#lady marjorie manners

[stigmatam4rtyr]

Lady Marjorie Manners (1900) | James Jebusa Shannon

[life-imitates-art-far-more]

James Jebusa Shannon (1862-1923) "Lady Marjorie Manners" (1900) Oil on canvas

[rdr2gifs]

Each time Arthur has helped someone without expecting payment (that I can remember) because I’ve seen some weird takes circling around about how Arthur only cares about money/doesn’t help people (yet again)

He helped a city photographer take pictures and acted as his protector because he liked him

He helped a doctor retrieve a stolen wagon full of medicine, he wasn’t even asked to do so, he did it out of his own good will

He wanted to make an old cranky man happy and proposed finding his lost trinkets for him

He helped Deborah MacGuiness find dinosaur bones out of curiosity. He didn’t receive any financial reward for it. Just a few trinkets and he was satisfied

He risked his life for Marko Dragic’s experiments (his main motivation in this mission was again, curiosity)

He rescued a boy being held hostage by the gunsmith in Rhodes

He rescued people from being trafficked and gave them a large sum of money (he could’ve kept it for himself) for a better life

He helped Mr. White and Mr. Black gain freedom and even helped them again after they got themselves into trouble

He rescued Charles Chatenay on at least 3 different occasions

He instantly hurried to retrieve Sister Calderon’s cross even though he has never met her before

In his first encounter with Marjorie and Bertram, he helps to calm Bertram down and is understanding even though Bertram gave him trouble. He even puts the bartender in his place after he speaks about Bertram in a degrading manner

He agreed to help a man get rid of nigh folk occupying his property and after he payed him with only a rat pelt, Arthur didn’t get angry and still asked him if he’d be really fine on his own after knowing he wouldn’t be able to pay

He let a homeless man hug him and listened to what he has to say

He helped to save Jamie from becoming a cult member and stopped him from taking his life

He helped a boy look for his lost dog

He saved an injured man’s life after driving him to a doctor

He helped a woman get rid of a body after she claimed she had to kill the man in self-defence

He donated to the poor and even to build a shelter for war-veterans

He taught Charlotte how to survive on her own

He tried to save a crazed village out of his own good will

He helped a war veteran retrieve his prosthetic leg and helped him hunt

He helped a man look for his lost friend in the snowy mountains

He helped Rain’s Fall retrieve sacred items important to his people

He helped to retrieve stolen medical supplies for the Wapiti tripe

He saved Captain Monroe’s life after hearing he was in danger

He helped Beau and Penelope escape from their terrible families

He has saved many hunters from getting mauled, given many ladies a ride home, saved people from dying of poisoning, helped gather herbs, helped a lost New Yorker find his way to the town, helped save many people’s lives (lady being held hostage in her own house in Lemoyne, folk getting tortured by The Murfees or Lemoyne Raiders etc.)

Let’s not forget the fact that Arthur is a provider for over 20 people. He cannot be running around and risking his life for free for everyone he meets. He needs money. Even so, he has helped all the people above for no reward and out of his own free will. When I see someone say that Arthur is only motivated by money and never helps people otherwise, I just instantly assume they stormed through the story and didn’t pay any attention. The encounters listed above make up the majority of chance encounters/side quests and in almost all of them he is helping people. 80% of these are also pre-diagnosis.

He has a hard time accepting any compliments or gratitude for his good deeds and always downplays himself. Even in the main story he is never thinking about himself and he always puts others first.

“You did not ask for anything, you only gave”

The encounters where he does require payment pale in comparison to those in which he doesn’t, and even so they are very justified as they are often dangerous, time consuming or straight up ridiculous. It’s weird to assume Arthur only helps people for money when he doesn’t want to deliver love letters, interview dangerous people and sneak into heavily guarded properties for free.

[random-brushstrokes]

James Jebusa Shannon - Lady Marjorie Manners (1910)

[hotvintagepoll]

by my count eleven actresses who appeared in the women are competing in this tournament: norma shearer, joan crawford, rosalind russell, paulette goddard, joan fontaine, marjorie main, ruth hussey, theresa harris, lilian bond, betty blythe, and of course, terry

Yes!

