Chapter Text
“That insufferable man.”
“That insufferable man has an income of ten thousand pounds a year. At the very least.”
Clara turned her head away and merely huffed at the words of her good friend Rose. “It does not make him more attractive and it does not make me more fortunate if he chose to dance with me tonight.” She retorted.
Rose rolled her eyes. “Clara, you should not forget that many,” here she hesitated and glanced around the room, “ladies would endeavour to dance with him.”
A rough laugh escaped the brunet, low and sarcastic. “Then let them. Oh please, let them and let his eyes pry any other way but mine. He’s giving me chills gawking like that.” As she spoke she turned to meet his gaze. It was there, like she had felt it to be. The cold eyes were transfixed on her and she wondered if he ever blinked. “Ancient eyes piercing me with emotions I dare not think about.” Clara turned back to Rose. “Could you please distract him so I can get out of his vision? Could you not ask him for a dance?”
“Me?” Rose laughed, her pearly white teeth all revealed in the light of the candles. “You forget I am already engaged. The next two dances have been promised to Mr Smith.” She made a point of sitting up straight and flashing a smile at her target who was at the other site of the ballroom. “I could not ask another man for a dance, it would risk too much.”
Clara rolled her eyes with a sigh. She should have known. Rose was fortunate enough to win the attention of Mr Smith – a man earning a wealthy 5 thousand pounds a year. Clara’s mother, of course, had encouraged her to win Mr Smith’s attentions but it became clear rather swiftly that he had eyes for only one. Which had led to the ill-fated predicament she found herself in now.
She was truly happy for Rose but the unfortunate consequence of Rose and Mr Smith falling in love was that she was stuck visiting Mr Smith whenever Rose was. Rose had always been her best friend and she would do anything for her. Mr Smith was kind of okay. He was dressed in a suit but never seemed to wear the appropriate footwear that belonged to his disposition. In short; his shoes defied fashion. He seemed to suffer bad eye-sight whenever things were brought close to him and for this he would use ‘glasses’. His hair was ruffled and his accent made Clara smile.
Unfortunately Mr Smith’s best friend seemed to be this old gent who called himself ‘the Doctor’. Now, Clara had rather thrown herself willingly into the arms of John, a boyish man who insisted on wearing a bow tie, than suffering the attention of the old git. But here she was and there was nothing she could do to change her predicament. The Doctor just happened to have asked her for a dance, and to stare at her for a good quarter of an hour. Clara felt her skin crawl. This was all his doing, she mused, and reached out for her friend to find support.
“I understand, and I do not expect of you to endanger your chances. There’s a lot at stake and I do wish you nothing but happiness.”
Rose smiled even brighter now. “That’s very kind, and I do wish you the same fortune that I am experiencing. But Clara,” all of a sudden she turned serious, “Do be careful with him. We have both met him, seen him, whenever we were at Mr Smith’s manor. The Doctor is an influence. He’s not a force to challenge. Promise me you will be careful and not anger him or wound his pride?”
Clara didn’t know what to say. Behind her she could hear footsteps heading her way. Her mind was a blank and her lips parted in a fruitless attempt to produce sound, but her friend quickly continued in a ramble.
“He is all anger and cantankerousness. He’s mightier than he might look. But then he’s also old and wise. If only you’d look at his eyes. Those sad, sad eyes.” Here Rose faltered and Clara felt bad. The blonde gently squeezed Clara’s hands in her own. “You must promise you’ll be careful around him and that you will not provoke him. Do not tempt him.”
Clara tried to speak up but Rose had shushed her. “Though I do believe he’s good for you, I believe even more that he needs you. And for this he will have to prove himself worthy. He needs to deserve you, Clara. If he cannot do that than I wish for him to be as cold as the marble he looks and to leave you alone.”
Though her lips felt like parchment and she did not know what to say, Clara shifted to the edge of her seat and made a point of looking at the floor rather than her friend. Rose, in the meanwhile, had retracted her hands. “He is an intolerable git.” She muttered.
“Who is?” A deep voice rose from behind her and Clara froze. It felt like ice was in all of her veins and she could hardly turn her head to see none other than the feared subject of her speech.
“Doctor.” She whispered. It took her less than a second to recompose herself and jump up from her seat before flashing him a forced smile. She curtsied quickly and reluctantly.
