❝ If by any chance...in another lifetime, we happen to see each other again, I'll come and find you. And I'll make you fall in love with me, over and over again ❞
In which romance novelist, Mary-Beth under the pen name of Leslie Dupont, writes a coming of age love story based on her favourite gang members in the past, You and Arthur.
Trigger Warnings; Violence | Blood | Angst | Sexual Intentions
A/N: This is a project I've been working on for quite a while. I had the idea in mind when I had the chance to experience the musical composition of Aaron Copland's quintessential American Dream, 'Appalachian Spring' -one of my favourite pieces with such a beautiful storyline. And I wanted to retell it in the form of a book that is available on my Wattpad (ongoing) for you to enjoy from Mary-Beth's POV. I hope you show love to this book as much as I loved writing it. Have a sneak peek at the prologue!
Read on Wattpad here for more chapters to come!
PROLOGUE
Leslie Dupont; Mary-Beth Gaskill
Lemoyne, Saint Denis
November 1907
-
“Mademoiselle Dupont, we expect your next manuscript to be submitted by next summer. Now is not the time to be reminiscing.”
Here we go again
Mary-Beth sighed as her editor, Céline Laurent, had warned her once more for not meeting the deadline to her books. She was in a crucial position in her life. After her debut as a romance novelist, The Lady of The Manor was an instant best-seller across the country. It was the kind of thing she specializes in, silly ol’ romances.
“I promise you, I’ll get it done by then.” Or maybe, at least not for now. She shouldn't have promised something she couldn’t keep, especially in the meantime.
“I’ll take your word for that, if you don’t meet the deadline by then. Y’know what will happen to your contract, Leslie.” Céline stood at the door frame of Mary-Beth’s office with hands on her hips and raised eyebrows.
She knew exactly what she had meant. In fact, she knew the consequences on the back of her head when she first signed that contract with her publishing company. Two more books were requested of her. Or else she would be evicted of her apartment and be forced to live along the streets of Saint Denis for the rest of her life. A life of luxury slipping between her fingers.
“Yes, ma’am,” Mary-Beth disclaimed, the moment her editor slammed the door as she left her office. Heaving yet another exaggerated sigh, she crosses her arms on the grand rosewood desk, flopping her head on top of it. “What am I going to do now…” She murmured into the crevice of her arms.
Mary-Beth was in the middle of a major writer’s block for a few months now. She lost sight of that imaginative space of hers, consisting of the most swoon-worthy romances to the picture-perfect life she portrayed through her characters. A part of Mary-Beth that her readers absolutely adored. But, her head was now a clouded space of everlasting void. It was difficult for Mary-Beth to come into terms of writing again, but she couldn’t quite identify what had put her into this position.
Once she gathered the courage to write again, it all came crashing down like violent tidal waves when she came face to the daunting blank page of nothingness —almost drowning her.
It was as simple as that. Come to work, have a cup of tea, sit down, and a blank page.
Every. Damn. Time.
Maybe it was because she was already nearing her mid-thirties, and she hasn’t found someone to sweep her off her feet. Maybe it was when she first held Tilly’s baby that she found the need to be a mother someday. Maybe it was the overwhelming response towards her writing, she felt the need to hide away into an abyss. Or maybe she couldn’t stop thinking about the time she had come across John again after so many years that the memories just come flooding back.
Or maybe, just, maybe. It was because it’s November.
The most dreaded time of the year. November, in which the seemingly fearsome Van der Linde gang had officially broken up. Guns were fired, ties were broken and deaths were grieved. An unforgettable, painful memory.
She would often think about campfire songs, the girls and, Miss Grimshaw’s constant nagging about undone chores. Oh, how best of friends Céline and Miss Grimshaw would have been if she had heard Mary-Beth had been slacking again. It was her coping mechanism, think more about the good times to get rid of the bad ones.
Mary-Beth remembered when she took in her hands at being a matchmaker. Prancing around the camp, she would eye her two best contenders. You and Arthur.
She knew from the start when you had laid your eyes on each other for the first time, she could see through the inexplicable connection in between. You were both extremely awkward when it came to small-talk or addressing each other as you walked by across camp. However, it never stopped Arthur to come to camp as soon as he could just so he could see you, even just for a second.
The conversation would often start with Arthur while on his way to Dutch’s tent,
“Hey,”
“Hey.”
“I’ll leave you to it then.”
“Yea sure…”
—and that would be it.
At the same time, every single day, at the course of sunset.
