Title: Bend and Not Break
Author: Jami
E-mail: aresangel1@yahoo.com
Pairing: W/S, X/C, A(us)/D
Rating: Pg-13, maybe R later on
Distribution: Red’s Soulmates, my site Fatal Mistakes; anyone want, just ask.
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything, not even Spike, but a girl can wish.
Spoilers: None really, but maybe “Fool for Love” because of the flashbacks to Spike’s past.
Summary: This is completely AU. In 19th century England, two people have a chance meeting that changes their lives drastically.
Author’s Notes: I don’t know a lot about the time period, so forgive me if there are any serious errors.
Feedback: Yes, please. See, I’m asking nicely…
1/?
“Tell me, Willow,” pleaded Alexander Harris with a confused sigh, “if you dislike her so much, why are you going to visit her?”
“I have told you, Xander,” replied the small redhead with an exasperated look. “She is my family, the only real family I have now that mother and father have passed away. If there was anyone else, I would stay with them. Sadly though, there is no other choice.”
“Why can you not stay here, with us?” asked the young man as he took a seat in the lounge. “You know Cordelia would love having you around. She does not have many good friends such as you. She will miss you terribly.”
“Xander,” Willow groaned, “please do not make this harder than it has to be. I will not be far. London’s only a half a day’s ride from here. You can visit me whenever you like. I’m sure my dear cousin,” she added with obvious sarcasm, “would not mind the company. She is very much the social butterfly, after all.”
“I fear it will not be the same without you here. I cannot imagine not seeing you everyday,” he admitted softly. Willow’s eyes softened at his sincere statement and she forced herself to hold back her tears. Kneeling in front of her best friend, she took his hand in her own and squeezed.
“I will miss you terribly, Xander; Cordelia as well. If there was any way I could stay, you know I would. But I am afraid it is not possible. Without my parents here, I simply cannot afford to remain in this town by myself. I have no way to pay for the house or the servants. My aunt and cousin have generously offered me a place to stay in light of this tragedy and you know I cannot refuse. It would not be proper. But it is not forever, I will come back as soon as I can. And you can visit me, in fact I am sure there will be many balls that you can attend with us. Do not worry about me, I will be fine. This is not goodbye, Xander. Think of this as an…until we meet again. Alright?”
“Yes,” he said, standing and pulling her into a hug. She remained in his comforting embrace, allowing him to silently soothe away all the pain and sadness from her tired body.
The past few weeks had been hard on the young woman. Willow Rosen’s life had never been particularly extraordinary, she lived with her parents in a modest home comfortably situated in the quaint English countryside. As a child she and Alexander were practically inseparable, much to her parent’s annoyance. They always thought a little girl should be entertaining herself with dolls and tea, things of that nature. But Willow found things like that too mundane and boring, preferring to spend her time running around and climbing trees with Xander.
As she grew older, her parents stay at home became rather infrequent. Her mother had always longed to travel so when Willow was old enough to take care of herself, she and her father and left to explore the rest of Europe. They leisurely sipped wine in Italy, danced in Spain, and all in all had a splendid time. Willow didn’t begrudge her parents this indulgence. She too wished to see the world, her hope was that one day they would take her with them.
Unfortunately that was no longer a possibility. On the eve of her twentieth birthday, she received the horrible news. Her parents, traveling once again from England to Ireland, boarded a ship to the Emerald Isle, but the ship didn’t make it. She received word that the vessel had sunk, the cause of the accident unknown, and there were no survivors.
She found it hard to grieve. It wasn’t that she was not devastated, she just didn’t have the time. It was times like these she wished she had siblings, someone to share the burden of settling their affairs with. But she was alone in this, with the exception of help from dear Xander and his wife, Cordelia. The past week had been spent informing relatives of the accident and dividing the estate between any beneficiaries. Her Aunt Marie, her father’s only sister, gained control of Willow’s home, deciding it was best to sell it since she never spent any time in the country. That left her niece homeless though, so she thought it was her duty to see that the young woman have a place to call home. Willow reluctantly accepted her aunt’s invitation to move to London, wary about moving to the city. She had no other real choice, though. Now all that was left was saying goodbye to the only real family she had ever known.
“Tell Cordelia I am so sorry I missed her,” said Willow as she pulled away from her friend. She had intended to say farewell to his wife as well, but apparently Cordelia was out shopping that day, nothing unusual about that. Willow was just sad that she wouldn’t get to say a proper goodbye to her only other friend.
“I will,” he promised her, “I am sure she will be sorry that she could not give you a proper send off.” Willow smiled weakly and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.
“I have to be going,” she added with a frown. “I have a few more belongings to pack up, then my aunt is expecting me home by sundown.”
“And then onto a night of bonding with your lovely cousin, I suppose?” The only response he received was a roll of her eyes.
“I can only hope she has become more tolerable with age,” she replied.
“Ever the eternal optimist,” he said with a smile. “I will miss you, Will.” She placed a hand to his cheek, stroking it lovingly before stepping away from him, granting him a watery smile.
“I will miss you too, Xander. I will write you when I am settled.”
“And I will be waiting with bated breath.” He watched his best friend turn away from him and walk to the door. She gave him a small wave before leaving, forcing herself not to look back.
Willow climbed into her carriage, folding her hands neatly in her lap, her eyes staring at the scenery that idly passed her by as she headed to her home one last time.
Upon arriving, she took one last walk through her childhood home, tears finally falling down her face as she remembered all the good times she had here, knowing she would never spend another night here. Most of the furniture remained since her aunt had no need for it. Willow entered her room, finding the one item she had been searching for, an old copy of her father’s favorite book, Utopia, before leaving, closing the door quietly.
She walked out of her house, her somber gaze falling on her driver who in turn gave her a sympathetic look.
“Come, Miss,” he entreated gently, extending a hand to her, “We best be going.” She nodded silently and took his hand, allowing him to escort her to her carriage. She stared straight ahead, eyes focused on nothing as they rode away.
She didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she only came awake at the sound of a gentle rapping at her door. Willow shook herself, blinking rapidly in hopes to return to full wakefulness. The door opened and she stepped out, a look of concentration on her face as she took in her surroundings. Hesitantly, she climbed the steps that led to a stately home, the lavish decorations that could be seen from the windows an obvious attempt to impress their guests.
Knocking gently, she waited patiently as the front door slowly opened, an older gentleman there to greet her.
“I am looking for my aunt, Marie. Marie Adams? Is this the right place?” she stammered nervously. The man smiled kindly and moved to the side, silently motioning for her to join him inside. She walked in, her eyes darting from one place to the next as she studied the home.