“I understood as much.” The Doctor replied. His face betrayed little emotion and his words sounded harsh and low- they left Clara wondering for a good full minute about the actual meaning of his reply.
The Doctor nodded curtly to both ladies but paid Rose little to no mind. He did acknowledge her presence, but he had turned to face Clara fully in such a short limit of time that Rose understood the hint and quickly made up an apology before she left.
Clara felt betrayed by her. First Rose tells her that this man is a good match, then she warns her not to ‘tempt’ him, she even called him dangerous and then she just leaves her to her fate? ‘I should find myself a new best friend.’ Clara chided herself inwardly, but managed to outwardly maintain a bittersweet smile.
“Is this your way of telling me you will not delight me with another dance this ball?”
There was a shimmer of something in his eye, though Clara could not discern what it was. She had to force herself to focus not on his eyes but on his eyebrows instead, lest she would be distracted by the sadness she would see in those deep depths.
“I fear it is.” Clara said, but as she spoke she could see the Doctor’s eyes darken and Rose’s warning sounded in her head. She quickly cleared her throat as she tried to think of a nice way to talk her way out of this. In the end she settled for the only thing that came to mind.
“You see, I have promised the next dance to the Captain over there.” She hinted in the direction of Captain Jack Harkness, the self-proclaimed ‘soldier boy’ from out of town. The Doctor did not seem to be pleased hearing this news.
“And after that I fear we will be leaving shortly after. My brother Artie and my sister Angie will really have surpassed their bed-time by then.” So you see, she thought angrily, there really was no need for her mother to try and push her into marrying an old grumpy fart. It wasn’t as if they would lose the house if she didn’t find Mr Right.
“Ah,” Clearly the Doctor wasn’t done with her just yet, “Your beloved siblings.”
Did she just hear sarcasm? She glared at him.
“I will no longer detain you, Miss Oswald.” He made another quick bow before stalking off. The words he left behind had been whispered through clenched teeth. “Until we meet again.” And Clara felt her whole body shiver.
After the encounter with the Doctor, Clara tried to find her mother among the guests, which was rather a challenge. When she found her mother she had to catch her attention first and resolved to jumping and waving about until she finally got the hint and detached herself from the company.
“Yes, what is it?” Ellie Oswald asked her, wondering what on earth could have vexed her daughter so. “Aren’t you enjoying your time here, my dear? Have you seen all of the nice men?”
Clara let out an exasperated cry. “The men here is exactly why I want to leave.” She sulked. “Have you seen the Master? He’s been openly flirting with every other guest. And that Captain Harkness nearly grabbed my bum! And there’s the Doctor who wants to dance with me again and again.”
“The Doctor wants to dance with you?”
Clara stilled and stared at her mother. “He already did.”
“He did?” Her mother’s voice skipped a notch.
“He asked to have a go a second time.”
“My dear, that is wonderful! You must accept. Pray tell me that you accepted his offer?” Clara felt her stomach turn and wondered if her mother was excited like this on purpose. Did she really believe matching the Doctor with her oldest daughter would be a good plan? Clara raised a brow.
“I said no. Once was enough for a lifetime. Mama, I cannot dance with that man.” But her last words were in vain for Ellie Oswald had already reached for her handkerchief and had started crying.
“No? How could you say no? Clara, he’s a fine man. Have you any idea how a refusal could work against us?”
Clara felt oddly sick. “Mama, he’s twice as old as me. Doesn’t the age difference worry you just a little bit? Besides, he’s unpleasant. Ever since he’s been here he’s been silently observing our village. He’s made it a sport to insult all those below his rank. He claims he’s a Doctor yet he never took the time to actually ‘heal’ anyone. He’s bossy and snarky. He has demands that I…” She hesitated and tried her utmost best to get her mother to look her in the eyes and comprehend. “I can’t meet. I don’t want to mama. You said it yourself, a man like him can’t be refused. He is mighty, even Rose warned me for that. But this is my life and mama, we don’t need the money. All we need is love and happiness.”
It was such a tender moment that Clara believed she had gotten to the core of her mother’s being. Ellie was shaking slightly but she had pushed the handkerchief away. They would not hug for it might be thought of as improper, but Ellie’s eyes had softened with understanding and Clara felt a huge relief wash over her.