You poor socially inept fools.
Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen would always see the interaction happen in the middle of their afternoon chores. Grinning from ear to ear. They would elbow each other whenever there was something different about the correspondence.
One time, you would walk past him, suddenly kissing him on the cheek and scurrying away.
Arthur would stop in his tracks, stunned, with a hand-over where your kiss tingled on his skin. Then he would look back at you as you laid down, smiling to yourself against a tree with a book in your hands. And Dutch would yell his name, knocking him out of his stupor before he noticed he was staring for a little too long.
The girls would start applauding for your heroic performance, it was like a groundbreaking plot twist Mary-Beth couldn’t wait to write about when the idea came into mind.
The both of you were like a walking excruciating slow, slow-burn romance novel. That was when Mary-Beth would cue in her entrance as matchmaker as soon as the interaction slowly died down. Your story had to have a happily ever after in her book.
She would pester you and Arthur separately, mentioning each other’s names and slipping in hints of romantic intentions from the other side so the both of you can address whatever this relationship was.
Mary-Beth knew it was a mission accomplished the night Sean was rescued back to Horseshoe Overlook. When she stood aside of the camp watching Dutch and Molly ballroom dancing into the moonlight, she caught a glimpse of you and Arthur behind them. Running into the woods, hand in hand, giggling to yourselves like prepubescent teenagers.
After that night, it was a considered job well done when your chance encounters slowly turned into planned ones. He would take you on dates, and you would show him affection like nobody’s business. A perfect couple, your American dream.
Until it became a nightmare.
And Arthur had passed,
your Arthur.
Ever since then, Mary-Beth wondered what had happened to you. Were you still alive after all these years? She couldn’t imagine how hard you must be coping with the news. Or what if you didn’t know at all? Even when she asked John and Tilly, they said you disappeared that night he passed.
Not even a single trace. Where were you?
Mary-Beth dismissed the thought out of her head, lifting her head away from the desk. She had to let go of these memories for her own well-being. For what seemed like yesterday were merely years ago. But it couldn’t have hurt to reminisce just a bit, for old times sake.
The story of You and Arthur was unwritten, left to collect dust from the lack of content. The perfect example of a sepia-tinted photograph, forgotten. Mary-Beth believed the both of you deserved something much more than a devastating ending. She wasn’t as ruthless as the other authors she had met that held an iron fist when killing off their characters. Mary-Beth wasn’t like that.
And the idea came to mind. She was a romance novelist for a reason; to fulfil all the possibilities for the unconditional love you shared.
And so Mary-Beth picked up her beautiful fountain pen,
She began to write on the great desk in her quiet room.
An Unexpected Encounter (Arthur Morgan x Female Reader)
After receiving an invitation to the mayor's Gala party, you encounter the one person you despise the most, Arthur. Just when you thought your rivalry would get any more infuriating, he comes along and one thing leads into another or maybe even into something more...
“Fuck it.”
Word count: 3.1k
Warnings: Minor spoilers of 'The Gilded Cage' Mission, Vulgarities, Alcohol, Guns, Violence, and Sexual intentions
A/N: Honestly, I didn't know where I was going with this. It's been quite a while since I've written. While playing through this mission, I was thinking of an enemies-to-lovers type of banter with the whole glitz and glamour of the situation. I hope you enjoy it or maybe not...
The grand music by the string quartet swelled into the elegant ambiance of the evening. With Saint Denis’ high society gathered together into one establishment, being invited into these types of conventions was a rare opportunity. You managed to get in the mayor’s party through close connections within the city. It was a chance to get your hands on valued pickpockets from pompous rich people; away from the hassle of collecting useless bounties.
The mansion was rather extravagant as you entered; unique architecture and expensive pieces of artwork looking out into the outskirts of the city. The scent of liquor, cigars, and the deep aquatic plants of the Bayou was intoxicating.
Defying all the odds of 1899 fashion, you wore a dress that had a slit on the slide of your right thigh that was high enough to hide the spare gun that you managed to sneak in despite having to surrender the rest of your weaponry at the entrance.
The mayor’s servants eyed you closely when you laid out your revolvers in front of them, since it was apparently absurd to witness a woman carrying such hefty guns. Winking at them as you moved away, you scowled under your breath at their suspicion and avoid being further searched. It was your only option of protection in case a fiasco had broken out in the middle of your pickpocket adventure.
