Chapter Text
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife, or so Jane Austen says. However, as she stands in the middle of the ballroom, surrounded by wealthy young men who are decades older than her and sit without a wife…Lexi begins to wonder if the wise words are untrue.
It’s the first ball of the season, and the debutantes flock to every corner of the ballroom. Each young lady dawns a beautiful white dress, expertly curled and styled hair, and a mental checklist of everything they need to secure a husband this season in London:
- Obtain a respectable hobby (Lexi’s is writing poetry, Cassie’s is the pianoforte).
- Complete a thorough education of the monastery, romantic languages, and literature (Lexi has well surpassed this requirement).
- Carry out an amiable disposition at all times (an easy feat for Lexi and Cassie).
- Come from a well-known family and be properly integrated into society (Suze has done her best…)
- Avoid any and all scandals.
Number five is where Lexi finds herself in real trouble. Though it was many years ago, Lexi hopes that the past antics of her father will not hinder her ability to find a husband.
She watches as her sister charms a group of handsome young men across the room. They all bear smiles on their faces, twinkling eyes, and a very obvious interest in the older Howard sister. Truth be told, Lexi has always been a little jealous of Cassie’s beauty, of her confidence, and her grace. She’d received her first courter when she was only fourteen years old, but their mother refused to allow Cassie to marry so young, and since Cassie has been careful with whom she chooses to entertain.
Lexi has not had a single courter in the twenty years of her life, and though it is rather common, she feels a bit behind from the rest of her age group. Some of the girls she had grown up with have been married for years already, something Lexi could not imagine for herself. So, she is content with merely observing for a while, but a hand touches her arm and pulls her from her trance.
“Lexi,” Maddy’s voice says into her ear. “You are not going to stand in this spot all night, are you? We’ve brought you to London for a reason! Remember, this season is our time to shine.” Lexi smiles affectionately at her cousin. Madeleine Perez has always been a force to be reckoned with, and she has only made her bolder. Lexi remembers when they were schoolgirls: Maddy yelling at the boys around them to be quiet and always telling Lexi to hold her head up straight. They’d had the same conversation about an hour earlier, when Lexi had felt nervous before walking into the ball. Maddy was much closer with Cassie, but she has always looked out for Lexi like she was her own little sister.
It’s why, Lexi believes, Maddy seems to think it important that all three of them are married by the end of this season. She’d invited her cousins and their mother to stay with her for the first several weeks of spring at the Perez home in the heart of London, and the Howard women are eternally grateful for her kindness. The pressure is on this season, and Lexi feels it’s getting the best of her already.
And it’s only been a few hours.
“I truly am trying, Maddy,” Lexi says. “But I feel so out of place amongst such beautiful and confident young girls. Not one gentleman has come to greet me yet.”
Maddy stares at her a long moment, her expression unreadable, and then she pulls Lexi along quickly. “If they are too stupid to come to you, dear cousin, then we must go to them.” The two weave in and out of the crowds of people. Music cascades onto the crowd from the small orchestra on the balcony, the vibrato of the violin echoing across the large domed ceiling, filling Lexi’s ears with sounds other than that of her own heartbeat.
Lexi stares straight ahead, though her wandering eyes capture a fleeting glance of Cassie dancing with a young man. And then, of Rue. Lexi’s heartbeat picks up, now to be felt in both her hands and her ears, and she ponders over whether or not to talk to her long lost friend.
She decides against it.
Maddy leads her to a small group of quieter gentlemen and plants the two of them just within earshot. Of course, within minutes two of the boys have approached them and are bowing. Lexi attempts to listen to their names, pretends like she’s interested in their conversation, but her mind is stuck on Rue. She’s chatting animatedly with the host of the ball—Juliet Vaughn, who’s just moved to London with her father—and appears to be rather starstruck. The sight makes Lexi’s chest ache. It’s easy to miss someone when they are not around, but sharing a close proximity is much, much harder.
“Alexis.” Lexi hears her given name and turns sharply toward Maddy, just now realizing that they are left alone again.
“I’m so sorry—,” Lexi starts, but Maddy cuts her off.
