On a spectacularly normal sunday, a black orb falls from the sky in the Epping forest.
While examining this curious find Oliver Ogilvy discovers a strange woman in odd clothes and takes her home to keep her out of the hands of the military.
He decides against good reason to shelter her and help her in her quest.
You can read the thread in chronological order here
Last time, Belle and Ogilvy spent the night together, and were walked in on by one of the maids. Here's what happened next
[AO3] - 3,758 words
-
Belle hurried along the corridor, the shawl clasped tightly around her shoulders, ears pricked for the sound of a footstep, the creak of a floorboard. It was still early, and she heaved a sigh of relief when she reached her room without meeting anyone. Closing the door quietly behind herself, she went to wash, stripping off the nightgown and wrapping a robe around herself. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, and paused, turning her head this way and that. Nothing had changed as far as she could see, and yet it seemed that everything had. She could see the corners of her mouth wanting to curve upwards, and she allowed herself a wide, contented grin. Her fortunes had certainly taken a wonderful, if unexpected, turn.
By the time she was dressed and her hair in place, the children were awake, letting themselves into her room while rubbing sleepy eyes and yawning. Alice was behind them, already dressed and still trying to brush her blonde curls into some sort of order.
“I was about to ring for their breakfast,” she said.
“I can do that,” said Belle. “Is anyone else up, do you know?”
“Only the servants, I think.” Alice eyed her curiously. “Are you alright?”
“Perfectly.” She could feel a blush start to rise in her cheeks. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know, you just look…” Alice shrugged, turning away. “Never mind. May I borrow a ribbon? All of mine seem to have disappeared. I think I must have packed them in the trunk rather than my valise but I can’t find them.”
“Of course, help yourself.”
Belle rang the bell, and set about getting the children ready, ensuring that faces were washed and hair brushed. Their breakfast was brought up by a dark-haired maid that Belle didn’t know. The maid seemed to be glancing at her out of the corner of her eye every chance she got, and Belle wanted to sigh. All the servants knew, then.
She focused on getting the children to eat their porridge, stewed prunes and sweet rolls, and Alice chattered about the journey ahead of them, and how much she was looking forward to getting home.
“Papa said we’d be leaving around midday,” she said. “Are you headed out for a walk this morning?”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought.” Belle chewed her lip, glancing around. “Will I have time before breakfast, do you think?”
“It won’t be served until nine-thirty,” said Alice. “You should go. I can sit with the twins.”
“In that case, I might take a turn around the lake,” she said. “I think some fresh air would do me good.”
“You do look a little tired,” observed Alice, eyeing her. “Didn’t you sleep? My bed was ever so comfortable, but perhaps yours wasn’t.”
“No no, it was fine,” said Belle quickly. “I just didn’t sleep all that well. I’m sure I’ll feel better once I’ve taken some exercise.”
She took up her hat, securing it on top of her hair with a pin, and drew on her coat and scarf.
“If I see Papa, I’ll tell him where you’ve gone,” said Alice, and Belle smiled to herself.
“Thank you.”
-
The air outside was crisp and cold as she left the house and took the path to the lake, gravel crunching beneath her feet and the chill from the snow already biting at her feet. She shivered, pushing her chin down into her scarf and quickening her pace as she left the relative shelter of the house and headed down the long avenue of beech trees that led to the lake. A set of footsteps marked the snow in front of her, and the tracks of birds crisscrossed the trail.
The trail turned to the right, and Belle rounded the last of the beech trees, looking down on the lake, its surface frozen in all but a few places and covered with a layer of snow. Brown reeds poked up through the ice, and she heard the cawing of rooks from the oak trees to the east of the lake. The sky was clear, the orange sun rising over the dark veil of bare branches, and a low layer of mist hung over the lake. The trail of footsteps led down to the water’s edge, and Belle broke into a smile as she saw Ogilvy making a slow circuit, picking his way through the snow with his walking cane. He seemed to sense she was there, and turned as she approached, his eyes gleaming with that soft light she loved so much.
“Good morning again,” she said lightly, stepping close to him, and he grinned.