Conversations started to tune out the music in the background, the heads of married men turned towards your direction as you made your way through the party, striding with utter grace and elegance to catch the eyes of your potential suitors to steal from.
Grimaced expressions were coated on the faces of the women while examining your revealing choice of clothing. You stood beside the refreshments, holding a free glass of champagne, as you glanced at the group of women engrossed in conversation regarding the lady that came into the establishment. You.
Raising your eyebrow as you sipped on the champagne, you gave them a firm nod headed their way, causing the litter of southern belles to widen their eyes at your acknowledgment and quickly disperse from their conversation. Real smooth.
It was the kind of attention you had gotten used to. After all, being the only woman bounty hunter in the city wasn’t normal in the present day’s context. Opting for a more reckless and freer lifestyle gave you a sense of adrenaline; to escape every expectation of conservative American society. You felt entitled to be who you are and wanted to be. A free woman. You started making a name for yourself in this city, bounty after bounty until one particular man decided to show up and defeated all your means of survival on the jobs you took on...
Arthur
The sound of his name left a sour taste in your mouth. He was the reason why it started to get progressively difficult collecting bounties. When you showed up for a $100 bounty for the leader of the Lemoyne Raiders, Lindsey Wofford at the abandoned fort, that is how you met Arthur. You were outnumbered. Deciding to team up with him, was the last thing you should’ve done. He was charming at first, but then came the point when he handed over Lindsey’s body to the police, betraying your efforts to help attain the bounty as he kept the prize to himself. So much for being handsome.
The moment bounty posters were displayed, it became a competition to get to them first. He would capture or kill them before you did. The feeling of immense frustration struck you as he flashed that lazy, crooked smirk of his. Arthur tipped his hat to you while collecting his reward for the day.
“Asshole.” You muttered under your breath, unable to contain the urge to lunge at him for beating you to it. The glimmer in his eye resembled the commencing of his mockery towards you.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Princess.” His eyes shined with amusement along with that stupid grin of his slowly widening at your reaction. Oh, he is so not going to see the light of day any time soon.
Your anger was at its peak, ready to set off and wipe that smug expression off his face. You couldn’t let him have this, not this time. Within a blink of an eye, you reached for your pistol and aimed it at Arthur’s head with ease.
“You take that back.” His face slowly turned south as his grin disappears upon my demand. I thought so, too.
“Woah, Woah, young lady. Put the gun down,” The policeman warned as he stood with his hand out to coax you into dropping my line of fire and from blowing Arthur’s brains out in front of him.
Ignoring the warning, you focused on Arthur, waiting for his apology. After a long pause of silence, his face slowly distorts, as if he can’t control the outburst of emotions flowing within him.
He’s
He’s laughing?
Your eyebrows furrowed even further as he slowly bends his arms onto his knees as blurts of laughter simultaneously start to escape his mouth. The policeman was surprised at the sudden change of atmosphere, as he stares at Arthur like a madman. He walks away, shaking his head as he retorts lowly, “I don’t get paid enough for this job”.
Rolling your eyes, you were annoyed at the fact Arthur doesn’t take you seriously. Even as your rival, it was unbelievably childish of him to do so. He continued to wheeze as if I’m the biggest joke in the whole wide world. “Ha ha. Very funny, Arthur”
A small smile crept up your mouth as you lowered your aim of fire and place it back into the holster at the round of your hip. You had to admit, he had one of the most contagious laughs you have ever heard, but that doesn’t mean you should lose your guard against the one person you despise the most. In defeat, you left the police station before he had anything else to say to mask yourself in humiliation.
“This changes nothing, I’m still going to beat you.”
-
A few glasses of champagne and pickpockets later, you managed to get your hands on some gold rings, silver-plated watches, and money off drunkards that made their way to you. They were easily wrapped around your finger to steal behind their back. The men surrounded the area as they unwind into the evening with very little knowledge, of what’s coming to them. You secretly stashed the contents of your pickpockets into your purse while walking away from endless conversations about politics and the weather.
Getting bored by the events occurring before you, in the corner of your eye you spot the mayor; Henri Lemieux by the fountain.
Hoping to make a name for yourself in this city —and probably pickpocket him, you make your way to his location. With elongated and purposeful sashays, you stopped in your tracks when you heard footsteps following behind you.
“Hey, little troublemaker.” His voice resonated through you.
Within a split second, you knew that warm, gruff voice anywhere. Frozen in your tracks, you closed your eyes and mentally cursed to yourself as you just got caught red-handed.
