My heart's like a fireplace in summer
It's useless and only here for show
8th August, 1890 — Hawthorne Hollow, Irvingly
@"Caroline Delaney"

Picnics were supposed to be simple.

Evander could hardly recall how he had suggested it, or why. Spending time with her at events was easy enough by now, but calling on her at home had not gotten less awkward in the few times he had done it: he felt as though he were under a microscope for every second of it. So, he had suggested a few activities, rather vaguely, and of them all she seemed keenest about a picnic.

So far, so good. Evander had not been parsimonious about the planning; he had checked the weather reports daily, had enlisted the cook to prepare a particular picnic menu that he had found in one of her books on household management, had checked this morning that everything had been packed properly in the picnic basket. Had found a perfect spot.

When they had reached that meadow spot early in the afternoon, a short walk out from Irvingly with Caroline and her recently married sister-in-law, Evander had remembered this plan’s one fatal flaw: he had never liked the outdoors, let alone picnics.

But thus far Caroline seemed to be perfectly happy, although the sandwiches had gotten squished on the journey, he was very aware of the little trails of ants that kept skirting, boldly, onto the edges of the blanket, and he kept losing track of the conversation in his efforts to discourage a pair of wasps from jam-on-scones or the lemonade. (Why had he never predicted a need for an insect-repelling charm?!)

“Mmm,” he agreed, as he swatted at the wasp with the back of his hand again, his concentration slipping once more. It was only when he focused back on Caroline that he had no idea what he had just agreed to or with. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

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---

A month into their courtship and Caroline was still incandescently happy. Evander had been perfectly attentive to her, calling on her, escorting her to events, even proposing outings such as this one. Most of the time it seem a bit out of his ... element, but Caroline could easily smooth that course for him. It was rather endearing to see just how much he cared, for this was why she reasoned he often seemed so nervous. To try and make it easier on him Caroline often invited Nimiane to chaperon her rather than Anthony or Shawn, fearing her brothers might make too persuasive of an argument for Evander to cease calling. No she wouldn't risk that.

Sitting outside on the blanket that had been carefully laid out Caroline was enjoying herself. She was no stranger to outdoor events, having spent much of her time in a family obsessed with the sea. The minor nuisances of such an outing were, in her mind, greatly outweighed by the charm of such an event. The bright sun shining down on them, the gentle breeze, the vibrant colors of green. Evander did not seem quite as enthused as she was, but she had endeavored to make him enjoy their outing as much as she was.

Caroline laughed as he finally admitted to his distraction. "I merely commented that it seems the wasps wish to enjoy the jam as much as I have." She teased, nodding at where his attention seemed to most recently have been. "Perhaps we should invite them to all of our events?" She tilted her head slightly as if she were being serious but her eyes crinkled in merriment.

"This is absolutely wonderful, Evander." Caroline's sincerity was clear even as she looked about them. "Thank you." She turned back to beam at him. Nimiane had wandered a short distance away to give them some privacy, which Caroline was rather grateful for - her brothers certainly wouldn't have done that. "Sometimes it feels like we are surrounded by too many people, it's nice not to have to try and slip away from them for a few moments with you." She met his gaze and added with a laugh, "Even if the wasps have decided to attended without an invitation."

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   Elias Grimstone

The one upside of it all was that Caroline was either trying her best to make things as simple and smooth as could be by being in an unmatched good humour; or she was just so naturally so that it made her effortlessly imperturbable and wondrously easy to please.

Perhaps he would attribute that to her American sensibilities. Evander was - obviously - still fretting over the details regardless. “Ah,” he said, almost sheepishly, with a mild grimace at the fact that she had needed to tease him at all. To recover this - she might seem well-contented, but he did not want to have to lie awake over it afterwards in regret - he retrained his gaze on her, resolving not to look away again.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her sister-in-law strolling some ways away, but he was trying not to pay attention to her supervision... or lack thereof. Caroline, on the other hand, certainly didn’t seem to feel any guilt about their relative privacy, since she had even brought it up directly. He broke into a smile, half-pleased and half-startled at her candour - perhaps because she always seemed so comfortable amongst those crowds of people, quite as much as she did here. Whereas... if he had thought he was out of his element interacting with her at social events, he had not conceived of the pressure of being the object of her full attention without anything to condition it. The freedom was almost alarming. What was he supposed to do with it? 