If you'd like to watch The Women for yourself, you can currently stream it on Tubi for free. I recommend this movie in a general sense, as it's a fun time if you like watching very rich, bad white women be rich and bad—think a Kardashians or Real Housewives situation but with a bunch of 1930s dames who want to chew the scenery. But I need to add the warning that this film has a very problematic relationship with the WOC in it, including hot lady contestant Theresa Harris (who plays a maid). The only Black women depicted are servants, most of them are not in speaking roles, and the few that have lines are depicted as racist caricatures (also, one is talked about in a racist manner by a few white characters in one scene). These scenes and interactions don't take up a lot of the running time, but they're still there, and I won't fault anyone for not wanting to watch it because of that.

[alexusonfire]

Warmth of Your Doorways - Chapter Four

Jane Murdstone x dressmaker!Reader

A/n: In collaboration with bestie @daydream-cement and beta'd by @knives-beat-scotts-ass 🧡

Summary: Pure adoration.

Jane ducked around the back alleyway, unable to hide her growing smile as she crept closer to your workplace. To say she was smitten was an understatement. She was completely, unequivocally in love. 

Marjory had told her frequently over the past three weeks that Jane seemed to be an entirely new woman. Not often was there a moment where Jane wasn’t smiling or humming to herself as she embroidered or read, her thoughts often wandering over to you and the sweet love she had for you. 

Most late mornings, when she didn’t have to attend to Marjory, Jane would sneak over to your workplace for a visit, bringing you lunch and keeping you company as you sowed. More often than not, you would become fully distracted by her presence, enraptured by your conversation and affections. Recently, you had taken up increasingly feverish acts of physical affection, hands roaming and lips wandering in the most delightful manner. 

Slowly, Jane unlatched the back door, ducking into the back room where the fabric was all stored. She tried to move as quietly as possible, not wanting to alert the matron of her presence. Glancing around the corner towards Mary’s office, Jane sighed in relief when the Scot was nowhere to be found. 

"Darling?" Jane called out quietly, looking about for your familiar form, "little violet, where are you?"

Hearing a soft giggle to her left, she made her way into the main dressing area, pleased to find you sat on a stool, hard at work as per usual. She sighed in relief, the sight of you alone too delicious to pass up-

"I thought I told ye you could use the front door Jane. No point in sneaking about now. And a hello would be nice every once in a while."

Well. Almost alone.

"Apologies, Matron. I'll be sure to greet you sufficiently next time."

Mary laughed, a full bodied sound, whilst you rolled your eyes and tossed a pin her way.

"Leave her be Mary! Tease her too much and she may well not come back!"

Mary shot you a knowing look, picking up the pin and pointing it in your direction.

"Can't see that happening as long as you're here lass. She's smitten with you she is."

Jane shuffled, uncomfortable with being spoken about as though she weren't in the room, but hesitant to leave. You hadn't been able to visit eachother yesterday, both entirely too busy with your respective tasks, and Jane had been more than looking forward to seeing your face all morning.

"Alright alright, I can feel Jane's glare burning a hole in the side of my head, I'll be upstairs if you need anything."

Mary nodded her head in Jane's direction, Jane returning the farewell before quickly making her way to your side, dipping down to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

"I'm sorry about Mary. She really does like you, I promise. She wouldn't get after you if she didn't."

"Nevermind sweeting, I missed you too much to care much about anything else. Do you have a moment for a break?"

Your heart fluttered at her admission, and you took her hand in yours to press light kisses to each of her knuckles before responding.

"For you, my Lady, always."

Cheeks now pinked, Jane pulled you up to her and hid her face in your neck, melting into your embrace as you wrapped your arms around her and carded your fingers gently through her hair, careful not to ruffle it.

"Did you bring some lunch for yourself as well? I'd love for you to join me."

She nodded, pecking your lips before unwrapping the small lunches she'd packed, you clearing away your table and workbench to make room. The little sandwiches Jane had made were delightful, but not nearly as wonderful as spending an hour whispering sweet nothings and flirting with her. Huddled together on your workbench, you leaned your head on her shoulder, listening to a synopsis of your love’s day from yesterday.

