July 17th, 1892 — Foxwood Estate Bath

The Foxwood estate was beautiful, and Natsuko was lucky that her room happened to be on the first floor of the building. Although she was sure the views from the upper rooms were lovely and panoramic, her own had a set of double doors that led out to a small veranda that met the landscaping of the garden. It was high summer - sunrise was 3:30am, but the night had already begun to give way to the morning when Suki found herself restless and fully awake. The house was warm and she had left the doors of the veranda open to allow a breeze into the room, so she slipped from the bed, took a book from her bedside table and a shawl from a chair and made her way to the veranda, where the cool of the morning air outside felt like am elixir.

Stopping at the door, she inhaled deeply, the scent of the night jasmine hung in the air. There was a low stone wall separating the manicured veranda from the gardens beyond and Natsuko stationed herself there, sitting with her back to an edging pillar and her feet tucked up beneath her, wrapped in her shawl, book in hand she took a few minutes to enjoy the serenity of the early hours, with only the spider in it's dew glistening spiders web for company.

She wasn't sure how long she had stayed there, lazily watching the spider spin, harrowed by the occasional fairy who had escaped from the likely now dismantled decorations from the night before and reading from the mediocre novel she had procured in London and pondering all that had gone on that evening before, when from amidst the early morning bird song, another sound stood out. 'Is anyone there?' Suki asked, a note of concern the colouring the edge of her question. She pulled her shawl a little closer around her, still in nightdress as she was, and listened again.

---

  

---

Gin made something stunning

Anthony and Basil had been talking academics for what felt like hours, and Atticus was still too tipsy to even follow where the conversation was going. It didn’t help that his cousin was still bridging the gap between himself and his brother although at least they’d shifted from ignoring each other’s existence to having clipped words through their cousin. It was baby steps in the right direction at least. None of them had gone to sleep despite their guests returning home or retiring in one of the guest suites for the evening; it wasn’t until Atticus turned his attention toward anything else other than the jabbering boys to find that the sun was rising. He stifled a yawn with his hand and stood, bidding the boys a goodnight.

His feet were a bit unsteady beneath him but they had spent the last few hours drinking out in the garden sharing a few bottles of champagne and fire whiskey straight from the source, and Atticus found the memories after dinner were hazy - somehow Alderton had conned his brother into drinking with them, and while he’d quite a few hours back, the pair was still drinking. Basil had the fire whiskey bottle tilted up for the last drops while Anthony was densely wondering aloud if cats could get drunk. (As if he’d ever do anything to harm his precious Paixão - she was just as spoiled as Merlin, if not more!)

Neither Basil nor Anthony seemed to notice when he waved goodnight to them and made his trek toward the house; he was ready to collapse face first into his bed for a few hours of sleep, awakening just in time for breakfast to be served. A fairy buzzed by his head as he neared a veranda, causing him to swat at it “Stop that.” Atticus frowned as he finally managed to graze the fairy, causing it to become tangled into the petals of a nearby plant. It pouted at him, no harm done, and left him alone as stepped forward, hearing a voice he recognized but couldn’t immediately place, call out.

Dragging his feet down the path, he finally saw someone he vaguely recognized as Miss Mountbatton sitting under the veranda. Atticus squinted before she finally came into focus, and then he stood and pulled his waistcoat down to smooth out any wrinkles as he offered her a smile. “Good evening… erm, morning, Miss Mountbatton. I hope you slept well?”

---

@"Natsuko Mountbatton"

---

The following 1 user Likes Atticus Foxwood's post:1 user Likes Atticus Foxwood's post
   Natsuko Foxwood

---

Whomever Natsuko had been expecting, perhaps a gardener or morning delivery boy, she had not been expecting the master of the house, Mister Foxwood.  Natsuko's eyes widened and her mouth formed a soft 'o', as she pulled her shawl tighter around herself, suddenly incredibly aware that she was in her night things. 

Propriety required her to stand and curtsey, and she did, wrapping her shawl tighter around herself. 'Mister Foxwood!' was all she initially managed in surprise. She would have thought the master of the house was well tucked up, not prowling the grounds like a poacher. He looked like he had not slept, those were certainly still the clothing he had gone down to dinner with the night before. 

The night before- when she was still processing what had happened the night before, although the reality of it was crystalizing in her mind and it made her stomach roil. 

