Chapter Text
Phoenix was sitting by himself the next morning and writing to Maya while Ema and Lana had gone out the the village. They had invited him to go with them, but he kindly declined, feeling the necessity of writing to his little sister. He had received a letter earlier that morning comprising a few lines that made it clear Maya was not happy. She hadn't heard a word from Miss Von Karma since being in London, and had given up hope of seeing her at all. Phoenix wished he was there to accompany her, and was in the middle of writing her a very heartfelt letter.
He was startled, however, by a knock at the door, and began hastily putting away his half-finished letter when the door suddenly opened and, to his very great surprise, Mr. Edgeworth and Mr. Edgeworth only walked into the room.
He did not seem the least bit surprised, either, on finding Phoenix there alone; though he did look somewhat flushed and out of breath, as if he had arrived in a hurry. Phoenix, perplexed, assumed that he had come on business, and accordingly said, “I’m afraid Miss Skye has gone to town. She should be back soon.”
”I did not come for her.”
”Oh,” said Phoenix dumbfounded. “Okay. Please, do be seated.”
Mr. Edgeworth sat down, but had nothing further to say, and they seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was absolutely necessary, therefore, to find some topic of conversation. After a few moments, and feeling curious on what he would say on the subject, Phoenix observed,
"how very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last week, Mr. Edgeworth! I'm surprised to not see your sister and mentor here with you. Are they well?”
"Quite well. Thank you."
Phoenix found that this was the only reply he was to receive, and after a moment's pause, he continued, "I think I understood that your mentor does not wish ever to return to the country?"
"I have never heard him say so outright, but it is true that he dislikes to stay in one place for too long.”
Phoenix hummed. "Have you ever heard the tale of the town mouse and the country mouse?” He asked after a moment.
Mr. Edgeworth looked a little confused. "I have."
"And?”
”And what?”
"Well, the town mouse lives a life of luxury tortured by fear, and the country mouse lives a simple life of peace and safety." Phoenix raised an eyebrow. "Which would you prefer?"
"When you phrase it like that, it makes the country mouse seem much more appealing. But you forget that in order to change the world, one must live in it."
"Change the world? That sounds exhausting. I'll start with changing my clothes every day."
Mr. Edgeworth drew his chair a little towards Phoenix and said, "Everybody wants to be a hero in some way. Everybody wants to change the world at least a little."
Phoenix looked surprised. The gentleman experienced some change of feeling; he drew back his chair, took up a newspaper, and after surveying it for a moment, said in a colder voice, "this is a charming house. Miss Skye has excellent taste."
Phoenix gave a short affirmation, and they said no more. A few minutes passed in silence before the door was opened, signaling the return of the Skye sisters. Mr. Edgeworth stood from his place at the table and said, "good day, Mr. Wright. It's been a pleasure." He then hastily made his way out of the room, only giving the two sisters a slight bow on his way out. Ema then entered with two handfuls of shopping bags and a very amused smile on her face.
"What on earth have you done to poor Mr. Edgeworth?" She asked, incredulous.
"I have no idea.”
***
This, unfortunately, was not the only time Phoenix unexpectedly met Mr. Edgeworth.
Twice more did he encounter the man while he was making a solitary walk through the park. He could usually be assured of solitude during his outdoor strolls; so to encounter Mr. Edgeworth was a most ill-time, unlucky event.
“I did not know you walked, Mr. Edgeworth,” he said contemptuously.
”I’m picking up the habit,” the other man replied with a smile.
Phoenix felt all the misfortune of such a chance encounter, and made a point of telling Mr. Edgeworth that he walked along the park every morning. He was sure, with that information in mind, that Mr. Edgeworth would take care to avoid him. But the next day, to his astonishment, the man was waiting for him yet again. It seemed like willful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance, for, on both occasions, Mr. Edgeworth did not just make a few formal inquiries and be on his way, but he actually felt it necessary to turn and walk back with Phoenix. He didn't say much, and Phoenix did not distress himself by trying to talk to him.
But it struck him, on their second encounter, that Mr. Edgeworth was asking him some odd unconnected questions - questions about his employment, his friends, his family, and, oddly, his favorite foods. Phoenix was confused, but answered with as much civility as he could. He realized, at last, that Mr. Edgeworth was practicing; though he did not understand why.
