Long chapter, 🧸 with me
Thank you all for reading!
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The first light of dawn filtered weakly through heavy curtains, casting a soft silver glow in the dim room. Thomas Shelby awoke, his eyelids heavy, his body weary from yet another restless night. He couldn't recall the last time he had enjoyed a full night's sleep.
As usual, he had spent hours tossing and turning, his mind consumed by thoughts of the past, present, and future. The upcoming gala orchestrated by Diana weighed on his mind, filling him with unease and anxiety. With a soft groan, he pushed the blankets aside and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
His hand moved to rub his tired eyes, half-hoping that a bit of magic could wash away his fatigue. Perhaps a genie could grant him a thousand wishes, and life would become what he truly desired. Or maybe it was the pain pills he occasionally took, causing a foggy vision of the world, leading him to see and hear things that weren't there.
The thought crossed his mind that he was beginning to sound like Polly.
Polly.
He felt a pang of guilt for driving her away, something he seemed to do quite often. But this time, his aunt hadn't returned, and he worried that she might never come back after everything that had transpired.
"Mr. Shelby?" He heard a timid knock on the door and sighed. "Mr. Shelby?"
"I'm awake, Mary." His response was curt yet sufficient, and she left without further disturbance. Thomas relished the comforts of his life, the luxury that his wealth afforded him.
The staff, the companionship of women, the drinks—it was a reward for his hard work, but he often felt undeserving of it. He pondered whether his feelings would change if he had been born into wealth or if that sense of undeserving would persist.
This reminded him of a conversation he had earlier in the week when Leonor had convinced him to bring her along to the winery.
"Are you planning to drive there yourself?" Leonor's voice had carried a tone of genuine confusion as she observed him preparing to take the driver's seat. "Really?"
He was on the verge of ignoring her, already starting the car's engine, but his curiosity spoke louder. "Yes, I figured we could use the time to work on your cover, wife. God knows you could use it." He teased, but she remained motionless. "Why do you ask?"
Perhaps you should work on your own cover instead." She crossed her arms, looking away to signal someone nearby. "You married me to gain higher acceptance among my peers." Thomas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in mild annoyance. "Or am I mistaken?"
He remained silent and she took it as a yes. "Very well. I'll play the part you expect me to, but you still have to work for this approval."
Thomas had let out a dry chuckle, while he grabbed the door, the metal absorbing his frustration. "Theirs or yours?"
"Mine doesn't matter." Leonor just shrugged, motioning for the driver to approach. "We don't drive and we don't fucking open doors." She whispered and then nodded, watching the driver open the door, before looking up at her husband. "Play your part, husband. Otherwise, you just make it too easy for them."
He would do his best to play that part, but it would soon be proven to be harder than he expected to.
As he stared at his reflection in the mirror, he struggled to recognize the man looking back at him. The days of flat caps and working-class attire were long gone, replaced by tailored suits, polished shoes, and expensive watches.
On the way downstairs, his gaze inevitably settled on Leonor's bedroom door, which remained closed. For a moment, he felt a sense of relief. Leonor had a penchant for sleeping in and taking daytime naps, often dozing on a comforter in the library or curled on the drawing room couch, a trend that had only intensified in recent days.
The trip to the winery had been just what he expected to be, it did her no good, considering how distant she became when they got home and he figured he would have to bring up the subject at some point, but not just yet, not now at least.
But when he reached the ground floor, his relief turned to surprise. There she was, sitting at the dining table, a plate of fresh fruits and toast before her. She was fully dressed and ready to go, even earlier than he was, wearing a plum dress that complemented her complexion.
"Leonor," he said, his voice betraying a mix of disappointment and curiosity. "You're up early today."
Leonor looked up from her breakfast, her big blue eyes meeting his. She gave him a warm, albeit somewhat tired, smile while toying with a piece of fruit. "Good morning to you as well."
He sat down, eyeing her plate, glad she was at least eating something. Or drinking, there was a teapot next to her, but for the looks and smell of it, it wasn't tea.
"I couldn't sleep. Too...stimulated? Stimulated?" She furrowed her brow for a moment, testing the word as if uncertain of it. "Or excited?"
