Charles nodded, clasping his hands with slightly narrowed eyes, “I’m sure it hasn’t,” Seeing the letter had irritated him slightly though he wasn’t entirely sure why. He wasn’t angry at Emmeline – not at all – she was a victim in this Handsome Whitledge’s games. He was, instead, completely enraged by the few words he was able to read. They read to the Hit Wizard as condescending, accusing, and guilt-inducing. It was manipulative and Miss Woodcroft did not deserve that. Nobody did. Not when it came to matters of the heart, at least.

“How has he made you feel, Emmy?” Charles asked, not bothering to avert his gaze or conceal the slight venom dripping from his teeth. He shouldn’t take his frustration out on her. He shouldn’t. But, alas, he could feel it bubbling inside of him.

This Handsome Whitledge had gotten this girl drunk and used her to his advantage and had the absolute audacity to guilt trip her but from what he’d been able to see, perhaps he was also blaming her for the night.

And that did not sit well with Charles Caulfield one bit.

---

  

Emmeline hadn't really anticipated the conversation to continue. She was ready to move on and forget about all of it. Had even shrugged in response to him. But then he referred to her as Emmy, something he'd not done before. Her gaze darted to the trash bin near the sink and she realized that the letter she'd gotten from Handsome must have still been there on the top. Well..

"Seems as if you already have you assumptions," she responded, an iciness of her own in her voice. Two could play the game, whatever it was.

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#LovelyLadySet

“I don’t make assumptions, Emmeline,” He said, his gaze still looking directly at her eyes. He wasn’t going to falter. And he certainly didn’t want to get angry at her. He could go home, drink himself to sleep, and forget about it. But he couldn’t find himself letting go. He’d seen Miss Woodcroft at her most vulnerable and had no intention of allowing Mr Whitledge to do that again.

“Why did you write him knowing he was going to act like that? And you’re a fool if you thought it would go any other way,” there was a twang of some sort of emotion in his voice though even Charles couldn’t have guessed what that emotion exactly was.

---

  

Emmeline stared at him in shock, her jaw even drop slightly as he spoke and continued on to call her a fool. Feeling a shift in the atmosphere or something, Emma jumped down from her lap and fled the kitchen. Smart cat. Emmeline should have followed suit and told him to get the hell out but she was frozen in her spot, simply staring.

"Because despite what happened that night, he had been my friend," she finally started to answer, no longer thinking and simply talking, "Because despite it all, I didn't want to lose that friendship. But clearly there's nothing there left. Not with the way it ended." She shook her head, trying to fight the feeling of wanting to cry.

"Why would you care?" she asked, now glaring at him, "Why would it matter to you in the slightest?"

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#LovelyLadySet

"Of course it did," Charles said sharply, "Because friends wouldn't get you drunk and then try to take advantage of your virtue and then try to manipulate you," He could feel his hands scratching at the table. He wanted to stop though knew he couldn't. This was the reason he couldn't become an auror.

There was a brief pause between comments before she finally spoke again and Charles exhaled with gritted teeth, "Oh, I don't know, Miss Woodcroft. Perhaps it's because we've been writing one another for almost two weeks and I enjoy your company. Perhaps it's because I can't stand seeing someone used like that."

And then, as if the flood gates had opened, Charles practically spat his words at her, "Perhaps it's because I feel a responsibility toward you. How foolish of me."

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Whatever Emmeline had been expected, it hadn't been that. Not in the slightest. He was damn near yelling at her and she didn't really know how to take it. She honestly hadn't thought he'd meant anything by the letters. Why would he? Any of the men she'd encountered weren't like this. Not at all. Though there hadn't been many. This was all turning into a damn mess.

But amidst all the confusion, she felt a bubble of anger as well. Anger over his talking to her in such a way, over being yelled at. Before she really knew what she was doing, she stood up and stalked over to his side of the table. Her hands came down on the table in front of him as she glared at him.

"You don't make any sense!" she exclaimed, eyes welled with tears by that time, "You don't know me at all. Letters are nothing yet you still persist without giving me any inclination as to what the hell is going on. What is this? What do you want from me." Because so help her if he hadn't thought of why he persisted on seeing her and seeing to her welfare, she'd strangle him. She couldn't handle the unknowns anymore. The omissions of truth had already ruined one friendship for her and she wasn't sure she could handle another.

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#LovelyLadySet

Flinching slightly as her hands came to the table, Charles looked up at her bitterly. He knew he wasn’t making any sense. None of this made sense. Why he had such vested interest in her was beyond him though the one thing he did know was he enjoyed her company and that had been enough.

Listening to her as she raised her voice at him, Charles remained silent.

Until she asked what this was. At that, his hands curled into fists and he exhaled deeply toward the table. A brief pause and she asked what he wanted from her.

And, as if his vision had turned to blackness and his mind became a void, Charles stood up, looking down at her and stepped up to her – pushing her back slightly, hands coming up to her shoulder, shaking her slightly – though his touch, all things considered, was rather gentle. He didn’t want to hurt her. He was restraining himself a lot.

“You,” he hissed and then took a step back, “I want you to stop acting as if other people have more worth than you do,” He could feel his voice raising.

Stop it, Charles. You can drink when you’re home and calm down. Do not take it out on Emmeline.

His thoughts screamed at him though his thoughts were not powerful enough to overcome his impulse in the moment, “I want you to stop acting as if your life is over because some bastard decided to pour alcohol and his tongue down your throat. It is damn well irritating and infuriating. Are you even aware of who you are, Emmeline? You talk as if you are some slum girl down on her luck with nothing in her life but some scorned lover bullshit. And it’s tiring.”  