Jane held her sandwich low, hands resting in her lap, her lips in your hair as she murmured an invitation, “Marjory is throwing a ball in a few nights… She told me to invite you to keep me company as I do not wish to attend. We could enjoy an… evening together, if you wish of course.”

“As if I could ever reject an offer from you Janey, but why do you wish to not attend?” your own question bookended with bites of your sandwich.

“I thought it would be a wonderful excuse to spend an evening with you…”

Jane’s cheeks turned pink at her own response, her attention quickly turning back to her own lunch to cover her embarrassment. As you continued eating, you only smiled at Jane’s sweet statement, mind fogging with the pure adoration for Jane.

“I would love to keep you company, darling.”

Loving silence overcame the space between Jane and you once more, her foot gently tapping yours as she chewed happily. You felt as if the past few weeks were something out of a dream. From the stolen kisses in evenings spent late in Jane’s cottage to your regular walks through the gardens, all of the love you felt from Jane was entirely unexpected, but absolutely adored.

With your sandwiches gone, you were quickly enraptured by Jane’s attention and grasp once more, her arms curling around your form, drawing you close enough for her lips to attach to your neck.

"Jane… I am still at work y'know…" you giggled, adoring the attention nonetheless. Jane merely hummed, continuing to kiss and nip at your neck, her hands wandering down to your waist to pull you even closer. Finally her lips met yours and the world spun, you needing to cling to Jane's shoulders just to stay upright. You'd barely noticed Jane's fingers quickly pulling up your skirts, exposing your ankle, then shin, then knee, her hand sliding down behind your thigh to-

"Ladies! Not in here."

Matron Mary's voice brought you both crashing back down to earth, and you nearly fell off your stool pushing back from Jane. Jane on the other hand shot Mary her finest of glares, upset at what she considered to be a rather rude intrusion.

"Y/n, you should get back to work else you'll be running behind again. Jane, you're welcome to stay but please keep it godly in here."

With a huff Mary disappeared once more, leaving behind two very flustered women. You sheepishly moved back to your stool and the dress you'd been working on, picking up the previously discarded needle to begin again.

"You… are welcome to stay Janey. But only if you'd like."

The nickname made Jane smile; oddly enough, considering if anyone else dared call her it she'd have their heads. She pulled up a cozier chair near you, settling in as she pulled a book from her bag.

"How about I read a bit to help pass the time?"

You nodded eagerly, allowing Jane's soothing tones to wash over you as you placed some finishing touches. The afternoon passed quickly this way, easing into evening where you could finally spend time wrapped in each other's arms without fear of disruption.

Jane had chosen to stay at yours, seeing as she had the following day off. While you were happy to have her with you, a thought had been nagging your brain as of late, especially after the events of this afternoon.

“I was thinking and… well, Mary might have a point, Janey…” Gently you set the tea tray on the table before Jane, your hands nervously sliding down the front of your dress. Broaching this particular subject was stressful in nature; you didn't want to seem like you were rejecting Jane’s affections, but both of your reputations could be at stake. “Our… adoration seems to be getting out of hand. A patron could have walked in and caught us at any moment and, while I have no qualms about our… lifestyle… others may not share the same views…”

Jane’s attention had been drawn from the novel in her hands, her eyes starting at your hips and hungrily climbing up your form until they reached your face. You knew the passion you held for one another should only belong to that of married couples, but the moment Jane’s lips touched yours, you lost all sense.

“Your fears are rational, my love. I can attempt to restrain myself, but even as I gaze upon you now, I know restraint will be a challenge in the future.”

“Janey…” You give a small whine, trying to hide your smile. It was hard to stay firm with her when you had never felt such adoration and care before.

The ravenette closed her book, using her index finger to mark her page while her other hand reached out, gesturing for you to come to her, “Give me all the love and attention in the world now and I’ll see if I have the capacity to contain myself in the midst of such beauty.”

Circling the table, you come to stand before Jane, her hands coming to rest on your hips. Her hands slowly turned you before winding around your waist, drawing your body against hers so you are now sitting in her lap. Soon her book was open again in front of you, her melodic voice reading out the poetry to you as she nuzzled her head against yours.

