#Graham Humbert Imagine

[fantasticgothicpeachsludge]

Help! I’ve fallen for a rarepair from a show that ended 6 years 1 month and 7 days ago!

And by rarepair I mean there is one singular fic about them where they’re not a side ship or in a collection of smut drabbles

[kmomof4]

To Sir Graham, With Love - A New Fic for @snowbellewells Birthday!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARTA!!!!! We FINALLY made it, and I am SOOO EXCITED to finally be posting this fic for your special day!!! I love you dearly and I'm so thankful to have you in my life!!! I so hope you enjoy this fic featuring another one of your favorite couples, or at least one of your other favorite characters!!! I hope your day is as wonderful as you are and that this makes it even better!!! Love you, my friend!!!

@jrob64 and @whimsicallyenchantedrose are my FABULOUS betas for this story and they deserve all the love and long distance hugs I can give them for betaing this monster of a fic!!

@motherkatereloyshipper is responsible for some GORGEOUS artwork that is going to take some doing to share, because it's too big for Tumblr. But let me assure you, it is gorgeous and it WILL get shared, just as soon as I figure out how. I wish I could swim the ocean so I could give Kit a tackle hug!! Please go give her all the love!!! Update- we got it and the artwork is below the cut!!!! Please go give Kit alllllllll the love!!!!!

As Graham is one of Marta's favorite characters, this was the perfect Bridgerton story to adapt to him and Ruby. It is inspired by Eloise Bridgerton's story, To Sir Phillip, With Love. This fic is set in the same universe as my first Bridgerton fic, A Mistress to No One, though it's not necessary to have read it to enjoy this one.

Today's prologue is very short, so I'll be posting ch1 on Saturday and then weekly thereafter.

I so hope you enjoy my adaptation and let me know what you think!!!

Summary: After a year long secret correspondence, twenty-eight year old spinster Ruby Jones decides to accept Sir Graham Humbert's offer of a visit to see if they might suit for marriage. Unfortunately, he failed to mention that he was the father of twins, and they are not thrilled with Ruby's appearance.

Rating: M (smut, mentions of abuse)

Words: Almost 2k of almost 68k

Tags: Red Hunter Fic, Birthday Fic, Inspired by Eloise Bridgerton's Story, Smut

On ao3

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615

@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @pirateprincessofpizza

@djlbg @lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic

@anmylica @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling

@caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite

@captainswan-kellie @soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose

@thisonesatellite @jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones

@mie779 @kymbersmith-90 @suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites @myfearless-love 

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Prologue

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I know you say I will someday like boys, but I say NEVER! Do you hear me? NEVER!!! With THREE exclamation points! From Ruby Jones to her mother Alice, shoved under her door during Ruby’s eighth year

~*~*~*~

I never dreamed the season could be so exciting, David! I’m sure I’ll fall in love straight away! How could I not? When the men are so handsome and charming? From Ruby Jones to her older brother David, on the occasion of her London debut ~*~*~*~

I’m starting to believe I’ll never marry. If there was someone out there for me, don’t you think I’d have found him by now? From Ruby Jones to her dearest friend Mary Margaret Blanchard, during their sixth season as debutantes ~*~*~*~

This is my last chance. I am grabbing destiny with both hands and throwing caution to the wind. Sir Graham, please, please be all that I’ve imagined you to be. Because if you are the man your letters portray you to be, I believe I could love you. And if you felt the same… Ruby Jones, writing on a scrap of paper, the evening she ran away from home to meet Sir Graham Humbert for the first time – A scrap of paper that fluttered to the floor behind her writing desk when the created breeze as she opened and shut her bedroom door, reached it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was another sunny day. 

A sunny day after a string of gray.

Just like before.

Could that be why he was feeling so melancholy? God, he hoped so. Because that’s a plausible reason why he couldn’t seem to bring himself to leave his seat in his study and why he couldn’t remember actually drinking the whiskey he’d poured himself when he’d entered the room quite some time ago, if the angle of the setting sun told him anything.  

He couldn’t bear it if he became like her.

Melancholy for no reason at all. A melancholy that permeated her very being. They’d been married for eight years and he’d never heard Jacinda laugh. And he could count on one hand how many times he’d seen her smile.

He probably should have expected it. Who was he kidding? He did expect it; he just didn’t allow that thought, that sense of foreboding, to penetrate the front of his consciousness. 

He never would have thought she’d do it on such a beautiful day, though. 

A beautiful day after such a long stretch of… not beautiful… melancholy… days; days much more suited to her incessant mood.

Graham had been in his greenhouse that fateful day, recording the results of his latest experiment with peas - he sought to breed a new strand that grew fatter and plumper inside the pod, though he hadn’t yet succeeded - when he looked up through the freshly washed glass of the greenhouse and saw a flash of red. Jacinda’s favorite color. She must have roused herself from her bedchamber to come outside and enjoy the lovely sunshine. The thought made him smile. Perhaps the sun would bring her some modicum of joy.

He watched as she disappeared into a copse of trees between the greenhouse and the small lake on the estate, then bent back down to his work.

Suddenly the thought occurred to him that he should collect his children and bring them outside to see their mother. They saw her every evening, but they craved more time with her, even if all they could expect was a trembling of her lips and a pat on the head. He hadn’t yet seen his children today, but with the sunshine, he’d left instructions for their nurse to take them on a walk outside before he’d come down to the greenhouse, but he could just as easily take them on their walk, and he ought not shirk that responsibility.

A wave of guilt came over him. He was not the father they needed. He tried to assuage his conscience by telling himself that he was quite definitely succeeding in his one and only goal he had pertaining to fatherhood - to not be the kind of father his father was. But he was succeeding in that matter only because he spent as little time as possible with them, more often shooing them off to their nurse for her to deal with. It was easier that way.

He rose from his workbench and left the greenhouse, intent on bringing Nicholas and Ava outside to spend a few minutes with their mother, but as he strode toward the house, he realized that he should probably ascertain Jacinda’s mood before springing the children on her. He hated for them to see her in one of her moods, so he changed direction and went in search of his wife.

Her footprints were clear in the soft ground when he entered the woods he’d watched her disappear into, but once he emerged from their cover, he cursed, having forgotten about the grassy meadow he now stood in. Her footprints would be invisible now, so he looked up, shading his eyes against the morning sun, looking for a flash of red. Nothing at the old abandoned cottage, nor near the field of experimental grains he grew, or at the giant boulder he’d spent many hours scrambling over as a child. He finally turned north toward the lake and spotted her.

The lake. 

He was frozen for a moment, as he watched her slow progress toward the shore of the small body of water. It wasn’t until she was nearly there that his paralysis broke, his feet somehow recognizing what his eyes and mind hadn’t yet comprehended. He was still too far away to do anything but call her name as he ran toward her. 

If she heard him, she gave no indication, never halting her progress. She entered the shallows and just kept walking until she came to the drop off, disappearing under the water, the red cloak she wore floating for just a moment before it was dragged down with her to the depths. 

It was another full minute before Graham arrived at the edge of the lake, even at a full run. He had just enough presence of mind to take off his boots and coat before following 

her into the freezing water. She’d only been underwater a minute, but he had no idea how long it took for someone to drown, and every second more was another second closer to her death.

He plunged under the water, and with strong strokes, swam to where he’d last seen her. He peered through the murky water looking for the telltale flash of red. 

There.

She didn’t fight him as he grabbed the cloak and hauled her to him to bring her to the surface. When he got her to the shore, her skin had the gray pallor that he’d only seen twice in his life. Once on his father and the other when his beloved brother’s body was returned home after losing his life at Waterloo. The second thrusting him into the position he now held as well as laying the duty to marry and beget an heir on his shoulders. He didn’t love Jacinda. He never had. But he cared for her, and he knew underneath the persistent melancholy, she was a good person, and he’d never wish for her death.

He shook his head, flinging droplets of water from his hair and face, but was shocked to realize it wasn’t just lake water, it was tears. How could she do this? What about the children? In the balance of life, did her sadness really mean more than their need for a mother? How was he going to tell them? He was barely a father to them. How in the hell was he now supposed to be a mother as well?

He barely remembered carrying his wife’s body back to the house, the persistent hope in the back of his mind that the children and their nurse hadn’t yet left for their walk. He managed to avoid them the rest of the day - sending for the priest and making the arrangements for Jacinda’s burial. But when evening came, he knew he had to face them.

They said hardly a word when he told them their mother was gone, which was unusual. Just turned seven years old, they stared at him with their wide unblinking eyes. They didn’t look surprised, either, which disturbed Graham just a bit.

“I… I’m sorry,” he stammered, looking down at his hands clasped in his lap. He loved them so much, but he’d failed them in so many ways. How could he face them?