“We will speak about this tonight.” Her mother said, as sternly as emotions would let her. “How did you manage to refuse?”
Clara bit her lip and turned the other way. “I said I’d promised a dance to him after which we would leave to put Artie and Angie to bed.”
Her mother nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
With one firm push Clara felt herself be brought closer to the captain. Though she did protest her mother would have none of it and discreetly managed to get her in front of the Captain –whom Clara had used as a lie not to dance with the Doctor- until she could not escape his sight any more.
“Well, well, Miss Oswald. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Jack said with a crooked smile.
“Really? I wonder who has spoken to you?”
“Not even curious as to know what it is they said about you?”
“Not in the slightest.”
Jack smirked. “Odd girl.” But he didn’t sound demeaning. Instead, it sounded like he was taking pleasure in this conversation. “Your friend, Amy. Now before you ask, yes… only good things.”
Clara let out a laugh.
A shadow fell over them as behind them the towering figure of the Doctor had appeared. No doubt he was eavesdropping. He had been following Clara’s every move this entire ball and Clara knew he would not just stop watching her because she refused to dance with him. She boldly took a step closer to the captain.
Notes of a new song had started and Clara knew that the dance needed to happen now. “Captain, would you be as kind as to guide me?”
Jack took her hand with a grin and led her to the dance floor. “What made you think I would accept this dance from you?” He whispered and Clara was thankful for that. She had no doubt the Doctor’s hearing was like that of a bat for not only did he look like one, he had caught her several times saying disgraceful things while she visited Mr Smith with her best friend Rose. Somehow the Doctor was always there, snooping around, stalking them- stalking her.
“You seem like a fine man to me.” Clara said with a smug smile. Jack’s eyes twinkled with delight. He saw this as a game, and so did she.
“If that would have been the only reason you’d have come to me sooner.” He gave her the room to spin, then pulled her close again. “I had already promised this dance to Miss Noble. Can you imagine how upset she’ll be to see me dancing with another?”
“Miss Noble will have to wait another round. I’m heading home after this one.” Clara bowed and waited for the music to bring the two of them together again. She tried to block out the feeling and knowledge that at the side of the dance floor the Doctor was observing her every move.
“Miss Oswald, you did not force this dance on me for my looks.” Jack said when he had the chance. Clara couldn’t believe he kept his bright smile on all the while. “You did this to flee from the old man over there.”
“I have no idea what you’re on about.” Clara lied, but Jack let out a laugh and she knew that he had her all figured out.
“The old Doctor. I have heard of him, Miss Oswald. I have even met him before.” It took two swaps of partners before they stood in front of each other and Jack could continue his words.
“I don’t blame you; He’s got quite the reputation.”
“Ten thousand, I know.” Clara huffed.
Jack’s smile fell. “That’s not what I meant. Miss Oswald, this man is dangerous. He’s unlike any other man I’ve met: clever, cunning. But also rage and a force to reckon with. If I were you, Miss Oswald, I’d stay out of his vision. Very far out of his reach. You are a sight to behold and I would dread to think he would conquer you.” The music had ended and Jack bowed as a farewell. “Good night.” Then he was gone.
Clara was left standing on the dance floor, puzzled by the things said to her and tired by the events that had occurred. She only snapped out of her thoughts when her mother came to collect her by the arm and guided her to the coaches.
As Clara entered the carriage she could hear how Mr Smith called the Doctor’s name but she opted not to look behind her. Her mother joined her side and ordered for the doors to be shut and the carriage to ride. She let out a sigh.
“He followed you outside.” Ellie said. “My dear, I fear he has taken a shine to you. If you really do not want it…” She hesitated and slumped on the seat. The night had been tiresome for her as well. “But otherwise I would say give him a chance. He might just be what you need.”
Clara looked angrily at her mother. “You mean, what we need. I do not need a man.”
“We will have this discussion later.” Her mother shushed her. “When your father is present. He would want you to get married, I’m sure.”
“Fine, then I’ll marry someone else. Say: John.”
“The bow-tie boy?” Her mother leant closer to her “Clara, bow-tie John fancies one woman, and he already married her. It is the talk of the town.”
“What?” Clara said in surprise. “John is married?” She silently wondered if he secretly had married Amy.
“Yes, to Melody Pond. Amy’s relative.”