Phoenix’s final day at Skye Lodge approached quickly. The sky that morning was dark and gloomy, and thunder was rumbling in the distance, and Phoenix was certain that with the weather as it was, he would not be so unfortunate as to run into Mr. Edgeworth a third time. But as he was nearing the parsonage, he was approached by a man, and fearing it to be Mr. Edgeworth, he struck into another path to avoid him. But the man followed, and Phoenix saw, to his infinite relief, that it was not Mr. Edgeworth but Detective Gumshoe. He immediately broke into a smile. “Detective! Forgive me, I thought you were someone else.”
"Who, pal?”
Phoenix shook his head. "Never mind - are you walking this way as well?"
Gumshoe replied that he was, and invited Phoenix to walk the rest of the way with him. Phoenix accepted, and happily fell into step alongside Gumshoe.
"So how long do you plan to stay in this part of London, Detective?"
"As long as Mr. Edgeworth chooses. I'm at his disposal."
"Is that so?"
"I suppose I could leave," Gumshoe mused, "but I would probably have my salary cut again. I'm down to peanuts as is."
"Hm," Phoenix said with contempt. "I see Edgeworth is just as callous to you as he is to everyone else. I think his sister is the only person I've seen him be civil towards."
"Mr. Edgeworth cares very deeply about his sister," said Gumshoe ardently. "In fact, he told me on my way here that he'd just saved her from an imprudent marriage."
Phoenix colored. "What?"
"Apparently, Miss Von Karma was planning to propose to another young lady. I'm not sure who, exactly. But Mr. Edgeworth put a stop to it just in time."
"He put a stop to it?" Phoenix's eyes flickered to Mr. Edgeworth, who was sitting a few rows ahead of them. "Did he... give a reason for his interference?"
"There were apparently strong objections to the relationship as a whole.”
“What kind of objections? Her lack of fortune?”
”I believe her situation was generally considered unsuitable.”
Phoenix stared straight ahead and swallowed. "So he separated them."
"I believe so. I know nothing else."
Phoenix was quiet for a moment, his heart numb, his thoughts racing. Detective Gumshoe asked him what was the matter, but he only shook his head and said,
"Mr. Edgeworth's conduct does not suit my feelings. Why was he to be the judge of his sister's life?"
"Well, I can only think there wasn't much affection in the first place, pal."
"Yes," said Phoenix through gritted teeth. "That can be the only possible explanation."
He walked on, his heart swelling with indignation, and when it began to rain and Gumshoe ran ahead to take shelter, Phoenix hardly noticed. He continued walking at a slow, steady pace until he was absolutely soaked, but he didn't care. He was far past the point of caring.
He made a detour on his way back to Skye Lodge, finding refuge from the rain underneath a large pillar. There, he had time to think without interruption of all that he had heard.
If Gumshoe was not mistaken, Mr. Edgeworth had purposefully separated them; had gone out of his way, in fact, to take his sister to London where she could no longer in ration sense pursue a relationship with Maya.
Her "situation" was the only unfavourable thing about her. To Maya herself, there could be no objection. She did not have the manners for high society, but her temper and wit were excellent. It had been nothing but pride that had caused Mr. Edgeworth's interference; the worst, most repulsive kind of pride that would cause one to separate a young couple in love.
Phoenix took a moment to catch his breath and collect his racing thoughts, and in doing so he did not notice the approach of another man until it was too late; and Mr. Edgeworth was immediately before him. He was also soaked through, and it was clear that he had been out in the rain for some time, his grey hair plastered against his cheekbones, his suit sticking to his collarbone.
Phoenix was shocked and disgusted to see him, especially in such an unkempt state, but he said not a word. Mr. Edgeworth came towards him in an agitated manner, and immediately began speaking.
"Mr. Wright," said he, "I've... been searching for you for some time now. I came here with the single object of seeing you. I must speak with you."
Phoenix was resolutely silent.
"In vain, I have struggled. Against every rational expectation, every logical fallacy, and even against my better judgement. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. I need to tell you, to get it off my chest. I am asking you now to end my agony.”
Phoenix looked up with earnest confusion. "I don't understand."
"I love you."
The words were said in an excited rush, and for a moment there were meaningless syllables run together like chalk in the rain. Then they snapped into place and became a blow, and Phoenix was left to stare, to wonder, to doubt. He did not say a word, however, and Mr. Edgeworth took a step forward before saying, “please do me the honour of accepting my hand.”
Phoenix’s amazement was beyond expression, but he could not be flattered nor pleased by such an address. It took him several moments to formulate a reply; but after collecting himself, he fixed Mr. Edgeworth with a cold glare and said,
“Sir, I would not wish to willingly cause pain to anyone, and it is unfortunate that I must do so now. But it is unavoidable. I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. But I’m sure the feelings which, as you’ve told me, have hindered your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming it.”