“Then I daresay the wasps are a small price to pay for the luxury,” Evander remarked, his mouth quirking upwards in a slight laugh and perfect sincerity (although if he had noticed the spot of cream at the corner of it, he would have been utterly mortified). Still, he ducked his gaze sooner than he had meant to unscrew the jam-pot and spoon out a layer of it into another glass to set apart from the picnic, quite resolved to exile or drown the wasps anyway. A good pretence to not think, for at least another interlude, on how he ought to make the most of the luxury of a few moments alone. “I suppose you are very rarely alone at all, in your life,” he added lightly, inquiringly. Brothers, chaperones, friends at parties; this must make something of a change. Irvingly itself was a great deal quieter than anywhere she had probably known.

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"Indeed." Caroline echoed enjoying the twist of a smile on his lips. Evander, she knew, smiled rarely. How charming it was when he smiled, even with cream on his mustache. She would have leaned forward and wiped it away with a napkin except that Evander moved to the jam pot. Caroline watched his movements but as he put the lid aside she was enchanted. How very sweet of him to give them some small prize for their role. A gentle smile crinkled her eyes as she watched him.

"Oh, I'd hardly say that." Caroline shrugged, "At home, perhaps. But here...." Caroline didn't wish him to think her pitiful but her life had more dull moments here than home. She'd spent years trying to find her place in British society and indeed there were parties and teas, balls, and social engagements to attend. But earnest friendships and causes that she had had back home... they didn't quite occupy the same space in her life here. "I find more time to myself than I would like. My brothers are often working and when I'm not at events, well," Caroline looked up at him with a bright smile that said she didn't mind it in the least, "I'm often left on my own."

  

She seemed almost amused by his tactic to rid them of the wasps; possibly she had interpreted it as a more whimsical gesture than an attempt at a death-trap. Evander thought it better not to remark, and let her think what she wished.

He moved back to where he had been sitting before and settled back into place beside her, retaining the carefully-calculated distance between them whether or not her sister-in-law was looking, and wishing he did not have the contents of that letter from Alfred echoing in his head. But surely picnics were already more spontaneous than a usual dinner, surely he would prove him wrong on more counts than one -

Caroline’s answer pulled his focus, thankfully, and Evander looked back at her, almost quite entranced by her honesty. He supposed it took a great deal of resolve to be uprooted as she had been, courage to stay in an unknown place; he wondered what she was accustomed to doing, when left to her own devices in that London townhouse. She seemed the sort to throw herself wholeheartedly into anything.

“I... I grew to know that feeling rather well, myself,” Evander remarked, though he imagined it would sound less surprising from him. He had been well used to having time to himself - being the one who stayed - even before he had lost his sister and his mother had passed away, and Alfred had been gone so long that his empty house was almost all he knew. He would not pretend he had disliked it, but he hadn’t known anything different. “Until quite recently, at least.” He had been thinking of Charity as he said it; but he could not fault Caroline if she presumed it was about her, either, for it was equally accurate - her company had punctuated his days in quite the consistent fashion. And he did not mind it.

He only wished he did not feel so daunted by something as supposedly simple as making conversation in her presence; if he were only a little more relaxed, Evander might have managed to stop and think and ease his worry, let things sit more naturally, more relaxed, perhaps even find the silence comfortable and not a gaping expectation. “As long as you have not tired of your life here,” he said, as brightly as he could bear, wondering what it was she saw in Britain that had seen her stay with her brothers here at all. “But have you been to Irvingly often? What do you think of it?” It was not the centre of the social season by any means; London was a very different kettle of fish. (But being uprooted from London to Irvingly was hardly a move across the Atlantic, was it?)

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There was something in the way Evander glanced at her when he admitted his life had recently grown more active that had a soft smile on understanding slipping onto Caroline's lips. She had suspected that Evander spent much of his time alone, but the confirmation of it and the pride in the idea that she had been the one to introduce a level of activity to it, well it made her happy. Granted he likely also meant Charity's own arrival in his life as well.

"Oh how could I?" Caroline waved the thought away. No, she found London, indeed Britain quite enchanting. If she ever did tire of it there was always Europe to explore, a thought that she felt she could easily sway Evander toward in their future if more permanent plans were ever brought up.

"I can't say I've been there often, but occasionally." The prospect of Irvingly as a future was not an unpleasant one, Caroline had grown to find. From her first visit she had been enchanted by the small hamlet, the very idea that such a place could exist in harmony was a curiosity to her. While it was quiet there, there were always magical means of traveling and it had the added benefit of her favorite brother and his wife being nearby enough to make it easier for her to visit with Nimiane. Besides with her dowry there would be plenty of money for a second home. "I find it charming. It is so different from anything back home. To think that non-mag, sorry, muggles, and wizards can live happily together - it is fascinating. There's something so hopeful, even enchanting, about such a place."