Clara could not believe her ears. “Poor Amy.”
“You see, it would not have worked out. John was a man in love. And might I add, Melody is much older than John. I suppose that is why he was kind to Amy but told her he would not ask her hand in marriage. He was already in love with another. They married two months ago.”
Clara held her head in her hands. “I can’t believe it.”
“Clara,” her mother urged, “They’re happy. And she’s much older than he is, you know.”
At this, Clara glared warningly at her mother. “No. Just no. The Doctor is way too old for me. For pity’s sake, he is older than you are.”
Her mother shrugged. “I will take the compliment. But I just want you to know that his interest might not be such a bad thing. Things might not be so different. ”
“Mama, Melody and John married because of love. Things are different. Besides, the Doctor has not asked my hand. Not yet.”
“Even if he did not,” her mother stubbornly intervened, “he asked you to dance with him. He never has asked anyone to dance before. No, my dear Clara, we are already in too deep. We will have a good night’s rest and tomorrow we will confront your father and see what his thoughts are.”
Clara folded her arms in front of her chest and cursed herself silently.
“I will never marry, mama. I will never marry him.”
The day started out as peaceful for which Clara was grateful. Usually one of her younger siblings would be running around the house but it seemed that having stayed up pass their bed-time had worn them out- another thing for which Clara was grateful.
The girl rubbed her eyes and opened the curtains to watch the sun rise. She had never felt so calm. Too calm. She instinctively knew that this calm was an omen signalling an oncoming storm and she feared that this storm would have the Doctor at the centre of it.
All night she had been troubled with visions of the man. Her dreams had been filled with his scent, his stoic expression, his elegant movements and Rose’s warning words. Rose wanted for the Doctor to prove himself worthy of Clara’s hand in marriage. It sounded like a fairy tale. Only, Rose had left her side and Clara’s mother seemed to be in conflict about the feelings Clara held. Which meant that today she would have the talk with her father and she wondered which side he would take. Would he think it a lucky match like her mother initially claimed? Or would he tell her to be cautious like Rose had told her to.
She groaned and with her hands in her hair she exited her room and made her way to the parlour.
Little did she know that at the same time, at the other end of the town, a gentleman was greeted by another gent.
“You’re up early.” Mr Smith remarked in his Scottish lilt.
“I haven’t slept.” Came the reply by an equally Scottish accented voice. The Doctor rubbed his temples, gently.
“What?” Mr Smith said. He wrinkled his nose as he stared up at the ceiling, mouth agape, before he looked back at his friend.
“I said I did not sleep. Not an hour. Not a blink. Not tonight.”
“Ah, not a blink, that’s good. Very good. Don’t blink. So, what’s been troubling you?” Mr Smith made himself comfortable in front of his friend. But the older one just turned the other way and gave no signs of discussion.
“You know you can talk to me about anything that’s on the brain. You know that, right?” Mr Smith tried again whilst peeling a banana. It was the sort of exotic fruit he loved to have after a party. As he once had proclaimed ‘Bananas are good’.
“Perhaps I should not.” The Doctor kept his eyes averted and his friend sighed.
“Well, you know I can’t help you when you refrain from telling me your secrets, Doctor. But I have known you all my life. Why couldn’t you share this with me?” Before the Doctor could answer- if he even wanted to- Mr Smith had continued while chunks of banana still filled his cheeks. “But if I may hazard a guess I would say the lovely miss Oswald has caught your eye and you are distraught that she refused dancing with you.”
The Doctor made sounds of protest but Mr Smith beat him to it, again. “Na-ah, I do know that look of guilt you carry. Ever since we met The Tylers and the Oswalds you have been stalking her like you were her shadow. You did not try to prevent Miss Tyler from meeting with me which is very unlike you. Usually you would have lectured me on the extent of ‘how far our worlds stand apart’ and that we are ‘different species’ so I would better not acquaint myself with these people so much. You know just as well as I do that Tyler is below my class. You also know that the Tylers and the Oswald’s are both families we should not mingle with. Yet you have not stopped me from seeing Rose, which, unfortunately for you, is the equal of you encouraging me to see her.”
The Doctor kept silent. He did not disagree.
“Coincidentally, I feel, you let this happen because Miss Tyler’s best friend is Miss Oswald and you have taken a shine to her from the first time you clapped eyes on her. Dare to disagree.”