The clicking of heels brought her attention back to the present and the redhead turned to face the newest arrival.
“Oh, Willow, it has been an age,” greeted an overly sugary voice, laced with feigned awe.
“Yes it has, cousin,” replied Willow with a forced smile. If there was one person she didn’t want to see it was her aunt’s only daughter. The woman was an absolute nightmare, in the redhead’s humble opinion.
“Well, come. Sit down, I will send for our servants to gather your belongings.” The brunette signaled for a nearby man to go outside and retrieve her luggage and then the two women sat in the parlor, sitting in awkward silence.
“I must say, it is good to see you. You will absolutely love London, I never understood how you could stomach country life,” she added with disdain. Willow smiled sadly, the girl hadn’t changed at all.
“It is good to see you too, Cecily.”
2/?
“Willow?” called a familiar voice, causing the young girl to stand. The redhead’s gaze fell to the older woman who entered the parlor, a relieved smile coming to her face at the realization that she wouldn’t have to make small talk with her cousin. “There you are, my dear. My, how you have grown! I scarcely recognize you!”
“I would recognize you anywhere, Aunt Marie,” replied Willow as she moved to hug her. Marie was in her early forties but did not look a day over thirty, her long brown hair remained pulled back, much like Cecily’s. Her attire was not as formal as her daughter’s, but she still had an air of elegance about her. Where Cecily was brash and rather self-absorbed, Marie preferred to remain in the background, letting her daughter have the spotlight she craved. Willow had a difficult time believing that they were indeed related.
Cecily barely restrained a glare at the other occupants of the room as they continued to ignore her presence.
“I am so glad you could join us, mother,” broke in Cecily, smiling when the two women turned to face her. “I was just telling Willow how much she will love it here. It will be an adjustment, though. Coming from such humble beginnings, the city must be awfully intimidating. Worry not though, dear cousin. I will be more than happy to assist you as best as I can,” she offered with no trace of sincerity.
“How kind of you, child,” replied Marie, unaware that her offer was merely customary and had no real merit. “Was the trip here quite miserable?” she asked Willow with a frown.
“I am afraid that I do not remember most of my journey, I must admit, I fell asleep in the carriage,” she answered sheepishly.
“Oh, you poor girl. You must be exhausted!” declared her aunt sympathetically. “We should get you to bed, then. Rest will do you good. We can worry about showing around tomorrow.” Willow nodded in agreement and allowed Marie to escort her upstairs and down the left corridor, showing her to her room.
“Cecily’s room is directly across from your own,” informed Marie as she opened the bedroom door. “If you need anything in the middle of the night, just ring and the servants would be more than happy to be of service. Get some sleep, child. These days must have been hard on you.”
Willow offered a gentle smile to the woman and sighed as she found herself alone once again. She observed her surroundings, unimpressed at the outward elegance of the large room. She considered changing clothes and slipping into the inviting bed for some rest, but she then spied an oak writing desk and her eyes lit up. She crossed the length of the room and settled herself at the table, searching through the various drawers looking for paper. After finding what she had searched for she dipped her pen in ink and began writing the letter she promised she would send to Xander. As of right then, she did not have much to tell him, other than she missed him terribly, but still, she told him she would write, and write she shall.
A loud knock sounded at her door and she called out an invitation, her attention still very much on her letter. She heard the door open and close and the sound of footsteps drawing nearer but her gaze never wavered.
“What are you doing?” inquired a bored Cecily as she peered over the redhead’s shoulder. “Are you…writing?” she asked incredulously. “Why would you do that? How unladylike,” she added vehemently as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Writing and reading are not unladylike,” Willow countered as she pushed her letter away from her and shifted in her chair to look upon her cousin. “How can one appreciate the beauty of the written word if one is unable to read or write?”
“The beauty of the written word?” she scoffed with a shake of her head. “What do they teach you out in the country? A woman has no need to learn to read or write; it is not proper.”
“It is so,” argued Willow, “I could not imagine going through life without the ability to appreciate the brilliant mind of Shakespeare, his works are absolutely fascinating.”
“Well, I simply do not have the time that you seem to have to lay about, reading nonsense. My life is extremely busy; I do not waste my precious time with flights of fancy. Besides, I find most authors are lacking in talent. In fact, I am forced to endure hours of endless mediocre poetry at nearly every social occasion.”
“Why is that?” asked Willow, “no one can force you to ‘endure’ poetry. And even if they did, why is that a bad thing? I find poetry a beautiful expression of one’s sincerest emotions.”
“Oh, but you have not met William,” the brunette replied with an amused chuckle.
“William?” she questioned in confusion.
“My very own stalker,” Cecily answered with a roll of her eyes. “He is infatuated with me. Everywhere I go, he finds me. He insists on reciting horrible verse to me that he has written. Honestly, I do not know why he persists so. Even if I found him mildly tolerable, he is still not good enough for me. He is not particularly wealthy, and some may find him handsome, I suppose, in a shy and quiet way. He does nothing for me, though. And he is so bothersome. I do my best to discourage his attentions, but he does not seem to understand that I do not care for him.”
Willow really didn’t believe that she discouraged his attentions. In fact, it probably amused her to no end, having someone so obviously devoted to her.
“I am sure he is not as horrible as you say. And what does his wealth have to do with anything?”
“It is everything!” she stated with a shocked gasp. “Really, Willow, what kind of question is that?”
“Well,” Willow answered with a sad shake of her head, “it is my belief that money has no place in love. Why should your feelings for a person be determined by his wealth? Some of the kindest people I have met were also the poorest.”
“That may be a popular belief where you are from, but I am afraid that society operates differently in the city, my dear,” replied Cecily with a scowl. “We cannot just fraternize with suitors who are below our station. It is just not right.”
“But, really Cecily. You are willing to condemn a man because of his station! Do you not think that is wrong? What if he is the one?”
“The one? The one what?” she questioned, honestly perplexed.
“The one who is meant for you, the one who can make you happy for the rest of your days.”
“I fear there is flaw in your logic,” declared Cecily haughtily. “Money can afford you happiness, so a man without it can only bring you misery.” Willow opened her mouth to argue with her but shut it instead. There was no changing the young woman’s opinions, sad as that may be. Waving away the topic with a swish of her hand, Cecily focused on her cousin.
“This is not of any importance,” she decided, “you and I obviously disagree. I can only assume your beliefs have something to do with that poor excuse of a gentleman you insist to call your best friend. I do not know why your parents allowed you to spend so much time with a man who was not even courting you. He is married, in fact. But that is not of my concern, now is it?” she concluded with a half smile. “You will see soon enough how true my words are. You are sure to meet William in a matter of days and he will be proof enough that your beliefs hold no place in London.”