  

Well, he hoped she would not mind living here. And he had to admit to being pleased by her answer - what with his work and seeing the worst consequences of magic in a muggle world, he had always been rather invested in the Ministry’s attempts to help the two cultures co-exist. Which was why America was such an interesting case study, too... But Evander had considered appropriate picnic topics long enough to have an inkling that dissecting the pros and cons of Irvingly and its no-magic policies was not leaping up amongst them.

Instead, he let out a breath and worked up enough courage to survey her a little more candidly, some curiosity - or puzzlement, perhaps - in his eye. Irvingly, the notion of a picnic, even the blasted wasps... He offered her a small smile, a slightly incredulous laugh lurking at the back of his throat. “You know, I am beginning to think you would find almost anything you encountered perfectly enchanting.” Apparently she could even find him charming, so it really was a testament to her character. Could she really be so perfect as that? He was only half-teasing as he added: “Is there nothing you do not like?”

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Mr. Darrow’s look focused on her more intently before as he considered her answer. His words had a tinkling laugh lifting over lips. “Oh I’m sure there is something.” She began when a droplet of water landed on her cheek. In the breathe between realizing the significance of the water and the downpour about to unleash on their heads there was a roll of thunder.

The first drop was quickly followed by another as Caroline glanced over her shoulder at where the clouds had been gathering. The rain pattered around them as another peal of thunder sounded. So much for an idyllic picnic.

  

So she said, but in so pleasant a manner he could not believe it. And perhaps it was better not to look for flaws: he did that in everything else. He need not look for them here. Let Alfred think it a strange development, if he liked; perhaps everything would go perfectly smoothly, and he would be able to prove him wrong.

But there was no time. Evander caught the drop of water on her cheek a split-second before he felt one on his forehead and cursed the world. (And himself for dreaming of drowning the wasps. In jam, he had meant, not in a flood of rain.) It was no exaggeration: as rain so often did in Scotland, it came down in a downpour, the first few drips becoming a constant patter in a matter of moments - and the thunder. Why hadn’t he seen the slate grey in the sky coming? Why hadn’t he heard the rumbling?

“But I checked the weather report,” Evander blurted out in disbelief, pushing himself up on his knees, disoriented and dismayed. The rest of the picnic was still laid out - the rest of the scones would be ruined - and they would both soon be as good as drowned rats. He had his wand, of course he did, but they were not that far out in Hawthorne Hollow. This was still within the bounds of Irvingly. And the first rule of Irvingly was no magic out-of-doors. And rules were rules. Evander had always been so fond of them.

“I’m so sorry,” he said beseechingly, mortally wounded that the weather witches in the Daily Prophet should be so wrong, even more mortified that she should think this day so badly planned when he swore it had been anything but. He stood up, threw a few things into the basket, bottles and cutlery clinking against each other haphazardly, and held out his hand to help her up; though to what end, he wasn’t sure, as they both were already getting soundly drenched. Fuck fuck fuck.

This was more than a shower, to be sure; the whole storm was rolling in, and if there was thunder lightning would soon be on its way. “This way -” he gestured with a nod of his head, rivulets sliding down the side of his face; it was some way back into the village, but there would be somewhere to shelter until the sky cleared - the church was not so far.

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   Caroline Darrow, Melody Crouch

---

Poor Mr. Darrow looked like someone had just told him Caroline would be setting out on a ship tomorrow. (Or perhaps that just how she hoped he might look if she did.) There were somethings that were entirely unavoidable though, faulty weather reports were one of them. “There is no way to control the weather, Evander.” Caroline found herself assuring him as the rain fell harder and harder down on them. She helped him gather their things, glancing around for Nimiane, she wasn’t quite sure where her chaperon had gone, but through the rain she couldn’t even see her.

Taking Evander’s extended hand Caroline stood up, feeling the icy chill as her dress began to stick to her skin. She grabbed the blanket that they had sat on, hoping perhaps in some way it might provide cover. Although cover against a storm was altogether not sufficient in the form of a blanket. She nodded at him, keeping a hold of his hand as they made a run for whatever was this way.

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   Evander Darrow, Melody Crouch

“Still, I -” Evander protested, the sentence sputtering out; better a time for action than to argue, lest she caught her death out here. She took the blanket and he the basket, and he had only meant to hold her hand for a moment, but it seemed - safer - to keep a grasp on her as they went, to lead the way, to be sure she did not slip on the grass.