“If you desire to have men approach you Lexi then you must appear interested when they finally do. You cannot ignore them and expect them to do all the work!” Maddy sighs frustratedly and Lexi feels ill. She knows Maddy has the best intentions.
“I’ll make it up to you. I promise,” Lexi says. Something catches Maddy’s eye across the room and she nods slowly.
“Oh, yes you will.” Her tone is conniving, a frequent adjective to describe Maddy, and Lexi groans internally. She follows Maddy’s eyes to the tallest gentleman in the room, Nathaniel Jacobs. He is not of any royal or political standing, but he does come from an extremely wealthy family. He is also, Lexi hates to admit, ridiculously handsome.
Maddy mutters something about a new course of action and disappears into the crowd, leaving Lexi to her own devices once again. She continues on with her previous activity: observing. Her eyes search for Rue but come up empty. This is typically how a ball goes for Lexi. She arrives with the Perez’s and her mother and Cassie, and then spends the rest of the evening alone until one or two stray suitors come to ask her to dance, none of which she ever finds particularly interesting, therefore pays little attention to. She drives her mother mad, but Lexi cannot fathom the idea of marrying a stale personality of a man just to secure her own future.
A few moments surpass with no interaction, until suddenly a familiar face comes into Lexi’s line of vision.
“Alexis Howard!” The voice calls, and Lexi quickly realizes that it’s Mrs. Bennett, Rue’s mother, and she feels the heat on her cheeks grow hotter. She envelopes Lexi in a tight hug then promptly pulls away. “My, my. You have grown into such a beautiful young lady. How are you, my dear? It has been far too long.”
“Mrs. Bennett,” Lexi starts. “What a pleasure to see—.” Her sentence is cut short by the arrival of a gentleman who approaches Mrs. Bennett quickly.
“Apologies, Mrs. Bennett, but it appears that Gia has fallen ill…” The man trails off when he lays eyes on Lexi, and she recognizes him immediately. Fezco O’Neill, the viscount—Lord O’Neill, as she’d called them when they were children.
“Lord O’Neill, you remember Miss Howard, do you not?” Mrs. Bennett says. He nods slowly and bows, his eyes never leaving Lexi’s, and after a staggering moment she curtsies lightly. How many years have passed she’s seen him last? Surely over a decade…perhaps even fifteen years.
“Of course,” he says, his voice gruff. “You are friends with Ruby Bennett, correct?”
“Yes,” Lexi says. “We were school children together.” She feels a blush creep up her neck and tries to break eye contact, but finds it an incredibly difficult task. “My apologies, I don’t know why I said that…”
“No worries, Miss Howard. One meets their friends in all sorts of strange circumstances, do they not?” His bright blue eyes are twinkling, and Lexi finds his kind words refreshing. She continues to stare at him a moment longer, attempting to count the freckles that rest above the red beard, until he turns his attention back to Mrs. Bennett.
Their conversation loses priority in Lexi’s consciousness as she lays eyes on Rue once again. She quickly excuses herself and makes way across the room, only to be stopped by her sister halfway through.
“Lexi,” Cassie giggles while she links their arms together. “Isn’t this the most magical night? I have danced with three men already, and each of them requested another dance! And I saw you talking to Lord O’Neill. My, has he grown into a fine young man…” Lexi cannot help but agree with her older sister. She scans the room for him once again, thinking that perhaps she would enjoy dancing with the viscount tonight.
His eyes had been positively entrancing, and she quite liked the way he’d spoken to her, like her words are just as important as anyone else’s in the room. A rare trait in an English man, she must acknowledge.
The music swells into a fast paced song, the dancers flying around in circles and laughing and smiling. Lexi loves to watch people dance, she thinks they look their most youthful. Though she is not too fond of dancing herself. But there are rules she must follow: if a man asks for a dance, she is not to turn him down.
Her train of thought seems to betray her, suddenly revealing a young gentleman with a most displeasing aura, and Lexi internally groans.
“Miss Howard; Miss Howard,” he says, a bow for each of them. “It’s a pleasure seeing you both here.” Lexi tightens her grip on Cassie, faking a tight-lipped smile.
