[AN: long chapter, sorry! there wasn't a good split point and I didn't wanna cut out moments with our fav unstable ship hehe]
~~
"Uh, well... how do I look?"
A rush of eagerness hit me when Arthur moseyed uncomfortably out of the dressing room of the Saint Denis tailor, donning a very nice slim-fit tuxedo suit. He was fiddling with a bright white bowtie that was latched crookedly on his collar. I stood up, grinning at the sight.
"Quite handsome, if I do say so myself." I made my way behind him as he ducked his face, standing on my tiptoes to adjust the bowtie. "There. Now you're ready for business!"
Dutch had sent me, Hosea, Arthur, and Bill (in place of John, who absolutely refused to go to the party) to go get some actual dress clothes for the garden party thrown by the mayor. That included a haircut, leaving Arthur looking sharp -- I had to admit, it was a nice change to the usual rugged gunslinger look, though I had already fallen for that as well it seems.
This was a few days after the return of Jack; Arthur and I had pretty much danced around each other for those days; we clearly wanted to talk more, but also didn't really want to let anyone see us together for too long and get talking about us. He was almost always gone away on tasks that Dutch kept throwing at him, anyway, and I'd been doing chores in camp... We didn't even really have time to process together. Even if we did, I don't think we'd know much to say or do. It was a confusing and awkward few days, as you could imagine.
"If the business includes bein' tighter than a stick up the ass, I'll be all set," Arthur grumbled, pulling at the edge of his suit. I couldn't help but laugh at the statement.
"Seriously, you look great." I paused, my hand still on his collarbone after moving to the front to fix his bowtie. He looked down at me, a small smirk upturning the corners of his mouth.
"Ain't you got some dress to try on anyway?" His words pushed me forward, although he didn't move and kept his eyes on mine. My heart fluttered at the look -- we really hadn't had any physical interaction since that fateful night, and I itched just to be able to hold him despite my frustrations with the situation. I could still hardly believe I'd convinced myself to stay, much less attend this posh party with the man I was in a weird, half-romantic situation with.
It's like we were both just barely gliding over the tension that threatened to break our front to everyone. Painful yet thrilling, to say the least. Certainly was making some good poetry inspiration for me.
"Indeed." I forced my hand to drop, snatching the dress I'd been eyeing the whole time, and dipped into the dressing room without another word. Getting it on as quick as I could, I turned to face myself in the mirror. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the first try already was a perfect fit -- that never happens, does it?
It was an emerald green velvety dress that tightened at the waist with a corset design around the waist and flared out, resting comfortably on the hips. It accentuated the figure without being too tight, just how I liked it. There was beautiful lacework across the scooped neckline, including embroidered flowers along and just below the bust that. It paired perfectly with a sunhat and my Mama's locket that rested right at the collarbone. I adjusted everything till it was just right, then stepped out. "Now, I think I like this one!"
Arthur turned from talking with Hosea, who had met him outside the room. His mouth dropped slightly agape, eyes traveling me up and down gradually before clearing his throat to cover it. "Oh, uh... you look... you're--"
"What I think he means is, you look beautiful Ms. Monroe." Hosea stepped forward, giving a knowing look between Arthur and I with a grin. "That's certainly your dress. Come on, let's check out and be on our way."
"Thank you Hosea," I responded warmly, walking towards the cashier. I passed Arthur who was still staring and giggled. "If you take a picture, it'd last longer," I said wryly, nudging his arm.
"Hosea's right -- you look beautiful," Arthur murmured, then straightened up. "Not that you don't usually, but... I mean--"
"Thank you, Arthur." I smiled and squeezed his arm gently as I passed, leaving him quietly cursing himself under his breath for not having words for once. I had to admit, it was kinda fun to see him like that -- making the stoic, hard-pressed outlaw fumble? Now that had to be something noteworthy. Definitely was enough to give my confidence a boost.
I had begun pulling out my satchel to pay for the lovely dress, but Hosea held up his hand. "On me," he assured, glancing at Arthur and then giving me a wink before stepping out of the store. Flattered, I tipped my hat to the cashier and followed them out.
~~
"This way, please gentleman -- and lady. Signor Bronte will be so pleased that you made it."
Our group followed a butler up the steps towards the house. We had just handed our guns over to the man at the gate and were entering the manor. As soon as the doors were open, my eyes felt like they bugged out of my head. It was just as extravagant inside as I expected, with a marble staircase and polished flooring and everything.