“It’s not your fault,” Nicholas said. Graham met his dark eyes as his son lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “She fell in the lake. You didn’t push her.”

“Is she happy now?” Ava asked quietly. Graham looked at her and sighed.

“I think so,” he murmured. “She gets to watch you now from heaven, so yes, I think she’s happy.”

“I hope so,” Nicholas finally said. “Maybe she won’t cry anymore.”

That caught Graham’s attention. He hadn’t realized they could hear Jacinda’s sobs. It was normally so late at night that they should have been long asleep, but with their room directly above hers, he really shouldn’t have been surprised.

Ava nodded in agreement with her brother’s statement. “If she’s happy now, then I’m glad.”

And it was the truth. Graham could only hope her soul had finally found the peace and happiness that eluded her in life. And if that was the case, he would take solace in it.

Pulling himself back from the bleak direction his thoughts had taken, he looked down at his empty glass again. He hated remembering that day two months ago, but the similarities between that day and this were too much to be ignored and he couldn’t help himself. On the day her mother died, Ava had asked if he was going to leave them too and he swore that he wouldn’t - he’d never leave them. But his presence wasn’t enough. They needed more. They needed someone who knew how to be a parent. Someone who knew how to speak to them, love them, understand them, get them to behave. 

He needed a wife.

Almost any wife would do. He didn’t care what she looked like, how much money she had, or if she could do sums in her head. She just needed to be happy. Was that too much to ask?

It was too soon, of course. He couldn’t marry until the prescribed mourning period was completed, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t start looking.

“Sir?” His secretary, Miles, interrupted his musings. “A letter for you. From London.”

He took the small envelope, noting the feminine slant to the script, and dismissed the man with a nod. Opening it, a single sheet of paper fell out. It was heavy, clearly expensive. He turned it over and began to read.

No. 5, Bruton Street

London

Sir Graham Humbert-

I am writing to express my condolences on the loss of your wife, my cousin, Jacinda. Although it had been many years since I’d seen her, I remember her fondly and was saddened to hear of her passing.

Please do not hesitate to write if there is anything I can do to ease your pain in this difficult time.

Yrs,

Miss Ruby Jones

Jones. Jones. Did Jacinda have Jones cousins? She must have. The evidence was right here before him. He had received very few notes of condolences since Jacinda passed. She rarely left her bedchamber, after all. It was easy to forget about someone who was never seen.

Miss Ruby Jones deserved a reply. Besides being common courtesy, he just felt it was the right thing to do. 

Graham picked up his quill, and with a weary breath, began to write.

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! Happy birthday, Marta!! Hope you've had a wonderful day!!! Ch1 will be up Saturday!!

[rebelwrites]

You Saved Yourself

Graham Humbert x Reader

Summary: The road to recovery is long but Graham is there every step of the way.

Requested by @lady-of-the-spirit // Could you do something with Graham and number 11 please?

Prompt: “You saved me.” “No. You saved yourself. I just reminded you of what you already knew.”

Join The TagList Here 💜 // Graham Humbert Masterlist

Everyone said that if you tried to leave Storybrooke bad things would happen, but you being stubborn didn’t believe them. So when your flight or fight instincts kicked in, when things were getting too real with Graham you did what you did best. Run.

However you should have taken what people were saying was the truth but as soon as you tried to cross the town line you lost control of your sports car, somehow it managed to flip. And in those few seconds your life flashed before your eyes. Every single memory of your life and every memory you had with your boyfriend played in front of you and you were pretty sure this was the end.

It had been two months since your accident, and ever since that day your moods were all over the place and you had completely lost yourself, on the path of self destruct. And to make matters worse you had to learn to walk again from the reconstructive surgery you needed on your knee. But you refused to learn to walk again so you relied on your crutches.

“Sweetheart the hospital called to say you haven’t been attending your physio sessions” Graham sighed as he ran his fingers through your knotted hair.

“It’s pointless” you moaned “I’m never going to be able to walk again let alone drive”

“This isn’t my Y/N talking” Graham whispered crouching in front of you.

“That Y/N is fine and she isn’t coming back” you said with no emotion.

“No that I don’t believe” he said running his fingers down your arm. “I know she is still in there somewhere, you just need a little help finding her again”

“Graham I’m not in the mood for one of your inspirational speeches, okay” you sighed.

The months passed and you were slipping further into a slump but you were in desperate need of a drink. But you could only find one crutch.

“Fuck sake” you screamed as you managed to push yourself up without putting any weight in your right knee.

Taking a deep breath, you mentally tried to prepare yourself, it was only a short walk to the kitchen. You had done this plenty of times, granted it was with two crutches. After two steps you were ready to give up, you had spent weeks laying on the sofa, not attending physio so you had basically forgotten how to walk. You tried to put a bit of weight on your knee, but that was a mistake as a sharp pain shot through your leg as you dropped to the floor in defeat. You couldn’t do it, you had given up.

You were so frustrated, hot tears rolled down your cheeks, just as the front door closed signally Graham was home.

“Shit sweetheart” Graham said rushing to your side “what happened”

“I only went to get a drink” you sobbed into his chest. “I couldn’t do it, I can’t put any fucking weight in my knee”

“Hey hey it’s alright” Graham said as he rocked you in his arms. “The first step is realising you need help”

“Help me please” you sobbed gripping the edges of his leather jacket “I can’t live like this anymore”

It was a long road to recovery but you have Graham by your side every step of the way. Literally.

Today marked a year since your accident and it was also the day you would walk unaided. Happy tears streamed down your cheeks as Graham watched you take small slow steps towards him. He had a giant cheesy grin on his face as he watched you beat the odds.

Yes your steps were small,you weren't that fast and you had a limp but you were walking again that was the main thing. Your vision was blurry as you made your way across the room into the arms of your boyfriend. As soon as you were within touching distance of him you flung your arms around him, burying your face in his chest as he kissed the top of your head.

“You saved me.” You cried as you hugged him tight “I couldn’t have done this without you”

“No sweetheart. You saved yourself” he grinned “I just reminded you of what you already knew.”

[imagination-of-fictional-men]

Graham Humbert (50)

IMAGINE Convincing Graham you’ll be alright after Regina threatens to kill you

[littlexredxwolf]

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Pain - Graham Humbert

Pairing: Graham Humbert x Reader

Characters: Graham Humbert, Regina Mills

Warnings: N/A

Request: @milleniumxhan: “Heyyy! Could you do a Graham x reader (OUAT) where you're Regina's younger sister and she brought you over with the curse but then Regina starts noticing Graham remembering the romantic relationship you had with him back in the Enchanted Forest and tries to hurt you or smthg but Graham helps you and saves your life and then you help him get away from Regina? Thanks!”

Word Count: 1033

Author: Hannah

Having the burden of remembering something that other people didn’t was never going to be an easy feat.

For some reason, your sister Regina had had the clearly great idea of bringing you over with her but that meant you had your memories from the Enchanted Forest.

Graham, however, didn’t and that hurt you whenever you saw him with your sister.

Regina was older than you and that meant you weren’t really ever prepared to challenge her – the two of you had never gotten on properly but you had your moments, despite that you knew Regina was sleeping with Graham as a spite against you.

You and Graham had been together in the Enchanted Forest which was a main factor to your sister not liking you. You’d opted to leave your life with her in the palace behind to be with Graham permanently, and then a year later she cast the curse.

The only upside to being in Storybrooke was that your sister had given you your own house – you had the option to see Henry and he could stay with you, but you didn’t have to be around when she was with Graham however that didn’t stop you from knowing.

In the past week or so Graham had been making an effort to be around you more which was strange when compared to normal.

You worked in the station with him, which hadn’t pleased Regina, but she couldn’t stop you, and more recently he’d made more of an effort to stay back and do paperwork with you or ask you out for a drink afterwards or offer to drive you home at the end of a long day.

It reminded you of how he acted with you back in the Enchanted Forest.

You’d gone over to Regina’s house in order to spend some time with Henry but when you had gotten there, Henry was nowhere to be seen.

“Henry?!”

As you made your way through the house, you saw Regina sat in the living room, so you went in to sit down opposite her.

“Hey, where’s Henry?”

She shrugged. “He’s with Archie, did I not tell you?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

You smiled at her. “It’s all good, I’ll see him tomorrow then?”

As you went to stand up, Regina shook her head. “I need to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“You know what.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “I never know with you Regina so just tell me.”

“Why has Graham been spending more of his nights with you rather than with me?”

Sighing, you shook your head. “I don’t know Regina, that’s something you’ll have to ask him – he’s your boyfriend after all.”

“He hasn’t been here for me to talk to him.”

You shrugged as you stood up. “I honestly don’t know Regina, you need to ask him.”

She glared at you before standing up also – shooting her hand out at you so her magic shot at you also.

You grimaced as the pain spread through your side.

“That’s for lying to me.”