"Excited," he confirmed with a light chuckle.
"Yes!" She snapped her fingers, smiling. "Excited! Thank you!" Leonor sighed, lifting her cup, and sipping carefully. That's when Thomas realized her hands were shaking.
"Switched to coffee in the morning, eh?"
"Oh, yes, Tony made it for me." Leonor's smile was genuine as she sipped again, shrugging. "It's nicer than mine."
Thomas frowned, wondering who was this Tony she spoke of. The cook?
"Also, I was thinking..." She started, unsure of how to proceed.
"You were? Well, nothing bad can come out of it, eh?" Thomas replied in his typical manner, something Leonor found strange at first, but it was slowly getting used to by now. "What is it?"
"Can I place a bet on your shop?" She asked out of the blue, having studied his agenda for the day but he expected her to ask him anything but that, so of course, his answer would be...
"No, of course not." Thomas pretended not to notice how disappointed she seemed to get. "And I'm not going to the betting shop."
"You're going to London," Leonor argued, hoping he would give in. "It's not that far, is it?"
"No, but I'm going to London and only London." It wasn't that far, not really.
"Can I come?"
"Need I remind you what happened the last time you insisted on coming along, wife?" Thomas dropped the newspaper, figuring there wouldn't be an appropriate time to bring up the subject if he didn't make one.
"Nothing happened." She shifted in her seat, diverting her eyes to her plate, piercing a piece of fruit with her fork before bringing it to her lips. "Nothing happened, Thomas!"
"Is that so?" He questioned, his memory of the day all too well clear.
The estate's vineyards, though not as vast as most vineyards from her family, were nonetheless an impressive sight. The rows of vines stretched across the land, their lush, green leaves basking in the shy sunlight. Grapes of various shades—deep purples, vibrant greens, and muted yellows—dotted the landscape, promising a bountiful harvest. It was a small piece of paradise nestled away from the city's chaos.
"Mr. Shelby!" Lady Mary, Leonor's aunt, greeted him with a broad smile and kissed both his cheeks before her husband arrived. "Niece," she said with a single, swift kiss on Leonor's cheek, and then she linked her arm with Thomas, leading him inside. "How was the ride?
"Quiet. But this place is promising."
"Oh, of course it is." Harold joined them bringing two glasses of wine. "The right person is finally running it."
Leonor took the glass and sipped the wine, taking a deep breath before finishing in one go when no one else was looking, her face contorting slightly at the taste, leaving Thomas curious about the sudden change. Ruining it, she secretly thought, putting her glass down, to which an employee quickly refilled it, mistaken as to why she set it aside. The wrong person running and ruining it.
As they strolled through the estate, Thomas couldn't help but admire the vineyard's potential. He saw past the familiar operation and glimpsed a chance to expand, to create something grand. The very thought stirred his ambitions, and he envisioned the estate flourishing under his guidance.
"To a legacy uncorked," Harold chuckled, raising his glass to Thomas. "Legacy, it's such an odd word to use now, isn't it? I meant Vino de la Rosa, of course."
"Legacy?" Thomas asked, somewhat lost in thought. "Leonor's legacy?"
"My poor niece would never be able to manage this place on her own. She knows nothing about business or its ruthlessness," Harold remarked, observing Leonor from afar. "Robert made her too soft."
"Gone too soon," Thomas murmured, not having anything else to say, as he was well aware of the details of the man's demise. He still wondered about the truth—whether Leonor had been there, whether she had witnessed it all.
"Gone too late, if you ask me," Harold said with a chuckle before clearing his throat when he noticed his wife returning. "Sweetie, I was just telling Mr. Shelby about Robert."
Mary's face took on a stern expression, and her countenance hardened at the mention of her brother's name. "And what about Isabel? That woman is responsible for everything. She's the one who took my brother away from home, and look what happened."
Thomas found himself in an uncomfortable and awkward situation, one that ranked among his most unwelcome experiences.
"At least one thing Leonor got right," Mary said, gazing at her niece, who seemed to be praying, kneeling by a tree. "But let's not dwell on the dead. Come, Mr. Shelby, let's fill a crate with some bottles for you to take home."
