April 6th, 1891 - The Cruise Ship Santa Antonina

Once they had actual privacy, things progressed faster than Camilla had anticipated. Mr. Prewett had been surprisingly deft at undressing her, and it was with an unprecedented amount of confidence that Camilla guided him to the correct bed. (For she doubted that Bellona would forgive her for defiling hers.)

She had flickers of calculation, flickers of coherent thought — the most distinct being it’s better to be ruined than to be unwanted — but it was all a little perfunctory, especially the act itself. After the first moment of pain, which she’d read enough about to expect, Camilla actually sort of enjoyed it — although she felt it was less that Mr. Prewett was here for her and more that Mr. Prewett was here for sex. He was a rake, though, so — perhaps she ought not be surprised.

Mr. Prewett had just rolled off her when the door opened.

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   Angelica Selwyn

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The longer she was on the boat, the more Matilda was reminded that she'd never liked being out at sea. She had been offshore a handful of times since her marriage to Domitian, but no more than was required of her. In truth, she enjoyed the idea of being out at sea, and each time before boarding reassured herself that it could not be that terrible, only to find herself overcome with nausea once they were a few miles from shore. But like a proper lady she had kept her vomiting in the privacy of her own cabin, and had tried to put on a smile for the sake of her husband and his two unmarried sisters.

She had just finished chatting with an old school friend who she'd reconnected with onboard when she made the decision to return to her cabin. She and Dom shared the one across the hall from his sisters—an awkward arrangement, given that they rarely even shared a bed nowadays to perform their marital duties—and after soothing her stomach with a potion she'd had brewed before setting off she thought to check on her sisters-in-law to see if either of them cared to promenade above deck.

She held her hand up to knock on the door, but was startled by the sound of a man. It was not a voice, but a noise—but it was distinctly masculine. Her first reaction was that one of the crew staff had barged their way in, or that her sisters were being robbed or worse, so with a rapid heartbeat she pushed the door open and—

Her face tensed up in horror. "Camilla," she gasped, her hand flying to her chest as it tightened. There here sister-in-law was, under the bedsheets, naked, next to the similarly naked body of... "- and Fitzroy?" she added, as if she were fourteen again and he was being an annoying little brat. Her own cousin, bare-chested and his most intimate bits barely covered by the white bedsheets, looked as though he'd just run a marathon. Her stomach was suddenly churning, but not from the boat's movements. She walked further in the room and closed the door behind her, not wanting to attract the attention of anyone who might decide to pass through.

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Shit, she should have locked the door behind them. Camilla took in Matilda in the increased light from the hallway, blinking as her sister-in-law closed the door. She had not wanted to be caught — well, obviously — and tugged the sheets further over her, concealing any of the skin under her neckline. She did not know what to say. Responding to being caught seemed to be the man’s job.

A part of her wondered — since she had been caught, maybe this would spur her father to make a hasty arrangement for her?

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A locked door. It could serve as a counter to curiosity or a protection for secrets. It could inspire youthful invention or rouse suspicion. It was utterly crucial when taking to bed someone who was not one’s spouse.

It had been overlooked entirely by both Fitz and Miss Zabini—Camilla, probably, now that he had been inside her—as their heated passions had given them other priorities.

And now he was laying in bed beside his latest conquest with his cousin (and Camilla’s sister-in-law) looming over them like a Titan.

Fitz hastened to adjust the bedsheets so that he might be better covered.

“I would say that it isn’t what it looks like,” he remarked dryly after a what seemed like a decades-long silence, “but I don’t imagine you would believe me.”

  

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Matilda felt as though she ought to have something to say—and something profound at that, because it wasn't every day she found her cousin sleeping with her sister-in-law, and for all she knew they'd been doing this long before now. She should say something in defense of her sister-in-law's honor—tell Fitzroy that he'd have a wife by the time she was through with him—but she equally wanted to admonish Camilla for her brash indecency.

But instead, her face grew increasingly red and she could only look back and forth with them with an expression of pure outrage.

A moment had passed, and her tongue seemed to find its will to speak once more. "Explain yourselves. Now." She was tempted to add or Domitian will hear about this, but then she realized: Domitian would hear about this, whether they liked it or not.

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Mr. Prewett was not exactly particularly helpful for someone who had given her no illusions that he was new to this, and Camilla may have elbowed him if she was not so concentrated on remaining perfectly still under the sheets. It was as if a part of her hoped that if she remained perfectly still long enough, they could skip forward to whatever the consequences were — Camilla did not have any particular fear of the consequences for herself, and never mind that these things usually went worse for the girls — and just cut through this conversation. Or, perhaps she had decided that Matilda’s vision was based on movement.

Or Matilda was speaking, now, so never mind that, then.

”We did not — intend for this to happen?” Camilla attempted. Her tone was not as ashamed as it should have been, probably, although it was higher-pitched than usual and the flush on her cheeks was genuine.

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Fitzroy knew two things with absolute certainty.