'I slept well Mister Foxwood, thank you. she breathed after a second.  Her bare feet standing in the dew wet grass which tickled her ankles as she moved.  She had never been in the company of a man before without the benefit of a chaperone and of course all of her feminine armor.  'you have a beautiful home sir.' she gestured to the place in which they stood.  'I can see why Poppy speaks so fondly of it.' she managed with a small smile, unsure as to the etiquette of speaking to the host under the current circumstances.

---

  

---

Gin made something stunning

Atticus wasn’t sure where to look as soon as he noticed Miss Mountbatton was in her nightdress; looking directly at her seemed impolite, like he was seeing something reserved for her future husband, so he rolled his eyes toward the sky to stare at the pink and red swirling above them as the sun continued to rise. He clasped his hands behind his back, taking only the slightest of peek at her as she spoke.

Well aware how uncomfortable she must be feeling, especially as Atticus was still fully clothed in attire she’d seen him in all night, he cleared his throat and dropped his gaze toward his shoes. They were a bit scuffed, although he couldn’t figure from what. Most of yesterday was hazy, although something important tickled in the back of his mind. “I do apologize if I disturbed you. I didn’t think anyone would be awake this early.” He cleared his throat then.

“Thank you, Miss Mountbatton. It’s one of my favorite places to spend the day.” He smiled, although he doubted she could see it; he took another peek at her before dropping his gaze back to the ground. “Perhaps after breakfast I could accompany you on a stroll? When it’s much more proper to see you.” Atticus laughed quietly, as he shook his head, well aware he should leave her be. She was unchaperoned. He was going to be nursing a hangover later on.

He stripped his jacket off and laid it across his arm. “I’ll leave the decision to you, Miss Mountbatton. I can leave you be, although if you are interested in a conversation, I’ll offer you my jacket to wear while we converse." Because of course, the goal was to not harm her reputation in any way. If she told him to leave he would without question.

---

@"Natsuko Mountbatton"

---

  

---

His discomfort was evident, and it was clear to her that he had been drinking. What else could a gentleman have been doing until the rude hours, on his birthday. The thought tugger her lips into a small smile. There was something endearing about the thought, of the archetype gentleman and family head drinking like a lad just embarked on his grand tour.

She didn't respond in words but crossed the small distance between them to accept the offered coat, an invitation to stay. Her breathing strangely unsteady, as she felt the morning dew soak the first few inches of her night dress.

The coat hung around her shoulders like a cape, comically large off her narrow shoulders, her hair falling loose around her shoulders, a contrast to its usually styled public presentment. 'perhaps mister Foxwood, if there is time' she answered gently, having already decided she would leave as soon as was considered polite in the morning. There was little point in torturing herself further.

'Did you enjoy your birthday in the end Mister Foxwood?' she said changing the subject somewhat to sager territory, it felt to her. 'was it everything you hoped?' she wasn't sure what answer she was hoping for, and she felt 'off her game' resorting to benalities because she didn't trust her mouth to take the lead, nor indeed her muscles to keep her standing so strange was the feeling permeating all of her limbs, a coild tightness that needed to move, to take action to say or express itself but full of the sick dread of the disaster it would cause.

But then he probably wouldn't remember this when he awoke, and Natsuko wasn't sure if she liked or disliked that fact, but she needed to say her goodbye.  And this certainly felt like goodbye to her, an end to the pretty fantasy she had been in denial about until that very morning.

The accumulation of their interactions had assured her of two things.  That Mister Atticus Foxwood, first born son of the Foxwood line, was destined to marry a pureblooded English rose like one of the 3 Miss Malfoys, and Natsuko Mountbatton feared she was very much in love with him. 

---

  

---

Gin made something stunning

There was something oddly… satisfying about seeing Miss Mountbatton in his jacket. She was much smaller than he was and it fell off her shoulder, and while his heart pattered in his chest at the sight, he couldn’t help but frown at her words. They sounded final, like she had every intention of ensuring there wasn’t time; although, as he considered that she’d spent the day and night in his home, it was entirely possible she had things to attend to. He didn’t want her to leave, but he was in no way allowed to stop her.

The change of subject was startling, and he couldn’t help but nod, finding words that any words he reached for were scattered in his mind. Atticus cleared his throat. “It was a wonderful day, Miss Mountbatton. Filled with family and friends, although there are some things I would change -” Like having you seated at the other end of the table at dinner, “I don’t think I am able to complain overall.” He offered her a small smile as he finally stepped forward toward her. He wasn’t sure why he did it, but Atticus just wanted to be near her; still, his eyes took a quick glance around to ensure no one was around. The last thing he wanted to do was harm her reputation.

