The Debt (Now on Radish)

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"Father, a word please," I asked as the O'Boyle family followed Annabeth into the sitting room. The two of us traveled down the hall to his study. We needed to talk about Imogen. I recognized her unruly hair the moment she stepped out of the carriage. She spent the majority of her childhood here, laughing and playing with Bambi, Annabeth and I. She stopped coming here with her father when she was eight or nine years old and father never told me why. She was my best friend, and I kept her in my thoughts as I grew older and went away to Cambridge five years ago. I have fantasized about her, about what she would look like as a grown woman, who she would be. I always knew she would be my wife. There was no doubt in my mind that I would take good care of her, even love her. But there are people out for her because of her father's debts.

"Derek, we've talked about this before." My father stated as I closed the door behind us. "I made a deal with her father. He has too many enemies and he trusts me with her life. He trusts you with her life. He knows that you will make her happy."

"I intend to for the rest of our lives, Father!" I exclaimed. "But I cannot protect her from her father's enemies and mine. They will use her against me and I cannot risk her life." It was true. It has been just over a year since we attacked America in an attempt to claim them again. We were defeated, unfortunately. But there were many American soldiers that were out for my blood. I did not need my Fiancé dying as well.

"What do you want me to tell the poor girl, Derek? 'I'm sorry, but my son refuses to wed you. You have too many enemies to add on to his?' She's been through hell, Derek. Imogen was not home when her father passed. She never said goodbye. I know this girl, she's strong. But right now, she's holding on by a thread."

"I am trying to keep her safe." I argued, tugging at my hair.

"She needs your love and compassion." Father shot back. "You can keep her safe and love her at the same time."

"They will kill her if they think I am too close to my wife." I voiced. "I want a life with her. I want children with her, father, you know this. I have loved her since we were children. I promised her father that I would not let anything harm her. If causing her a little pain in our first few years of marriage is necessary to keep her alive, so be it."

"At least properly propose to her." My father called as I walked to the door. "Give me the ring first." I said, and turned on my heals to face him. My father chucked me the box that contained her ring and I caught it. Her father told me that it would not be Scarlet Fever, the horrid killer that took so many in the country. He said that it was his lungs. Something was horribly wrong with his lungs and he knew his time was near. He said that Imogen would be beating herself up because she wouldn't be able to say goodbye to her beloved father.

I walked out of the study and to the sitting room. I would ask Imogen for a private moment, if she would allow it. I was puzzled when I stepped into the room to find it missing a person.

"Where is Miss Imogen?" I asked the crowd. I gripped the box so her mother would not see it.

"She retired early, claimed the voyage exhausted her." Her brother answered. I nodded and turned around. I needed to speak with her, to propose to her. I needed to explain some things to her, and pray that she won't fall in love with me.

I bound up the main staircase and to the second floor. Until we were married, all guest stayed on the second floor. I tentatively knocked on her door. It was the closest to the servant's stairwell. I had fond memories of hiding in the stairwell with her, vain attempts to stall her departure. I never liked being with people. I remember the first time Imogen came to the manor with Clancy. She was four years old. I was seven. She stood behind her father's leg in a checkered dress that stopped at her knees. Her legs were quite scrapped up for a small child and she had a few teeth missing. Bambi was just a little too young to be playing around. But Annabeth saw a new friend in her. She asked our fathers if she could take Imogen up to her room to play. Imogen spied me as I scurried into my room. At that point in my life, I was contempt in staying in my room all day and reading. I was not one for company. Imogen grabbed my leg and begged me to play with them. She said that her own brother couldn't play with her, so she had no one to play with. Fourteen years ago.

"Come in." Imogen called weakly. I opened her door and entered, closing it behind me.

"Imogen," I breathed, watching her. She sat in front of the fireplace, her knees drawn to her chest. She had changed from her traveling gown into a night gown. It was obvious that she had been crying. I crossed the room and sat next to her, kicking off my shoes to match her sock covered feet.

"If someone catches you in here, Derek, we'll be at the chapel by tomorrow afternoon." She whispered sadly.

"Why are you crying?" I asked. She shrugged her shoulders, allowing more of her beautiful red locks to cover her face. I loved to look into her brown orbs, they reminded me of chocolate.

"We don't know each other well enough for you to understand." She whispered. I moved closer to Imogen and grabbed her hand. It had been suck a long time since I ever held her hand.

"On the contrary, Imogen, I know so much about you." I retorted. "Your favorite color is the purple the sky turns at dawn and dusk. Your favorite food is chocolate cake. Your favorite book was Grimm's Fairy Tales. You hate when it rains because you believe that the sun is the most beautiful thing in the world. Family is the most important thing to you because you cannot imagine a day without yours." I brought her knuckles up to my lips and pressed a chaste kiss to them. "You're a very old fashioned young lady, Imogen O'Boyle."

"Those are all very superficial things, Mr. Goddard. If you claim to know me so well, tell me, how many siblings do I have?" She asked.

"Six." I said automatically. I was quite pleased that I knew how many siblings she has.

"Wrong." She snapped. "I have nine."

"What? Are you not the eldest?" I asked. No. This has to be wrong. Imogen is the eldest. I don't think I could love another woman other than her.

"I am the eldest living, but not the first born." She admitted. "My mother had a son when she and my father were first married. He would have been your age and married to your sister. He died a week after his birth. I had a sister. She was nine when she passed away. She would have been your wife. She was so sickly, but she was more proper than I. She saved me life."

"Imogen, it's alright. You don't need to tell me about it." I said to her.

"Yes, I do. I've felt so guilty about it since the day it happened. I could have stopped it." She whispered as tears pelted her knees. "She told me to not play in the road. I wouldn't listen to her. The cart—it came outta nowhere—she shoved meh outta the way—" She choked on her words and started crying. I hauled her into my lap and held her tight. She shouldn't be feeling so guilty over something she had no control over. I am glad she let me in. I am glad I am going to marry her, because I want to protect her from hurt like this at all costs.

"Imogen," I whispered in her ear. "Would you like to go to town with me and Annabeth tomorrow?" I asked her. She nodded once against my neck.

"I would like that very much, Mr. Goddard. I mean, Derek." She said hoarsely. A smile formed on my lips. I would make our marriage work.

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Hello lovelies!

Annabeth up top

An update. I will try and update Meeting Ophelia soone. I swear.

Lots of Love,

DoctorWho