Willow failed to reply and Cecily stood, smoothing down her dress and looking down at the redhead.
“I only came to bid you goodnight. I do hope you sleep well, Willow. Judging from the bags under your eyes, you look like you are in desperate need of a good night’s rest.” With that, the brunette turned and sashayed out of her quarters and into her own.
“Goodnight to you too,” Willow muttered as she slipped out of her dress and into her nightclothes. “Miserable wench…”
Tucking herself into bed, Willow couldn’t help but let her thoughts drift back to her earlier conversation with Cecily. She felt bad for the unfortunate man that fancied himself in love with the vapid socialite. From her description, William seemed like a kind, sweet gentleman. How he fell for Cecily she couldn’t understand. He sounded too nice, too shy to be attracted to her.
Sighing, she leaned over to the nightstand, blowing out the remaining candle and sank into the mattress. It was times like these, when she had only her thoughts to keep her company, that she missed Xander and Cordelia the most. Maybe in the morning she would speak with her aunt about inviting her best friend for a visit.
3/?
“I am so sorry that Cecily could not join us today,” said Marie as she and her niece walked the cobblestone streets of London. “She told me she was terribly busy, but I know she wished she could be with us.”
“It is not an issue, Aunt,” assured Willow, her hands awkwardly playing with the rich fabrics that made up her dress. She was not used to such fine clothing, the vibrant emerald silk brought out her eyes and accented her hair wonderfully, she almost felt like a princess.
“Well, we shall not let her absence spoil the day,” declared Marie with a determined nod. Truthfully, Willow was quite happy to spend the day alone with her aunt; she could only tolerate Cecily’s meaningless conversation so long. Besides, now that she was living with the brat, she tried to limit their time together as much as possible.
Marie smiled at the slight redhead as they walked through the sunny streets. Turning her head sideways to face the girl, she spoke again.
“I promise you will love it here. I know it must be difficult, having your life change so drastically, but everything will turn out as it should. In the meantime, I will do my best to make your stay as comfortable as possible, and—oh!” she exclaimed as she ran into a man’s body in mid stride.
“Oh, my, I’m terribly sorry,” stammered a nervous voice, his tone shaky. “I am afraid I was not watching where I was going.” He looked up with his eyes, his head bowed, and the look of concern on his face changed to that of embarrassment. “Mrs. Adams, I did not realize it was you. You must accept my apology…”
Marie smiled at the young man before her. She patted him on the shoulder, trying to assure him that she was not angry with him.
“William, it is no trouble,” she added gently. “It was an accident, there was no harm done.” Willow watched the exchange intently. Could this man be the William that her cousin had spoken of? He was so quiet, so eager to please. She couldn’t ignore the fact that he was quite handsome, contrary to what Cecily said. His sandy blonde hair fell like a curtain across his face, hiding his eyes from her view. His posture was very non-threatening, he practically radiated insecurity. His shoulders were hunched; head bowed in apology, his hands clutched each other nervously.
“How horribly rude of me!” exclaimed Marie suddenly, startling both Willow and William. “William Ashton, this is my niece,” she said, gesturing to the small redhead beside her, “Miss Willow Rosen. Willow, this is Mr. William Ashton. Willow is staying at my home indefinitely and is quite new to London. I was just taking her out to get a feel of the city.”
William bent at the waist slightly, bowing to Willow and taking her offered hand, placing a tiny kiss on it and letting her go.
“It is lovely to meet you, Miss Rosen,” he murmured softly, granting her a sheepish grin. “Although I do wish our meeting would have been under less embarrassing circumstances. I am afraid I have a tendency towards clumsiness,” he admitted, his cheeks blushing lightly.
“I assure you, Mr. Ashton, I do not judge a person by their gracefulness, or lack there of,” she replied with a small chuckle. He reluctantly joined in her laughter and Marie looked on with a smile. “And please, call me Willow. Where I am from, we do not rely on such formal addresses.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Willow,” he told her, brushing his hair away from his face and granting her a view of his gorgeous blue eyes. “Do call me William.” He smiled slightly and straightened his stance. “You must forgive me, but I must be going. I have errands to run for my mother today.”
“How is she?” inquired Marie softly. “I heard she was unwell.”
“That she is,” he confirmed sadly, his countenance darkening. “She is not doing well, I am afraid. But I am doing all I can to ensure the betterment of her health.” Marie nodded sympathetically and laid a hand on his arm.
“Give her my best. She is indeed a lovely woman.” He smiled his thanks. “I will tell Cecily that we ran into you,” she offered, knowing the poor boy was infatuated with her daughter. While she did not approve of her child’s treatment of the sweet young man, she understood that no matter how Cecily was with him, he was still enamored with her. Marie did all she could to make him feel better.
William frowned a bit, looking to the ground, “I doubt she would care,” he whispered to himself but Willow too heard his sorrowful statement. “Thank you Mrs. Adams,” he said more loudly and then bid his farewell as he left to do his business.
“Poor boy,” the older woman muttered, “he tries so hard.” Willow silently agreed, internally fuming at her cousin’s harsh treatment of the young man. From what she saw of William, he was quiet but so sweet. She couldn’t understand why Cecily was so determined to hurt him so, just for thinking himself in love with her. Could she not see the pain he was in? The better question would have been did she even care?
“He seems very nice,” said Willow.
“That he is,” Marie agreed. “I feel for him. He is so soft-spoken, and he usually finds himself the brunt of jokes because of his penchant for poetry. Sad really.”
“That is a shame,” replied her niece, slipping her arm through the crook of her aunt’s elbow and they started walking again. “It is truly rare when you can find one who really appreciates the fine arts such as poetry. No one should be mocked for having a passion.”
“I believe you are right,” she said, then shook her head, determined to move on from their rather somber discussion. “Now, you told me there was something you wished to ask?”
“Oh, yes,” Willow answered, remembering the favor she wanted. “It is just that…do not think me ungrateful, you have been nothing but welcoming, but I…you have to understand, I am a bit homesick and miss my friends desperately, but there is no way for me to go back home, so…” she rambled, unsure if she should be asking for something so soon after moving here. After all, she owed her aunt for giving her a place to stay.
“You were wondering if your friends could visit?” her aunt finished with a grin. “Do not fret so, child. I would love to have your friends over. In fact, we are having a dinner party in a little over a week. Please extend an invitation to Alexander and his wife. I know they must be missing you immensely.”
