either and... [It seems to click with her.]

... Maybe it's because of Grandpa.

[After all, if she was harmed, Lucas Flemming would most likely raise hell. And she was the one who told Grandpa about being followed didn't she?]

They're watching, but they can't do anything because of him.

[He watches her expression, feeling her uncertainty from where he sits. After everything, it all circles back to this secret of hers, doesn't it? The one she thinks her grandfather is keeping from her.

It's enough to send a flicker of irritation running through him.]

Well that's all well and good, but it isn't exactly fair keeping you in the dark if there's something actually happening here. You really need to confront him about this. I'm not going to have my fiance being followed around by shady men for the rest of her life.

... Well, we'll definitely see him at the engagement party.

[It's not an ideal time and place to talk to him, but...]

At the very least? I'll get him to visit me after that's all said and done.

Good. For your sake, I think it'd be for the best.

[Don't make him have to do it for you, Devon. Because James is the type that totally will.]

...Maybe we should head back for now. It'll be dark by the time we return to the estate, anyway.

[Devon nods and begins to stand up. Behind her the door jingles and a mixed group of people come in. She glances casually... And immediately sits back down.]

Crap.

Cousins alert.

[TODAY OF ALL DAYS... When she's with her fiance and trying to enjoy herself, goddammit.]

What-? [He mutters, just Devon plants herself in her seat all over again. He stands there awkwardly for a few seconds, looking as the group of people pass, then slowly sits back down.]

I take it this is not a good thing?

[More family drama upon them?]

Let's just say that I like Lucy the most because she actually liked me.

[The others, she could get along with, maybe even have a fun time if the occasion called for it, but...

Devon can recognize the three of them; there's Maisy, the oldest, her brother Mason (playing on his phone looking bored), and their other cousin Paige. Their conversation floats through the cafe, not too loud, but easy enough to hear as they sit down at a nearby table. They amazingly have not taken notice of the engaged couple.]

"... Lucy's got herself a new boyfriend recently, hasn't she?"

"Oh, yeah! She definitely looking more cheerful these days. Finally, catching a break after all Grandfather's put her through."

"I still say she'd lost out on not keeping a hold on Aubel if you ask me."

"Mm. At this point, it seems like Devon's got him firmly in her grasp. Good for her and her family isn't it? They could use the little extra from what I remember."

...

[Devon says nothing. She's staring out the window instead, but her emotions are bubbling up, negative, ugly ones, that threaten to rise to the surface.]

[Well this is beyond awkward. Annoyance grows in James as they speak about both him and Devon, and he raps his fingers against the table. Honestly, he doesn't care as much about what people say about him behind his back. He's a businessman, tough skin came with the territory.

But he can feel the negative emotions rising in Devon, spilling over to himself. It's making him a little irritated for her sake, and he sets his jaw, debating on what to do.]

(Wankers.) [He accidentally projects to the whole cafe, oops, not meaning to. He doesn't even realize it, and immediately looks at Devon afterwards. He strains a satirical smile.] Want me to have a word with them?

[The whole cafe collectively blinks from the unintended projection and the Flemmings even stop chattering wondering what just happened. It's shrugged off soon enough and Devon looks at James and shakes her head, reaching over so she's holding his hand across the table. ]

Don't.

Just stay with me.

[It's by her bidding alone that James remains seated instead of confrontational. He exhales, her hand on his.]

You don't have to sit here and take this.

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