Anthony wasn’t sure what… really, had compelled him to purchase the little trinket now burning a hole in his waistcoat pocket. He knew better than to be going out of his way for a woman who was interested in another man, or otherwise unavailable to him. It was the story of his life actually, though at Hogwarts it had always been Atticus he’d trailed after not Basil. It would seem he was destined to pine after all the Foxwood victories in perpetuity. He never meant to fall in love with the same women as his cousin. It just so happened they generally had similar tastes and well… where most women had seen him as the jokester, the goofball friend they all liked to share a smile with… it was Atticus who was the serious, broody relationship type. Never in a million years had he expected to feel this way about someone Basil was enamored with. They were so different after all, their tastes so varied.

But Mr. Torie? She was perfect. In every way. It was no wonder she’d charmed all three of them to some degree. Atticus was just an idiot for bowing out, but Basil… well. Anthony supposed at the end of the day even the quiet, academic type would find the charms of one so sweet and lovely as that enticing. And, in all fairness, Basil had known Ms. Torie much longer than he anyway. This was all just… infatuation. It would soon pass, if he applied himself to it.

The brunette took a sip of his red wine and pulled his gaze from the tiny, toddling ginger that had been announced not too long ago. It was certainly a confusing moment, one that had ignited not only his Aunt Viola into action - sweeping the new couple into the room - but also Atticus - a glower falling to his face - and Basil - who’d turned tail almost immediately to chase after the other gentleman that had arrived. Lissingwood? Leeryton? Whatever his name was. The three Foxwoods each had reacted wholly differently leading Anthony to believe there must be something there the rest of them were not privy to, but he also made a realization in that moment.

This was the instance he’d been waiting for.

Blue gaze flickering up to Ms. Torie just across the way, Anthony made a split second decision. He set aside his glass of wine and made his way unobtrusively over to the pretty redhead. Then, touching her arm gently, wordlessly, he inclined his head as if to ask her to follow him. His heart was thundering in his chest. Anthony knew full well she had no rhyme or reason to do as she was bid; they had only the most surface level of friendly rapports, but he hoped she might anyway. Without waiting for her reaction so as to not attract attention, the brunette made his way from the room into an adjacent parlor.

Once there, he ducked around the door frame to stand just in front of a little library and wait. He would give the lady a moment or two before he made some excuse to wander off to the kitchens in search of more wine.

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Anthony could feel his own heartbeat in his chest as the seconds passed by. Perhaps he’d been too forward. Was this her way of gently telling him to bugger off? It wouldn’t be out of the question; he really ought to know better than to try and pursue something with a lady that was otherwise inclined. At least apparently. But then… her attentions as of late had been so… personal. After their exchange at the hunt, Anthony was almost sure things seemed to trending at least towards friendship. They’d exchanged a letter or two, maybe a passing joke. It wasn’t so wholly impossible for him to think… The brunette sighed a little bit, running an exasperated hand through his curls. They stuck up after that and he cursed mildly, making to fix them.

It was then that Ms. Torie appeared, catching him unawares, and Anthony dropped his hand quickly, feeling his cheeks warm. Caught preening, red-handed. Anthony offered the lady a sheepish smile, even as his heart skipped a beat. She’d come.

“Ms. Torie,” the gentleman returned her greeting. “Ah— thank you for stepping aside a moment. I just, well, I wanted to give you something without… the whole of my family breathing down our backs.” The confession tinged the man’s cheeks red again. Why was he such a bumbling idiot all the time? The man brushed this thought aside and searched his waistcoat for a small parcel. Then, holding it out to her gingerly, he blushed again.

“It’s er— nothing really, I just… saw it and was reminded of you,” he tried. A falsehood, technically. He had seen the little trinket and been reminded of her, but the charm he’d placed on it was entirely of his own forethought and sentiment. The trinket, a little porcelain box from Limoges, was wrapped in a red ribbon. “If you shake it, it sends a signal to its companion. I… well, I thought you could use it if you ever find yourself in need of assistance again.” Here the gentleman became sheepish and a hand came up to scratch the back of his head. Now that he was saying it aloud, he sincerely hoped the lady wouldn’t be offended, or assume he thought her in need of such a thing.