“Thank you!” she exclaimed, impulsively hugging her aunt tightly. Marie giggled at her enthusiasm and returned her embrace.
“Do not be so surprised, Willow. I know it has been an age since we have seen each other, but I am no overbearing wench,” she added lightly. “You can ask me for anything. I know your relationship with my daughter is trying, but I am more than willing to be of help. I am well aware that Cecily is a bit much to handle, but do not be afraid to come to me.”
“I did not mean to imply anything,” she stated hastily, “it is simply that I have practically been on my own for so long that I am unused to coming to others for permission for anything,” she confessed.
“You are not alone any longer, Willow.”
Upon returning to their home, Willow climbed the stairs to her room and placed the new gowns she received from her aunt in her armoire. Sitting at her desk she quickly scribbled a note to Xander, inviting him and Cordelia to the city for the coming week. She rang for the butler who came quickly and she handed him the note along with the letter she had written the previous night, asking him to have it sent with the post the next day.
Willow looked around her room and found nothing else that needed to be done, so she left quietly and silently went down the stairs, listening to all the sounds that were made in the house during the afternoon. Murmuring could be heard coming from the kitchen and dining area as dinner was being prepared. As she descended the staircase, she caught the sound of a private conversation between her aunt and her cousin. Halting her steps, she remained on the staircase and eavesdropped, even though her brain screamed that it was awfully improper.
“Willow and I ran into Mr. Ashton, today,” informed Marie casually. “I told him I would tell you hello for him.”
“Why did you do such a thing?” she replied with disdain. “You are simply encouraging him.”
“I do not understand your need to cut him down, Cecily. He is a lovely young man.”
“I do not have to justify my actions, mother,” she replied indignantly. “And what did young Willow think of our poet?” she asked with a tinkle of laughter.
“She liked him, found him quite pleasant, in fact,” defended Marie adamantly.
“She would,” she answered with a snort. “It does not take much to impress the girl. Look at the company she keeps, her little friend…Xander, is it? Not exactly the gem of high society.”
“That reminds me,” replied Marie conversationally, used to her daughter’s tactless responses. “I invited Alexander and his wife to dinner next week. Do be a dear and ready the invitations.”
Cecily glared at her mother. She didn’t do work, that was what they had servants for. She relented a bit when she saw the glint in Marie’s eyes.
“Anything you say, mother,” she replied curtly and left the parlor in a huff.
4/?
“Xander?” called a concerned Cordelia as she joined her husband in the dining room. The young man looked up at the sound of his name, but his sad expression did not waver. “What is the matter, Xander?”
“It is quiet,” he mumbled with a frown. “It never used to be this quiet here. Especially at dinner.”
“Well, it is just the two of us, now. I suppose that is the cause for the sudden quiet,” she said understandingly.
“I am sorry, Cordy. I…I just miss her. We did not spend more than a day apart when we were growing up, now Willow is not even in the same city. I cannot help but feel a bit lost.”
“I know, Xander,” she replied with sympathy. “I miss her as well, but she had no choice but to leave. Besides, it is not like we shall never see her again. She moved to London, she did not die,” she added curtly. Xander chuckled at his wife’s rather blunt assessment of their problem.
“So true,” he admitted with a weak smile. “Why is it that you always know what to say?”
“It is a gift,” she answered with an enigmatic smile. He reached for her hand, holding it tightly in his grasp and granting her a grin.
“Sir?” interrupted a hesitant voice of an older gentleman at the doorway. “I have the post for the day,” he continued, handing Xander the letter addressed to him and then promptly leaving the couple alone once again.
“Who is it from?” Cordelia asked curiously as she peeked over Xander’s form.
“Willow,” he replied with a brilliant smile. “Seems the poor girl is bored,” he added with a laugh. He scanned her letter, happy to know that she was well, not exactly happy just yet, but becoming slowly accustomed to her new home.
“Her aunt has invited us to a dinner party she is having in a week or so. Willow says it is her aunt’s attempt to formally introduce her to London society.” Cordelia tried to stifle a chuckle, knowing how much the redhead despised having the spotlight put on herself.
“See, I told you we would see her again, and in only a week,” she reminded him with a self-congratulating nod.
“And you were correct once again,” he replied as he leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I will send a note informing her of our attendance with the post tomorrow.”
“I am sure Willow is as eager as you are for us to be reunited, even if it is only for a short while.”
“But I fear that leaving her there when it is time to return home will be most difficult.”
“Do not worry about such things, Xander,” entreated Cordy, “Just be happy that we get to see her so soon after her departure.”
“I suppose you are right,” he sighed. Cordelia’s eyes lit up as a new idea came to her.
“You know what this means, do you not?” she asked eagerly. Xander still looked as confused as ever. “I get to go shopping for a new gown!”
Willow watched people pass her by and smiled. It was mid afternoon and she found herself content to sit in the park and observe everyone around her. She had never seen such an active city before and found it utterly fascinating. There were mothers and fathers taking their children for leisurely strolls through town, older gentlemen discussing the weather, young couples, usually with a chaperon following steps behind, holding hands and simply reveling in the presence of the other. The redhead had discovered years ago that people watching was one of her favorite activities. She couldn’t help the twinge of heartache she felt as she saw all these people, friends and families, together, laughing and enjoying the beauty of the day.
She missed Xander, she missed the way he could always cheer her up with a well-placed joke or sympathetic ear. She knew she would see him in a little over a week, but that did not make her feel better. After all, he would leave her just as soon as the dinner was over. She wished he was here with her. She had no one to share her feelings with, no one to have meaningless conversation with; no one she could just be herself around. Her aunt was a nice enough woman, but she needed a friend. Someone her own age, who could understand what it felt like to be an outsider. London was beautiful; a place she always wanted to visit, but it wasn’t home. All she really wanted to do was go home. Unfortunately, that was out of the question. She feared she would just have to get used to loneliness.
“Miss Rosen?” asked a quiet, hesitant voice from her right. Willow looked up and smiled at the man standing before her.
“Mr. Ashton, you are looking well,” she greeted, gesturing with her hands for him to sit beside her.
“You are looking lovely, as well,” William said with a small smile. “What brings you here?”
“Here, as in London, or here, as in the park?” she asked with a cheeky grin. He stammered and blushed a bit, still a little nervous around her; after all, he only met her a few days before.
“Well, I meant the park,” he clarified, “but now you have me wondering what circumstances could have brought you to London.”