It was deep April, and the morn

Shakespeare was born;

The world was on us, pressing sore;

My love and I took hands and swore,

Against the world, to be

Poets and lovers evermore,

To laugh and dream on Lethe's shore,

To sing to Charon in his boat,

Heartening the timid souls afloat;

Of judgment never to take heed,

But to those fast-locked souls to speed,

Who never from Apollo fled,

Who spent no hour among the dead;

Continually

With them to dwell,

Indifferent to heaven and hell.

As always, Jane's voice stirred something in you, especially the deep timbre she adopted as she read aloud. Though you were want to focus on the poems, you couldn't help when your lips met the soft skin beneath her chin, then jawline, then earlobe…

"You're distracting me, little violet. How am I supposed to read like this?"

Her voice was low, but playful, and you could see her lips twitching in an attempt to hide her smirk. She tilted her head to meet your gaze, pupils nearly as blown as yours.

"Perhaps… perhaps I don't wish for you to read anymore."

"Oh? And what would you rather I do?"

Your lips met hers in a bit of a frenzy, eager to continue your activities from earlier in the day. Jane wasted no time in tossing her book to the side and wrapping her arms around your waist, shifting you to straddle her. Excited with your new position, you gently pressed your tongue to Jane's lips, silently asking permission; never one to say no to you, or this, Jane granted it, soft moans filling each other's mouths. As she had done before, she slowly lifted your skirts up, cupping the soft flesh of your thigh and making you whine; before she could move her hand any further, you placed your fingers on her wrist, halting her.

"Jane, I-"

"It's alright, dearest," Jane reassured, her breath coming in short pants, "I'm not quite ready either."

You smiled, thankful she understood. Hoping you hadn't ruined the moment entirely, you placed a gentle kiss on her lips and posed an offer.

"Would... would you like to stay the night still? I do desire to wake up to you."

“Please…” she whispered. Please with her answer, you slowly rose from her lap, pulling her by her hands so she would follow suit.

Jane was like a moth to a flame as she followed after you. She was mesmerized when your hands dropped hers and shifted to your own bodice, hands gently unfurling the laces to reveal your chemise. It was amusing how frantically (and clumsily) Jane removed her outer garments. The woman before you was tripping over herself to get into bed with you.

The ravenette was in such a rush, she noticed a fraction of a second too late that you had stopped at the edge of the bed, her body falling into yours, causing the both of you to go tumbling back on the bed.

“Oh, sweeting! I’m so-”

Jane was on the verges of frantically apologizing when you began laughing. The entire moment was far too sweet for you to ever be mad about her falling into you. At the sound of your own laugh, Jane began to laugh as well. There you laughed together, blissfully enjoying one another’s company until slumber began calling both of your names.

Your love wrapped her arms around you, gently maneuvering you to rest your head on the pillows at the top of the bed.

Never had you been this close to Jane before. It made you impossibly nervous, yet desperately in love, all at the same time. Your bodies pressed together in your small bed, the feeling of her breasts against yours was evident through the thin fabric of your undresses. But there was one thing stopping you from unraveling at the feeling of her pressed against you, and that was the view of her face.

Jane’s eyes wandered your features, slowly memorizing you from hairline to chin. Never had she expected to fall this hard or this quickly, but God save her she was hopelessly in love with you.

This level of intimacy was foreign to you, and you knew at that moment, you didn’t wish to share it with anyone other than Jane Murdstone.

Her hand gingerly reached out, tucking a few stray hairs behind your ear, her voice so fragile you thought it might break, “I love you, sweeting.”

“I love you, Janey…” You mumble, your face turning towards her hand, pressing a feather-light kiss to her palm.

You couldn’t remember how long you laid in silence, sleepily admiring one another, but at some point you had drifted off to sleep, Jane quickly following in succession after she had blown out the candles and stoked the fire to keep you warm through the night.

When Jane returned to bed, she pulled you to her chest, your head tucked under her chin. Jane’s heart swelled in her chest as she tried to fully conceptualize how much she loved you. Though she had only known you a short while, Jane couldn’t conceptualize a future without you, more so she wouldn’t think of a future without you at her side. In all her years, she had never felt so happy, so full of life.

For the first time in Jane’s life, she had the privilege of falling asleep with someone she loved endlessly.