“What if?” The Doctor snarled at him. He felt caught, exposed and vulnerable. “She’s below me. She’s not worthy of my time.”
Mr Smith laughed which made the Doctor look at him in surprise. “I don’t think it that funny.” The Doctor remarked snidely.
“No, It’s just,” Mr Smith said between laughs, “you should have seen your face. I half expected you to say she isn’t in the league for your forsaken fortune.”
“It is not a matter of money, purely.” The Doctor hesitated.
“It should be. It should be a matter of money solely,” His friend replied with a soft, yet cheeky, smile. “Because it cannot be one of looks or demeanour. Miss Oswald is a beauty and she is kind. She is used to good company.” He added that last bit with Rose in mind. “You’re saying this because her family’s income is naught compared to our own. You do not dare pursue her because of status. I get it. People would talk.” Mr Smith knew he was baiting his friend on purpose, but he felt like it had to be done. The Doctor had been brooding for many months now, ever since they’d come to this town.
The outburst that followed was, however, unexpected and Mr smith reeled back on his chair to look at the Doctor with eyes wide. For the other man had stood up from his chair and had raised his hand in the air, finger pointing to the roof, as he bellowed.
“To hell with class-differences. If I want the girl I’ll have her.”
Mr Smith quickly got up from his seat and placed a hand on each of his friend’s shoulders. “Calm, calm. Of course you can have her, you charming old fox.” He tried to cheer him up, but the words made the Doctor look at him with sad eyes.
“She does not see the joy in me. No wonder, why would she? All she sees is an old sodden man.”
“You’re not old. Well, you’re not that old. Well,” Mr Smith was stuck. He himself wasn’t very young anymore and he knew that his friend was often called ancient by their acquaintances. The Doctor could be joyful, could be dancing, could be making jokes and could have fun. But he needed to be in the right company for that and be given the proper privacy for it. But Mr Smith could imagine how a young girl like Clara would feel. To Clara, sweet girl in her early twenties, the Doctor must be at least as old as her father.
That wouldn’t do.
“If anything the money should count.” He said, hoping to give his friend some comfort in the shape of hope.
“We can’t possibly be together, Ten.” The Doctor said, referring to his friend for by his first name. “Not by social standards. Not by money and not by age.”
“Then be together by love.”
The Doctor had to admit that was the cleverest thing said by his friend in a long while.
“Love.” He whispered. “And then she’ll be mine.”
“Love, my dear, is a thing uncommonly found in a man.” Clara rolled her eyes at her father’s statement. “Love happened to me once, I admit as much as that, and had your mother continued to bestow me with the happiness of it I would preach that love is indeed a sensible thing to find. But I can tell from experience that it is not as easy as it all looks.”
“Papa, I don’t care if I find true love or anything of the like.” Clara stressed, eyeing her father wearily. “What I’m trying to say is that I really do not feel the wish to marry anyone at any time. At all.” She added that last bit with a thoughtful expression.
“Well, my dear, it seems we are opposite of one another on this. For you see, if you do not marry what will become of us? What will become of you?”
“I could become a teacher.”
“A governess? Dearest, silliest girl, you can’t do that.”
“Well, it’s a nice dream, papa. But honestly, I do not need marriage. We have Artie. We won’t be homeless. And Angie? She will marry someone above our class, I’m sure. Look at her coy smile and curly hair.”
Her father heaved a sigh. “Even if she grows to be a beauty, who is to say that she will not have inherited the same stubbornness that possesses us both?”
Clara smiled but knew her father was right. If Angie was like her and didn’t feel the need to get married they would all rely on Artie. And what if Artie wanted the house for himself and whichever lady he would have married by then?
“So you see,” her father continued, “this is quite a predicament we find ourselves in.”
“But be honest,” Clara pressed, “would you smile if you knew your daughter had married a man over twice her age?”
“You would have little time to carry a son and secure his wealth, I’m sure.”
Clara cringed. Only her father could make such a wry comment. And she hadn’t even thought of her responsibilities as a wife yet simply because she did not fancy the prospect of it. Her father was right though. If she would become the Doctor’s wife then she would be expected to bear him a child. And since the Doctor was already in his fifties – or something, Clara wasn’t quite sure how old he exactly was. He looked ancient to her- who was to say he would live for very much longer? If she did not produce a son the whole estate would be left to another male relative of his – did he even have any?