“As for why I am in London, sadly my parent’s passed away only weeks before. I was forced to move after it was decided that my home was to be sold,” she confided, her head down. Shaking herself out of her melancholy mood, she continued, forcing a lighter tone into her voice. “As for the park, well, this is the first day I have been left to my own devices and since I do not know anyone in the city, I found myself sitting here alone enjoying one of my favorite pastimes.”
“And what pastime is that?” he asked curiously.
“Watching,” she said, looking from him to all the people around them. “It is fascinating, really. Seeing how people interact with each other when they are outside of stressful social occasions, when they are not expected to impress anyone, when they are free to simply be themselves.”
“I am sorry to hear about your loss,” he said after a moment of silence. She smiled sadly.
“Thank you,” she replied, “I am afraid I was not particularly close to my parents because of their constant traveling, but that does not make accepting their deaths any easier.”
“I understand,” he added, “I did not know my father very well, I was quite young when he passed. It has been just my mother and I these past years.”
“Is she unwell?” she questioned softly. “I heard my aunt mention something,” she clarified.
“She is ill,” he whispered, “and the doctor cannot seem to find anything to help her. I spend most of my days at her side, trying to make her feel more comfortable, more at ease.”
“I am sure she appreciates your devotion to her,” Willow said.
“That she does,” he replied, giving her a small smile. “How are you enjoying your time here?” he inquired, pushing their previous topic aside.
“It…well, to be quite honest,” she started with a frown, “I find most people here are too concerned with their reputations and outward appearances. It all seems so shallow to me.” He nodded in a silent agreement and urged her to continue.
“I miss my friends,” she added, her head down, “I did not have many, mind you, but we were extremely close. They were more like my family than my actual relatives. My best friend, Alexander,” she said with enthusiasm, “I have known him all my life; he is like a brother to me. He married our other friend, Cordelia. She and I were more of…acquaintances before their wedding, but since, she and I have grown closer. She is good for him. He is very easy going, loves to make everyone laugh. She balances him out; she is a little more serious, more grounded.”
“They sound nice,” he said wistfully. “I remember when I was five, my uncle was visiting our home and he had a son, Michael. We would spend the afternoon running around, playing games, hiding from our parents. He and I were best friends, inseparable. I have not seen him in four years,” he finished quietly.
“Why ever not?” she asked, turning to face William.
“He left for Venice one year,” he explained with a shrug, “while he was there, he met a woman, fell in love, got married, decided to stay.”
“Someone always is left behind,” she said to herself. “Is there no one else you can call a friend?” William looked away from those knowing green eyes, deciding instead to study his shoes.
“There are…acquaintances,” he said, “but I would not call them friends. It has been difficult for me to meet people who look beyond my social standing to the man.”
“That is why I miss home,” she admitted, “no one worried about money or classes,” she reminisced, “Everyone knew your name, watched out for you. I find that those in the city are too busy trying to impress everyone to care about the real person, you know, inside. It is a shame.” Willow looked away for a moment to the darkening sky, watching the sun begin to set. She let out a sigh and moved to stand, causing William to stand as well.
“I should be going home,” she told him with a half smile. “It is getting late.”
“Allow me to escort you?” he offered, extending his arm. She smiled and wrapped her arm around his, letting him lead her away from the park.
They walked in silence, Willow alternately staring at the sky and William.
“May I ask you something?” she broke in after awhile. He looked at her considering her question but finally nodded. “I fear this may be a bit personal, so you do not have to answer.”
“It is alright,” he told her sincerely, “Go ahead.”
“Why her?” she mumbled.
“Pardon?” he replied, totally confused. Sighing, she answered.
“Cecily, why her?” He stumbled at her question and looked at her in surprise.
“Well, I…um,” he stuttered before shaking himself and trying his best to give her an honest answer. “She…Cecily is very beautiful,” he started softly. “She is graceful and elegant. She took my breath away when I first saw her. She is my muse,” he whispered.
“Please do not think me out of my place,” she said gently, “but those do not seem like good reasons why you love her. Beauty fades, and even if she remains as she is for the rest of her days, her looks do not overshadow her attitude,” Willow replied. “She thinks herself better than most, myself included. She treats people horribly,” she added with a pointed look. “I know it is your life, and I have no right to judge, but you deserve better. You have been nothing but kind to me and you barely know me. She does not deserve your love.”
He looked taken aback, for a moment. No one had ever defended him like that.
“Thank you for your concern,” he replied, “but I am not sure that you are correct. If anything, I do not deserve *her*.” Willow made an attempt to interrupt but he stopped her. “I do not truly expect for her to change her mind where I am concerned, but I do not love her any less. I cannot bring myself to,” he confessed. “I have spent so long with this feeling; I fear that if I was rid of it, I would be empty.”
“William, I-” she started but he stopped her.
“Please, can we not discuss this any further,” she bit her lip and nodded. He granted her a tight smile, trying to show her he was not angry with her. They finished their walk in silence. As they reached her front door, she tugged on his arm as he moved to leave.
“Can I ask you one favor?” she inquired softly.
“Yes, of course,” he answered.
“You told me that there are not any who you can call a friend,” she stated, “but can you bring yourself to deem me a friend?” He smiled shyly and bowed his head.
“I think I can do that,” he responded with a boyish grin. “Goodnight, Miss Willow,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her hand.
“Goodnight, William,” she said in turn, watching him walk down the steps and onto the street, stopping only a second to wave a small goodbye. Smiling, Willow opened the front door and slipped inside quietly, hoping no one noticed her long absence. She was beginning to find London tolerable; now that she had a person she could call a friend.
5/?
“May I speak with you?” inquired Cecily, her voice unusually quiet but her eyes were hard as she looked to Willow. The redhead nodded her agreement and followed her cousin into her bedroom. Willow looked around for a place to sit in Cecily’s room, but the brunette had taken the only available seat, so she contented herself to stand.
Willow had returned from her outing to the park to find that supper was ready and was quite happy to find that no one was suspicious about her long absence during the day, the latter of which was spent with William. At least she thought no one had noticed how long she had been gone, obviously she had been wrong.
“There was something you wished to tell me?” she started as Cecily remained silent.
“Where were you today?” she asked bluntly, “I came to your room to invite you to tea but you were not there. Then you proceed to come home after dark, with no word of where you had been or what you had been doing. So, I must ask, where were you today?”
“I was craving fresh air, quite desperately, actually,” Willow admitted, noncommittally. “I decided to go for a walk.”
“Alone?” she prodded.
“Yes, alone,” she answered truthfully. “I wandered into a park, where I proceeded to sit and watch the citizens of this lovely city pass me by. Then I returned home.”
“You found your way back here by yourself? I find that very unbelievable,” Cecily said, her voice sounding slightly humorous but her face like stone.