“Miss Marchland,” he said formally, with a tiny bow. “May I say how very well you look?”
“Alice doesn’t think so,” she said dryly. “She said I looked as though I hadn’t slept at all.”
“She always was observant,” he remarked. “Goodness knows what she’d make of my appearance this morning.”
Belle covered her mouth with a gloved hand to hold in a giggle.
“Considering I had so little sleep, I feel quite - refreshed,” she said, and his grin widened.
“In that case, would you walk the rest of the way with me?”
“With pleasure.”
She took his arm, enjoying the excuse to be close to him, and they made their way along the lake shore at a steady pace.
“I’ve missed walking here,” she said. “A circuit of the lake was part of my morning routine when I lived at Furton Grange.”
“It’s a beautiful estate,” he said. “Living in town is convenient in many ways, but I must say I enjoy the peace and quiet of places like this.”
“Would you ever move out of London?” she asked, and he glanced across at her.
“It would have to be a family decision,” he said. “I feel Alice would want to stay there for a few more years. I daresay we’ll need to travel around, in any event.”
“I see.” She pursed her lips. “I think I’m rather looking forward to it. I’ve seen so little of the country since I arrived here.”
He smiled, his eyes gleaming in the early dawn.
“I want to show you everything,” he said softly, and she smiled, ducking her head as she felt her cheeks heat. Really, she had to stop blushing every time he looked at her. He was still staring at her with that tiny smile when she looked up. Belle could feel her heart thump hard at the warmth in his eyes, the look of utter devotion. How had she not seen it before? He held her gaze for a moment longer, and she could feel that pleasant tug low in her belly before he glanced away again.
“Are the children awake?” he asked. Belle nodded.
“I got them dressed. Alice is sitting with them while they have breakfast.”
“She’s a good girl,” he said, and she made a noise of agreement.
“I had some very curious looks from the maid that brought the breakfast,” she said. “I fear everyone downstairs knows how we spent our time last night.”
“Thankfully Lady Ella is a late riser,” he said. “It may mean we can slip away before she finds out.”
Belle giggled.
“Will she be very cross with me, do you think?” she asked, and he laughed.
“No, not at all,” he said. “She’ll be delighted to have been proven right and will want to interfere in the wedding plans.”
“I very much doubt she’d approve of our notion of a small and understated ceremony.”
“Certainly not.”
“Time is of the essence, then.”
He turned to face her, still smiling, and she stepped closer, until they were almost touching. Belle inhaled deeply, pulling the cold air in through her nose, sharp at the back of her throat, and let it out in a sighing plume of white.
“I almost don’t want to leave this place,” she said. “It’s so peaceful. It feels as though you and I are the only two people in existence.”
His hands rose up to cup her cheeks, fingers surprisingly warm in the cold air, and he gently pressed his brow to hers, white breath billowing into the air between them as he exhaled deeply. Belle closed her eyes, nose brushing against his, feeling the brief warmth of his breath against her lips.
“The time will fly once we return home,” he said quietly. “A little over a week, and we shall be together forever.”
“Yes,” she breathed, and he bent his head to kiss her.
She rose up on her toes, hands finding his waist and sliding up his back as the kiss deepened. The harsh caw of a rook startled them, their lips parting, and Belle giggled a little, burying her face in his chest as he kissed the top of her head.
“Perhaps we should head back to the house,” he suggested. “I want to make sure the trunks get onto the carriage in time for us to leave.”
“You really are hoping we can get away before she wakes up, aren’t you?” said Belle, amused, and he pulled a face.
“Would you prefer we had the inevitable conversation here or by letter?” he asked dryly, and she giggled again.
“An excellent point,” she admitted. “Let’s go.”
Ogilvy smiled broadly, and turned on his heel, offering his arm to her once more as they headed back to the house.
They entered the hall together, stamping a little to get the snow from their boots. Ogilvy watched Belle as she did so, cheeks pink with the cold and eyes bright, her breathing a little quicker from their walk. She was so beautiful it made his throat catch, and if Hatter and Ivy had not appeared to take their coats, hats and scarves, he would have been tempted to kiss her again. He was unwinding the soft wool from around his neck when Doc appeared by the staircase, giving him a pointed look and inclining his head in the direction of the drawing room.
