A Midsummer Night's Deal - Thomas Shelby x OFC - Peaky Blinders

9.

The way his eyes fell to her neck, his fingers almost tracing the diamonds on her choker, let out no space for any doubts of what his true proposition was.

Speak .

Leonor took a step back, before closing her coat tight around her body. "Oh, so this is why people here talk about you." She chuckled, letting out a dry laugh just as Diana was returning. "Thank you for the invite, Mr. and Mrs. Mosley. I'm afraid this is as far I can take for an evening but I'll be sure to let Mr. Shelby know just how much fun I had."

With that, she turned her back to them and stepped outside, shielding her eyes from the flashes of the few remaining photographers who waited by the steps.

"Leonor, come." Thomas appeared out of nowhere, pulling her hand towards the waiting car. He had kissed her by the dance floor, then stood around for less than a minute before leaving her again and now returned, as if nothing had just happened. "Fetching the car took longer than expected."

"I noticed." Leonor sighed, then frowned. "How's your head?" She asked as the car made its way back to the manor.

"Aching." Dry, as usual.

"Maybe you shouldn't drink this much." She pondered, trying to find a reason for the pain. "Or eat and sleep more." Leonor smiled at him, crossing her hands on her lap. "Also, speaking on sleeping, do you mind if I sleep on the way back?"

"No, please, be my fucking guest. I could use the silence." Thomas jabbed as he lighted his cigarette, looking out the window. He heard her scoff and even felt her eyes on the back of his head, and was about to turn to face her when he remembered how she danced alone with Jack Nelson and stood one-on-one with both Oswald and Diana, the news running as fast as usual when you're a Shelby. "Matter of fact, no, stay awake, I want to ask you a few things."

Turning his head, he found her with her back turned to his, leaning her head on the window, her eyes already closed. "Leonor?" He called out, but she didn't reply to him, whether she was asleep or awake, Thomas knew he wouldn't get an answer from her to any of his questions now.

But it was now later, they made it home, and yet the silence remained.

"Welcome back, Mr. Shelby." Mary was the first to break it, taking their coats. "Shall I run your bath, Mrs. Shelby?"

"Yes, Mary. Thank you." Leonor stretched her arms, then brought her hands to the clasp of her necklace, it suddenly felt too tight around her throat.

Thomas groaned, slouching on the couch, and fumbled around his torso for his lighter. "You didn't like it?"

She looked at him and remained silent, to which he chuckled, nearly rolling his eyes before waving his hand, like a priest blessing a sinner after a confession. "You don't have to be silent anymore, me head's fine."

"Sit, roll, play dead, speak, dog ." Leonor scoffed, still struggling with that damn clasp. "That's all you and your associates see me as, as a dog doing tricks to amuse you as you please."

"You seemed to have fun dancing with Jack Nelson." Thomas quickly changed the subject, his specialty. "Did he treat you like a dog as well?"

"Were you jealous, Thomas?" She teased, giving up on the choker. "That's why you're being so mean with me?"

" To you." Thomas corrected her, signaling for her to approach with two fingers as he stood up from the couch, circling around and Leonor sat down.

"So you agree," Leonor lifted her hair, getting goosebumps when his hands grasped her neck. "You're being mean to me."

Thomas realized what she had done, something that wouldn't have happened if his head hadn't been clouded by the booze, the usual worries, and now added the achiness.

"Very well, Mrs. Shelby." His fingers tested the clasp, before releasing her neck from the choker. "What did he say to you?"

"Mr. Nelson or the Mosleys?" She asked, stroking her neck, before her hand was replaced by Thomas's, but his hands were not as soothing as hers, they were almost rough.

"All of them." His tone was harsh, it was obvious in his aching head that he meant all of his associate.

"We just danced, Mr. Nelson and I." Leonor shrugged. "He's a terrible dancer, but was strangely polite."

"And the Mosleys?"

"They were just as you were to expect them, hideous. Diana kept mentioning your... sample ." Leonor grabbed his hand and pushed it away from her neck, he was hoping she wouldn't bring the cause of his divorce up. "And Oswald suggested me to get one of my own."

Thomas's head tilted to the side, as his jaw clenched, glaring down the back of her head, blowing the smoke from his cigarette.

"He what?"

"I know, so crass, it was truly inappropriate." Leonor stood from the couch, squeezing her shoulder blades together, feeling a satisfying crunch from her back as he followed her through the room. "But of course, I turned it down."

He laughed at her as if there was any other viable choice, his laugh wasn't of amusement, but of disbelief. "Of course you did."

"Yes, husband, of course, I did. Even though our marriage is an act, I'll still act as a married lady." She hardened her face, crossing her arms, bothered by his hypocrisy. "You should know I expect the same of you."

Thomas wasn't laughing anymore. Does she expect me to turn to fucking celibacy as long we're married?

"She disgusts me, just the very thought makes me sick."

That's some progress, he thought, considering he took no pleasure in it, but did she mean all women or just Diana?

He had married Leonor but their marriage hadn't even been consummated yet, they barely slept in the same room, and he had kissed her twice. Once the wedding day and today, both times were on the sense of making a statement, like completing a task on a list.

"Are you jealous, Mrs. Shelby?" Truly, his ability to change the subject was astonishing, it never failed to impress Leonor.

"Let's make it simple, Thomas, so even you in that state can understand me: if she ever gets another sample of you, you can't forget about ever getting one out of me." She stopped by the handrail, leaning in, shrugging. "I think that's fair."

Thomas placed both his hands in his pockets, immersed in deep thoughts, as he usually did, taking his time, suddenly sobering up. "We should talk about your expectations tomorrow, Leonor."

"Of course we should." Leonor mimicked his tone, chuckling as she walked up the remaining steps.

She thanked Mary for the bath and slowly sunk herself into the warm water, soaping up her arms, relieved that the night was over.

Leonor closed her eyes, attempting to shut out the world as the warm water embraced her. The echo of the evening lingered in her mind, the insinuations and provocations. A marriage built on appearances, yet expectations were thrust upon her. Why should there be only one way around?

Not a few minutes later, her mind began to dread the fact that even though she was so bloody tired, she wouldn't be able to sleep peacefully on her bed, once again.

And neither was her husband.

They never mentioned, but Leonor could hear him awake in the middle of the night, in his room or his study, from time to time.

Alone.

At least of that, she was certain.