“Oh!” Anthony exclaimed then. “And this, too,” he added, digging in his waistcoat pocket again for the companion piece. “This is the receiver. To give to whomever you trust.” He gently shook the first box, the more elaborately decorated one, and as he did so the second jingled as if a little bell were dancing around inside.

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Anthony waited until the sound of her voice put him out of his misery. She looked delighted at the thought, and he felt a small wave of relief fall over him. Splendid, he hadn’t gone a step too far and offended her. In fact, she seemed so utterly pleased she dared to use his given name. This introduced a new level of intimacy that he found he didn’t mind in the least. Grinning happily in return (like a praised Labrador), the gentleman found he could consider this a successful Christmas Eve now. Her laugh, just an added bonus.

He was surprised however as she moved to extricate something of her own from the pockets of her dress. Watching curiously as the little parcel was handed to him, Anthony felt his own heart skip a beat. She’d thought of him, too. He carefully handed off his little boxes in exchange for the parcel and made to unwrap it delicately. He was touched to find a token inside embroidered just for him. The ‘A’ very much in his style, too. “It’s… perfect, wow,” Anthony beamed a little bit. “You know me well, already. Thank you, Ms. Victoire, I appreciate the gesture greatly.”

He crumpled the paper into his palm then and made to tuck the little kerchief into his breast pocket so that the ‘A’ was poking out. Then, with a teasing little grin he held his hands out as if to say ‘just like this?’ He knew better than to leave it displayed, obviously, but if it made her laugh and got her to gently tuck it the rest of the way in, he would be satisfied.

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Thrilled that his little joke had paid off, Anthony preened as Ms. Torie tucked the kerchief in properly. He wanted so badly to grasp her hand then, the one pressing against his pocket, just to stop her from feeling the hammering of his heart under the many layers. What would she think if she knew how desperately he wanted to hold her just then? He made a valiant effort to smile gently back, giving her a sweet nod in exchange for her help.

“Torie then,” the gentleman responded with a soft hum. He liked the sound of it on his tongue; soft and delicate, but also infinitely elegant. He quite liked the name Victoire, but Torie just… suited her. As the lady pulled out one part of her gift again, holding the receiving trinket box out in her palms, Anthony couldn’t help but glance quickly at it. He felt his face warm, even as a honeyed grin spread over his features. “I suppose you’ll just have to owl me,” he replied quietly, teasingly. “And wait, torturously for a reply.”

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Anthony felt a small laugh bubble up at the look that swept across the lady’s face. She was clever though, not one to be made a wallflower, and instantly Anthony felt the regret of his small joke. She turned away from him as if to make off and he reached out as if to stop her, wrapping her in his arms. A laughed “No, no!” escaped his vocals before he could stop himself or realize she hadn’t in fact moved. That neither of them could move.

The frown that creased his brow at the realization was quickly dispelled as Anthony followed the lady’s gaze upwards. Oh, bollocks. This had just become a lot more complicated. His heart rate increased again as he glanced at her, blue gaze meeting blue. They were infinitely closer now as he’d perhaps stupidly tried to prevent her walking away by drawing her closer. He hadn’t expected the mistletoe however; he’d simply assumed she’d tug out of his grasp with a coy little smile. Now, he found himself with an armful of Ms. Torie and a blush that she could definitely detect from such close proximity.

Albeit all his reservations, Anthony felt a smile flicker across his face.

“We can’t have that,” the brunette mumbled softly, sweetly, as he considered his next action. His gaze dropped to her mouth then, instinct and longing taking over any rational thought. He eased closer, giving the lady a moment to hedge away if she was going to find him terribly off-putting. He hoped not, especially as everything inside of him screamed to simply close to distance between them. A beat passed and the lady made no such movement so Anthony decided to take the plunge. Pressing his lips against hers in a gentle little peck, the brunette brought one hand to the small of her back. He could deal with the repercussions later.