“Breakfast smells delicious,” said Belle, making him glance around. “I - ah - I think I might go and see if Alice has come down yet.”
“She’s in the breakfast room,” said Doc. “Our hosts have yet to arise, I fear.”
“I should think they won’t be up this side of noon,” said Ogilvy, and nodded to Belle with a smile. “Please tell Alice we’ll join you shortly.”
Belle sent him a soft-eyed smile, biting her lower lip a little and smoothing her skirts with her hands as she hurried away. He watched her go, well aware he was probably looking like a lovesick fool.
“Shall I bring the trunks down, sir?”
Hatter’s voice made him start, and Doc snorted softly, turning on his heel and heading into the drawing room. Ogilvy turned back to his valet.
“Ah - yes,” he said vaguely. “What time did you arrange the carriage for?”
“Eleven, sir.”
“Good man.” Ogilvy clapped him on the arm. “I’ll make sure we’re ready.”
“Very good, sir.” Hatter hesitated. “I think you should know that there’s been some talk amongst the servants, sir.”
“Has there, indeed?”
“Yes, sir. About you and - and Miss Marchland.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” said Ogilvy impatiently. “As long as they keep that talk within these four walls, I’ll pay it no mind.”
“Yes, sir.” Hatter opened his mouth to speak, appeared to think better of it, and hurried off with the coat looped over his arm.
Ogilvy sighed, staring after him, then headed for the drawing room. Doc was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, looking impatient, and he turned on his toes as Ogilvy closed the door behind him.
“Well?” he demanded. “I mean, I don’t want the details, but my Sight told me to switch rooms last night and there must have been a good reason for it.”
Ogilvy smiled.
“She believes me,” he said. “She accepts it. All of it.”
Doc seemed to sag with a deep, sighing breath, his shoulders slumping.
“Oh, thank the gods!” he whispered. “She came back to us in truth.”
“Yes.” Ogilvy stepped forward, pulling him into a hug and squeezing. “She’s home. She doesn’t remember yet, but she wants to.”
“Then we must find a way,” said Doc, his voice muffled by Ogilvy’s chest.
“We will, I promise.”
“Of course.”
He hugged Ogilvy tight before pulling back, snatching off his glasses and plucking a handkerchief from his pocket to dab at his eyes.
“You told her what the Seer said?” he asked. “The unknown price for her memories?”
“Yes. She said she would think about it.”
Doc nodded, using the handkerchief to polish the lenses of his glasses before putting them back on.
“Good,” he said, his voice wobbling a little. “After all this time - gods, I can scarce believe it!”
“Nor I.” Ogilvy hesitated. “She has Elizabeth Willoughby’s diary.”
Doc stared at him, mouth open.
“She has what?” he breathed.
“I know.” Ogilvy began pacing restlessly. “She found where it was hidden at Willowbrook Grange. She - she had a dream about hiding it there. A memory, I suppose.”
“Well.” Doc shook his head. “Perhaps she’s nearer to waking than we thought. That’s encouraging. What did the diary say?”
“I didn’t read it,” said Ogilvy, stopping his pacing. “It was - somewhat tragic, I believe.”
“I imagine so.” Doc’s face was grave, and he patted Ogilvy’s arm. “Still, if it helped her realise the truth…”
“Yes.” Ogilvy took off his glasses, running his hands over his face with a sigh. “I think that was what convinced her. Elizabeth’s tales, and her own dreams, and things I had said to her… I suppose it’s good that something came from that tragedy.”
“Indeed,” said Doc quietly. “We must be thankful for that, at least.”
“Yes.” Ogilvy put the glasses back on. “I asked her to marry me, by the way. She said yes.”
“Hmm.” Doc sounded amused. “That was short work.”
“I could hardly not under the circumstances!” he retorted. “She spent the night in my bed!”