“I don’t lie to you, you know that,” you spoke through gritted teeth.

She scoffed as her glare hardened. “Don’t pretend you haven’t been trying to get Graham to remember.”

“He can’t remember, you know that,” you told her as your voice gained an upset tone. “So, stop taunting me with your relationship.”

You left Regina stewing her own anger, but you walked with more of a limp due to the pain in your side.

As usual you had no clue what Regina had done to you, her magic usually wore off after a couple of days, but it was meant to remind you that she could hurt you more than you could her.

When you eventually got back to your house you saw Graham sat outside in the cop car.

“Graham?” you called out as the both of you got out of your cars.

He smiled sheepishly at you but then his face turned to panic as he saw you wincing.

You invited him into your house once you’d unlocked the door.

“What’s wrong? Why are you in pain?”

You dismissed his comments with a wave of your hand. “I’m not in pain, I’m all good.”

He didn’t look convinced and followed you to the kitchen. “You’re clutching your side and wincing whenever it pulls – tell me what’s wrong, please.”

“My sister got me when she was moving some furniture around.”

“I doubt very much that she did it by accident.”

You sighed which gave Graham his answer.

He came to stand in front of you before motioning for you to lift up your shirt, so he could see your side.

You looked down as he did and gasped at the discolouring – you had no clue what she had shot at you, but it was manifesting nastily.

“It’ll go away in a few days – it never lasts long.”

Graham looked up at you in shock. “She’s done this before?”

“We don’t always get on Graham.”

He shook his head in disbelief before going to get an icepack from your freezer. “Please take care of yourself.”

“It’s my sister you need to blame.”

“I don’t want to be around her anymore.”

You smiled at him. “We could always leave?”

“She’s the mayor, there’s no way we could get away from her.”

“I know a way.”

Graham reached out to pull you into a hug but did so gingerly as he didn’t want to harm you further. “Why does this feel so familiar?”

“Perhaps in a past life we were like this.”

He looked down at you in confusion. “What makes you say that?”

“As it’s familiar to me too.”

He breathed what seemed to be a sigh of relief. “You feel the same?”

You shrugged with a smile on your face. “That depends on what you feel.”

“I feel like we’ve been here before, in this situation together.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “There’s so much I need to tell you but I’m afraid you won’t believe me – you’ll think I’ve gone mad.”

He shook his head in disagreement. “There’s no way that could ever happen.”

“I’m not so sure.”

[imaginefan]

Wrong Impression

Graham Humbert X Reader

Word Count: 435

Requested: Anon

Request: Hey! Could you do a Graham from OUAT x Reader where he meets the Reader and immediately likes her but doesn't know how to approach her. So he tries to become friends with her friends to get advice but the Reader thinks it's because he loves her friend and it gets a bit angsty but it ends well? Thanks! ❤💙

You had obviously seen Graham around but you never had to deal with him, you were never in trouble not like your friend (Y/F/N), she was probably the most troubled person that you had met. “(Y/N)!” She called as you come to pick her up from the station.

“What did you do?” You asked. “Nothing… That warrants being arrested.” She answered. “By whose standards?” You asked. “Mine.” She nodded. “I don’t want to have to see you back here.” Graham smiled as he handed her the stuff that she had come in with. “You will.” (Y/F/N) winked before walking out, Graham smiled at you waving before you left. You like him, he seemed like a good guy and he was handsome but you were sure that he was very invested in whatever he and (Y/F/N) had going on.

Weeks later he seemed to find (Y/F/N) where ever you went and you were started to get annoyed considering she’d insisted that there was nothing between the two of them and even claimed that he liked you. You were at Granny’s when he sat down in front of you “Hi.” He smiled. “She’s not here.” You mumbled going back to what you were doing before. “Who?” He asked frowning. “(Y/F/N)” You answered. “What does she have to do with anything?” He asked confused. “You think I don’t know you like her, I don’t understand my place in your plan but she’s not here so you can leave!” You glared. “What?” He asked confused. “You're here because you like (Y/F/N) am I right?” You asked and he sat in a stunned silence. “Though so.” You got up and left.

That same night there was a knock at your door and as soon as you opened it someone connected their lips with yours, you pushed them back and you saw Graham “You are so wrong.” Graham said out of breath. “I was talking you (Y/F/N) because I had no clue how to approach you. I thought that we’d meet by association or that she would have some tips for me.” “You should have just said hi.” You smiled. “Well, your beauty intimidates me.” He smirked. “You want to come in?” You asked. “Unfortunately I’m the only officer in this town so I can’t but I’d love to take you out some time.” He smiled. “I like that too officer.” You smiled. “Well, then I’ll see you tomorrow at 7.” He smiled leaning forward and kissing your cheek before walking back to the car.

Requests and general question!

[envision-imagines]

“You have to stop looking at me like that in public,” Y/N told him. “Last thing we need is for Regina to find out.” “It’s quite difficult when you look like that.” requested by harrisonwellstrash requests are open

[thefandomimagine]

Submitted by anonymous.

[sheriffxgrahammyxboy]

okay but Graham slowly gets some memories, or impressions of memories, back over the course of the episode, and he finds out from Henry about having his heart taken, but then he says the line “I don’t know how I got caught up with Regina” which implies that despite all the information he’s gotten during the episode, he still doesn’t fully understand until after that second kiss that what was going on was not consensual.

and then Emma, who at this point still doesn’t know/believe what’s been going on, says “Because it was easy. And safe. Not feeling anything is an attractive option when what you feel sucks.”

which puts it on him, in a way, it makes it sound like some bad judgement on his part. not like an unforgivable sin or anything, but it puts this portion of responsibility for that situation on him. and then they kiss and he gets his memories back and he gets to know for sure for all of a few seconds that that was not all on him, that it wasn’t his choice and wasn’t his fault and then he dies and Emma never gets to know that.

and there’s never any sign that she ever finds out, either.

[foreveracharmedone]

“You did this.”

Gremma Appreciation: Missing Scenes - Emma learns the truth of what happened to Graham. 

[kmomof4]

To Sir Graham, With Love Ch. 1

We're back with the first full length chapter!! I am so thrilled and thankful for the response this fic has gotten so far, but I am OVER THE MOON that Marta loves it so much already, since it was for her birthday that it was written!! Thank you all so much!!! I hope you enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think!!

Thank you again to @jrob64 and @whimsicallyenchantedrose for all their hard work betaing this thing and to @motherkatereloyshipper for her GORGEOUS and PERFECT artwork above!!!

Chapter Summary: Ruby arrives at Romney Hall and meets Sir Graham and his children.

Rating: M (smut, mentions of abuse)

Words: 7300 of almost 68k

Tags: Red Hunter Fic, Birthday Fic, Inspired by Eloise Bridgerton's Story, Smut

On ao3 From beginning / Current Ch

On Tumblr Prologue

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615

@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @pirateprincessofpizza

@djlbg @lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic

@anmylica @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling

@caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite

@captainswan-kellie @soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose

@thisonesatellite @jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones

@mie779 @kymbersmith-90 @suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites @myfearless-love 

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

May 1824

 Somewhere on the road between London and Gloucestershire 

in the middle of the night.

~*~*~

Dear Miss Jones,

Thank you for your kind note of condolence on the loss of my wife. It was very thoughtful of you to take the time to write to a stranger over the loss of your cousin, whom you hadn’t seen in many years. I offer you this pressed flower as thanks. It is naught but the simple red campion (Silene dioica), but it brightens the countryside of my home and was Jacinda’s favorite flower.

Sincerely, 

Sir Graham Humbert

Ruby couldn’t see the actual words on the well worn sheet of paper sitting atop the small stack on her lap. It was too dark, even with the full moon shining through the windows of the carriage. Not that it mattered. She had every word memorized. And the pressed flower that had fallen out of the envelope before she’d even had a chance to read the first word, was kept safely inside the pages of her favorite book of poetry.

She hadn’t been terribly surprised when she’d received the return missive, but she had been surprised at the small gift. 

Ruby took her correspondence seriously - perhaps too seriously, according to her mother, Alice - but she enjoyed penning short notes to whichever of her siblings wasn’t in London at the time or to old friends she hadn’t seen in years. She liked to imagine their delight when opening her letters, and so she pulled out paper and quill daily for any number of occasions - births, deaths, or anything that deserved congratulations.

And while she almost always received some acknowledgement in return - she was a Jones, after all, and no one in the ton was keen to ignore or offend a Jones - the small gift from Sir Graham Humbert was the first of its kind she’d ever received. Ruby closed her eyes and brought the memory of the flower to the front of her mind. It was hard to imagine a man handling such a delicate blossom. Her four brothers were all strong and sturdy men with large hands and she knew any one of them would have mangled the fragile bloom in a heartbeat. She’d been intrigued by Sir Graham’s reply, particularly his use of the Latin, and she’d immediately penned her own response.