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Anthony wasn’t sure what had possessed him to kiss Ms. Torie in that moment, under that mistletoe, but he didn’t regret his decision for one second. She was so soft under his touch, so fragile, that he was almost worried about breaking her. He ached for more, to swipe his tongue over her bottom lip and show her an entirely new world, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. Even her little press forward was maddening enough, and when she pulled away breathless and flushed, something inside of Anthony cracked.

He blinked at the lady as she said his name, so sweet and so lost. He wanted desperately to hear what came next, but nothing did. Should he apologize? Should he do it again? The brunette wasn’t sure. He cleared his throat then, breaking the spell a little bit as a soft blush heated his cheeks. He did know one thing he unequivocally had to do, and that was clear up this business with Basil. He could not leave this spot, rooted as he was in this moment, without knowing the truth. Without knowing… if this had any future or possibility at all.

He felt guilt at having kissed the lady, perhaps because of the Basil situation, or perhaps because it was simply improper to get fresh with a woman one had no intention of marrying but… that was the catch, wasn’t it? Anthony could have every intention of marrying Ms. Torie… if she let him. Gaze dropping to her hand that was still pressed against his chest, Anthony took it in one of his own, the other still lingering in the small of her back. “I’m sorry,” he couldn’t help but whisper. “I know that… wasn’t very appropriate, but…” I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time… “when under the mistletoe?” He offered her a sheepish little smile, not nearly as contrite as he ought to have been.

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Her breathless little whisper sent a flurry of skittering discs through Anthony’s stomach, each bouncing around and giving him the sensation of repeated butterflies. He heard her words as if through a fog, disbelief keeping the brunette trapped inside his own head. Could she mean that? Was she as pleased by this development as he? Anthony had to be sure. Before anything else, he had to know…

“Torie…” the sound of her name was a little bit forced, tortured maybe, as Anthony tried to find the words to ask her what he so desperately wanted to know. He was breathless and embarrassed but determined. “This business with Basil…” He swallowed a lump in his throat, trying his damndest not to look away. “Should I be setting my sights elsewhere?” Finally, the truth. A whispered, heart-wrenching question. “I… I find you hard to put from my mind but… if there is something between you and my cousin, even if informally stated, I should hate to get in the middle of it.”

Insecurity and anxiety pooled in the brunette’s gut. There. At least he’d asked. Maybe she would see through the query, maybe she would see how desperately he hoped she might answer in the affirmative that… this might have a future. That they could be something more than just passing ships. All he could do now was hold his breath as the seconds tickled past.

I think we could live forever / In each other's [arms] 'cause I / Always see my youth in you—

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The pause in which Ms. Torie took to process his question was the longest of Anthony’s life. He wasn’t sure there was anything that could have held him to point more than her little frown in the seconds that followed, all his hopes dashed with that one briefest of expressions.

Or, perhaps not.

Her explanation that followed then caught Anthony entirely off-tilt. It had been… a ruse. A ruse to keep society off their backs. They were just… friends? In one long, exhausted breath, Anthony released all the tension he’d been holding inside and it felt tremendous. Also, it made him want to laugh in delirious relief because, well, it made sense. More sense perhaps even than what he’d imagined all this time.

As Ms. Torie continued on to brazenly declare her own ambitions, something in Anthony’s heart twinged. This could possibly have been the very moment he swelled up like a balloon and popped, he was so pleased. He blinked slowly, taking in her words and the small gesture of her entwining their fingers. “I…” Anthony wasn’t sure exactly how to respond. He was elated at this new development. And, if they did one day manage to get to that stage, he would happily be the one to bring her into the fold.

“I cannot even begin to tell you how relieved I am to hear this,” the brunette finally chuckled, despite himself. The weight felt like a ten-ton brick off his back. Guilt, one would learn, was a heavy burden to bear. “And I would very much like to be the man to win your affections in this family, all my cousins be damned,” he added, a mischievous little tick coming to his expression as he grinned at her. Would it have been too much to kiss her again, he wondered.

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