“Yes, well, we don’t need to go into the details,” said Doc hastily. “Have you mentioned anything to Alice yet?”
“No. I thought I’d talk to Alice on the train,” he said. “The servants know. One of them walked in on us this morning to light the fire. I believe Hatter heard them talking.”
“Is Belle aware?”
“Yes. She says it won’t go beyond the house. Ella will see to that.”
”As long as it doesn’t,” said Doc. “I’d hate for Belle to suffer.”
“We’re marrying as quickly as I can arrange it, so there’ll no doubt be gossip from some quarters,” he said. “Nothing too severe, I imagine, but you know how small-minded society can be.”
“I have a feeling we’ll be called away before too long, anyway,” said Doc. “That should help. Out of sight, and all that.”
“Indeed.” Ogilvy eyed him. “What do you mean, away?”
“Nothing certain yet,” admitted Doc. “Just a feeling. Give me a few days and I might have something more definite.”
Ogilvy felt an odd, swooping feeling in his stomach, almost a sense of apprehension.
“Nothing too sinister, I hope,” he said. “Dealing with Lady Tremaine’s imaginary ghosts was one thing. I don’t want Belle facing a demon before she’s ready.”
“The forces of darkness are unlikely to wait around while we teach her what she needs to know,” said Doc, in a dry tone. “I’m afraid we’ll just have to do the best we can.”
Ogilvy nodded reluctantly. The work was never-ending, and the price for failure too high. Belle is a quick learner. She’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine.
-
Lady Ella had still not risen by the time they left, and Ogilvy was secretly relieved. He had no doubt that the servants would relay everything they had seen, and while he was sure that Ella would be delighted by he and Belle being intimate (and self-satisfied at having noted their mutual attraction) he was not in the mood to be quizzed about it in front of the others. Hatter and Ivy must have known, but to their credit they gave no indication. As long as Mrs Wolfe could remain blissfully ignorant, they should be able to reach the wedding day without any scandal touching the household. Not that he gave a damn about that, but Belle no doubt would.
They managed to catch the train in plenty of time, and once they had changed at Derby to the London train, Ogilvy took the seat opposite Belle and the children. Doc settled down beside him with a sigh of relief, folding his hands over his lap as Alice squeezed in between them. Ogilvy glanced at Belle, who had Nicholas on her lap and Ava tucked beneath one arm. She smiled at him, blushing a little and dropping her eyes before looking up again, and he wanted to lean across the carriage and kiss her. Unconsciously, he began turning the ring on his finger. Belle eyed him, touched her own finger, and briefly inclined her head towards Alice and Doc. He understood, and cleared his throat, catching the attention of the others.
“Miss Marchland and I have an announcement to make,” he said, meeting Belle’s eyes to ensure she was happy for him to proceed. She smiled and nodded.
“What announcement?” asked Alice eagerly. “What’s happened?”
“She’s agreed to do me the very great honour of becoming my wife,” he said, and winced as Alice squealed in excitement, throwing her arms around him.
“Oh! That’s wonderful news!” She jumped up and almost fell on Belle, kissing her cheek. “Oh, I knew this would happen! I knew it!”
Belle laughed, hugging her before embracing each of the twins and kissing their heads.
“This is so wonderful!” said Alice. “I knew you would be a part of this family from the moment we met, I just knew it!”
“Will you still be our governess?” asked Ava, a worried look in her eyes. “You won’t send us away, will you?”
“Of course not!” said Belle soothingly. “You will always have a home with us, I promise.”
“Does this mean you’ll be our mother?” asked Nicholas, and her smile widened.
“It means we’ll be a family,” she said. “And you may call me mother if you wish.”
The twins shared an awed, delighted look, and Ogilvy bit back a grin.
“When are you getting married?” asked Alice excitedly. “Do say it’s soon! Papa has been lonely for far too long, and you’re perfect for each other.”
“I believe we can arrange it quickly enough to satisfy you,” said Ogilvy. “I shall make enquiries as soon as we return home.”