“The pleasure is all ours,” she says with a slight bow. “Mr….”
The man before her seems displeased with her lack of knowledge regarding his name, and Cassie attempts to hide a snicker. Lexi elbows her hard.
“Lord Conolly,” he finally says, and Lexi raises her eyebrows, feigning recognition.
“Oh, yes…of course.”
“Would you care for a dance, Miss Howard?” For the first time in Lexi’s life, she wishes a man’s affections were directed only and solely to Cassie, but unfortunately, Lord Conolly is looking right at her, hand extended.
“Um,” Lexi stammers, searching her brain for any excuse she can muster. “Uh…”
“I apologize, Lord Conolly, but it appears Miss Howard has already promised this next dance to me.” Lexi turns quickly to see a boy who is a little younger than her, probably no older than sixteen, with a faint circular scar under his right eye. In an instant, Lexi decides that this young boy is far better than Lord Conolly, and she accepts his hand with earnest gratitude.
“Yes, my apologies indeed, Lord Conolly,” she says quickly, and she is whisked away by the boy.
He guides them to the center of the dance floor and they bow before beginning their waltz, an upbeat tune that Lexi quite enjoys.
“Thank you for saving me…Mr…?” She finds herself inquiring a name for the second time that night.
“Ashton O’Neill,” he says, voice monotone, and Lexi looks at him with wide eyes.
“Your brother is Lord Fezco O’Neill, is he not?” Lexi asks. A sudden twinkle appears in Mr. O’Neill’s eye. She thinks she even sees a hint of a smile.
“Indeed he is.” He spins her easily and they make their way down the line of dancers. “I thought your name sounded familiar. The Bennetts and my grandmother were discussing you and your sister at dinner last night.” Lexi’s heartbeat is in her ears. Lord O’Neill and Rue were talking about her? “And you did me a favor as well. My grandmother says I must dance with two ladies tonight, and after we are finished my mission is complete.” Lexi laughs.
“So you are using me?” She teases. Mr. O’Neill mimics her playful manner.
“If you would prefer to dance with Lord Creepy I shall fetch him…” He makes a move to leave the dancefloor and Lexi reels him back in.
“That’s entirely unnecessary, Mr. O’Neill. I much prefer the company of a more…respectable young man.” He gives her another small smile and Lexi finds herself thrilled. She had heard once that the O’Neills had multiplied in numbers, but she had never seen the younger sibling of her childhood friend. Ashton O’Neill is hardly who she suspected. He looks far different from his supposed brother, and speaks much less eloquently than that of an average English gentleman. Regardless, Lexi finds his boyish charm endearing, and she is quite disappointed when their dance ends so soon.
“A pleasure, Miss Howard,” Mr. O’Neill says as they bow to the final chord of the song.
“The pleasure is all mine,” she says. The two of them leave the dance floor separately, though Lexi watches as he approaches an older woman–his grandmother, who looks just as stunning as she did fifteen years ago–with a cheeky smile. He then points over at Lexi, and the sudden eye contact with the viscountess has her feeling rather nervous.
“She may look scary,” an English accent says from behind her, “but she truly is harmless.” Lord O’Neill steps into her view, his blue eyes capturing her attention immediately for the second time that evening. Lexi feels a little light-headed by his presence, mildly alarmed at the physical effect he seems to have on her. It’s unfamiliar territory for Lexi.
He stands by her side, hands behind his back, and they observe his grandmother and brother as they chat animatedly. Lord O’Neill has a rather grounding presence, Lexi observes, and she finds quickly that she enjoys it much like she had as a child. She recalls one evening, when Rue’s mother was pregnant with Gia and experiencing insurmountable amounts of pain, Lord O’Neill had comforted her and Rue, telling them everything would be okay.
And here they are now, adults in society, and he still makes her feel the same way.
“Perhaps scary is not the most perfect adjective…but alas, I do not disagree,” Lexi says with a grin. Lord O’Neill looks down at her.
“I hope that you and your family are having a pleasant start to the season,” he says, and Lexi scrunches up her nose.