The first building that appeared on the horizon was the Church of St. Fergus, and though it hadn’t been that far a dash, his heart was thudding heavily in his chest as they reached the hollow-side gate of the churchyard. He tugged her into the gateway, grateful for a little wooden porch over the gate that was enough shelter for them both without forcing them into the church itself.

He released her hand and set down the now-dripping basket, noting the blanket was also sopping wet before he took in the state of Caroline. He was certain he looked just as bad... not that the rain had done her any disservice.

Evander swallowed, pushing a hand through his hair as he caught his breath, his gaze affixed to her as another clap of thunder echoed. Somehow his heart was still racing, even standing still -

“Your chaperon!” He remembered suddenly, forcing his gaze from her to scan the way they’d come. Mrs. Delaney had already been wandering off at some distance, so no wonder he’d forgotten her in the moment, but still. Running off with her charge and leaving her out in a thunderstorm was certainly not the sort of thing that graced the pages of a single etiquette book. Now he probably looked a right cad. He glanced at Caroline worriedly, glad that at least with the weather in this state no one would be likely to happen upon them here, in this state. “Should I - go look for her?”

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Ahead of them Caroline saw Nimiane’s lithe form enter the church in an attempt to take shelter from the storm. Caroline was glad to see that her sister in law had the situation well underhand, Shawn would have been absolutely furious if he knew that Caroline had left his magicless wife to fend for herself.

There was something about running in the rain, hands clasped and seeking shelter that made Caroline laugh. It was thrilling really, almost an adventure. As they came to a stop under the wooden porch she tried to catch her breathe between giggles. Looking up at Mr. Darrow she couldn’t help but smile, but the look he was giving her, why she almost felt she’d never catch her breathe - it seemed to have vanished entirely. Would now be the time he finally kissed her?

She keenly felt the disappointment when Evander remembered Nimiane. Any other man might have taken advantage of the situation, after all such situations were expected now that they were courting, but as always he was being responsible. Caroline could hardly fault him for that. Nor his worry over her sister in law, Shawn would appreciate that about Evander certainly.

“No, she is alright. I saw her ahead of us. I think she took shelter in the church.” Caroline gave him a smile.

“You worry too much Evander.” Caroline told him gently reaching forward with the soaked blanket to try and towel off some of the droplets of water on the side of his face, not that it’s do any good, but it was the thought that counted.

  

He couldn’t say what had possibly made her laugh, but he let her be, and just glanced gratefully towards the church as Caroline reassured him about her sister-in-law. Thank Merlin - or God, in this case - for that.

His smile of relief was cut short, slightly, at what else she had to say. “You won’t be saying that if you catch your death of cold because of me,” he countered (finding that fear quite reasonable), but at the same time acknowledged the chastisement with a small pang of embarrassment. He could not apologise for it, any more than he could prevent himself - but he did not want to exasperate her with his habits, either. If that was what she thought, so be it. He knew she was right, and even so, he hated it.

But now she had begun fussing over him, and there was something so unthinking in the gesture, so comforting and understated and domestic about it that it almost spun the world askew, struck him speechless for a moment. Evander ought to be drying her face, if anyone was doing anything; she was as bedraggled as he was - and there must still be some way to salvage this mess of an outing, whether or not she seemed so much less dismayed by every part of it. Besides, whatever she thought, from his perspective there was still a great deal to worry about: new concerns leapt to mind every moment, unbidden. What if Caroline tired of him sooner rather than later - not just today, but overall - decided it was not at all worth the effort and gave up on him for good? What if Alfred had been entirely right in that damned letter too, and he was incapable of all passion, even in the midst of a courtship? What if everything else went wrong with it, what if he was paralysed at every opportunity until there was nothing left of this, and he came away from it knowing he had murdered every chance?

Covering Caroline’s cold hand with his, he pulled it and the blanket down from the side of his face and firmly out of the way. Carefully, he brushed a damp lock of her hair back behind her ear and looked at her mouth, deliberating. Still attempting to stamp down every last degree of trepidation, he tilted her chin ever so slightly up, and - before he could talk himself out of it, before the rain could stop - leant down to close the gap between them.

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   Fallon Gillespie

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“If I catch my death from this, it shall have been worth it for a small adventure with you.” Caroline assured him with a quirk of her lips. She hardly doubted that she should die simply because of an ill timed rain storm over a picnic. She’d been through worse just on her passage over, to let such a thing worry her. But his worry, she could see it there in his eyes, was a testament to his feelings for her and that was certainly not a thing to be easily dismissed.