"We are honored to be here," Dutch assured.
"Yes, yes... what a beautiful evening it shall be!" The butler cried, leading us down one of the hallways past the stairs. "Mr. Bronte is very good friends with the mayor, you know..."
I got distracted in the meantime, staring at the beautiful and enormous pieces of art that were stuck to the wall. It was only when I heard my name that my attention was caught again.
"--and Ms. Miller, you'll join Arthur and I to go pay our respects to Mr. Bronte." Without looking back, Dutch waved us along; I quickly sped up, just realizing that I had lagged behind.
"We'll wait for you on the balcony," Hosea called, pushing open the large doors to the garden with Bill.
We followed the servant up the stairs and onto a large terrace, where Bronte was waiting with several other well-dressed men. "Ahh, the angry cowboys, you made it... and the lady!" Bronte was as oddly-cheerful as I'd last seen him, flashing his wide grin at us.
"This is quite the party you've invited us to!" Dutch exclaimed, shaking the man's hand. Arthur followed suit, and then me. I tried to hold eye contact only briefly before looking down while Bronte took my hand and planted a kiss upon it gracefully. I could almost feel Arthur stiffening in the background of my vision.
"Yes, quite something -- although I'm not sure what," Bronte chided, letting go of my hand and walking to the guardrail. I took the opportunity to slip beside Arthur, following him to the edge where we looked out together. It was a gorgeous garden, both the largest and most well-kept I'd ever seen. A huge fountain lay at the center where dozens of people were milling about in small groups around it and beyond. There was even a quartet of classical musicians playing their instruments in a small gazebo amidst the crowd.
"So this is Saint Denis high society?" Dutch mused, bracing himself against the guardrail as he looked down. In his oversized top hat and posh outfit, he looked like a true robber baron surveying his kingdom. I got a little uneasy at the thought.
"Apparently so." Bronte took a sip from his glass of wine. He then beckoned one of his guards over, who handed out some cigars to the men. I watched in amusement as Arthur bit the cigar to cut it himself, then grabbed the guard's hand to light it who had walked past him, all the while Bronte began pointing out people to us. "...See that wretch? That's the mayor, Henri Lemieux. He'll do anything for a dollar, and I mean anything. Politics is a foul business..."
I tuned out most of the talk, trusting that I'd just get told what to do at a certain point. That seemed to be Dutch's favorite thing, anyway. I was busy gazing over the party's setup when a sentence finally caught my attention again.
"...and the redskins. Pfft." At Bronte's mention, I followed his pointing hand and felt my throat tighten. It was none other than Rains Fall and his son, Eagle Flies from the Wapiti tribe. They stood by the fountain, shaking hands with some men including the mayor as Bronte continued to talk, waving his cigar around. "I have no sympathy for them, because whoever is stupid enough to be tricked by the Americans -- they get what they deserve, huh?"
I braced myself on the rail, watching intently as Rains Fall handed a letter to the mayor. Even from far away, I could see the dull, tired look in his face. Arthur stepped a bit closer next to me, noticing my visible change in tension and giving me a questioning look.
"Yes, yes, give a letter to the mayor... that'll save you!" Bronte sneered, his guards joining in. With a small glance I noticed Dutch looked a bit unnerved, not taking part in the laughter. I met Arthur's eyes and shook my head, trying to communicate a 'not right now' sort of thing. He seemed to understand, just nodded once and looked back to the men.
They had gone on talking about more business opportunities, but I was busy following my Indian friends with my eyes. They were now in a discussion with the mayor, not looking too happy. Another man stood by them, concern clear in his countenance. It was only a few moments until Arthur nudged my arm to follow them down the stairs.
"Come on, gentleman... let's go ingratiate ourselves," Dutch declared as we met up with Hosea and Bill. "And Ms. Monroe, do what you can; make some friends, get some information, enjoy yourself. We're happy to have you with us."
"Will do," I assured, though my stomach churned at the mischievous glint in his eye.
As soon as it was clear, I made my way into the throng. I cleared past a few groups no problem, but got stopped by the champagne butler... which I accepted a glass, of course. I thought I could quickly get in and out of some conversations, dabbling in small talk and superficial introductions. But to my dismay, as soon as a few people passed and cleared my way to the fountain, it appeared that the chief and his son were already out of sight. Maybe they already left? I sighed, leaning against a tree and taking a sip.
"You seem to be lost, madam?"
