Summary: What would a man do to protect his family, wealth, and business? Marry his daughter off to Birmingham’s most ambitious: Thomas Shelby.
You threw a smile over your shoulder as the two Carrol brothers said their goodbyes and promised to be back tomorrow. You waved and closed the door behind you. Before turning to face your father, you adjusted your dress and put on a straight face.
You took a seat across from him. You pressed the warm cup of tea to your lips. Your father gave you a peculiar look; you smiled at him with your eyes. He folded his newspaper and set it on a silver tray standing by.
“Have fun in the gardens?” He inquired.
You nodded, playing with the hem of the white tablecloth. You were always entertaining neighbors. Where young, single girls lounged about, young, single boys came to seek fun.
“Emma and Jane truly are wonderful company.” You took a bite of a biscuit.
He sat back in his chair,” Yes. Well, we have business to discuss.”
Your brows furrowed. Business was usually left up to him and his board. You couldn’t even pretend to know what this was about.
You remained quiet and let him collect himself. You wondered if someone had died or maybe one of your sisters had had another child you were to be the godmother to.
“You’re going to marry Thomas Shelby.” He stated firmly.
Your head tilted forward. You gave your father a look of disbelief. You expected him to start laughing and reveal his big joke. Instead, he held his good posture and the look of solemnity.
“The hell I am!” You protested.
“You are of age, (Y/N). I’m not waiting for either of the Carrol boys to ask for your hand. Besides, you have a duty to this family.” He took a drink of his tea.
“Is that what you told Cornelia and Victoria when they were getting married?” You glowered.
The dynamic between you changed. It was no longer diplomatic. You watched as your father set the cup down and shift to face you straight on. You knew what was coming next. He wasn’t going to ask you nicely. He wasn’t giving you an option.
Anyway, no one defied Thomas Shelby and lived. Your father wouldn’t be the first.
“Your sisters married in a timely fashion. You’re taking your time. Well, the clock is ticking and it has finally chimed. Thomas will be coming for the party tonight. In fact, it’s been set up as your engagement party. You’ll be married tomorrow.”
You gave an obedient nod in reply. Removing yourself from the table, you exited into the hall. You climbed the stairs feeling as if you were weighted down by lead. You entered your bedroom and sank against the door when it shut.
You always imagined growing old in this house. You never had plans to marry. You would always have companions. There was no need for a husband. The quiet country life of Highbury was all you needed.
Then Thomas Shelby happened. You hadn’t even remembered the last time you’d seen him. Perhaps it was London or it was Cheltenham races. You hadn’t a clue. You only knew that your father and Thomas Shelby had gotten along infamously. You had danced with him. You had been hit on by his brother John and complimented graciously by Arthur. You remembered his stoic, stern features and his ability to hide what he felt. You remembered your sisters being head over heels. He was also the only man who had ever made you feel like you didn’t hold all the cards.
You stripped yourself on your way to the bed and sprawled out. You thought yourself into a deep sleep to which you wouldn’t wake until the maid came to fetch you for dinner. You promised to be down shortly.
You slipped out onto your balcony in your robe to check the weather for the evening. You slid your hands along the smooth stone until you were flattened against it. You smiled as the fresh air filled your lungs. Nothing could compare to this bliss.
“You’re going to catch a cold wearing that.” His voice was smooth and smoky.
Your heart leapt wildly. Your eyes widened. You caught him looking over from the balcony over. He had one hand in his pinstripe pants and the other held a cigarette firmly. You hadn’t expected him to be here already.
You pulled your robes tighter around you feeling terribly naked.
His striking blue eyes took in your bare legs and followed the curves of your body to your face. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.
You hadn’t remembered him looking so handsome.
“You see, the cold already took your voice.”
You scowled. “I can speak just fine thank you.”
A flicker of amusement lit his eyes. He drew a short inhale of his cigarette before ashing it over the side of the balcony.
“As for your concern of my health, I’ll be just fine. I’ve been out here in far less and survived. And if it’s the exposure you’re worried about, you’ll see far more of me when we’re married.” You retorted.
A self-satisfied smirk highlighted his strong cheekbones. “I’m looking forward to it.”
A knock on your door caused you to jump. You closed the balcony doors behind you as you went to answer. It was your mother to fetch you for dinner. She brought you a pale pink dress for dinner and the party. It had an overlay of lace and fringed at the bottom.
She left you to get ready. You freshened up and applied lipstick to your lips. You approved of the reflection in the mirror and left for dinner. All the eyes on you made you a tad uncomfortable, but you held your head high and strode to the empty chair next to your sister.