Evander’s hand was warm against her own (her gloves had been abandoned in pursuit of scones sometime earlier) as he pushed away her ministrations. His other hand reached toward her and Caroline leaned in. She could feel his very presence, her body tingling and drawing her closer as their eyes met and his face came toward her. With a tilt of her head and a slight tip of her toes Caroline’s lips met his own. No longer could she feel the cold of the rain around them, Evander’s warmth wrapped around her a hearth warmed blanket.

When at last the kiss ended (as all good kisses go she felt it had ended much too soon) Caroline’s green eyes met his gaze, a smile on her lips, she found she wasn’t quite sure what it was she wanted to say that might explain her feelings. A part of her worry that if she did say anything at all Mr. Darrow might retreat, leaving her feeling foolish for having said anything to ruin this moment in the first place.

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   Evander Darrow, Fallon Gillespie

He could scarcely believe that he had done it, hadn’t the faintest idea what he was thinking - but for a moment in the midst of it, fortunately, all thought had stopped. Or thought had been drowned out by sensation, layers upon layers of it: the softness of her lips on his; being conscious of a balled-up feeling in his chest that was like stress but very different; and God only knew what his gut was doing at the moment. One kiss was not objectively much - a very slight action should not rationally elicit such feeling - but perhaps it came down to a lack of habitual touch in his day-to-day existence, because at the moment it felt like rather a lot. 

But if he had been trying to prove something, he supposed he had proved it, Evander considered in relief as he drew back; if he had wanted to show some gratitude for her kindness and affection and good nature and return one small gesture with another, well - she was smiling now, so perhaps he had achieved that and could seal it off now, mark it as complete, a gesture returned. But, he realised, once again feeling his clothes uncomfortably soaked through to the skin and his hands numb in spite of the warmth of hers and a stray, irksome drop of rain still rolling down the side of his nose... in reality, if that had done anything, it was to open new windows and doors and possibly even desires, and he felt, abruptly, that they were going to be harder to keep closed down than before.

Breaking rules in life, as in the law, was beginning to look like a slippery slope. Evander was not sure, quite honestly, how to proceed from this moment: he had not planned to kiss her today, and thus had not planned the post-kiss state of the universe. Hm.

She hadn’t said anything, and although he had succeeded in meeting her gaze afterwards, that she said nothing was a little worrying. Was she waiting for him to say something? There wasn’t even an escape from this situation, as long as it was raining! So what on earth were they going to do now, still stuck under a covered church-gate together and still soaked to the bone? Kissing her had absolutely thrown the awkwardness into sharper relief; Evander also managed to illustrate this truth as he tried to step backwards, and ended up half-stumbling over the sodden blanket.

“Er -” He cleared his throat and looked away from her, deciding the best course of action was to pretend nothing had happened between them and go on as before. Absolutely no adventure is worth dying for, he might have protested aloud, if he could only remember what on earth they had been talking about earlier. Nor was searching for an appropriate new topic an easy endeavour, for he was not completely confident his brain was functioning at its usual capacity yet; as such, he settled, lamely, for the best he could come up with under pressure.

“Dreadful weather for August, though, even for Scotland,” he mumbled at last, as if they were strangers waiting at a bus stop.

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   Fallon Gillespie

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There was no reading Evander's face as he stepped back, no stumbled back as if he had see her chaperon creep up on them unexpectedly. Except it was only the two of them still, surrounded by rain.

He had just kissed her. The thought continued to echo in her mind. He had just kissed her … and now he was talking about the weather? Caroline had never had anyone react that way before. Had it truly been so bad? Her cheeks flamed red as if this had been her first kiss, her eyes wide in disbelief. But that was the thing, she had been kissed before and never had she seen his reaction before. It was both baffling and a tinge mortifying.

"Yes, indeed." She saw no other way but to agree with him as she averted her eyes and stared out at the rain.

Caroline waited a beat, wondering if she ought to say something, but she simply couldn't leave it like that. " I'm not offended, Evander." Caroline told him, turning her gaze on him. The only probable reason she could think for his behavior was his strict adherence of social expectations. But couples weren't meant to wait till marriage to sneak a kiss. It was something they were expected to do, sneak away from chaperones, see if there was some element there. Otherwise, Caroline thought, one could easily be trapped in a loveless marriage, and that kiss from Evander hadn't seemed loveless to her.

The following 1 user Likes Caroline Darrow's post:1 user Likes Caroline Darrow's post
   Fallon Gillespie