Dear Sir Graham -

Thank you so much for the charming pressed flower. I was very pleasantly surprised when it fell out of the envelope, and especially when you revealed it was Jacinda’s favorite. It is a lovely memento of her.

I couldn’t help but notice your facility with the Latin name of the bud. Are you a botanist?

Yours,

Miss Ruby Jones

It was perhaps a bit underhanded to end her letter with a question. Now Sir Graham would be forced to reply. He did not disappoint in that regard, his letter arriving only ten days after she’d sent hers.

Dear Miss Jones -

Indeed I am a botanist. Trained at Cambridge, although I am not now associated with any university or scientific board. I perform experiments here in my working greenhouse at Romney Hall.

Are you of a scientific bent as well?

Yours,

Sir Graham Humbert

The return question was quite thrilling - whether he felt obligated to ask it because she’d posed her own question first or he was simply eager to continue their correspondence, she wasn’t sure - and she wasted no time in composing her reply.

Dear Sir Graham - 

Heavens, no! I do not have a scientific mind, although I do have a fair head for numbers. I lean more toward the humanities. You may have noticed I enjoy writing letters.

Yours in friendship,

Ruby Jones

Ruby was almost hesitant to sign that letter so informally, but she decided to err on the side of boldness. Sir Graham was obviously enjoying the correspondence as much as she was, otherwise he wouldn’t have concluded his missive with a question. Her answer arrived a fortnight later.

My dear Miss Jones -

Your last valediction is true, isn’t it? We are developing a friendship of sorts through our correspondence. I must admit to a certain amount of isolation here in the country. But if one cannot have a smiling face across the breakfast table, an amiable letter is a gratifying substitute, wouldn’t you agree?

I have enclosed another flower for you. This one is Geranium pratense, more commonly known as the meadow cranesbill.

With great regard,

Graham Humbert

Ruby remembered the day well. She’d sat in her chair by the window in her bedchamber staring at the carefully pressed purple flower for hours. Was he attempting to court her? Through letters?

Then, one day - some months and many letters later - she received a missive unlike any of the others.

My dear Miss Jones -

We have been corresponding now for quite a while, and although we’ve never formally met, I feel a certain kinship with you and hope you feel the same.

I am writing to you today to invite you to visit me at Romney Hall. It is my hope that after a suitable period of time, we might decide we will suit and you will consent to be my wife.

Of course, should you agree to visit, you will be appropriately chaperoned. I will make immediate arrangements to bring my widowed aunt to Romney Hall.

I hope you will consider my proposal.

Yours, as always,

Graham Humbert

Ruby had immediately tucked the letter in a drawer, too shocked to even countenance his request. He wanted to marry someone he didn’t even know?

Well, that wasn’t entirely true, she admitted to herself the more she thought about it. They did rather know one another. After a year-long correspondence, they’d said more to each other than some members of the ton had during the course of their entire marriage.

But still, they’d never met.

Ruby thought back over all of the marriage proposals she’d received over the years since her debut. How many? At least six. And now, she couldn’t even remember why she’d turned down most of them. 

Perhaps the society matrons were right. Perhaps she was too particular. Too demanding. She’d end up a spinster. Who was she kidding? She was a spinster. One didn’t reach the age of eight and twenty without having that dreaded word whispered behind one’s back. Or thrown in one’s face.

But the fact was, she really didn’t mind her situation. She remembered a long ago conversation with her brother Killian, before he’d married Emma, when she told him she’d marry when she found someone worth tying herself down to. And after all these years out in society, she hadn’t found anyone who met that criteria as of yet.

It also didn’t help that her married siblings were all deeply in love with their respective spouses, and she just didn’t see herself settling for anything less.

She didn’t need someone who was perfect. She just needed someone who was perfect for her.

And as wonderful and loving as her family was, it was difficult to talk to any of them about any of this. Ruby adored her mother, but Alice had only in the last couple of years stopped urging Ruby to find herself a husband, and now she was rather reluctant to open the door again to her mother’s tenacious hope to see all of her children in happy and loving marriages. Her older brothers would be completely useless. Liam would probably take it upon himself to find her a suitable mate and then glower the poor man into submission. Killian was too much of a dreamer, and David… Well, David was something else altogether.

She might have asked Belle, her older sister, but whenever Ruby thought about how blissfully happy she was married to Will and mother to her brood of four, she thought she couldn’t possibly have any practical advice for someone in Ruby’s situation. Tink was half a world away in Scotland, and Tilly wasn’t yet on the shelf as Ruby was, and to tell the truth, Ruby just didn’t think her youngest sister had the maturity to really understand her thoughts and feelings on the matter.

And now, he wanted to meet. Ruby thought he must be mad. Why else would he want to ruin what was a perfect courtship? Because if ever there was a perfect man out there for her, it must be the Sir Graham Humbert of Ruby’s imagination. Since she’d never actually met him, she’d been able to construct him in her mind, using his letters as the skeleton and then fleshing him out as she saw fit.

The Joneses were a loud and boisterous family, and it was exceedingly difficult to keep a secret from them, but somehow, Ruby had managed to do so with Sir Graham. He was hers. 

But then, the impossible had happened. Mary Margaret Blanchard, her best friend since they were children, had married. And not only had she married, she’d married David. If the Thames had completely dried up, Ruby could not have been more surprised. And she was happy for them. Truly she was. They were her two favorite people in the world and to see them so happy together was something that brought her more joy than she ever thought possible. But it did leave a bit of a hole in Ruby’s heart.

Because when she thought of herself as an on-the-shelf spinster, Mary Margaret had always been there with her. 

And now she was alone.

Which made Sir Graham’s proposal - tucked away at the very bottom of her bundle of letters, at the bottom of the middle drawer, locked away in a newly purchased safebox, just so Ruby wouldn’t be tempted to look at it a dozen times a day - all the more intriguing.

More intriguing by the day, actually, as she grew more restless and dissatisfied with this life that, she had to admit in a bout of brutal self-honesty, she had chosen.

So one day, after visiting Mary Margaret and being informed by the butler that Mr. and Mrs. Jones were not receiving visitors, she made a decision. It was time to take her life into her own hands, time to control her own destiny. 

Mary Margaret had once compared Ruby to a dog with a bone once she got an idea in her head. And she had not been joking. It didn’t matter what it was about, once Ruby made a decision, not even the full force of the Jones clan - which was a formidable force indeed - could dissuade her from her chosen course.

She knew they’d never allow her to run off blindly to see a man she’d never formally met. Liam would insist on his coming to London to meet the entire family - a worse scenario for Sir Graham Ruby could not imagine. At least the men who’d sought her favor in the past were familiar with the societal expectations of the ton, but Sir Graham hadn’t set foot in London since his school days, nor had he ever participated in the social season. He’d be completely ambushed.

So the only other option was for her to travel in secret to Gloucestershire. If she told her family, if they didn’t forbid her from going, they’d insist on sending at least two of their number with her - likely her mother and Tilly - and there was no way on God’s green earth she’d be able to fall in love with Graham, or he with her, if those two were hanging around. Or even form a semi-affectionate attachment, which Ruby might seriously consider this time.

She decided to make her escape during her sister Belle’s ball. Her mother always insisted on being early when one of their family members was hosting an event, and if Ruby slipped away early on, she could be halfway to Gloucestershire before anyone in her family even realized she was gone.

So here she was rolling toward her future. Toward her destiny. She hoped. With nothing more than a few changes of clothing and a pile of letters written by a man she’d never met.

But a man she hoped she could love.

It was thrilling. 

It was terrifying.

It was, quite possibly, the most foolhardy thing she’d ever done in her life. And she had made her fair share of foolhardy decisions in her past. 

But it could also be her last chance at happiness.

She was growing fanciful. That was a bad sign. She needed to pull herself back and look at this adventure with all the practicality and pragmatism she’d always employed when making decisions. What did she really know about Sir Graham Humbert? He’d told her quite a bit over their year long correspondence –

He was thirty years of age, two years her elder. He’d attended Cambridge and studied botany. He’d been married to her fourth cousin, Jacinda, for eight years, which meant he’d been twenty-one at his wedding. He had sandy-colored, curly hair. He had all his teeth. He was a baronet. He lived at Romney Hall, a stone structure built about a century before near Tetbury, Gloucestershire. He liked to read scientific treatises and poetry but not novels or works of philosophy. He liked the rain. He liked the woods. His favorite color was green. He had never traveled outside of England. He did not like fish. 

Ruby snort laughed into her hand. “Surely a sound basis for marriage,” she muttered, before rehearsing the things she’d told him about herself in her letters.