The first was that Matilda did not need any sort of explanation, for there was none that would satisfy his cousin. While she might have merely been startled and abandoned the vicinity had she found him in bed with any other woman, Camilla was under her care, more or less, for the duration of the voyage, a responsibility she simply could not abdicate.

The second was entirely more disquieting: Fitz Prewett was altogether in over his head.

  

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The explanation, naturally, did nothing to quell her anger. Her eyes narrowed, but in Fitzroy’s direction rather than her sister-in-laws. She could believe that Camilla had no intention of hopping into bed with her cousin, but she could not believe - not even for one second - that Fitzroy had no intention of hopping into bed with Camilla.

“Do you realize what you’ve done?” she said, her voice quiet but deadly. “You have ruined her - a girl who’s in no position to be tainted by scandal than she already has.” The Zabini family drama was one frequently thought of but much less spoken about aloud - but in this moment she could not help but remind him that Camilla was five-and-twenty, unmarried, and had unreasonable expectations set by her father for marriage. If there had been one thing she’d possessed before this moment - she assumed, unless this was a regular thing for Camilla - was her virtue.

“You will remedy this. Domitian will see to it.” She turned her eyes back to Camilla, but could not find adequate words to voice her disappointment. Matilda had endured many things - scandal, loss of connections, a marriage that did not satisfy her heart nor her desires - but never has she sought the company of a gentleman other than her husband. If Camilla was determined to act a whore, the least she could do was marry first.

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   Camilla Prewett

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“She’s hardly ruined!” Fitzroy protested quickly, though he did not allow his voice to raise too high—Matilda was more than enough audience for his tastes. “There is no damage done unless tongues start wagging!”

Merlin help him, her brother would kill him.

  

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Better to be ruined than to be unwanted, Camilla thought again. She did not voice it — only because Mr. Prewett was still here, though, because she thought that might actually soften Matilda. Her dignity would not allow her to say such a thing in front of the man who had just — deflowered her.

”Matilda…” Camilla said, trailing off. She did want Matilda to tell Domitian, because if Matilda told Domitian then maybe her father would arrange something for her and she would have an out, but she could not reveal all her cards off the bat, and she ought to want Domitian to not know. But Camilla so rarely saw Domitian express emotions that she did not think this would be an exception; no, her brother would do the right thing for the family and then she would have an out from spinsterdom.

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No damage?

Her gaze was once again on Fitzroy, her brown eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched tight. “And you would be so sure of this?” she asked, her voice shrilly. Matilda did her best to keep a cool composure on a daily basis, but on this occasion it was all she could do from picking up the nearest object and chucking it at her cousin’s head.

“You cannot be, and you know that. What if she ends up…?” She placed a hand on her stomach, finding it difficult to voice her meaning aloud. The thought of Camilla carrying her cousin’s bastard was not only unappealing - it was outright sickening.

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“She won’t,” Fitz insisted with the baseless confidence of a man who wanted out of this conversation. While his anatomical differences guaranteed no such thing (given his wife had died as a result of her pregnancy), he was fairly certain a woman could not become pregnant in her first tumble.

And if she did, well, that was rather more her problem, was it not? Fitz was not so ungallant that he would simply leave Camilla to the wolves—it would be dishonourable, and she was a nice enough girl who did not deserve to be eaten alive by society. He was, however, wise enough to know that pregnancy did not need to result in motherhood.

  

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Oh. Pregnancy was not an outcome she’d fully considered even knowing the risk — it really was shocking how few concerns she’d had once they were in the room, but there was something about him that was a little intoxicating — and Camilla frowned from under the sheet.

”Could that really happen?” she asked Matilda; Mr. Prewett seemed confident that it wouldn’t, but since she had children, Matilda was probably a better source.

  

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The two different reactions gave Matilda a clear picture of what this situation could look like moving forward. Domitian, however distant, was not entirely unpredictable; he did what was best for his family, and if he was at all on the same wavelength as Matilda it would mean seeing that Camilla was hastily married off.

Fitzroy was an entirely different matter.

Matilda did not know her cousin terribly well, but she knew enough about him, both through the family rumor mill and through society's rumor mill, to assume that he would not take well to being pressured into anything. He seemed so certain that she could not be with child, and in truth Matilda did not know how probable it was for a woman to be impregnated the same night she lost her virtue, but she did not think it was impossible.

"I don't see why it couldn't," she answered, with a stern look in Fitzroy's direction. What she was less willing to vocalize, despite how easily it came to mind, was that he ought to be more worried about the other consequences that might come from defiling Camilla's honor. She was outraged, but Camilla was merely her sister-in-law.

Domitian was her brother by blood - and he could be scary.

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Merlin, if only they weren’t at sea.

In England, Fitz would have been able to apparate home—true, he might give the housekeeper a bit of a fright, being naked and all, but at least he’d be out of this situation. The only good thing about it was that his cousin was unlikely to take his remaining testicle. He was, however, still naked, and Matilda still stood between him and freedom.

“It would seem we are at something of an impasse,” he offered with what he hoped was a good-natured smile, but indeed, likely looked quite strained.

  

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