I practically jumped in my own skin at the sudden strange-sounding French accent, spinning around -- but instead of seeing some creepy man grinning down at me, it was Arthur. I sighed with relief and lightly punched his arm. "Don't go doin' that -- already heard it a dozen times today," I joked. "How have you gotten on?"
He chuckled. "Well, if you count gettin' a free theatre ticket and savin' a man from choking to death on fancy appetizers as good, then I'm doin' great."
"More interesting than me, that's for sure." I looked back to the fountain, where the man I had seen standing with the Natives was still there next to the mayor. He wore a top had and had impressive sideburns. I wanted to talk to that guy, see why he was with them -- maybe he knew about the latest news with my dad's post and the tribe.
Some drunkard was slurring to the group while we watched, looking a bit hostile. I glanced at Arthur, who was peering at the same man. "That look promisin' to you?" I asked.
"Good way to get us in -- let's go." Arthur confidently strode up to the group -- I was anxious, but it was much easier just to follow his lead than stand there by myself till the next creep came by.
"You're drunk, Ferdinand." The mayor peered at the slurring man through his small glasses. His thick French accent a bit off-putting at first.
"...I'm not drunk! But this man... he loves darkies!" The drunk man cried, slapping a hand on the sideburn guy's shoulder.
"Hey, you are pretty drunk." Arthur had slid up beside the man, putting an arm on his shoulder. In a blink he had the man's arms pinned behind him, one hand on his back. "Let's say you and me cool off for a minute?"
I was left standing there alone as Arthur shoved the stumbling man towards the outer rim of the party. The mayor watched briefly with a grin before turning to me, outstretching his hand. "You must be with him, no?"
"Yes sir." I shook his hand, remembering at the last minute to smile. "Summer Grace Monroe; it's an honor to meet you." My first thought was to slap myself -- should I have used my actual name? Eh, nothing to do about it now...
"Henri Lemieux -- the pleasure is all mine," he said smoothly. I then turned to the other man beside him and the mayor added, "This is Evelyn Miller, do you know him?"
I was suddenly very grateful my actual name had slipped out of my mouth instead -- how would I have explained I was using the same last name as a famous author whose books I'd before with zero connection to me? Flustered, I spoke quickly to accommodate the lapse in my response. "Oh, no, we've never met -- you're the author, right? It's a pleasure to meet you, I've read some of your works!"
Miller smiled at me, shaking my hand. "You as well, Ms. Monroe." He then paused, looking like he was about to say more, but Arthur had just walked up again.
"Thank you, sir!" The mayor exclaimed, shaking Arthur's hand. "Henri Lemieux -- I hope you are enjoying my party."
"The mayor, right?" Arthur motioned to the manor behind him. "It's quite a place you got here."
"It's not mine, and the city is in horrible debt -- but we can put on a good show, no?" The mayor chuckled. He then introduced Arthur to Miller, right as a bout of fireworks began above the water. "Shall we?" He gestured to the sky, turning on his heel to watch.
Explosions of purples, reds, blues, and yellows bursted above our heads, dazzling the night sky with an array of vibrant sparks. "My Lord, they're fantastic!" The mayor cried.
I was instantly enthralled -- I had only seen fireworks a few times, and that was mostly when I was quite young. After Mama died and Dad was always on missions, we hardly got free time to do much anymore...
My reverie was interrupted by the feeling of someone's coat brushing my arm, standing next to me. Without looking, I could tell it was Arthur. My breath caught in my throat when I felt his hand slide down to mine, where we just barely intertwined our fingers. He never initiated physical touch between us, except when we'd kissed those two times... My chest felt warm with comfort as I glanced at him with a soft smile. The bursts of color illuminated his accentuated face, a warm glow against the dark night.
We stood there in silence; I let myself get lost in the colors, the sounds, the feeling of our hands together---
"Did he say something about Cornwall?" I was rudely brought back to reality by Dutch's voice hissing to Arthur about some conversation they'd apparently heard. Arthur jumped, his hand quickly slipping out of mine and tugging on his coat nonchalantly to cover it up. He cleared his throat and nodded to the leader.
"Find out what," Dutch ordered, seeming not to notice (or care, if he did).
"Sure." Arthur was already steps away before I fully turned back, wistfully feeling his absence in the space beside me. Before I could really process the moment or ask Dutch what that was about, Evelyn Miller had stepped up beside me.
"Ms. Monroe... you don't happen to know Captain Monroe, do you?"
Uh oh.