She was twenty-eight. She had dark brown hair and all of her teeth. She had green eyes. She came from a very large and loving family. Her brother was a viscount. Her father had passed when she was a small child, brought down by a humble bee sting. She had a tendency to talk too much (Dear God… had she really put that in writing?). She liked to read novels and poetry, but certainly not scientific treatises or works of philosophy. She had traveled to Scotland. Her favorite color was red. She did not like mutton and positively detested blood pudding. 

Another snort laugh burst from her. Yes, she thought with no small amount of sarcasm, we are obviously made for each other. But just because she accepted his invitation, didn’t mean she had to marry him. She was merely coming to see if they would suit. She’d made no promises to him, after all. Her fingers drummed against her thigh, nervously. 

She had reason to be nervous. 

She had left home and all that was familiar to travel to the other side of England and no one knew. 

Not even Sir Graham.

Because in her haste to leave London, she’d failed to tell him she was coming. It wasn’t that she had forgotten, exactly, but more that she’d pushed the task aside until it was too late.

If she told him, she was committed to the plan. And she was, quite frankly, terrified of what she was doing and feared turning away in cowardice.

Besides, he was the one who requested she visit. He’d surely be happy to see her.

Wouldn’t he?

~*~*~

Graham rose from his bed and pulled open the draperies to another perfectly sunny day.

Perfect, he thought sardonically.

He’d spend the day in the greenhouse. Elbows deep in dirt. Where he could avoid thoughts of the mysterious Ruby Jones.

Thump.

Graham sighed as he looked to the ceiling. And thoughts of his children.

Since Jacinda died, he’d avoided all but the most necessary human interaction. And he must have alluded to that fact at some point in his letters to Miss Ruby Jones, and so when he’d sent off his proposal of not-quite-marriage-but-maybe-something-leading-up -to-it over a month ago, she must not have thought him serious or he’d completely misjudged her and had completely spooked the girl. Her silence since she must have received his letter had been deafening.

He had to admit to being somewhat befuddled at her lack of response. In the entire course of their correspondence, there had never been more than a fortnight between him sending off his letter, and receiving her reply. She could have at least written him a note and declined his invitation.

She was eight and twenty, quite obviously a spinster, and had been conversing with a stranger by letter for over a year. Surely she was a little desperate? Wouldn’t she appreciate the chance to marry? He had a home and respectable fortune. Plus, he was only thirty years of age. What more could she want?

She’d seemed the perfect solution to his problems.

THUMP.

He grimaced this time as he looked at the ceiling. He desperately needed a mother for Nicholas and Ava. Someone who could manage them and make them behave. And from what he’d gathered about her through their correspondence, she seemed the perfect candidate. Her letters led him to believe that she was open, honest, had abundant experience with children - with all the nieces and nephews she had - and possessed a decidedly sunny disposition, which, if one came right down to it, was the only thing he truly desired in a wife this time around.

THUMP!

That was the loudest yet. But their nurse was with them and she could always manage them better than he did. Whatever was causing the thumping, it was obviously large. Perhaps he could finish dressing quickly and get out of the house before they did too much damage. Then he could put them and their destructive tendencies from his mind. Yes, an excellent plan. Out of earshot, out of mind.

He finished dressing in under a minute and strode purposefully into the hall.

“Sir Graham! Sir Graham!”

Damn. His butler was after him now. Graham pretended he didn’t hear, never breaking his stride toward the stairs.

“Sir Graham!”

“Curse it,” he muttered, under his breath. There was no possible way to ignore that bellow, not without risking the entire staff whispering behind his back about his apparent hearing loss.

“Yes,” he said, turning slowly toward the man, “Gunning?”

“Sir Graham,” Gunning said, clearing his throat. “We have a caller.”

Graham could only stare at him, completely dumbfounded. “A what?”

“A caller, sir,” he repeated. “We used to receive callers. Don’t you remember?”

Graham rolled his eyes in annoyance. That was the thing about having servants who’d worked for the family since before one was born. They rather enjoyed employing sarcasm.

“And who is this caller?” he asked.

“I’m not entirely certain, sir.”

Graham stared incredulously at the man. “You’re not certain?” he exclaimed. “Why didn’t you ask? Isn’t that what butlers are supposed to do?”

“Inquire, sir?”

“Yes, inquire, Gunning.” Graham wondered if he was purposefully trying to see how red in the face his employer could get without collapsing in a fit of apoplexy. 

“I thought I would let you do so,” he replied mildly. “She is here to see you, after all.”

“As are all of our callers and that never stopped you before from ascertaining their identities before announcing them.”

“Well, actually, sir…”

“I’m quite certain…” Graham interrupted.

“We don’t have callers, sir,” Gunning finished, smiling broadly at having clearly won the verbal sparring match.

Graham was about to point out that they did have callers - the evidence of which was waiting for him downstairs at that very moment - but really, what was the point?

“Fine,” he ground out, thoroughly irritated. “I’ll go downstairs.”

“Excellent, sir.”

Graham turned from the man and resumed his path toward the stairs. A caller. Who would be calling? And at this time of the morning? No one had called in nearly a year, since the neighbors had finished making the obligatory condolence calls. He descended the stairs and turned into the entry hall.

He stopped short. Nearly stumbling.

For a tall, thin, quite young woman stood in his entryway. She had dark hair and when she turned to face him, he didn’t think he’d ever seen a more beautiful face in all his born days. Her eyes, even from several feet away, were twin green pools he could surely drown in. 

And Graham did not, as one might imagine, even think the word drown lightly.

And then she opened her mouth.

“Sir Graham?” And before he could even nod in agreement, she continued, the words spilling from her mouth in a torrent. “I’m so terribly sorry to arrive unannounced, but I really had no other option, and to be honest, if I’d sent notice, it probably would have arrived behind me, making it really quite moot, as I’m sure you’ll agree, and…”

Graham blinked, quite certain he was supposed to be following what she was saying, but unable to actually hear when one word ended and the next began.

“... a long journey, and I’m afraid I didn’t sleep, and so I must beg you to forgive my appearance and…”

His head was spinning. Would it be rude if he sat down?

“... didn’t bring very much, but I had no choice, and…”

This had gone on for far too long, with no sign of an imminent conclusion. If he allowed her to speak for one moment longer, he was quite certain he’d suffer from an inner ear imbalance, or she would soon swoon from lack of oxygen and hit her head on the marble floor. Either way, one of them would be injured and in debilitating pain.

“Madam,” he said, clearing his throat.

If she heard him, she gave no indication, instead commenting on the coach that had conducted her to his doorstep.

“Madam,” he said again, a little louder this time.

“... but then I…” She blinked her gorgeous green eyes at him and Graham felt decidedly unbalanced. “Yes?” she asked.

Now that he had her attention, he quite forgot the reason he’d sought it. “Er,” he mumbled, “who are you?”

She stared at him for a good five seconds, her full lips slightly open in surprise, before answering him. 

“I’m Ruby Jones, of course.”

Ruby was fairly certain she was talking too much, and she was definitely talking too fast, but she tended to do that when she was nervous and she was absolutely as nervous as she’d ever been in her life, because Sir Graham Humbert stood before her and he was not at all what she’d expected.

“You’re Ruby Jones?” 

She looked up into his disbelieving face and felt the first stirring of annoyance. “Of course, I am. Who else would I be?”

“I could not possibly imagine.”

“You did invite me,” she pointed out.

“And you did not respond to my invitation,” he replied.

She swallowed. He did have a point. A rather good one, if she wanted to be fair. Which she didn’t. Not at the moment, anyway.

“I… didn’t really have time to do so,” she hedged, then when it seemed that he required more explanation, she added, “as I mentioned earlier.”

He stared at her an inordinate amount of time before speaking. “I didn’t understand a word you said.”

Her mouth dropped open in… surprise? No. Annoyance. “Weren’t you listening?”

“I… tried…”

Ruby pursed her lips. “Very well, then.” She counted to five in her head. In Latin. “My apologies for arriving unannounced. It was terribly ill-bred of me.”

He was silent for a full three seconds - Ruby counted that as well - before replying. “I accept your apology.” He paused and Ruby cleared her throat. “And of course…” he coughed, glancing around the entry hall as if looking for someone to save him from the awkwardness of the situation, “I am delighted that you are here.”

It would probably be quite rude for her to point out that he appeared to be anything but delighted, so Ruby stood silently, trying to decide what she could say without insulting him. It was truly a sad state of affairs when she realized she couldn’t think of a blasted thing.

Sir Graham pointedly looked at her valaise sitting on the floor. “Is that… all your luggage?” he asked.

“Uh, yes,” she replied, perhaps a bit too hastily. “Yes,” she repeated, nodding her head decisively. “I didn’t really…” She cut herself off completely as it occurred to her that it might not be the best idea to reveal to Sir Graham that she’d essentially run away from home in order to visit him. After a brief pause, she cleared her throat and spoke again. “This is all I have.”