Thomas regaled a triumph in France and a time before the war. You listened vexed as your sister praised him for his courage. You busied yourself with your food.
“How do you like your room, Thomas?” Your father asked taking a drink of his scotch.
“It’s charming. It has a stunning view.” Thomas watched you over the brim of his glass.
You choked, your spoon clanking against the bowl. Everyone’s eyes were on you. You gave an apologetic smile and took a drink of water.
You stared at him. He smiled back at you. Your family carried on talking about the marriage and the plans for the wedding. You and Thomas drowned them out. A silent conversation ensuing between you. He was so sure of himself. You were no threat and that bothered you. You promised to be a challenge. He wasn’t so easily deterred.
“Where are you thinking of holding the wedding?” Your mother cut in.
“There is a church near the house I bought us that I thought might be nice. I was going to wait to share the news, but I was hoping we could have the reception at the house after the ceremony.” Thomas smiled pleasantly.
You watched him with scrutiny. He was self-assured and charming. You could see why people were entranced. He had sharp cheekbones and striking eyes that stood out from his dark tresses. He was polished and mannered. He didn’t look like a boy from the ash and soot streets of Birmingham.
You slid into self-preservation as the wedding conversation continued. You wanted nothing to do with it. You were relieved when Weston came in to announce the guests were arriving. Your family began to stir from their seats. You were at the door when your father stopped you.
“(Y/N), Thomas will escort you.” He reprimanded subtly.
You waited until Thomas offered you his arm. You took it, gently letting your fingers curl around his arm. He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear,” You look beautiful tonight.”
“I didn’t earlier?” You pressed.
An urbane chuckle sounded from him. You glanced at him catching the beautiful smile he wore. You refused to warm up to him. It wasn’t going to happen. You would allow yourself to think he was handsome.
“Beautiful is only one way to describe how you looked earlier. Other words come to mind though: seductive, wicked, appetizing…” He whispered.
Your lips upturned deviously.
You took your time introducing Thomas. People were surprised and congratulatory. Many wasted no time in expressing their shock that Miss (Y/L/N), would ever get married.
“You’re behaving better than I expected.” He handed you a glass of champagne.
“I was told to move to Hollywood. They said I’d make a brilliant actress.” You took a sip.
A minor twitch in his jaw betrayed the amusement he felt. That and his expressive eyes which were softer than you were used to. He knew he would have his hands full with you. This marriage wasn’t going to be what he expected.
Thomas noticed someone approached from the corner of his eye. It was a burly man with blond hair. He had broad shoulders and soft brown eyes. Thomas noticed your smile become soft and wide. He narrowed his eyes on the stranger.
“Elliot Carrol, I didn’t think you were going to be here tonight.” You took the hand he offered you.
Elliot pressed a kiss to the back.” Miss a (Y/L/N) party? Leland and I could never do that. Besides, we heard the news.” His brow quirked in curiosity.
Thomas pressed a hand to the palm of your back. You released Elliot’s hand and pressed yours to Thomas’s chest.
“This is Thomas Shelby, my fiance.” You swallowed the word. “Tommy,” you crooned,” this is Elliot Carrol.”
Thomas looked down at you and then to Elliot. He shook his hand,” It’s a pleasure, Elliot.”
Elliot nodded,” It truly is. How long have you known our (Y/N/N)?”
Thomas smiled, his hand wrapped around your hip, pulling you into him. “I’ve known her for years. I met my (Y/N/N) when we were teenagers, then again in our twenties, and most recently in London. We’ve a long history. I’ve always known she was going to be mine.”
Elliot’s fists tightened. The two men sized each other up. The tension rose instantly. This wouldn’t be your mess if you weren’t the one getting married.
You laughed to diffuse tension,” Oh, I’m sure that’s not true. I’ve always been such a handful.” You leaned into Thomas and squeezed his shoulder. His hand tightened around your waist possessively.
Elliot smiled at you. You watched him with tender fondness.
“You are a delight, (Y/N).” He watched the band start up over his shoulder. He offered his hand again,” As old friends, may I have this dance?”
You felt Thomas tense beside you. You watched Elliot feeling those old feelings you always had. The Carrol brothers had been your neighbors since you were roughly seventeen. They had been nothing but kind and fun. You spent many days here and there listening to them tell tales and talk of life.
Momentarily, you forgot you were to be married tomorrow.
You took his hand and he whisked you right out of Tommy’s grip. His hands replaced Tommy’s, but they were familiar and warm.
