Night had fallen, and to Cordelia's surprise, the ever-busy streets of London hadn't calmed one bit. From behind the lush velvet curtained windows of Lord Elderwood's townhouse, horns of streetcars blared, passerby's shouted through the streets, and vendors pleaded with pedestrians to have an interest in their wares. Cordelia sighed and took a sip of her wine, looking out onto those streets and wondering what her mother was doing at this hour.
She had told Charles that she needed to retire early, and thankfully he understood. He and Lord Elderwood were in the parlor, smoking and drinking. Discussing, Cordelia imagined, the things that all such men did; horses, politics, et cetera. She took another sip of her wine and rested her head back on her chair, willing the thoughts circling around her head to quiet down so that she may, for the first time today, have some peace.
"So am I going to have to make you tell me what's going on with the woman you've brought to my home or will I have to surmise it myself?" Elderwood asked, topping off his friend's drink and meeting him with a mischievous grin.
"I'll have to have a few drinks in me first before your subtlety-or lack, thereof-forces me to forget to hold my tongue," Charles said. He clapped his friend on the back while chuckling to himself. Elderwood wouldn't let him off so easily, however.
"Charles, we go back a long time, and never have I seen you like this with anyone before. What's gotten into you? Have you finally realized that women are far more fascinating than the beloved books that you hold so dear?" Charles rolled his eyes. He's known Franklin Elderwood since the two were in school together, when Elderwood would bribe Charles to do his homework for him in exchange for books snuck in from the previous Lord Elderwood's exquisite library.
"Cordelia is a friend, Franklin, that is all." With this, a frown formed on Elderwood's face, and he shook his head, dislodging several curly locks that had been tucked behind his ears. He was giving Charles one of those famous looks of his, the face he used to make when he had to convince Charles to do his homework for the millionth time. "Fine, I'll tell you. But the things I say are never to leave this room." Elderwood nodded adamantly, but Charles knew it was all a charade-he was a terrible gossip.
Cordelia snapped the book she had been flipping through shut, and was on her way upstairs for bed when she realized she'd left her handkerchief in the parlor before she had retired and left the men to their devices. She considered going back up and fetching it in the morning, but she had a good feeling she wasn't entirely through with crying for the day, though she imagined that if she really tried at it, she could manage just getting out a light sniffle before the day is done. She didn't want to interrupt the men, and she was just about to lightly knock on the door when she heard Charles begin to speak.
"When I first met her, I tried so badly to ignore what I'd felt. My family was visiting hers in hopes that she and Malcolm would hit it off." He had stood up now, unable to express his feelings to Elderwood from his earlier seated position.
"So what changed?" Elderwood was completely engrossed and fascinated at watching his friend so love-sick.
"I heard her speak. Her words, Elderwood, the passion that she feels-the conviction! A woman like that would never be happy by my foolish brother's side," he was almost frantic now, his words spilling over and over each other so much that he had started to ramble. "She is so strong, and her life hasn't been an easy one. She's so beautiful, but beautiful doesn't even do her justice. Whenever she speaks I find myself completely enamored and anticipatory for the next thing she will say, the next thing she will do!"
"Okay okay," Elderwood interjected, worried that his friend would have an aneurism if he continued in this manner. "I believe I get the point." Charles was leaning against the wall of the parlor now, his hand massaging his temples. There was a moment of awkward silence and then he propped his head against the wall, looking towards his friend.
"Oh goodness, I've really fallen for her, haven't I?" He said, a look of worry on his face, while Elderwood's held a look of pure amusement.
"I'm afraid so, old chap. I know you were always the brainy one at school but this seems like a textbook case of l-o-v-e to me," he said, raising his glass in Charles' direction. "To you, Charles, and the wedding invitation I plan on receiving from you sometime in the near future."
"Thank you, but if only it were that simple," he said. "I highly doubt that my family would support any match that was originally intended for Malcolm, and her father is very likely to reject any proposal that doesn't match or exceed my idiot brother's disgustingly generous inheritance. More than all of this, however, is that she may-and most likely does-not feel the same way about me." He sat himself down back in his armchair, his head in his hands.
The men continued to talk, but Cordelia wasn't listening anymore. Charles is in love with me? She suspected that he may have feelings for her, but for him to be in love with her was beyond even her wildest imagination. She abandoned her rescue mission of the handkerchief, and began ascending the stairs to her bedroom, and dressing for bed, all the while unable to shake the declarations she'd just heard downstairs.