“And you, Miss Mountbatton? I hope my brother was able to keep you remotely entertained at dinner.” Because he’d spent a lot of time glancing at her, watching her smile at his dear brother. There wasn’t envy there - he knew Basil wouldn’t be interested in Miss Mountbatton because he never seemed interested in anyone - but there curiosity. He wondered too, what Mama thought of her.

Atticus took a few more steps forward.

---

@"Natsuko Mountbatton"

---

The following 1 user Likes Atticus Foxwood's post:1 user Likes Atticus Foxwood's post
   Natsuko Foxwood

---

The proximity was almost too much, too close, and her chest felt fit to burst, too tight with either grief or affection she couldn't tell - perhaps both. Perhaps that is why it felt so full. She took a breath that was as shuddering as it was deep. Dropping her gaze from his face to his chest, to his hands, the ones that had held her was they had danced, and she swallowed again thickly. This was torture.

'I'm glad sir' she managed thickly, her mouth dry and her hands shaking, but a forced smile on her face. 'your family are most welcoming company,' They were safe words, but felt unworthy of this place, this moment. 'I am glad you are....happy.' Saying it nearly broke her heart. If this was the evening he set his sights on his future wife, then so be it, she would try to be happy for him. The morning would truly come, and the world would go back to how it had been, but right now, in the garden, lit by dawn light, it felt like a safe place to express  all of the things she could certainly not say in the rude light of day. 

She dropped her gaze from his, her eyes hooded, and sorrow pulling at the corners of her mouth. She could barely look at him. With tears threatening to cloud her vision, there were standing close by one another, and without thinking of the consequences she laced her fingers with his. She held his clasped his hands in hers and pressed them her lips, eyes closing in something like a benediction.  'I am no Malfoy, no Scrimgeour, I have no powerful family to offer you, no connections, and no blood, but I think even if we had never met I would miss you'.  She whispered taking a shuddering breath, that sounded as though it pained her to draw it, her heart constricting in her chest and her breathing felt shallow and pained.

---

  

---

Gin made something stunning

He forced a smile as she spoke, not quite sure what she was getting out. They still felt like goodbye, and he racked his brain to wonder what in the world he’d done to upset her. Had it been last night? It was still hazy and no matter how much he wished he could recall every word he said he couldn’t. It was aggravating. Miss Mountbatton was, too. Atticus stood in front of her, almost toe to toe, and she looked beautiful in the soft glow of the morning light.

Then their fingers were laced and he watched her with interest; there was something melancholy about her actions, the way her gaze kept dropping from his. But it was her words that caused his heart to ache. Somewhere along the way, he’d grown fond of Miss Mountbatton; he looked forward to seeing her at events. Her smile lit up the room and her laugh was intoxicating. Atticus wanted to have all of it - and more - for the rest of his life.

He almost scoffed at her; The Foxwoods were a wealthy family, there was no denying that; their bloodline was pure but the family members he was often seen with weren't. He chuckled quietly, keeping his voice low as to not disturb the world around them. The grass still glistened with dew and the sun still rose somewhere behind him. “You think I care about that? I don’t need power or money or connections, Natsuko. I need you. Just you. I would spend the rest of my life looking for you.” Stepping forward, Atticus gently cupped his hands against her cheeks and brushed his lips against hers. Rules, society, expectations be damned. He couldn’t let her slip through his fingers; her goodbye was not something Atticus was willing to accept.

---

@"Natsuko Mountbatton"

---

The following 2 users Like Atticus Foxwood's post:2 users Like Atticus Foxwood's post
   Ida Chang, Natsuko Foxwood

---

She almost winced, such a deceleration under other circumstances would have left her singing, but instead she closed her eyes against the tears that threatened her. His words were painful,, exactly what she wanted to hear but she knew it was the fire whiskey speaking. That when he thought on his duty he would regret the words. Especially since he had likely only just made his attachment to his true future wife.

She wouldn’t hold him to them. His hand touched her cheek, turning her face to his, his warm lips pressed to hers. His jacket slid from her shoulders, as her hands fisted in his shirt. Her dark hair tumbling down her back. As their kiss broke her forehead pressed to his chest ’I love you’ she breathed, in barely more than a whisper, the words were not meant really for him, but she needed to say it aloud, even just once.

Her breath was unsteady and tremulous, and she trailed kisses up his jaw and captured his lips again. She would need to pack a lifetime into this kiss.