“Gunning,” Sir Graham shouted. The man appeared so quickly he must have been eavesdropping.

“Yes, sir?”

“Please prepare a room for Miss Jones.”

“I have already done so, sir,” the butler assured him.

Sir Graham’s cheeks colored slightly. “Very good. She will be staying…” he turned back toward her, a slightly confused and questioning look on his countenance. “How long will you be staying?” he asked.

“A fortnight?” It was more of a question than she would have liked, but it seemed like a reasonable amount of time for their purposes.

“A fortnight,” Sir Graham repeated, as if Gunning hadn’t heard her answer himself. “We will, of course, do everything in our power to make her stay as comfortable as possible.”

“Of course,” the butler agreed.

“Good.” Sir Graham looked around, seemingly quite at a loss of what to say or do next. Ruby had to admit that this first meeting was most inauspicious. She’d rather thought of him as similar in aspect to her brother David - jovial, charming, always knew exactly what to say to put anyone at ease. But in truth, Sir Graham looked most uncomfortable in her presence, and given that the purpose of this visit was to see if they would suit for marriage, Ruby was quite disappointed.

“Would you like to sit down?” Sir Graham blurted out.

“That would be most welcomed. Thank you,” she assured him, trying for a benign smile, but fearing she failed completely.

Sir Graham strode forward and offered her his arm. As she took it, a loud clearing of a throat sounded from behind them. Sir Graham scowled at the butler over his shoulder.

“Perhaps you’d like to order some refreshments?” Gunning asked. “A tea tray perhaps? With muffins?” He turned his attention more fully on Ruby before he continued. “Or if Miss Jones is hungry, I could have a more extensive breakfast prepared.”

“I… am hungry,” she admitted. “Breakfast would be lovely.” Ruby felt more than saw Sir Graham’s gaze on her as she smiled at a beaming Gunning.

“We’ll wait in the drawing room,” Sir Graham informed him before leading her from the hall into a tastefully decorated, but somewhat shabby room. Ruby looked around, eager to see how a man like Sir Graham lived. What he surrounded himself with. One could tell much about a person by the kind of home they lived in.

The room was neat, and very clean, but the furnishings inside looked worn. As if the owner was either short on funds or just didn’t care. The entire house had a vague neglected feel to it, but the grounds - she’d noticed as the carriage approached - were magnificent. Given that Sir Graham was a botanist, she wasn’t terribly surprised about the condition of the grounds, or the house.

The man clearly needed a wife.

Ruby sat on a striped green damask sofa and folded her hands in her lap. Sir Graham sat across from her in a matching chair, but couldn’t seem to get comfortable - crossing one leg over the other, then switching after just a few seconds. He wouldn’t meet her eyes, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here, and like he desperately wanted to curse. She smiled in what she hoped was an encouraging manner, waiting for him to engage her in conversation.

He cleared his throat. 

Ruby leaned forward, expectantly.

He cleared his throat again.

She coughed.

He cleared his throat once more.

“I’m sure breakfast may take a bit,” she said, with a brief smile. “Perhaps you should ring for some tea in the meantime?”

“Right,” he agreed. Rising quickly, he rang the bell and asked for a tea tray to be brought in as soon as possible.

Once he settled in his seat again, Ruby spoke. “I am terribly sorry for arriving unannounced,” she murmured, although she’d already said as much. Twice. But she couldn’t just sit there and not say anything. Sir Graham might be used to awkward silences, but Ruby was of the firm belief that silences were unnatural things, begging to be filled.

“It’s quite alright,” he replied.

“It really isn’t,” she interjected. “It was terribly ill-mannered of me, and I do apologize.”

He stared at her. To Ruby he looked almost startled. Perhaps at her frankness?

“Thank you,” he acknowledged. “It truly is no problem, I assure you. I was simply…”

“Surprised?”

“Yes,” he agreed.

Ruby cut her eyes away from him and shrugged. “Well, anyone would be. And I am truly sorry for the inconvenience.”

“It is no inconvenience,” he assured her. “Truly. I did invite you, after all.” Ruby heartily agreed with the sentiment, but she wasn’t about to say so and make an already awkward situation that much worse. He glanced out the window. “It’s a sunny day.”

“Mmm, yes,” she agreed.

“It will probably rain by nightfall, though.”

Ruby wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, so she kept her silence, simply observing him as he looked out the window. He was taller than she expected. His sandy colored curls gave him an almost boyish look that Ruby did find utterly charming, even if his mannerisms left much to be desired. He was rather rough around the edges. From his letters, she expected him to be more suave and charming than he had been so far in person. His eyes were a clear blue and she knew if she wasn’t careful, she could become utterly lost in them.

“Did you travel all night?” he asked, politely.

“I did, actually.”

“You must be tired.”

She nodded and fought the quite urgent need to yawn. “I am.”

Sir Graham stood immediately and motioned toward the door. “If you would prefer to rest, I don’t wish to hold you here…”

Ruby was exhausted, but she was also ravenously hungry. “I would actually like to eat something, first, if it is quite alright,” she interrupted. “Then I’d be very pleased to accept your hospitality and rest.”

He took his seat again and seemed to be casting about for something else to say. “Was your journey pleasant?”

Ruby had to give him credit for at least attempting to keep the conversation going. “It was. Thank you.” One good turn deserved another, she supposed. “You have a lovely home.” He gave her a look that told her plainly he didn’t believe her words for a minute. “The grounds are magnificent.” Who would have believed that a man would notice the condition of the furniture in his home? None of the men of Ruby’s acquaintance - including her four brothers - would have.

“Thank you,” he said. “As you know, I am a botanist, so I spend much of my time out of doors.”

“Were you planning on working outside today?”

He nodded.

“I am sorry for disrupting your schedule,” she apologized again, chagrined.

“You really don’t have need to keep apologizing,” he said softly. “For anything.” His words may have sounded a bit rude, but the gentle smile on his face belied that sentiment and Ruby found herself smiling back.

The silence descended again, with both of them looking around, hoping that either the tea tray would soon make an appearance or that Gunning himself would come through the door with the longed for announcement of breakfast. 

He didn’t.

Ruby opened her mouth to speak - with no idea of what might come out of it, but fully intending to make it up as she went along - when a high pitched scream pierced the awkward silence.

Ruby jumped to her feet. “What was that?”

Sir Graham released a ragged sigh. “My… children.”

Ruby’s jaw dropped. “Your… children?” she asked, incredulously, her head tilted slightly in disbelief. “You have children?”

He slowly rose to his feet. “Of course.”

She gaped at him. “You never said you had children.”

“I didn’t?” he asked, his face puzzled.

“No, you did not,” Ruby assured him.

“Hmmm, that’s odd.” Sir Graham’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her again. “Is that a problem?” he asked sharply.

“Of course it isn’t!” she exclaimed, bristling. “I’ve told you about all my nieces and nephews and I can assure you, I am their favorite aunt.”

“I’m sure I told you about my children,” he continued, his patronizing attitude only fanning the flames of her temper. “You must have overlooked it.”

“You most certainly did not tell me about your children, and I can prove it.”

He crossed his arms, waiting. Ruby marched out into the hallway to find her valaise.

“Where is my…”

“Probably already in your room,” Sir Graham interrupted. “My servants aren’t that inattentive.”

Ruby turned back to him, her blood boiling. “I have every single one of your letters in my valaise, and not one of them contains the words my children.”

Sir Graham’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “You saved my letters?”

“Of course. Didn’t you save mine?”

He blinked. “Uhhh…”

Ruby gasped. “You didn’t save them?”

Graham had never understood women and half the time was quite willing to put aside all current medical thought and simply declare them a separate species altogether. He fully accepted that he rarely knew what to say to them, but in this instance, even he knew he had blundered. Badly. 

“I’m sure I have some of them,” he tried.

Her jaw clamped down into an angry straight line.

“Most of them, I’m sure,” he added hastily.

She looked furious. Ruby Jones obviously possessed a formidable will.

“It’s not that I would have disposed of them,” he said, still trying to dig his way out of the pit in which he found himself. “I’m just not sure, precisely, where I would have stored them.”

He watched as Ruby gained control of her temper, though her eyes were still bright and angry. “Very well,” she said. “It hardly signifies, anyway.”

At least they agreed on one thing, though even Graham was smart enough not to say so. Besides, her tone completely belied her words. It obviously signified a great deal to her.

Another scream rent the air, followed by a loud crash. It sounded like furniture. Ruby looked to the ceiling, as if expecting a shower of plaster at any moment.

“Shouldn’t you go to them?” she asked.

Graham sighed. He should. But God above, he didn’t want to. When the twins were out of control, he found it easier to let them run wild until exhaustion overtook them. Thankfully, that usually didn’t take too terribly long. But as he was trying to woo - however clumsily thus far - the fair Miss Ruby Jones to his side in matrimony and into the position of mother to the two hellions currently trying to destroy his ancestral home brick by brick, it would not do to appear to be a disinterested parent.