She sighed. “This does not bode well.”
“I know, my dear.” Her father sat down and tapped with his fingers nervously on his knee, creating a rhythm.
“All I can say is that the safest option for us all, and for you to secure your happiness, would be to pledge yourself to a man. To marry. And since your interest John is already taken I fear your only other option to scare away any unwanted attention from the Doctor would be to form a match with our cousin: Mr Porridge. He will be arriving here shortly.”
“What?” Clara’s jaw dropped. “Our cousin? But we’ve never even seen him.”
Her father let out a raw laugh. “I know. That’s the beauty of it. Our cousin Porridge will inherit our house once I’m gone.” Here he hesitated, “And once Artie has scampered off.” He coughed. “And since my health has been failing me he thought it was about time he paid us a visit. He wants to grace us with his presence and to show benevolence to our family. He wrote, and I quote: “It would do me great pleasure to meet your lovely daughters and explore the possibilities of forming a union between our families.” Clara, he is very eager to get to know the eldest.” Her father eyed her meaningfully. “That’s you.”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Clara cursed, but was instantly chided by her father.
“Now, none of that.” He said. “I expect you to be at your best when our cousin arrives. You will do what you can to please him. If he really does ask for your hand consider it a gift. It would mean that the old Doctor cannot chase you any longer. Take delight in that.”
Clara puffed and wondered why she didn’t feel very delighted thinking of that.
Cousin Porridge appeared to be quite pleasant and Clara was grateful for that. He was all smiles, kind gestures and deep bows. On top if it all he knew how to charm a lady and made sure to drop compliments and romantic insinuations at every opportunity given. Miraculously, Clara actually felt flattered.
“They have arrived with a dwarf.” The Doctor grumpily commented to his friend. Mr smith turned to look at the Oswalds and smiled brightly at the sight.
“He’s just a bit short for a man. That’s all.” He acknowledged. The Doctor was not so amused.
“Who is he anyway?” He snarled.
Mr Smith eyed his friend. “Apparently he is the Oswald’s cousin: Mr Porridge. He is to inherit the Oswald belongings after their father has passed away.”
“And the son?” The Doctor bitterly said.
“Artie?” Mr Smith sounded surprised. “Well, I suppose he is to inherit the house at first. But since Mr Oswald’s health has been wavering and the boy is still very young of age, I do believe Mr Porridge has seen it his duty to visit the family.”
The Doctor narrowed his eyes as he observed the little man talking and laughing with Miss Oswald. It stung him.
“This ball wasn’t a good idea.” He turned away and made a show of emptying his glass of wine by holding it above one of the decorating plants.
“Awww, come on now.” Mr Smith tried, “You’re just saying it because Miss Oswald isn’t dancing with you.”
“This has nothing to do with Miss Oswald.” The Doctor snarled in his defence. “Or the midget.” He added ruefully.
Mr Smith grinned and it was clear by his expression that he didn’t believe a word his best friend had said. But he didn’t get the chance to discuss the topic any further for at that precise moment Rose came along and nearly bumped into the Doctor. She laughed and apologised.
“You must accept my apologies, kind sir. My friend Martha pushed me. How are you?” She hardly waited for the Doctor to reply before she turned to Mr Smith. “So what do you say? Shall we have this dance?”
Mr Smith made his way to the dance floor with an apologetic look on his face and a careful shrug. The Doctor clicked his tongue and looked the other way. A pained look passed his face.
“Are you not happy to see him dance.” The Doctor didn’t need to look at her to know it was Madame Vastra who had joined him in the corner.
“As happy as a turkey finding its hide plucked the day before Christmas.”
“Come on. He’s always been your best friend. Can’t you at least smile for him.” She pushed.
The Doctor glanced annoyed at the lady. “Did you have matters to discuss with me or have you just come to endear me with your radiant presence.”
Madame Vastra smiled wryly at him. It was no secret that she was after the Doctor’s hand, if only because it was deemed ‘proper’ for a lady of her disposition. Yet at the same time it was no secret that she wasn’t romantically interested in the Doctor either – if the looks she gave her handmaiden indicated something.