“I suppose…like my mother always says: what are rocks and mountains when compared to a husband? ” As soon as the words slip from her mouth Lexi regrets them. Make a sarcastic comment about marriage in front of a suitor…positively genius , she thinks to herself. But Lord O’Neill seems to take her words lightly, his eyes crinkling when he smiles.
“Pardon me, Miss Howard, but it is very rare to hear a young lady give her opinion so…ferociously.” Lexi blushes.
“Well I suppose that if a young lady is expected to remain docile at all times that she should find creative ways to insert her thoughts.” Again, her words earn a smile.
“A harsh sentence said in a pretty manner seems much less harsh, does it not?” Lord O’Neill asks. Lexi nods as they stare at another. “You are fearless, Miss Howard. Truly inspirational.”
Time suspends between them, and Lexi wonders if perhaps this season will be a magical one after all.
~
Fez spends his night merely observing the crowd among him. He dances with two ladies, neither of which he finds particularly interesting, and decides that he will save his final dance for later. It is an unspoken rule for Fez, that he dances no more than three times a night, and there is no reason for him to break such a rule this evening.
Fez’s anxious thoughts are interrupted by the sight of her, of Alexis Howard…Lexi, as he had once called her when they were children. He smiles a bit at the memory of her smacking his shoulder, “ That’s Miss Howard to you, Lord O’Neill ,” she would scold him. He quite liked to tease her, enjoying the blush that his using her given name would elicit.
Much like he had thought at his first glance of her this evening, Lexi is stunning. She had clearly outgrown the tomboyish demeanor of her childhood and has grown to be a beautiful young woman. He had wanted to tell her how lovely she looked the second he saw her, but she continues to leave him stunned with her words. Her pleasant and respectable aura are met with a rather spitting tongue, but Fez would be lying if he said he didn’t find her small acts of rebellion charming. She had left him again, after he called her fearless, called by her sister and cousin to discuss potential suitors, he presumes.
“There is much potential in this room,” Fez’s grandmother says, coming to stand beside him. Fez nods silently, continuing his observation of Rue and Ash on the dance floor. “Your brother accomplished his mission rather swiftly. He has requested he return home with Gia and Mrs. Bennett.” Fez chuckles to himself, remembering their conversation from the carriage.
“ You must dance with two ladies tonight, Ashton ,” their grandmother had said. Ash rolled his eyes.
“ I am only sixteen ,” he’d said. “ I am in no position to take a wife —,”
“ Which is why you will start practicing now ,” Marie said, and there’s a finality to it that makes Ash purse his lips. “ You are quite fond of Miss Gia, are you not? Ask her to dance .” Fez could practically see the steam rolling out of Ash’s ears, but he had done exactly what their grandmother asked of him. He danced with Gia, and then with Lexi.
“Hmm,” Fez says in the present. “How many years do you think until he finally realizes that he is in love with that young lady?” Marie smiles, a rarity it seems to Fez, and he cherishes the moment. His grandmother has always been so serious, but Fez knows why. She is a woman in a man’s world, and there is not a moment that Marie is awake that she is not fighting for her authority.
“Perhaps as many years as it will take for you to stop taking my foolish words verbatim.” Fez wishes he could roll his eyes, but he’d never do his grandmother the disservice. Instead, he tries to ignore her. Yes, he should probably let go of the forlorn advice she’d offered him many years ago, but for some reason he could not. “ Love is the one instinct you cannot trust ,” she’d said to him. She has since tried to admit the dramatic flare of words were nothing more than a weak moment. A crack in her steady demeanor. However, Fez doesn’t think she understands that though her words solidified what he had been feeling all his life, it was the actions of those around him that had sparked the idea in the first place.
“Perhaps indeed,” he says. They stand in silence for several more moments before Marie recognizes someone across the room, and she is gone.
Fez strolls across the room to fetch a drink, and he bumps into Lexi again. It appears to be the running theme of the night.
“My lord,” she says. “My apologies, I was not paying attention to my step…” She trails off, her large brown eyes staring up at him. Something about her makes Fez’s chest constrict, and he admits that it’s rather frustrating to have such a visceral reaction to someone like this. Though there have been many opportunities, Fez never indulged himself in the pleasures of a woman, feeling as though it would be disrespectful to whomever he would one day call his wife.