With a nod at Miss Ruby Jones, he strode from the room and to the bottom of the stairs.

“Nicholas! Ava!” he bellowed.

A sound of shocked surprise burst out of Miss Jones, and Graham shot her a glare. He supposed she thought she could do better handling them. Although, truth be told, she probably could. God above, if she could get them to mind, he’d kiss the very ground she walked upon on a thrice daily schedule for as long as they both should live.

He hollered for the twins again and they suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs and descended with alacrity, not looking in the least chagrined.

“What,” Graham began, struggling to hold on to his temper, “was that?”

“What was what?” Nicholas asked, his eyes round and unblinking.

Graham could feel his nostrils flare indignantly. “The screaming.”

“That was Ava,” he informed him. Ava nodded enthusiastically.

Graham waited, his eyebrow raised in inquiry. When no further explanation seemed forthcoming, he asked them, “And why was Ava screaming?”

“It was a frog,” she explained.

“A frog.”

She nodded. “In my bed.”

“In your bed?” Graham asked, thoroughly confused. “How did it get there?” he asked, turning his eyes on Nicholas.

“I put it there,” Ava chirped, somewhat proudly in Graham’s opinion.

Graham blinked. “You. Put the frog in your own bed. Did I hear you correctly?”

Both twins nodded.

Why why why? He cleared his throat. “Why?” he asked aloud.

“I wanted to.”

Graham turned his gaze to heaven. “You wanted to.” Was there some maddening echo in the room?

“I wanted to grow tadpoles.”

“In your bed?”

She nodded vigorously. “It seemed warm and cozy.”

“I helped,” Nicholas informed him, apparently tired of being left out of the conversation.

Graham sighed. “Of that I have no doubt. But why did you scream?”

“I didn’t, Ava did,” Nicholas informed him indignantly.

“I know that! I was asking her!” Graham exclaimed, barely keeping himself from throwing up his hands in surrender and escaping to his greenhouse.

“You were looking at me, sir,” Nicholas said. “When you asked the question.”

Graham took a deep breath and schooled his features into what he hoped was a patient expression. “Why, Ava, did you scream?”

“I forgot I put it in there,” she replied.

“I thought she was going to die,” Nicholas added, with all the dramatics he could muster.

Graham decided not to pursue that particular statement. He crossed his arms across his chest and leveled his sternest face at his children. “I thought,” he began, “that we had agreed, no frogs in the house.”

Both children shook their heads vehemently. Graham raised an eyebrow in question. “We agreed no toads,” Nicholas said.

“No amphibians of any kind,” Graham said between clenched teeth.

“But what if one of them is dying?” Ava asked, her green eyes filling with tears.

“Not even then.”

“But…”

“You may tend to it outside.”

“Where it’s cold and freezing and it only needs a little warmth and care inside the house?”

“Frogs are supposed to be cold and freezing,” Graham exclaimed. “That's why they’re amphibians!”

“But what if…”

“NO!” he bellowed. “No frogs, toads, crickets, grasshoppers, or animals of any kind in the house!”

Ava started gasping for air and Nicholas’ eyes were round with alarm. “But but but… what about Bessie?”

“Oh, for the love of…” he caught himself before he blasphemed and tried not to roll his eyes. He didn’t know what to say to his children on the best of occasions, of which, this was most certainly not, but now his daughter looked as if she might dissolve into a puddle of tears. He would have liked very much for a wall to sag against at this moment. “Naturally, I did not mean for our beloved spaniel to be included in that statement.”

“Well, I wish you had said so,” she sniffed. “You made me very sad.” Nicholas nodded in agreement.

Graham shut his eyes briefly. How had he lost control of the conversation so quickly and thoroughly? “I’m sorry I made you sad.” He would have thought a man of his size, and, he hoped, intellect, would be able to manage two eight-year-olds, but no. Despite his best intentions, the tables were turned, and he was apologizing to them.

Nothing made him feel more like a failure.

“Right then,” he said briskly, eager to be done with the confrontation. “Run along. I’m very busy.”

They stood there for a moment, just looking up at him with wide unblinking eyes. “All day?” Nicholas asked.

“All day?” Graham repeated. What the devil was he talking about?

“Are you going to be busy all day?” he asked again.

“Yes,” he said sharply.

“We could go on a nature hike,” Ava suggested.

“I can’t today,” Graham replied, although he did want to. But the twins were so vexing, they were sure to make him lose his temper and there was nothing that frightened him more.

“We could help you in the greenhouse,” Nicholas added.

Destroy was more like it. “No,” Graham said. He honestly didn’t think he could answer to his temper if they ruined his work.

“But…”

“I can’t,” he snapped, hating the tone of his own voice.

“But…”

“And who is this?” came a voice from behind him. A voice belonging to a woman he had nearly forgotten about. Now his ire was directed toward her, poking her nose in a situation that was none of her concern, and this after arriving on his doorstep without a word of warning.

“I beg your pardon,” he said, turning to her and not bothering to hide his irritation.

She ignored him and focused her attention on the twins.

“And who might you be?” she asked.

“Who are you?” Nicholas demanded right back. Ava’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

Graham crossed his arms and tried to smother the smile that wanted to break through. Yes, he thought, let’s see how Miss Jones handles this.

“I am Miss Jones,” she introduced herself.

“You’re not our new governess, are you?” Nicholas asked, with a surprising amount of venom in his tone.

“Heavens no!” Miss Jones exclaimed. “What happened to your last governess?”

Graham coughed. Loudly.

“Er, nothing,” the twins intoned, in unison.

Miss Jones looked like she didn’t believe their assurances for a moment, but she wisely chose not to pursue it and simply stated, “I am your guest.”

The twins pondered that for a moment, and then Ava said, “We don’t want any guests.”

Followed by Nicholas’s “We don’t need any guests.”

“Children!” Graham interjected, shocked by their rudeness. He didn’t necessarily want to be taking Miss Jones’ side after she poked her nose where it didn’t belong, but he couldn’t allow his children to behave this way.

The twins folded their arms over their chests and refused to look at her.

“That’s it,” Graham boomed. “You will apologize to Miss Jones, at once!”

They stared at her mutinously.

“NOW!” he roared.

“Sorry,” they both mumbled, but only an imbecile would believe they meant it.

“Back to your room, both of you,” he said sternly.

They marched off like a pair of proud soldiers. It would have been rather impressive if Ava hadn’t ruined the effect by turning at the top of the stairs and sticking her tongue out at Miss Jones, before running away as quickly as a fox.

Graham stood at the bottom of the stairs, very still for several moments, struggling to keep himself under control. Just once, JUST ONCE, he would like his children to behave. And mind. And be polite to guests. And not stick out their tongues…

Just once he’d like to feel like a good father, and that he knew what he was doing.

Just once he’d like to not raise his voice. He hated when he raised his voice, hated the flash of terror he imagined he saw in their eyes when he did. Hated the memories it brought back.

“Sir Graham?”

He closed his eyes in frustration. He’d nearly forgotten she was there. 

“Yes?” he asked, turning toward her, mortified that she’d witnessed his humiliation.

“The tea tray has arrived,” she informed him gently.

He gave her a curt nod. He needed to get out of the house. Away from his children. Away from this woman who’d just seen him at his worst. It had started to rain, but he didn’t care.

“I hope you enjoy your breakfast,” he bit out. “I’ll see you after you have rested.” With that, he all but ran out the front door to his greenhouse where he’d be surrounded by his non-speaking, non-misbehaving, and non-meddlesome plants.

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! I'll be posting on Saturday's from here on out!

[rebelwrites]

Graham Humbert Oneshots || Imagines

You Saved Yourself

The road to recovery is long but Graham is there every step of the way.

[shireness-says]

Coming Soon: Seeking Shelter, Seeking Solace

1895. Emma Swan answers an ad in the paper from a man looking for a wife in order to flee Boston - only to arrive in rural Storybrooke, Minnesota and discover that her intended husband is dead. Left with no other options, Emma takes a position at the local tavern alongside the sullen, dark-haired barkeep with demons of his own. But what will she do when the forces she’s worked so hard to escape reappear in the new life she’s building, forcing her to turn to this unlikely savior for aid?

Presenting my contribution to @csjanuaryjoy​! Which, true to form, has spiraled from an anticipated 15k for the whole fic to 10k for one chapter, and the other two unfinished. I promise some delicious marriage of convenience, pining, and even some action. This will begin posting in a few days, so let me know if you want to be tagged! In the meantime, enjoy this preview:

Emma can’t help but fidget in her seat as her train tears across the Midwestern landscape. Though this was her choice, she still can’t help but be nervous; after all, this is a very different world from Boston, the only home she’s ever known. She’s used to bustling streets and the lap of the waves against the docks at the harbor, not these miles after miles of plains and crop fields. It’s almost enough to make her second guess this whole thing.