“Just one dance.” You decided mostly for yourself.
Thomas’s jaw clenched. His eyes narrowing on the bumbling oaf and you –his fiancée – dancing with said oaf at your engagement party. Thomas didn’t share. He wasn’t going to share you with any man. He downed the rest of his champagne and watched you carefully.
You laughed, leaning closer to Elliot. He made it easy to be comfortable. He made it easy to have fun. You smiled over his shoulder until you saw Thomas. Everything blurred except for him. He stood crystal clear in a three-piece looking like the grim reaper.
You were inexplicably drawn back to him. Your grip on Elliot’s shoulders weakened. You tried to offer Thomas a smile, but he just watched you. You rested your head on Elliot’s shoulder to hide from him.
The music slowed. You pulled yourself back from Elliot. You felt an overwhelming feeling of guilt. Tommy might have been partially right about your history. You couldn’t stand the thought of marrying him. Or maybe you couldn’t stand the thought of marrying your equal. Elliot went to grab your hand again when Thomas reclaimed it.
“Excuse me, Elliot. I’m going to steal my girl for a dance.” He pulled you into him.
You went willingly. Your arms automatically reaching his shoulders. You stepped into him with ease. His hand flexed possessively on your waist. You leaned your head on his shoulder and focused your eyes on his white dress shirt.
“What is Elliot to you?” He studied the crown moldings of the room and the baroque wallpaper.
Your grip on his hand weakened. He tightened his, reminding you not to let go.
“He’s a neighbor.” You answered softly.
“Is that all?” He pushed.
His hand hooked around your waist, his finger splaying. You closed a nonexistent space between the two of you. Your hand moved farther up toward his neck.
“I won’t share you.” He didn’t skip a beat.
“You won’t have to.” You murmured quietly.
The two of you danced in a tranquil silence. You pondered why you disliked Thomas so badly. He killed people. He was a criminal. One of the first times you met him he had dirt on his nose. You tried so hard to remember why you didn’t want anything to do with him.
“You can’t see Elliot anymore. Or any other man pining after you.” The music died.
You stepped back to look up at him. His eyes were dark. There wasn’t a hint of amusement on his face or a glitter of admiration. His jaw was taught. His lips were pursed. His blue eyes were calculating.
As if dancing could make you forget who you were, you narrowed your eyes.” I’m not just business Thomas. I’m a person. You’re not going to tell me what to do and who I can and can’t see.”
For show, you entertained the room with a curtsy and you walked away. You wanted no part in this. You had been perfectly fine being an old spinster. You were happy to marry off all your nieces and nephews. You weren’t going to have a man tell you what to do.
Thomas caught your arm in the vacant hall. The force jerked you around until you were looking at him.
“You don’t get to walk away from this.”
You tore your arm away,” Watch me.” You turned and marched up the stairs.
He was hot on your heels.
“You’ve been given to me.” His tone hushed.
“I’m a fucking human, Thomas, not a damn mantel piece.” You shot back.
“Would you fucking listen? This marriage wasn’t won in a poker game.”
“Oh no? Was it forged under some blackmail? Maybe some laundering or threats.”
You turned a hard right when you reached the top. You could feel him closing in. He grabbed your hand this time and yanked you to the side. Your back hit the wall. A dull pain reached into your shoulders.
Thomas pressed your waist back and supported himself with one hand on the wall. “You think I would do that?”
“I’m making a good business. I may not have the cleanest hands, (Y/N), but I didn’t force your father’s hands. I didn’t threaten him.”
You held his gaze waiting for some crack in his lies. All you saw was a solemn honesty.
“We’re getting married tomorrow whether you like it or not.” He stepped away from you.
“This is business, Thomas. Just like John and Esme. So, why? Why marry me?”
Thomas looked at you,” Some questions are better left unanswered.”
He began to walk away. You stepped in front of him and put a hand on his chest.
“Don’t you walk away from me! Tell me!”
He lifted your hand,” Go to bed, (Y/N). It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”
You sank back, retracting your hand. You glared at him and stomped to your bedroom. You immediately felt like a child throwing a tantrum. He was so composed and put together. You burned with embarrassment.
You stripped down and put your pajamas on. You sat at your vanity and stared at yourself. It finally hit you that you were going to leave all of this. Tomorrow you would be in a new house with no one but your husband. That, in itself, was the strangest idea.
You brushed through your hair and crawled into bed. You squeezed your eyes shut hoping tomorrow wouldn’t come.
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