In front of you was your shadow cascading on the brick flooring of the garden as Arthur’s tall and burly figure enveloped yours under the dim moonlight. He was directly behind your back, just barely touching the exposed skin of your shoulders. You could feel the warm heat radiating off of him, making you shudder.
Slowly turning around to acknowledge his presence, composing yourself with utmost annoyance to resist the intoxicating proximity in between.
"Oh, it's you." He chuckled at your sarcastic remark as you admired his ravishing appearance. He donned a well-fitted Tux that hugged his biceps perfectly, along with the slicked-back hair from the usage of pomade to style it.
The view of him was a refreshing sight. Seeing him in such a way, despite the usual boyishly rugged blue shirt of his, that shaped his figure well tingled on your skin. He smelled of musk and wildflowers. The scent caused an involuntary sigh out of you before you could realize what you had just done.
"It's nice to see you." Slightly grinning, he stared at you closely. Holding eye contact as he took in the sight of your appearance. Before you stared at each other longer than the both of you had anticipated, fireworks had burst in swirls up in the sky. It caught the attention of guests as they watch the beautiful night sky be painted with streaks of vibrant colors. Comments of amazement filled the air.
Shifting your gaze back to Arthur, you felt like your heart had stopped for a mere second. What?
Arthur had already been staring at you, and your face started to slightly warm at the realization. As if on cue, at the side of the fountain was the mayor and his servant, quietly arguing. You eavesdrop only to hear the contents of the discussion 'Cornwall' and 'horse's ass'. Bingo. You knew anything that had to do with the wealthy man was a big deal to make out of. And definitely would come with something worthy to steal.
As the servant departs away from the mayor, Arthur was already making his way towards him to find out more information. Oh no, you don't.
You follow behind discreetly with the same intention before he finds something more useful than the already invaluable pickpockets in your purse.
Making way back through to the entrance of the Mansion, Arthur makes his way upstairs to the staircase leading towards the mayor's office, as you follow shortly after.
He enters the office quietly as he jams to open the locked drawer with a letter opener on the table. Slowly, you make your way to lean against the door frame, crossing your right leg over the left one to increase the view that revealed your exposed skin with a revolver strapped to your thigh. Preparing to display your disapproval of his actions, you fold your arms as he voices out the contents of the letter. "Mr. Leviticus Cornwall... Top secret… Extremely confidential. Very interesting."
"Very interesting, huh?" His head quickly turns in my direction upon the sound of my voice. His eyes widen. Gotcha cowboy.
Smiling innocently at his reaction, you slowly tilt your head the opposite way of the door frame, awaiting his response.
He pauses for a while as his gaze reaches your face as it makes its way through the revealed skin and revolver coyly making an appearance to him. Breaking off his stupor, It takes him a few seconds to process your actions as you walk towards him.
“What’s that?” He turns his back to prevent you from have a closer scan of the confidential document. Trying to reach it from out of his hands, he turns in another direction, holding the document up in the air far from your reach.
“Nothing useful,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone as he remains amused at your multiple attempts of stealing it from him. He looks away from you, dodging any suspicious allegations you might get just by narrowing your eyes at him.
“If you’re trying to hide it from me, sure as damn means it’s useful.” You hiss at him to hand it over as you continue trying to get up to his height to retrieve the ‘useless’ document out of his hands. Giving up, you stop your actions as an idea had come to mind. A stupid one.
Removing the revolver off your thigh, you pointed the gun at his foot to threaten him into giving you a glimpse of the contents of the paper regarding Leviticus Cornwall.
“I’d love to see you try,” His deep blue eyes sparkled as he challenged you with delight. Arthur knew you wouldn’t dare to pull the trigger and risk another catastrophe to happen at the mayors’ mansion.
Fireworks outside the window started to quieten down and conversations start to resume back to normal.
The sound of a key unlocking a door from another part of the office fills the room.
You look at Arthur with a slightly panicked facial expression. He folds the document neatly and places it inside the inner breast pocket of his tux as you quickly strap back your gun to the side of your thigh.
Arthur moves swiftly past you and grabbing you by the wrist before both of you get caught.
We make our way through the hallway and down a few steps down the staircase to get as far away from the office as possible. The soft tones of speaking at the end of the stairs traveled just at the rounded corner of the wall, nearing the both of you. Heavy stomps became louder and louder at the top of the staircase. You and Arthur were dead in your tracks, standing in the middle of the staircase, as your only two options of escape were far from reach. It was a dead end. This was a day you would go to jail, the both of you.