“Oh!” Alice sat down beside Belle with a thump, beaming widely. “This was the best present I could have asked for! Mrs Wolfe will be delighted. She always said you needed a woman to keep you in line.”
“I wasn’t aware that I was out of line, but very well,” remarked Ogilvy.
“Papa, you know as well as I that most people consider you very odd.”
“Then their lives are lacking in colour and variety,” he said, and she giggled.
“Oh, I can’t wait to tell Ivy! She and Hatter were convinced that—”
She cut off, mouth snapping shut.
“Convinced that what?” asked Ogilvy dryly, and a blush rose in her cheeks.
“Never mind,” she said lightly. “Oh! Belle, what will you wear to the wedding? Perhaps the dress that Madame is making for you.”
“I don’t think that will be ready in time,” said Belle. “I don’t know. You must help me choose.”
“Of course I will!”
“Can I help?” asked Ava, and Nicholas chimed in with an offer. Belle laughed, hugging them both.
“This will be the best prepared wedding in history,” she told them.
-
It was dark by the time the train pulled into London, and the carriage ride home jolted weary bodies. The children were sleepy, and Doc grumbled about the state of the roads. Only Alice had kept her cheerful disposition, and Ogilvy heard a chorus of relieved sighs as they drew up outside the house. Hatter was immediately at the carriage door to help them down, and Ogilvy spied Mrs Wolfe waiting at the front door to welcome them home. Belle guided the children towards the stairs, speaking in a soothing tone about warm milk and comfortable beds. The twins leaned against her as they climbed, and Ogilvy watched them go with a faint smile. They would probably be asleep before he could read them a story. He rolled his shoulders to get out the stiffness as Hatter removed his coat, and went through to the living room, followed by Doc and Alice, Mrs Wolfe gliding behind them.
“We’re very pleased to see you all safely returned, sir,” she said.
Ogilvy took a deep breath, the familiar scent of beeswax and burning coals filling his nose. Lamps were lit, sending out a cheerful light, and the room was pleasantly warm. The Christmas greenery had been removed from the mantelpiece, along with the tree, and he found himself missing the scents of pine and rosemary.
“It feels good to be home, Mrs Wolfe,” he said. “Anything to report?”
“The chimney above the rear attics has started to leak, and there was an incident with the grocer’s boy teasing one of the maids,” she said. “I’ve arranged to have the chimney repaired next week, and have spoken to the grocer in the most severe terms.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said. Alice flopped onto one of the couches with a sigh, and Doc sat across from her in his usual chair, head rolling back against the leather.
“Would you please ask Mrs Potts to send up some mulled wine?” he asked. “I think we could all do with a glass.”
“It’s being prepared, sir,” she said.
“I knew we could rely on you, Mrs Wolfe,” he said, earning one of her rare smiles.
“Oh, there’s a telegram for you, sir,” she said. “It came this afternoon. I left it on the salver on the hall table.”
“Ah, thank you.”
He stepped out into the hallway again, spying the envelope and opening it up. It was marked as being sent from the Furton Post Office earlier that day, and he smiled.
“I KNEW IT!” declared the note. “STRONGLY WORDED LETTER TO FOLLOW!”
Ogilvy bit his lip in amusement, slipping the telegram into his pocket and returning to the living room. Ella knew, then.
Carlyle plays Ogilvy, an assistant astronomer in BBC1’s adaptation of HG Wells’s The War of the Worlds. He’s no Francis Begbie, but Carlyle’s treatment of the character is nevertheless remarkable: the script alludes to his bisexuality at a time same-sex relationships were illegal.
@maplesyrupao3 Hatched Confirmed. I love our bisexual boy 💖💜💙
Was thinking about Homecoming again and wasn't sure if I had teased Lady Ella.
So Lady Ella, how do you feel that Ogilvy lost his virginity under your roof? ;-) Are you happy he is with Miss Marchland?
I am delighted for both of them! I'd seen the way he was around her. Clearly besotted, the pair of them. Of course others will say they should have waited until they got married, but where's the fun in that? Strike while the iron's hot, that's what I say.
I'm expecting to be remembered in the naming of any future offspring.