She heard the men finish up for the evening, and heard the door opening in Charles' room beside her. It was well past midnight now, and she knew that she should be in bed, but Charles' words kept playing over and over again in her head. He loves me, she thought, and he has no idea how I feel! Springing from her bed, she began to pace. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, too much has happened for her mind to relax enough for sleep. She could hear Charles moving around next door, and a crazy, irrational thought popped in her head.
Before she knew it, she was opening her door, and knocking on Charles'. "Come in," a sleepy voiced sounded from within. It was now or never, she thought, and without overthinking anything, she took a step inside. "Cordelia," Charles stuttered, "what are you doing here?" He was in his pajamas just like she was in hers.
"I couldn't sleep," she said, coming closer to where he was laying on the bed.
"Well I'm sure that's natural, what happened with your mother today was overwhelming enough for a lifetime." She could tell he was trying his hardest to avert his eyes from her nightgown, and she tried to suppress a nervous smile.
She shook her head at his words before she continued. "It's not that I can't sleep because of what happened with my mother," she said, "but because of your own words." At that, Charles' face snapped out of its goofy, groggy look and suddenly became very serious.
"Cordelia I'm not sure what you heard-"
"I heard more than I was supposed to, I'm sure," she said, moving even closer. Charles straightened up in bed, closing the book on his lap and taking her in.
"Oh, well...I see then. If you've come to assure me that we are merely friends, then say no more, your point is taken," he said, a pained look flashing over his face that made Cordelia want to reach out for his hands. Instead, she shook her head again.
"You've got me wrong there again, Charles. That's not what I came here to say."
"It's not? Then please, by all means, enlighten me," he quipped, now confused.
"At first, I didn't know how to take in everything that I'd heard downstairs," she sighed before she continued, "I couldn't believe it, I suppose."
Charles straightened up when he heard this, a quizzical look on his face. "How could you not believe it? Being lucky enough to be around you is more intoxicating than any drink. You shine in every room that you walk into." Cordelia's smile had grown so large she was certain that she looked like a fool but she couldn't care less. While she's never been vain in her life, she didn't want him to stop. It was only when she remembered the reason that she came in here that she lifted her hand up, Charles pausing in the middle of his speech.
"As lovely as that is, I have to stop you there," she said, watching his face drop nervously. "I came in here on a mission of my own, and a speech of my own as well." She grabbed his hands, and sat beside him on the bed, her hands never leaving his. "Charles, you have been somewhat of a savior to me, and a most cherished friend. It is because of that friendship that I hold so dearly that-" Charles held up a hand to her, his look becoming cold.
"Allow me to stop you right there, I've been down this road before, Cordelia." His mouth was drawn into a small thin line, while Cordelia's was in the shape of a puzzled "o."
"But Charles, you didn't even let me finish what I was saying!" She exclaimed, nonplussed. When she was in the other room imagining how this conversation would go, being interrupted by Charles was definitely not what she had pictured.
"I unfortunately don't need to. I know exactly where you were headed, and while I cherish our friendship dearly as well, I'm afraid I was interested in being quite more than your friend. You can spare me the rest of your speech," he said, shaking his head and looking away from her at the floor. "I know all too well how it ends." Cordelia's heart almost broke from seeing how sad Charles' face was, and she had almost forgotten what she was about to say before he'd interrupted her.
"Charles, that's not where I was going," she said, causing Charles' head to lift back up and his brown eyes to look back into hers. "I was going to say that it is because of that friendship that I cherish that I was originally hesitant to acknowledge the way that I feel about you. I didn't want to ruin one of the best parts of my life if you didn't feel the same way." She smiled then, and Charles smiled as well.
"You're serious, then?" He asked, and Cordelia nodded, which caused Charles' grin to intensify. "You surely have no idea how pleased you've made me in a matter of just a few sentences. Thank you, thank you," he couldn't shake the grin off of his face, and neither could Cordelia.
"Charles, it is you I should be thanking. Every day I am more and more grateful for you being a part of my life." She heard the clock downstairs strike two, and she let out a yawn. "I should be going," she said, rising from the bed. She was about to leave the room entirely when a sudden feeling of courage ran through her and she turned back around to where Charles was on the bed and planted her lips against his.
His lips were surprisingly soft, and together they moved their mouths in perfect unison before Cordelia pulled away, kissed him on his forehead, and snuck out of the room. Charles sat back on the bed and shook his head in wonder at the day, how it started compared to how it had ended.
A/N: What do you guys think? Do we like Charles and Cordelia together? What do you want to happen next? I'm grateful for you readers every single day, and just wanted you to know how thankful I am for you and your continued patience with me. This summer is a busy one, and you're heroes for bearing with me!