“Fuck it.”
And he kisses you. Hungrily and ever so desperately.
Pushing you against the wall as his hand cups the back of your neck bringing you close to him while the other was lowering to grab the exposed leg through the slit of your dress and cling it to the side of his hip. Your heart was beating out of your chest, ringing into your ears. And you were pretty sure he was able to hear it too. Not being able to grasp the situation, your stunned eyes fluttered shut, forgetting the entirety of your surroundings with his lips crashing on yours. Arthur’s lips.
There was no denying your attraction towards Arthur, from his physique to that annoying smirk of his that kept you on edge, it was hard to pay attention to the rivalry the both of you shared. Sometimes neither of you noticed the longing but yet despising looks you and Arthur exchanged. You thought you were being delusional, but It always seemed to be so much more. An indescribable magnetic force, pulling and pushing away from each other.
His stubble along the sides of his jaw skimmed the surface of your chin, inviting a light hum to alight from your lips from the contact. It made him smile against your lips, enjoying your compliance with his actions. Unable to resist, you grabbed the ends of his suit into fists, bringing him closer as his hands explored the map of your skin. Just like a predator devouring its prey, you lightly moaned as the warmth of his skin against yours created an inexplicable connection. A grunt escaped his mouth at your reaction to his touch. Kissing you harder, his hand gently slid up the exposed skin of your leg and over your—
"Ahem,"
Breaking off your kiss, a look of disgust was plastered onto the face of the servant, stumbling upon a couple who can't seem to get a room.
Regaining consciousness, you realize the highly scandalous position the both of you were in. You against the wall, arching your back with your hands resting on his heaving chest. You look down, noticing the strap of your dress that had tipped of your shoulder, which revealed your cleavage a bit more than it had already displayed. And his hands, at your waist and up your thigh reaching, Oh. Your face turned bloodshot red.
In a protective stance, Arthur leans forward closer to shield the tantalizing sight of your appearance to the man who had caught both of you at the top of the stairs. Furrowed eyebrows and eyes of infuriation were headed his way.
"Oh, heavens" a group of maids that reached the staircase, quickly shuffled away to busy themselves with other things than going through the second floor of the mansion.
“Pardon me for the intrusion, but this area is strictly out of bounds.”
“Well, I don't see any signs suggesting, so”
The servant raises his eyebrow higher with arms crossed, emphasizing how ridiculous his comment was.
Arthur grumbles, “We’ll be on our way”
The man’s heavy footsteps move past us, giving you privacy to freshen up whatever articles of clothing that was out of place
Hesitant to make eye contact, you observed the bow tie that hung around Arthur’s neck like it was the most interesting thing you had ever seen. You could feel his intense gaze drilling holes into you as his eyes did all the talking. The air was thick, making it hard to breathe as each second passes by. There wasn’t an inch of space left between the both of you, except for the slight distance aching to be met at the lips. His fingers lifted your chin to divert your attention back to him.
You could see the reflection of yourself drowning in the deep seas of his cerulean blue eyes. His gaze lowers down to the swell of your lips. Momentarily, time stops moving, it was the climax of something different. Something exciting, that the hatred you had spent building up for him was collapsing. Something you couldn't quite pinpoint.
There’s a gravitational pull pulling us closer and closer…
The basis of physics was no match for the two of you.
Lips barely grazing onto yours as light music soars in the background,
“Arthur!”
He stops, painfully closing his eyes to the familiar voice that constantly put him to work.
The tension breaks like a gunshot piercing through the air, pulling you out of your daze and back into reality.
What the fuck just happened?
Arthur groans and smothers his face into the crevice of your neck. His arms tightening around your waist, holding for dear life like you were going to slip away from his fingers. Gibberish left his mouth, whining like a child being awoken from his slumber, as the voice that yelled for him gets louder.
You couldn't handle the position you were in, he was so close to you. Your heart could burst any time soon from his touch. It was nothing you had ever imagined with him, nothing you had ever experienced before. This feeling was new.
“I have to go” her murmurs barely under a whisper, only for you to hear. Arthur lightly kisses the skin of your shoulder to signal his departure. The sensation tingles as he separates away from you.
The initial distance that was so close between the both of you was now a little too far away for your liking. Leaving you at the staircase, he looks back at you.
Our eyes meet, and it’s only the two of us, and from this point onwards, everything changes, and you find yourself longing after his lips.