---

The following 1 user Likes Natsuko Foxwood's post:1 user Likes Natsuko Foxwood's post
   Ida Chang

---

Gin made something stunning

Miss Mountbattom was a surprising woman, and Atticus found he didn’t mind that. Three little words made his heart leap into his throat, and he wasn’t even sure they were allowed for him. Before he could articulate the words she was kissing him again; his arms wrapped around her waist to draw her closer, fully aware he was risking her reputation if anyone were to stumble upon them and he kissed her like his life depended on it. She was the air he breathed. Atticus memorized her lips, the way she felt against him, the way she tasted. Perfection.

Finally, Atticus pulled back, keeping his hands securely around her as he rested his chin atop her head. Briefly, he considered asking her to marry him, to run off and elope with him; but that would cause nothing but chaos and scandal to either of their families. Plus, he wasn’t in his right mind. What if she said no? He sighed and closed his eyes before dropping a tender kiss to her forehead. “Miss Mountbatton…” Atticus breathed out, finding the words painful. “We need to go about this properly.” He knew if Basil or Anthony were to stumble along they wouldn’t question it. But anyone else?

He wanted to court her. To show her off. With a shaky breath, he stepped away from her. “I could ruin you, if we continue.”

---

@"Natsuko Mountbatton"

---

The following 1 user Likes Atticus Foxwood's post:1 user Likes Atticus Foxwood's post
   Natsuko Foxwood

---

She felt she fit in his arms, his height perfect to allow her to rest again his, the thrum of his heart in his chest, as her breath returned to her amd her sense with it. She didn't pull away from him immediately, there would be time enough for that. She allowed herself to be held, eyes closed, imagining what it might be like to fall asleep in his arms, listening to the pattering beat of his heart in time with her own. She breathed him in, that floral, resinous, citrus smell of bergamot and vetiver that filled her head and made a place for itself in a small part of her brain. The affectionate and easy kiss to her forehead a tantalising reminder of how it might have been between them had fate been kinder.

This was torturous - and she was doing nothing but making herself miserable by remaining. He seemed to have a similar view. “We need to go about this properly.” - and there it was - the reminder of the duty that hung over them both. She extracted herself from his gasp, her face returning to the unreadable coolness of 'The Empress' - her social mask, and the distance it put between her feelings and the world donned like amour against her heartbreak; a feeling so palpable that it was a miracle he could not hear it crack. 'You are right of course Mister Foxwood' she gave a bowing nod. She leaned down to pick up the jacket that had fallen from her shoulders in the tumult, and pressed it back into his hands.

'It wouldn't do for a moments folly to lead to eithers ruin, when one has a duty to do.' Natsuko added, pulling her shawl around her shoulders. She hoped she looked more composed than she felt, her heart raced and her head felt light, as though she was floating away and watching herself speak to him. Her breaths were shaky and shallow and she did her best to control the rise and fall of her chest. Having avoided looking at him, she could not help but meet his gaze, politness and manners over riding her prides desire for self preservation. 'I'm sorry again sir' she ground out a little thickly, and turned from him, drawing a deep breath, before hurrying back into her room, her bare wet feet leaving foot prints on the cold dry stone of the veranda, as the door clicked closed.

She didn't return to the wall for her book. It hadn't been especially good anyway.

---

  

---

Gin made something stunning

Confusion etched across his face as she stepped back from him and pressed his jacket into his hands; he took it with little fanfare, finding whatever words he wanted to say jumbled in his mind. Atticus racked his brain for the past few minutes, and he could only assume she’d had rejects about his actions. He almost winced. Almost.

It wasn’t tom foolery, damn it! She had said she’d loved him (or Atticus assumed that he’d heard it), and while he wasn’t sure if he was willing to return the words just yet, he knew he cared deeply for Miss Mountbatton. (Deeply enough that if she wasn’t going to be by his side forever, he wasn’t sure how much happiness he’d achieve.) He did love her. His pressed against his rib cage and he merely frowned as she avoided looking at him and then apologized, although for what, he couldn’t place - Atticus wasn’t sorry for any of the actions that had taken place! He’d make the same choices all over again if given the chance. Maybe less talking, but that was beside the point.

His brain finally caught up with the moment just as she closed the door. “Natsuko, wait!” But it seemed like he was too late. Atticus’ eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Had he just dreamed the entire interaction?

---

@"Natsuko Mountbatton"

---

The following 1 user Likes Atticus Foxwood's post:1 user Likes Atticus Foxwood's post
   Natsuko Foxwood

---