23 February 1894 — Farley Residence, Tutshill
Two Weeks Before the Wedding
Two Weeks Before the Wedding
Approaching the house in Tutshill that afternoon felt like he was walking into the Great Hall on NEWT examination day, trying to hold all of the things he'd studied in his head long enough to survive the test. Of course, the real test had been the interactions with everyone else prior to this moment, everyone who had made small talk or offered congratulations or tried to pry for more gossip between the day it had been announced in the paper and now. They were the ones he was trying to fool; it wasn't as though he was going to trick her into thinking the pair of them were in love. But he was nervous all the same, because he hadn't actually talked to her even once since the night they'd been caught together in the cloakroom, and in two weeks she was supposed to be Mrs. Fortitude Greengrass.
(He needed to tell her he preferred to be called Ford. He made a mental note. It would be quite mortifying if they married and she referred to him as Fortitude in front of company. There were lots of things he should tell her, probably, but there wasn't a limitless amount of time, so it was important to prioritize. Ford, not Fortitude made the short list).
He hadn't ever been to the Farley home before, but he thought that would probably have been suspicious to admit, so he had looked up the address in a directory rather than asking someone to point him in the right direction. He'd wandered through Tutshill peering at street signs and feeling rather conspicuous with the small bouquet of flowers in his hands, and had eventually arrived at a home he was fairly (but not entirely) certain was the correct one. He glanced at the windows as he approached, hoping for a glimpse of someone he might have recognized to confirm the address, but he didn't see anyone... and he might not have recognized them, anyway. He'd been talking with Mr. Farley regularly since the arrangement had been made, giving him regular updates on the status of the house expansion and showing as much of an avid interest in the wedding preparations as he could muster, but that had all happened through letter; he hadn't actually had an in-person conversation with him except for that afternoon he'd come to the parlor and laid out his expectations. Ford was reasonably sure he would have recognized Miss Jemima, but even there he couldn't be positive — he'd misplaced her name for most of their interaction on Valentine's day, after all.
Merlin. In two weeks he was going to be married to her, and he had been suggesting to everyone who asked for the past week that he was entirely enamored with her despite the inauspicious circumstances, and yet he was only reasonably sure that he would recognize her in a window.
He knocked on the door.
(He needed to tell her he preferred to be called Ford. He made a mental note. It would be quite mortifying if they married and she referred to him as Fortitude in front of company. There were lots of things he should tell her, probably, but there wasn't a limitless amount of time, so it was important to prioritize. Ford, not Fortitude made the short list).
He hadn't ever been to the Farley home before, but he thought that would probably have been suspicious to admit, so he had looked up the address in a directory rather than asking someone to point him in the right direction. He'd wandered through Tutshill peering at street signs and feeling rather conspicuous with the small bouquet of flowers in his hands, and had eventually arrived at a home he was fairly (but not entirely) certain was the correct one. He glanced at the windows as he approached, hoping for a glimpse of someone he might have recognized to confirm the address, but he didn't see anyone... and he might not have recognized them, anyway. He'd been talking with Mr. Farley regularly since the arrangement had been made, giving him regular updates on the status of the house expansion and showing as much of an avid interest in the wedding preparations as he could muster, but that had all happened through letter; he hadn't actually had an in-person conversation with him except for that afternoon he'd come to the parlor and laid out his expectations. Ford was reasonably sure he would have recognized Miss Jemima, but even there he couldn't be positive — he'd misplaced her name for most of their interaction on Valentine's day, after all.
Merlin. In two weeks he was going to be married to her, and he had been suggesting to everyone who asked for the past week that he was entirely enamored with her despite the inauspicious circumstances, and yet he was only reasonably sure that he would recognize her in a window.
He knocked on the door.
Set by Lady!