“What is it that you find so unbelievable, cousin?” Willow retorted, rather annoyed at her comment.
“You have never been to London, and have never been out of the house without either my mother or another by your side. You simply do not know how to find your way back, especially if you were merely wandering around, like you said. I know you, Willow, and I remember your tendency to get confused and disoriented so easily,” she added with a slight smirk, “I do not believe you found your way back on your own.”
Willow clenched her fists, resisting the urge to smack her. She so hated her petty little jabs.
“Well, you are partially correct,” she admitted, “I did have an escort.”
“Yes, you did, did you not?” she said, any semblance of a smile immediately disappearing from her face as she stood. “And just who, may I ask, was so generous as to take time out of their day to show my little cousin her way around?”
“I am afraid that is none of your business,” Willow argued. Cecily obviously knew who had escorted her home and Willow did not want to listen to her belittle William simply because he was kind to her.
“And wherever did you get that idea?” she asked snidely. “You are but a guest in *my* house. I have every right to know who was at our door this evening.”
“Why is this so important to you?” Willow asked, out of the blue. “Why does it matter to you who was kind enough to walk me home?”
“So he was kind?” Cecily stated, her gaze calculating as she walked slowly toward Willow, encircling the redhead as she continued, “A real gentleman, was he? Yes, my William can be such the gentleman…” she said with a grin.
Willow tried to look disinterested, but Cecily’s mention of *her* William made her stomach turn.
“Did he offer you his arm as he led you home? Did he speak quietly, in that tone of voice that you knew was meant only for your ears? Did he bare his soul?” Cecily eyed her cousin and shook her head. “May I ask you a question?” she added casually.
“I cannot stop you,” mumbled Willow.
“Did William tell you about his poems? Did he tell you how much they mean to him? Who they are written about? Did he recite one to you?” she finished, her head cocked to the side, a condescending smile on her lips.
Willow remained silent, biting the inside of her lip to keep quiet.
“No, I do not suppose he did,” Cecily said with a shrug. “After all, he does not care for you. Do not let his manners or polite nature fool you, dear. The kisses on the hand, the blushes, the smiles, those were not for you. He was raised a proper gentleman, he would bestow that kind of attention on our maid if presented with the opportunity. But the poems, awful as they are, they are special. That is the real William, the shy bumbling boy. He does not share that part of himself with those he does not care for. Tell me, did he tell you of his work, his writing?”
“No, he did not,” she answered quietly, looking away from the brunette’s penetrating gaze.
“He would not,” she replied with a grin. “So what did you two talk about, I wonder? Oh! Did he speak of me?” she asked smugly.
“Yes actually,” she admitted and upon seeing her face light up, Willow felt the need to add something. “We spoke of your poor attitude and lack of class,” okay, she knew she was lying a bit, but Cecily deserved it. Besides, that had been said, those words only came from Willow’s mouth, but that didn’t matter.
“Is that so?” she responded with a glare. “Somehow I believe that conversation was rather one sided, yes?” Cecily took a step forward, standing directly in front of Willow, and reached a hand to grasp her chin, forcing her to look at her when she spoke.
“Let me tell a secret, cousin,” Cecily whispered mockingly, “William would never disparage me, he loves me. Any kindness he showed you was because you are my family. A rather poor attempt at getting my attention, I will admit, but that does not matter. You, my poor plain cousin, are a means to and end to him. He probably thinks that if he impresses you, that you will put in a good word for him when we next saw each other. Do not fool yourself into believing he cares for you.” With a pat on the cheek, the brunette smiled brightly and stepped away, moving gracefully across the room to her vanity.
“Why do you care?” Willow asked, honestly confused.
“About what?” Cecily answered over her shoulder.
“Why do you care what I think of him? Why does it bother you, the idea that he is not pining over you every second of the day? You despise him, you said so yourself. What does it matter to you?”
“Is that what you think, that I am…jealous?” she asked with a hearty laugh. “Oh, Willow, thank you. I have not laughed so hard in ages.” Willow watched through narrow eyes as Cecily spun slowly to face her from across the room.
“I was simply telling you this for your own good,” she added, trying her best to look sincere. “You are family, after all. It is my duty to watch out for your well being. I fear that you may be finding yourself a bit enamored with my poet,” she continued, “though I cannot fathom why. But that is beside the point. I am trying to spare your heart, dear. You are only setting yourself up to be hurt. He does not care for you, he does not love you. He has fallen for me, has confessed his deep feelings for me. Now, I know he and I shall never be. He is simply not good enough for me, but he cannot stop himself from loving me.” With a frown she continued in a low voice.
“Could you handle being second best?” Cecily asked. “If you were to become a couple, if he decided to court you, could you stand knowing he is only doing so because he could not have me? Could you bear hearing him tell you that he loves you, when you know that those words were not meant for you?”
Willow listened to her speak and tried to remain strong. She did not know exactly how she felt about William, but Cecily seemed to think that William would never want her. Cecily was his muse, he said so himself, and Willow…wasn’t.
“Do not think me cruel, Willow,” said Cecily gently, though inside she was cheering. “I am only being honest. And if you ask yourself, you shall know I speak the truth.”
“I do not…we are not…” stammered Willow, “William and I have only just met. Whatever feelings you may think I have for him do not exist. We are but friends.”
“You always did have poor taste in friends,” Cecily sneered. Turning away from the redhead, she reached for her brush. “Do be going, I am ever so tired.”
Willow did not need to be told twice. She left the room in a hurry, walking across the hall into her own room. As she readied herself for bed, two questions kept running through her head. Was Cecily right? Would she be nothing more to him than second best?
6/?
Marie watched her niece as she moved about the house that morning. While the girl had never been what one might call outgoing, she always had a smile on her face. But today that ever present aura of happiness that just seemed to pour from her was absent. Marie found herself worried about what might have caused such a change in Willow, but was unsure how to approach the topic. The redhead remained silent through most of the day, only answering questions and conversing with others in the simplest manner.
Cecily, on the other hand, seemed to be in a wonderful mood. She had woken this morning and greeted her mother with a radiant smile on her face before joining her for breakfast. But unlike Willow, the brunette did not remain within the confines of their home. A little after having breakfast and readying herself for the day, she left with a young gentleman, no more than twenty years old. He was some aristocrat’s son and Marie could not even recall his name. Her daughter was not expected home until dinner and she fully expected Willow to spend her afternoon in town as well, but the redhead made no move to leave.
Striding into the parlor, Marie smiled at her niece when the girl lifted her head to see who had joined her.