It’s not a mistake though, she knows. She’d needed to get out of Boston, as quickly as possible, and this had been the best of a variety of bad options. Emma has never been particularly romantic, even as a little girl, but in the few imaginings she’d allowed herself of her future, answering a newspaper ad for a wife had never factored in. Then again, her fantasies had never anticipated the particular situation she’s trying to escape: a man who wouldn’t hear no, who was willing to pursue her relentlessly, from city to city, always a threat on her tail. The security of marriage, and of distance, had only made sense. And then again, she’s never been sentimental ; true love isn’t something she anticipated in a union, or even particularly believed in, for that matter. 

The man she’s travelling to meet seems kind, she consoles herself with knowing. Emma hadn’t been particularly picky in selecting a man from the handful of querants in the paper, but Graham Humbert seems to be a good one. He’s the sheriff of a small town in Minnesota, who found himself lonely and wanting companionship.

I can darn my own socks and cook my own dinner, though neither with any exemplary skill, he had written. I’m not looking for someone to look after me in that way, regardless of what my friends’ wives think; I’d hire a lady to do the cleaning if that was the issue. I’m searching for someone to speak with at the end of a long day, someone to listen and to laugh with. I don’t believe myself to be a sweeping romantic, but I will be happy to give and receive a kind of gentle affection. Maybe we can come to love each other in time; I would be happy with that too, though I am not counting on it. 

She’d liked that about him, that amiable practicality so evident even in his letters. It’s what had made her agree to travel to Minnesota with the intent to marry him, really - the feeling that they viewed a union in the same way. There will be a trial period, of course, a month during which to decide whether the two of them will suit each other before anything is formalized - but Emma is determined to make it work. What other choice does she have?

The train will be pulling into Storybrooke soon - a tiny dot on the map, where Emma doubts anyone else will be alighting. All of her belongings have been tightly packed into two measly carpetbags in order to, hopefully, start a new life. Maybe it’s foolish, but Emma had splurged on a new, sleek jacket before she’d left the city, a cheery blue to pair with her navy skirt and white blouse in an attempt to impress. Mostly, she wants to look neat more than anything else: a capable woman, one who won’t be afraid to adapt to a new life with a minimum of fuss, one who won’t make Sheriff Humbert’s life more difficult. Pretty is of secondary concern.

She sees the town coming long before the train pulls into the tiny station, roofs and chimneys rising above the flat landscape and copious corn fields. Somewhere in this state, she knows, are hundreds and thousands of lakes; however, they’re nowhere to be seen here. Storybrooke itself is a bare cluster of buildings seeming to group around a single main street, with homesteads and farm plots doubtlessly stretching out to the surrounding area. It’s a whole different world from what she’s used to, but that’s the entire point, really; no one will think to look for her here, in the rural midwest as the wife of a sheriff. 

When the train finally pulls into what passes for a station, a single cramped building with barely enough room for a ticket office and a luggage closet, a man is waiting on the platform, sheltered from the late-spring sun by an awning off the station roof. The star-shaped badge on his coat and the way he shifts nervously from foot to foot make Emma think this must be the anticipated Sheriff Humbert. His hair is rather more golden than the sandy blonde-brown color Mr. Humbert had tried to describe in his letters, but Emma supposes that’s to be expected. She likely didn’t give a perfect description of her appearance either. 

Quickly, she gathers her bags and alights to the station platform with the assistance of a young porter. The man waiting quickly doffs his hat, playing with the brim in another nervous gesture. “Miss Swan?”

Carefully, Emma arranges her face into something she hopes passes as an amiable smile. “Yes, that’s me. And you’ll be Sheriff Humbert, I presume?”

“I - well, no,” the man who isn’t Graham Humbert stutters out. “I’m David Nolan, actually. One of the deputies here.”

Unexpected - but there are countless excellent reasons that Deputy Nolan might be sent instead. Trouble can happen even in a small town, dozens of minor disputes that can somehow only be settled by the sheriff himself. “In that case, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Nolan. I must admit, I was expecting Mr. Humbert. Pardon my mistake.”

“About that —” Deputy Nolan cuts himself off, looking curiously uncomfortable. It sets Emma a bit on edge, but there’s no way to dance around it - not when she doesn’t have all the information.

“Yes?”

Deputy Nolan swallows heavily, visibly, his fingers tightening around the brim of his hat again before he drags his eyes to meet hers. “I’m sorry to tell you, Miss Swan, but Graham - Sheriff Humbert - died two days ago.”

Of all the things she thought he might say, all the ways she imagined this might go, that certainly wasn’t one of them.

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Lucky - Graham Humbert

Pairing: Graham Humbert x Reader

Characters: Graham Humbert, Ruby Lucas

Warnings: N/A

Request: N/A

Word Count: 501

Author: Hannah

It was somewhat difficult living in a town where everyone knew everyone.

You couldn’t have your own privacy, or even your own thoughts, without someone trying to figure you out.

Obviously, it got old very quickly.

You found yourself constantly trying to ignore people, to get away, and for the most part it managed to work.

In Storybrooke, you were known as the quiet one, the one that no one really ever noticed, the one that kept to themselves.

That was, until, the town realised that you were in a relationship with their ever so beloved sheriff.

Graham had been your boyfriend for a little under four months, and the two of you had desperately tried to keep it under wraps but to no avail.

Ruby had noticed the two of you walking down the street holding hands one evening; since then it had spread like wildfire.

Graham didn’t mind it so much but there were times when he craved the privacy just as you did.

It wasn’t even as if it was so much to ask – just to want your own space from time to time.

Unfortunately, that never seemed to be the case in your town.

You and Graham didn’t live together, of course, but you spent a lot of time at his place.

He was yet to finish at the station but you were still walking to his house as he had given you a key.

As you were walking, Ruby popped up next to you. “Hi Y/N!”

You smiled at her. “Hi Ruby.”

“So…how’re things?” she quizzed whist she chewed her gum.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Things are fine. How about with you?”

She rolled her eyes at you. “Oh, come on, not what I meant,” she stated. “How are things with the Sheriff?”

You shrugged once again, not wanting to answer her.

“Well...uhh…have fun then,” she stated once she realised you weren’t actually going to tell her anything.

As you waved goodbye to her, you reached Graham’s house and unlocked the front door.

You were surprised to see your boyfriend fast asleep on his sofa – his sheriff jacket over the back of the sofa, his legs dangling over the one end and a cushion under his head.

Attempting not to wake him, you made your way over to the sofa and crouched down next to him.

“Sherriff!” you yelled down his ear.

Your shouting caused your boyfriend to awake with a start and fall off of the sofa, resulting in you having fits of laughter.

When Graham eventually come to, he was still on the floor but on his front and staring at the floor.

“Remind me why I gave you a key,” he grumbled as his voice was muffled by the close proximity to the floor.

“Because I’m your girlfriend and you love me?”

He chuckled, moving to sit up properly, “You’re lucky I love you.”

You rolled your eyes, moving to crouch down in front of him again, “Oh Honey, you’re lucky to have me.”

[storminmyveinsarchived]

Since my brain is absolute Bridgerton trash right now, imagine with me the following scenarios. 

~*The Mikaelsons , a wealthy family born of fortune and notoriety. Freya has already given up on the idea of finding a husband and marrying and Finn, well, decided to not partake at all in this nonsense leaving it all up to Elijah who must not only find a suitable husband for Rebekah but a wife for himself. All of this while trying to keep his brothers , Kol and Klaus out of various sorts of trouble. Let’s not forget that while Rebekah would more than adore having a husband and family, she wants there to be love, not just duty which in itself tends to complicate matters in a society such as this. 

~* Will Scarlet, by no means an obvious choice considering the family he comes from but hired by a man of means to make himself look good to the lady he wishes to pursue. Get someone in there who is a total idiot and make him look like a catch? Will Scarlet is more than happy to take on the job as his family could use the money. However he ends up falling for the young lady and she her, and the story eventually unwinds. 

~* The Tremaines, oh boy the Tremaines would be almost like the Featheringtons, I believe. Needing to marry off the daughters for money and wealth since their head of house passed on leaving them to fend for themselves. But of course having better luck in that regard as Ella would no doubt nab herself a prince, but the other two are up for debate. (I also still need to find a face for Driz I like...anyway)

~*Then of course, Graham Humbert, someone who appears to have no wealth to his name and frowned upon by society catching the eye of the seasons Diamond which of course is not a good thing but what no one knows is that Graham Humbert is actually of a royalty line! Woohoohoo...drama. 

I don’t have the caffeine in me to keep typing but you get the general idea.