He agreed, believing that the gesture might appease Leonor, and he had no intention of leaving empty-handed.
Yet, during the journey back from the winery, Leonor remained silent. Her eyes stayed closed, her head resting against the car seat. She took slow, deep breaths, her eyes reddened and moist at the corners, suggesting tears had fallen. She said not a word to him, and when he presented the crate of wine, she accepted it with gratitude, though there was no hint of a smile on her face as she inspected the bottles.
Later, in the middle of the night, when Arrow House was deadly silent, and Thomas figured everyone to be asleep, he heard a commotion outside. Standing from his seat with a pistol ready, he peaked in his window, lowering the gun in short relief
Leonor had dragged the crate to the driveway with great difficulty, breathing heavily as crashed bottle by bottle, screaming in anger at the top of her lungs. At each shattered bottle, she cursed in her mother tongue, as tears spilled from her eyes and wine splashed across her face.
When she was done destroying a shameful amount of pounds worth of wine, Leonor took a deep breath, screaming one last time as she ran her hands through her disheveled hair.
Thomas had watched all in silence from his office window and figured it was best to leave her be, so he did not interfere that until she bent down and picked up a big piece of glass from the ground and held it with shivering hands for a brief moment as she stared at it.
That was when he decided to stop her before she did anything stupid, but before he had the chance to, Leonor herself changed whatever was on her mind and threw the sharp glass far away, as far as she could, and rushed back inside.
The next morning, Mary brought up the subject, and he reassured her it was all fine, and that he would discuss it with Leonor later. But days had passed, and Thomas couldn't find the right time or didn't bother to, so he figured what better time than now when she wanted something out of him?
"Well?" Thomas remained as impassive as stone, waiting for her response.
"Diana's gala is approaching," Leonor began, a hint of unease in her voice. "I need a few things."
"That's all?"
"Yes, it's our first outing as a married couple, I can't be anything but impressive. As do you." She sighed, biting into the toast, dusting a crumb off her dress. The color seemed to bring out the depth of her big blue eyes even more and it was hard not to notice the way they sparkled in the light, this morning they carried a glint he hadn't seen in them before. "Or is that too much to expect out of you?"
"You don't know what you're talking about, Leonor." Thomas stood from his seat, scoffing in disbelief. "And it fucking shows."
"Please, Thomas." She asked in a low, trembling voice. "I'm sorry, it's just...you have your life out there and I'm..." Leonor didn't look up to meet his eyes, but he could see right through hers as she struggled to try to make her point. "Please."
Thomas kept quiet, then took a deep breath, lowering his head. "Go on then, don't keep me waiting."
She jolted from her seat, with a genuine smile across her face. "I'll have Mary fix you something for the road, you barely ate."
"That's your way of saying thank you?" Thomas asked, his eyes on the ceiling as she walked past him.
Leonor came back in a rushed passe, smiling as she stood on her toes and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.
He almost flinched in surprise, grabbing her wrist before she could run back. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
"Am I?" She wondered, before following his eyesight, looking down and gasping, leaving the room in a rush. "I am!" Thomas watched her run upstairs barefoot, wondering what had prompted this sudden change in her attitude, figuring that the huge amounts of caffeine she had been consuming weren't enough for such a shift.
She didn't smoke or drink, at least not he'd seen, so he figured that she also didn't divert in snow or anything of the sort.
"I'm ready!" Leonor came down, her purse and coat in hand. "Come, we should get going." She clapped her hands, smiling, but this time, it didn't feel as genuine as before.
He nodded, focusing on putting on his coat, hat, and gloves, taking his time to ensure everything was in order. Leonor's eagerness to leave was palpable, and she didn't hide her impatience but still chose to say nothing, fearing he would change his mind.
Her silence lasted all the way there when the driver stopped by an unfamiliar place, but familiar enough that she knew it wasn't a store.
"Where are we?" She asked, stepping out of the vehicle, and looking around the houses.
"I'm no good with dressing ladies," Thomas admitted with a wry smile before lighting a cigarette. Leonor appeared amused by his words, taking everything on the literal side, but her manners prevented her from openly acknowledging the irony. "Figure you could use some help."
"Oh God." The door flung open, almost closing it again. "Tommy, no!"