“Are you quite all right?” Marie asked softly, honestly worried at seeing the dull look in her eyes.
“I am fine,” Willow replied with a forced smile. “Are you well?”
“I seem to feel much better than you do, dear,” she concluded with a disapproving look. “Something is bothering you; please tell me what it is. I cannot help unless you tell me.”
“You cannot help, even if I told you,” Willow admitted with a sigh. “Do not take it personally,” she pleaded, “but I am afraid this is something only I can deal with. It is…personal.”
“I understand,” said Marie, grasping Willow’s hand in her own and squeezing in a show of support. “But if you ever need an ear, come find me?”
“Of course,” she agreed with a loving smile. Marie stared at her for a moment before the ringing of the bell at the front door sounded. The older woman granted her niece one last smile before standing to see who had paid them a visit. Willow waited a moment before standing as well and following her aunt’s path to the entry way.
“Mr. Ashton,” Marie greeted warmly as the butler ushered him inside. “Lovely to see you.”
“It is lovely to see you, as well, Mrs. Adams,” greeted William with a bow of his head. Willow watched their interaction from the doorway, unnoticed by the pair.
“I am afraid that, if you have come to see my daughter, she is not home,” she informed him, apologetically.
At the mention of Cecily, Willow’s face fell and she shifted nervously, debating whether or not to remain where she was. Of course he would be here for Cecily, why else would he pay them a visit? He was in love with the girl, she admitted to herself, no matter how much of a vacuous, spoiled little brat she could be.
“Yes, well,” stammered William, “while I would never turn down the chance to see Cecily, she is not why I am here,” he confessed with a sheepish grin.
“Oh, I am terribly sorry,” exclaimed Marie, “Forgive me for assuming.”
“There is no need for forgiveness,” he admonished softly.
“What can I help you with then, Mr. Ashton?” said Marie as she led him further into her home, causing Willow to lean back into the shadows.
“Actually, I had hoped to speak with your niece, Willow. Would that be alright?” he inquired shyly.
“Of course that would be alright, come, sit down,” she answered, escorting him into her parlor and signaling for the maid to find her niece.
Willow was still in her hiding place in the dining room when the maid found her there. Offering the girl a gentle smile, the maid called to her.
“Miss?” the middle-aged woman said timidly. She liked Willow, she was much nicer than her other mistress, but she still remained shy around the new girl. “Your presence is requested in the parlor. You have a guest.” Nodding silently, she smiled gratefully at the woman and walked slowly to the room.
“Aunt Marie? You called for me?” she stated as she entered the room, consciously avoiding William’s form as he stood to greet her.
“Yes, my niece. Mr. Ashton wishes to speak with you,” Marie said, gesturing to the waiting William.
“Pleasure to see you, Mr. Ashton,” Willow said politely, looking to him but refusing to meet his eyes. She was still considering everything Cecily had told her the night before. She wondered why he was here to see her. If he asked her for help with Cecily, she was tempted to smack him.
William frowned at her reserved tone and the fact that she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Marie saw that she was no longer needed and quietly left them alone.
“Call me William, remember?” he asked softly, answered only with a slight nod from Willow. “Would you like to go for a walk?” he offered. She smiled weakly and took his offered arm as he led them out of her house and down the quiet street.
They walked in silence, Willow staring at the ground beneath her feet as William stared at her, a curious expression on his face.
“Have I done something to anger you?” he questioned timidly. He had always been shy and awkward around beautiful women and wondered if he had done or said something to hurt her feelings, although he couldn’t imagine what.
Her head shot up, shock and surprise at his question warring inside her.
“No, William,” she assured him, “you have done nothing wrong.” He smiled in relief and she felt herself grinning in return, then, realizing what she had done, looked away from him again.
“Was there a reason you called for me today?” she mumbled.
“I thought we were friends,” he replied, frowning. “I had hoped you would not mind spending the day with me. If you would prefer to go back home, I will gladly escort you,” he said dejectedly, his head down, hair falling across his face.
“I am sorry,” she said immediately, pulling him to a stop and turning him to face her. “I did not mean to be so…callous. Of course I would love to spend the day with you. I just…I have not had a very pleasant morning. I feel a little—on edge,” she admitted. He smiled understandingly. “I fear I will not be very good company today.”
“Nonsense,” he disagreed, “Besides, it is better for you to get out. It will take your mind off things.”
“May I ask you something?” she asked nervously. He nodded and wondered what she could ask that made her so timid.
“Anything.”
“Do you…are you only spending time with me because I am some substitute for my cousin?” she murmured.
“Why would you think that?” he inquired, honestly confused. “Have I given you reason to believe that my intentions are nothing but honorable?”
“It is not,” she sighed in frustration. “I did not mean that. I—it is simply that someone said something, and it got me to thinking,” she admitted.
“Care to clarify?” he asked with a grin at her rambling.
“I am afraid you shall think me a gossip if I tell you what was said and who said it,” she told him sincerely.
“Never. Please, I want to know who caused you to doubt me,” he replied. He didn’t know why, but this girl was beginning to mean a lot to him. She was the first person in a very long time who ever cared to get to know him. She was the only one who never judged him, never thought him beneath her. In fact, she believed that he was better than all those people who looked down upon him. He needed to know who would try to ruin their budding friendship.
“Cecily,” she whispered, her eyes moving from his to her hands. His face registered surprise and hurt that the woman he had come to love would try to wreck the one good thing he had right now. “She…she saw you walk me home last night. She said that you were only kind to me because I am her family. That if you really thought me a friend, you would tell me of things like your poetry and such. She said you could never come to care for me because I am simply a replacement for her. She told me she was trying to warn me, to watch out for me,” Willow said with a derisive snort. “She did not want me to get hurt.”
“Oh,” was all he could manage to say in response to her admission. He was sad, and quite angry, as well as feeling sympathy for the redhead before him who so obviously believed that there was no way he could befriend her without some ulterior motive. “She was wrong, you know?”
“Was she, because I loathe to admit that she made some valid points? I—I do like you, you have been nothing but the greatest friend to me in the few days we have known each other. But I cannot help but think that she is always on your mind, even while we speak. I understand that you love her, I am not trying to change your mind, but I feel like you will always keep me at a distance; that you will never truly confide in me because I am not who you really want to speak to.”
He did not know what he could say to assuage her fears. He wanted to tell her that he did care for her, that she wasn’t some replacement, but he feared she wouldn’t believe, no matter how truthful he was. He decided to be brave, for once. To open up to her even though he was absolutely terrified about what he was about to do. Slipping her arm around his own, he started walking again, Willow at his side, still looking down, disappointed with his lack of response to her wonderings.
