What The Heart Wants

August 15, 1867, Thursday
Bow Street Magistrate’s Court, London

He was pattering about the engagement, his voice low and instructive, giving her a quick overview of what was to be expected of her as well as gently, but pointedly fussing at her for her indiscretion.

“Not that he is a bad match for you, mademoiselle, but I would have preferred that you, umm, have allowed for this matter to progress in the proper and respectable manner,” the hobbit was saying softly. “His letter of introduction should have preceded this incident. We will be hard-pressed to send the announcement to the papers. Even then, there will be rumors. We must sit and write the announcement as soon as possible.” He looked about. “I need to get you home. What is taking them so long? A lady of your stature should not be here.”

Katherine nodded absently, sighing. “I was not thinking, Neecy. Forgive me.”

“It is not for I to forgive, miss. Your father is the aggrieved one.”

An eyebrow rose elegantly. “Can one be aggrieved before one knows that one should be?”

He sputtered as she knew he would. “One does not need to know that one is aggrieved for the aggrievement to happen. It happens; therefore it is.”

“Ah.” She tightened the shawl about her shoulders and favored him with a bright smile. “Ezekiel and I seem to have been bad children then.”

The small man drew himself up and his aura grew to its full height of ten foot two. “There is no humor in this, mademoiselle. Only repercussions. Only repercussions.”

Her laugh was a gentle snort. “But not unpleasant ones, Neecy. Ezekiel is quite well-matched to me in mind and thought. He will give me the freedom to be who I am. I hope that I may offer the same to him.”

Nor is he unpleasant on the eyes, she thought as the hobbit gasped and started fussing again. She thought of his lips on her hand and smiled. How would those lips taste on hers?

“And who is that?!” Neecy announced. “Who I am, you say? You have the freedoms accorded to a lady and the responsibilities---“ Tuning him out, she looked about to find Ezekiel. He had been close and now she sensed that he was no longer near her. Her hand had been in his as they had ran; she wanted that now and found herself resenting the rules that would not allow it. Having had it and then having it taken away was an annoyance that she would have not admitted existed before this evening. The rush of emotions still disconcerted her and made her eyes keen as she searched surreptitiously to find him. She could not appear too eager to find him, of that she was certain; surely there was a rule against that also.

He was with the detective woman. Her lips opened in a silent protest and she forcefully closed them, crushing the rush of jealousy that erupted within her. Her stomach wrenched despite her efforts and she gasped softly. Love could cause physical pain. That information, she had forgotten. That information, she had demanded of herself that she forget. How long have I cared for him and yet refused to? And now that I’m aware of what I try to ignore, how can I ignore it? She took a long, deep breath to calm herself. She could forget what she wanted as well as what she did not want to forget. And she would forget her emotions at the tableau before her. Neecy would surely say that it was unbecoming for a lady to be jealous. Only guttersnipes would allow such base expressions of emotions.

“Are you well, mademoiselle?” Neecy asked in a worried tone. She broke her eyes free from the couple and gave him her attention. He was not yet her husband. She would not constrain him. She would give the freedom that she herself would demand and the trust that such freedom demanded. He would never think twice about giving her the same respect and yet. . . She inhaled deeply again to let her mind try to find peace and examine the searing pain in her heart. It hurt like an open wound to watch the two of them together. The woman seemed so engrossed and Ezekiel was according her all due attention as well a gentleman should. She felt her knees weaken with the effort to appear nonchalant and felt the fire within her burning through her eyes and soul. It is a crush with all its irrationalities and maelstrom of emotions. This too shall pass and our love will mature. You cannot change those things that you admire about him. To refuse him to others is to refuse him to yourself. You should feel pride that he is a true gentleman in all ways. You are fortunate that he seems to be fond of you and has consented to marry you. Do not stare, Katherine. Look away and give him his freedom.

She closed her eyes and then looked at the hobbit. “I am tired, Neecy,” she answered softly. “Do continue.” She gave him a reassuring smile and though he gave her a worried stare, he continued to walk her through the engagement plans. Her heart continued to keen, the childish wail full of misery and fury, but she focused on Neecy. There were things expected of a lady. There was behavior expected of a lady. There was a gilded cage expected around a lady.

And that cage was crushing her bursting heart.

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