Thomas kept the door open, as he urged Leonor to get inside, his hand gently pushing the small of her back. "Leonor, here's help."
"I thought her name was Ada," Leonor argued, but he was already climbing down the steps.
"It is, at times." He raised a brow, and leaned in, instructing two men by the door, who seemed to take their job as safety guards very seriously. "Ada, take your sister-in-law shopping, will you?"
"No, Tommy you don't understand, now is not a good-" Before Ada could finish her complaints, Thomas was already inside the car, driving off. "...fucking time."
Ada turned to Leonor, her brows furrowed, her expression a mix of annoyance and pity as if feeling sorry for her current predicament.
"Well, this is the other topic." The youngest Shelby returned to her seat, throwing herself on the couch, clearly indicating the tone and subject of their previous conversation. "That's Tommy's new wife, Lady Leonor of...somewhere in Spain."
Leonor found herself standing by the entryway of the living room, facing a formidable presence she had heard much about.
"I thought he already had a wife."
The room's atmosphere quickly grew frosty as Polly Gray's sharp, brown eyes fixed on her. Polly rose from her chair deliberately, exuding an air of quiet intensity as she moved.
"Yes, but I'm the new one." Leonor didn't falter, even though she had heard about the Shelby family matriarch. "Besides, our marriage serves a different purpose than his past one."
Polly's response was dry and cutting. "Convenience, I presume?"
"Aren't all marriages? Either out of convenience," She asked, circling and sitting on the couch across from Ada. "Or necessity?"
Polly's skepticism remained, but she grudgingly admitted, "Necessity is a language I understand."
"As do I."
"Oh, I find that very hard to believe, Lady Leonor from God knows where." Polly scoffed, letting out a dry laugh afterward. "Lizzie knew what necessity really was. Have you ever thought about that?"
"Never felt the need to. If not me, someone else would take her place. It's how things have been working for men, for centuries now." Leonor frowned, crossing her hands on her lap. "All my life I knew my marriage would be out of convenience, out of whatever necessity my family would be in currently need. Why should I be ashamed of that?"
"There's no shame in that. Isn't it, aunt Polly?" Ada chuckled, filling up a cup and handing it to Leonor.
"And tell me, what is that your family needs now?"
"My family is dead, they don't need anything." She sipped her drink, licking her lips at the bitter taste.
Polly felt a pang of pity for her, she didn't attend the wedding but she knew all the details. But still wasn't enough, and she remained unconvinced.
"You see, around here, we value loyalty above all else. It's a currency more valuable than gold. And if Tommy decided to choose and trust you, very well, that's his problem. But if you betray that trust, your precious title won't save you."
Leonor nodded, looking down at the glass. "I know."
"...and? That's it?" Ada frowned, pouring herself another glass out of whiskey. "Aren't you gonna try to change our minds?"
"Why bother?" Leonor shrugged, looking up at Polly. "You all had made your minds before I walked through that door."
"Oh, sweetheart, save it." Polly chuckled, sitting down next to Ada, who seemed almost drunk, they should been drinking for a while now. "They are the Peaky fucking Blinders. You want to be like them, be like them. There's no use crying and complaining."
Leonor stifled a laugh, coughing and choking on the drink she had been sipping. "But here's the funny thing, I don't want to be them." She looked at her, covering her mouth while she coughed. "They want to be me."
The way that Leonor looked at them made it very clear that she knew her value and how she wasn't being ashamed of it, simply because they favored Thomas previous wife.
Polly glanced at Ada, before standing from her seat again. She knew the girl was right, Ada herself had said it before, but she didn't expect her to be aware, Polly expected a naive empty-headed posh woman, who would look down on them and simply not be trusted.
But seeing how she stood her ground and did not back down, made her see Leonor with different eyes. Not eyes of care and fondness but out of curiosity in a suspicious manner. "Either way, good luck, sweetheart." She tapped Leonor's shoulder before leaving the room and felt a sharp bolt flowing through her body as if she had touched a charged doorknob. "You're going to need it."
Polly didn't know what it meant, but if she did, she would probably leave all suspicion aside and would've prayed for the girl instead.
She was indeed going to need it.