“Willow?” he said softly, his voice shaky as they walked. She hesitantly looked up at him and he tried to smile despite his nervousness. “Would you like to hear some of my poetry?”
And for the first time that day, she truly smiled.
7/?
“Anna?” called Willow as she frantically searched her bedroom. The maid came running through the door, a questioning look on her face. “My gloves, I need my gloves. Have you seen them?” she asked, desperately hoping she had an idea where they might be.
“Which gloves would those be, Miss?” she inquired.
“They are white, with lace trim at the wrist,” she replied. “William will be here in a matter of minutes and I must have my gloves.” Anna grinned at the anxious tone in her voice.
“They sound familiar. I believe I saw Miss Cecily wearing a pair like those yesterday.” Willow glanced past the maid and to the closed door across the hall. Mumbling things that made Anna blush, Willow stalked out of her room and knocked impatiently on Cecily’s door.
The door opened and Cecily stood there, hands on her hips, looking annoyed at being interrupted.
“What do you want?” she asked bluntly, “I having dinner with Mr. Darrow in an hour and I must prepare.”
“Do you have my gloves?” Willow questioned with exasperation. “I need them and have it on good authority that you were wearing them yesterday.”
“Oh, those,” she replied with a dismissive wave. “I simply had none of my own that went with my outfit. They may have been quite plain and common but your gloves served their purpose.” Willow glared at her but did not argue, knowing the brunette would only ignore her anyway.
“May I have them back, please?” she requested with a polite smile.
“Why are you in such a desperate need for gloves? It is not as if you are going anywhere tonight.”
“Actually, I am,” she informed Cecily with a huff. “Please hand them to me?” Rolling her eyes, Cecily walked to her vanity, carelessly picking up Willow’s gloves and dropping them in her hands.
“And where are you going tonight, cousin? Do not tell me you have a suitor I was unaware of?”
“I do not have a suitor,” she said with a sigh, “but—” her reply was cut off as she heard the ringing that signaled someone was at the door. “He is here,” she finished quickly, forgetting all about her cousin as she hurried slipped on her gloves and made her way down the hall and to the stairs.
Curious as to who could possibly be there to escort Willow out for the night, Cecily followed her at a leisurely pace, stopping at the top of the stairs as she watched, hidden, as Willow greeted their guest.
William walked through the front entrance feeling a bit nervous. He was very much looking forward to spending this evening with Willow, but he had to admit that he feared Cecily would make an appearance while he was here and would ruin his rather good mood. Smiling brightly as Willow came down the stairs giving him a tired grin as she greeted him.
“It is so good to see you again,” she exclaimed and he laughed softly as he reached for her hand and placing a kiss on the back of her hand.
“It has been so long since we have seen each other, after all,” he commented with a smirk, “a whole 24 hours, has it been?”
“Hush,” she reprimanded with a chuckle before leaning close to him and whispering in his ear, “you have to know by now that you are the only person, with the exception of my aunt, that makes my stay here bearable.”
He blushed a little, unable to tell her how happy her words really made him.
“Well then, I shall not deprive you of my company any longer,” he whispered with a grin. Giving her his arm and saying a quick goodbye to Marie, he led her to his carriage and away from her home.
Cecily remained at her post, eyes narrowed. So Willow and William were friends now? She was disgusted by the thought. After everything she had said to Willow, the redhead still insisted on becoming friends with him. What a shame. She had hoped her cousin would forget about the useless little poet. Spinning on her heel, she stalked back into her room, slamming her door behind her as she finished readying herself for tonight.
Willow twisted her hands in her lap, she seemed distracted and anxious. William turned his gaze from the scene outside his window to the girl across from him.
“Are you alright?” he asked with worry. She was unusually silent while they traveled and he wondered if something was bothering her. They were to dine at his home tonight, at the insistence of his mother who declared that she must meet the girl that had become her son’s newest and most cherished friend.
“Uh huh,” she replied, more to herself than to him.
“Willow?” he tried again, waving a hand in front of her face. Willow jumped a bit in her seat and then smiled sheepishly as she returned her attention to him.
“Sorry,” she apologized softly. “I did not mean to seem…distant.”
“Is everything alright?” he asked again.
“I,” she started and sighed in frustration, “I am a little nervous,” she admitted. “I mean, you do not make me nervous,” she amended quickly. “It is just that, well, I am about to meet your mother.”
“That is what has you nervous?” he inquired with a laugh. “Honestly Willow, she will love you. I have told her so much about you that she insisted I bring you home for dinner immediately. There is no need to be afraid.”
“I know,” she answered weakly, “but…this is me. I am not good with first impressions. People tend to find me a bit boring and unimpressive.”
“I promise you, there is nothing for you to worry about,” he tried to placate her. “Besides, I have never found you boring and you are anything but unimpressive. Believe me; she is looking forward to meeting you. I have told her only good things about you.”
“Are you implying that there are bad things about me?” she asked with feigned hurt.
“Never,” he answered completely honestly. He reached across the carriage, holding her hand in his own, caressing it lightly. “She could never hate you, because I could never hate you. I,” he told her softly, looking down. “I have never met anyone who treated me as you do, with total respect, caring, and kindness. I know that you were only joking before, but you have made *my* life bearable.”
Willow watched him fidget self-consciously, all the while listening intently to his confession.
“Before I met you,” he continued, “I was surrounded by people who looked down on me. With the exception of my own mother, you are the only one who believed that I deserve that respect you give me. Honestly, it is difficult for me to comprehend why you have spent all this time with me, shared all your personal thoughts with me, and yet you expect nothing in return. I cannot thank you enough for bestowing your friendship upon me.”
Hooking a finger underneath his chin, she made him look into her eyes which reflected her happiness.
“Do not act as if spending time with you is a chore, William. I have never made friends easily; I was always too shy to meet new people. But in you I see a—a kindred spirit, if you will. And I was not joking when I told you that you make my stay bearable. I was quite miserable here before.” Her face fell as she remembered the beginning of her stay in London. “After losing my parents and then having to leave my only friends, I felt very alone. But when I met you, it was like I found someone who could understand how I truly felt, without judging me. You deserve many more friends like me.”
He smiled at her reply and impulsively placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. She squeezed his hand in return and looked decidedly nervous still when the carriage came to a halt. The door opened and William stepped out, holding his hand out for her as she stepped down. Slipping an arm around her waist, squeezing in an attempt to calm her.
“Everything will be fine,” he whispered in her ear before pulling away to lead her by the arm into his home.
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