Mr. Edgeworth seemed to catch these words with no less resentment than surprise. His complexion became very pale, and after a few moment’s pause, he said at length, “is your reply?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you - are you laughing at me?”
“No.”
”Are you rejecting me?”
“In every sense of the word,” Phoenix replied with a nod.
Mr. Edgeworth paused a little, then spoke again. “Might I inquire why with so little attempt at civility I am thus repulsed?”
“You certainly may, but I might as well inquire,” replied Phoenix, “why with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your better judgement, against your will, and even against your character.”
Mr. Edgeworth looked startled. “No, believe me, I didn’t-“
“If I was uncivil,” Phoenix continued, “then that is some excuse. But I have other reasons. You know I have.”
“What reasons?”
“Do you think any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who has been the means of ruining, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?”
As he pronounced these words, Mr. Edgeworth changed color; but he listened without interruption as Phoenix spoke on:
“I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. You have been the only means of dividing them from each other, exposing your sister to the censure of the world for caprice and instability, and my sister to its derision for disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind.”
As he spoke, Phoenix noticed, with no small indignation, that Mr. Edgeworth was listening to his words with an air that proved him wholly unmoved by them.
“Do you deny it, Mr. Edgeworth?” Phoenix asked.
With assumed tranquility, the other man replied. “I do not deny it.”
Phoenix was incredulous. “How could you do it?”
“Because I believed your sister to be indifferent.”
“Indifferent?”
"I was at first convinced of Miss Fey's attraction to my sister, but after speaking to her more closely, I've determined that abundant affection is simply in her nature.”
Phoenix gritted his teeth. What kind of backhanded compliment is that? “That doesn’t give you any right to intervene in her personal life.”
“I did it for her own good. To her, I have been kinder than to myself.”
Phoenix snorted. “And I suppose you thought that her fortune had something to do with the whole affair.”
“No, I wouldn’t do your sister the dishonor. Though it was suggested -“
“What was?” Phoenix asked sharply.
“It was made perfectly clear that securing an advantageous marriage was the design of your family.”
“My sister gave no such impression!”
“But your foster mother certainly did, and she seems earnest to take advantage of whatever fortune her children can earn her.”
Phoenix was shocked at this indolence, and even Mr. Edgeworth himself seemed a little ashamed. “Forgive me,” he said, “you and your sister I must exclude from this.”
This conciliation could by no means relieve Phoenix of his anger, and he inclined his head as he asked with great indignation, “and what about Miss Hawthorne?”
There was that same flash of colour in Edgeworth's face - that anger that he'd expressed upon first seeing Dahlia's face in Hertfortshire. Mr. Edgeworth took a step closer to Phoenix. “Miss Hawthorne?” He spat.
“Your character was unfolded to me by the recital I received from her many months ago. On this subject, what can you have to say? In what imaginary act of justice can you here defend yourself?”
“You take an eager interest in the lady’s concerns,” said Mr. Edgeworth in a less tranquil tone.
“Who that knows what her misfortunes have been can help taking an interest in her?”
“Her misfortunes,” Mr. Edgeworth repeated contemptuously. “Yes. Her misfortunes have been very great indeed.”
“And inflicted by you!” Cried Phoenix. “You have exposed her to ruin and ridicule in a matter which she is likely to suffer from for the rest of her life! You ruin her chances, and yet you can treat the mention of her name with sarcasm?”
Mr. Edgeworth drew back, narrowing his eyes. “So this is your opinion of me,” he said in a low voice. “I thank you for explaining so fully. Perhaps these offences might have been overlooked had not your pride been hurt -“
“My pride?”
“- by my honesty in admitting scruples about our relationship,” Mr. Edgeworth concluded with an icy stare. “Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your circumstances? To congratulate myself on the hope of forming a union with a man whose situation in life is so decidedly beneath my own?”
Phoenix felt himself growing angrier every moment, and he struggled to keep his composure as he angrily exclaimed, “those are not the words of a gentleman, Mr. Edgeworth. When I saw you again after all these years, I knew you’d changed. But your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others, and your self-centered motivations for prosecuting - all of these things made me realize that you were the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed upon to marry.”
Mr. Edgeworth said nothing for a moment; he merely stared in wonder, his face a mixture of incredulity and anger. At last, he drew a breath and said quietly, “forgive me, sir, for taking up so much of your time.”
And with one last parting look, he turned and walked away into the rain.