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Emmeline continued to stare. She wasn't going to be cowed down to obey or to step back from it all. Even as he stood up and got so close to her, she didn't flinch. The tears, however, fell. There was no control over that even has he gave her the gentle shake as if he were trying to shake some sense into her or something when absolutely none of it made sense. And his words, even as he continued, still didn't make sense.

"What are you talking about?" she spat back, glaring at him as he took a step back. She didn't dare take a step closer as the silent tears streamed down her face.

"I know exactly who I am," she continued on, "I know exactly what I want but I can't take these what ifs! The whole reason for my fight with Mr. Whitledge is because he never told me any of what he felt. It's as bad as being lied to then to have it suddenly sprung on a person."

She shook her head and took a deep breath in. "I think you need to leave," she said slowly and quietly. She couldn't do this again. She couldn't have a friendship she was growing increasingly fond of blow up right in her face. Clearly it wasn't alcohol that ruined things for her. It was just, quite simply, her.

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#LovelyLadySet

He didn’t react to her tears. He was far too angry. Her question was lost on him. He didn’t respond. He just waited and allowed her to speak. He didn’t have any words to say. What she was saying made sense but that didn’t disregard how she’d spoken about herself and her situation prior. But he couldn’t say anymore. Instead, he put his hands in his pockets and simply… waited.

What could he say right now?

And then she took out a dagger and thrust it into his chest. He did not like being told that. His eyes softened as she told him to leave and he took a step back before inhaling once again.

The first time they’d met, Charles had said he would stay with her until she was calm and he stuck to it. He wasn’t about to go back on that now; even if he had caused the hurt this time.

“No,” he said, “not until you stop acting like some…” Like what? “Some silly school girl with some silly school girl crush. That Mr Whitledge is a bastard and I cannot believe you wrote him when all he did is cause you that amount of hurt the night we met.”

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Emmeline's gaze shot up to glare at him when he told her no. Of course he wouldn't. Of course he'd keep going on like some fool. How he thought this was still all about Mr. Whitledge she didn't have a clue. Stupid. Another word to add to his growing list of definitions in her mind.

"If you seriously think this is still all about Mr. Whitledge then you're far more stupid than you let on," she retorted, "I never had some silly school girl crush on him. The fight with him was something unexpected but not because I liked him."

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#LovelyLadySet

“Then what is this all about, Emmeline? Because from where I’m stood, you are shouting at me because I decided to tell you how foolish you were to talk to that bastard after what he’d done to you,” He said, his voice more tame than it had been, and stepped toward her, “And do not call me stupid.”

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Emmeline shook her head. Men were stupid. The whole lot of them. The life of a spinster despite having not even graduated look all the more appealing in that moment.

"It's about you and your need to see to my well being,"" she said, "I wrote him to see some sort of closure, not because I hoped he'd take me up into his arms like some mindless girl without a thought of her own." She'd been the naive innocent girl for far too long and she wasn't about to go down that road again.

"Why do you insist on being in my life when you don't know me?" she asked simply, "Why care for my well being and if I've an interest in that stupid bastard if you don't have some sort of reason to? Why are you still here and arguing with me?"

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#LovelyLadySet

He wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic or not at her telling him it was all about him. What did that even mean? He elected to ignore that and her remark about wanting closure. She could just have easily ignored it and let the closure come naturally, but she hadn’t. Instead, she’d been guilt-tripped into making it sound like what he’d did to her was nothing compared to what he’d been through. He didn’t care what Mr Whitledge had been through.

“I don’t know!” He huffed and stepped toward her, “I don’t know. Is it unlawful for me to care about you? Am I just as much a stupid bastard for enjoying our letters and seeing you? You cannot – will not – tell me what I can and can’t feel.” By the time he’d finished, he hadn’t noticed he was within inches of her face, looking down at her slightly, his hands on her arms.

He was too focused on whatever the fuck this was.

“And why is it even important if I enjoy your company?” He hissed.

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Emmeline stood stock still as he approached her again, intent on listening to his words. She had to know. Needed to know what was going on. For too long she'd sat back and just floated through life without ever really knowing what was going on in her life or what others thought. Ridiculous as it may be, she wanted to know what others thought of her. Especially when they were charming men to suddenly show up into her life and take care of her.

"Because.." she paused, not even sure where to go with it or what to say. Saying Mr. Whitledge had enjoyed her company wouldn't have helped even if she'd never known he had enjoyed her company as more than a friendship. "Because that's how it had started with him," she finally said, "And I was left in the dark with how he truly felt until he was drunk and thought to tell me. Because I don't want to be left in the dark again."

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#LovelyLadySet

With him, the words burned into his ears. Was she trying to hurt him? And why was it hurting him? They had barely known each other two weeks and already there was some weird… connection. He could feel it.

“And because I’m him, then, I suppose you expect me to leave you in the dark and then toss you aside if it doesn’t pan out how I’d hope?” Charles said and turned on the balls of his feet, running his hand through his hair.

He turned back to Emmeline and looked at her, a slight pained look in his eyes.

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Emmeline shook her head. The pain she saw in his eyes clearly reflected in her own.

"I don't know what to expect," she said quietly, her gaze falling to her hands in front of her as she fidgeted nervously with them, "Don't you understand. That night was my first experience with anything like this. How am I to know what to expect with anything like this when my opinions of it all have already been tainted in such a way?" It was an awful feeling really, a feeling of pure inadequacy that likely stemmed even further without her even realizing.

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#LovelyLadySet