Now, though, looking down at his childhood friend in front of him, he thinks he finally understands the temptation.
“Miss Howard, lovely to see you again. I was starting to miss you.” She blushes.
“Oh, please,” she says dismissively. “I hardly believe that.”
“Are you always this self deprecating, Miss Howard?” She looks at him, bewildered, and he thinks perhaps he has pushed a bit too far. But he wants to know: how did such a confident young child grow into such a self conscious young lady? He’s sure it’s connected to her father—he’d heard all the rumors years ago—but that is hardly a topic they should be discussing in public, let alone a ball.
“I…I never really thought much of it, truth be told,” she says. Fez notices her gaze flicker away from him, and when he follows it he finds Rue and Mr. Fitzgerald, Elliot, Fez thinks is his first name. Lexi appears distressed at the sight of their old friend, and Fez decides that though it may be none of his business, he would ask anyway.
“How long has it been?” She gives him a quizzical look, so he elaborates, “since you’ve spoken to Rue.”
Lexi sighs. “A long time. I never truly realized how much I missed her until I saw her again, but…let bygones be bygones, or so they say.” A weak smile spreads across her face, and Fez’s arm is moving before he can even register, like he was drawn to ask her.
“Will you do me the honor of dancing with me, Miss Howard?” She stares at him a moment, then her slim fingers slip into his, neither of them wearing gloves, and the contact makes blood rush to his cheeks.
He guides them to the dance floor, they line up across from one another with the rest of the couples. Nobody ever knows what is to play next on the queue, whether it be a lively country tune or a mellow string duet, and Fez holds his breath in anticipation.
The soft twinkle of a pianoforte creeps down from the balcony where the musicians sit, and then a cello strikes a romantically long note, the vibrato echoing in Fez’s brain, and he and Lexi begin to move in sync. He feels a bit of trepidation, knowing this dance is among one of the most intimate that could’ve been played.
Lexi moves lightly, her chest moving up and down, and she gracefully completes each step. Fez had always been indifferent about dancing. He never understood what exactly it was meant to do for him, what it was meant to convey and what was supposed to transpire. Truthfully, he’d always found them a bit awkward and redundant.
“I must admit,” Lexi says as Fez spins her around, “you are a much better dancer than your brother.” Fez chuckles, raising a palm to meet Lexi’s before they break away once more.
“Well, I must admit that you are the best partner I’ve had all night.” His words earn another blush, and Fez decides the rosy color looks cute on her cheeks and he will have to keep it going. His hands are at her waist now, her arms rested lightly atop his shoulders, and they spin in sync with the other couples. Her face is rather close to his, and he can see little green specs in her big brown eyes. It reminds him of the plants in his garden, an emerald green stark against the soft brown of the earth. Grounding…that was a good word to describe Lexi.
They turn out once more, opposite shoulders touching, and their gaze never breaks from one another.
“If only dancing was always this pleasant,” Lexi says.
It could be, Fez thinks to himself, because now it all makes sense. A partner with whom it feels they’ve been dancing their whole lives together makes a monumental difference in the art of dance. Their breathing lined up, their lips mere inches apart, and her scent swimming all around him. It is blissful.
A minute later the song begins to end, and Fez and Lexi resume their spots in the line of dancers, both bowing as the final low notes are drawn out. They exit the dance floor, and before Fez can say anything else he notices Rue across the ballroom, nodding off on a chair.
“Miss Howard,” he says quickly. “I must leave, but I wanted to tell you that dancing with you was the best part of my whole night.”
Her cheeks burn a beautiful red again. He bends to reach for her fingertips, presses a soft kiss to her knuckles, and then he makes his way toward his horribly ill-looking friend.
As he practically carries Rue out of the ballroom he steals one final glance at Lexi, laughing loudly at something her cousin has whispered in her ear, and for a brief moment Fez imagines a world in which Lexi Howard is his wife.
But wishful thinking has never gotten him far, and he doesn’t plan to start now.