“You should smile for him more. Since you’ve come to the country you haven’t smiled as much. I hate to see you grow into a dull bore.”
“This ball was plain wrong.” Was all the Doctor muttered as he shrugged Madame Vastra’s hand from his arm and with a snarl made his way across the floor. He had almost made it to the doors, in a brave attempt to flee, when he was stopped by none other than Mr Porridge.
“Ah, fine sir.” Mr Porridge bowed and – unaware that he was being rude for they had not been properly introduced to one another- started to chat about the lovely interior of Mr Smith’s house. “Such a wonderful place indeed to hold a party. I am most fortunate to find myself invited and to be able to dance with such fine young ladies such as my dear cousin.”
The Doctor didn’t know if this was all fate playing him a cruel trick, but with a groan and a roll of the eyes he had stepped past the tiny man and slammed the doors behind him as he exited dramatically. The party behind them had quieted down and Clara could hear her father mutter something about unfortunate events.
She made her way to Mr Porridge who apologized to those around him and quickly escorted him to a quieter part of the house. Her father followed swift. The dramatic ending to the evening haunted their thoughts on their way home.
Two days after the disastrous ball the Oswalds found themselves awake very early because of Angie having a bad dream. Their servants were still fetching eggs for breakfast when Clara sat with her parents in the parlour.
“So there you have it.” Cried Mrs Oswald. “Mr Smith has announced to leave the country. They have left at dawn directly after the ball. . ”
“Poor Rose will be heartbroken.” Mr Oswald looked at his daughter who had just whispered her concern for her best friend.
“I do wonder if the country folk has scared him away. After all, he is used to big cities, not to silly little towns like ours.” Mr Oswald placed his hands reverently behind his back. “And I do wonder if the behaviour of our cousin might have helped him with the decision to leave.”
“Don’t say such things. “ Mrs Oswald tried to hush her husband. “It was improper but it can be overlooked. Mr Porridge is new to the country and quite possibly new to our manners as well. Besides, he merely exchanged words of interest with the Doctor.”
“The Doctor who is Mr Smith’s best friend and councillor, may I add.” Mr Oswald piped in. “No, I would not be surprised if he was the cause of this decision. That crude man. I don’t like the look of his eyes. Every time he stares at my daughter I feel like he wants to devour her alive. What father could stand such a sight?”
Clara felt like she was going to be sick soon. “Papa, please, I’m in the room. Can’t you discuss this another time.”
“I’m sorry, Clara, but I still feel like this is all his doing.” Her father grumbled something under his breath and turned away. Clara peeked into the adjacent room to see her cousin play with her younger brother and sister. They were still too young for grand events and as a result they were spared the details of Mr Porridge’s humiliation and the Doctor’s leering eyes. In a way they were still so terribly innocent that Clara found it endearing. She let out a sigh.
“Well now, Clara, you have to decide.” Her mother’s words snapped her out her thoughts and back to reality.
“What?” She turned her head to face her mother who was pacing about the room.
“Will you marry Mr Porridge if he asks your hand? I’m sure your father will say it’s a sensible match.”
Clara’s eyes searched for her father’s, and she found him to look at her compassionately.
“It’s still your call, my dear. Choose what’s wise.” He said.
“Now, wait.” Clara pushed herself out of her chair forcefully and backed away from her parents. “He has not even asked me. Aren’t you going a bit ahead of things?”
Her father smirked and her mother shrugged before she spoke out loud. “It is only a matter of time. Cousin Porridge will be staying another five days before he takes his leave. I do except a proposal before the end of day five. I do expect one before the end of the day, even.”
Suddenly feeling constricted, Clara excused herself and rushed out of the room. She hurried past her siblings and made sure not to look at Mr Porridge as she greeted them, then she made her way out of the house.
But still, even in the fresh morning air it felt like her lungs were constricted and breathing was a hard thing to do. She walked as far as she could and dared before she paused to catch her breath. When she did, she noticed she’d almost reached the end of her parents’ property.
“Cursed.” She said through gritted teeth. Her summer dress was too thin for the temperature of an early morning and her shoes were no match for the mud of the road that led to town. As she bent forth to investigate the muddy mess underneath her shoe, she heard mud squelching and knew she was not alone any longer.
When she looked up the Doctor stood in front of her.
And he looked like he was ready to devour her.