[fareehaandspaniards]

Associations post

While I am doing big Laurence post, I found out that lots of paintings for me have strong vibes and references for certain characters. If I will write big text again - I swear I fall asleep, so just a post for me to have as reference in future

Anne of Cleves for Rom

Saint John drawn by Sandro Botticelli and angel drawn by Filippino Lippi for young Laurence

THIS ADORABLY LOOKING MAN - ‘Hans Tucher’ by Albrecht Durer for DAMIAN OF MENSIS GKLNSKJRGTNSKEJHFTKJEA AAAAAA *girly screaming* I LOVE THIS PAINTING FOR YEARS YOU CAN'T IMAGINE HOW MUCH

Oswolt Krel by Durer oooooooooohohhhhhh for Sir Gremia and I I II I I.... (not a reference tbh! My Gremia has different face shapes. But MOOD. THE VIBE. AAAAH)

A man with leather belt by Gustave Corbet for Ludwig

Lady Marjorie Manners (1883–1946), Later Marchioness of Anglesey by James Jebusa Shannon  as Saint Adeline! For long time I tried not to think that she is black-haired but... Lady fell in love with Bicolash in my head and I can't get rid of this headcanon now

Hans Holbein the Younger - "Sketch of unudentified woman" for Adella

I think I will add more later! :0

[wexhappyxfew]

sweet-talking silver bullets

I in fact have never been normal about anything ever so enjoy a hodgepodge of MOTA OCs I've developed just because. You might've met Annie Bradshaw (who was Annie Chattaway) in another prompt request a few weeks back, but I wanted to do some more with her....and then I gave her a new position, changed her last name, and added an intriguing plot for some ideas, so....enjoy the introduction to some of the crew of Silver Bullets, and Annie, who is trying to navigate a crew who is suffering from a heavy loss, plus some John-squared (Egan and Brady)!

"You must be the new LT, huh?" a voice said from her left; turning sharply to her right, she noticed a woman sat at the bar, a cigarette hanging from her lip, and sad, downturned eyes staring at a piece of paper in front of her. Annie looked around briefly, slightly confused by the sudden addressing of herself, but then nodded - the woman couldn't see it evidently but it was out of habit - and stepped forward.

"Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw, just in from Fort Des Moines," Annie said, outstretching a hand forward to the woman, who glanced up from the piece of paper and then quickly shook her hand before turning and looking away again, "I'm-"

"Sorry for your loss." the woman said, glancing her way, "Yeah, we've gotten that quite a lot."

Annie went quiet and shut her eyes for a moment. She sucked in a deep breath before clearing her throat.

"You must be….?" Annie started, trying to see if this woman was who she thought she was.

"Francis Montez," she said with a nod, "Lieutenant. I was Faulkner's copilot."

"From what I heard, you landed the plane beautifully," Annie said with a firm tone, "it was brave of you to do." Montez glanced at her and pulled the cigarette from her lip.

"I didn't have a choice now, did I?" Montez muttered, before folding the paper and standing to her rather tall height and blowing smoke from her lips, "The rest of the girls are around. You'll meet 'em all soon enough." And with that, Montez was wavering away, disappearing between the folds of men in uniform and Clubmobile ladies. Annie remembered seeing the article - the day the 100th lost Captain Birdie Faulkner, the day her 2nd Lieutenant Francis Montez risked every inch of herself to get her, the plane and the crew to safety. The day she got the call to report to Thorpe Abbotts. Annie slowly leaned up against the bar and let out a breath.

"Lieutenant….uh….Bradshaw?" Annie looked up and found a shorter woman, with bright, blue eyes and beautifully curled, blonde hair stood in front of her, lips painted a deep cherry red, a careening smile on her face, "Margie Harlowe, put her there." Margie had her hand stretched out in front of her to shake, pristine uniform on point for all to see, and those bright eyes to match. Annie offered a pinprick of a smile and nodded, shaking her hand firmly before putting her hands in the pockets of the jacket over her own uniform.

"Real name's Marjorie, but…I don't know, Margie became easier to yell through comms thousands of feet in the air." she said with a growing grin, "Really a pleasure that you're here. I know Harding's been trying to get another one of you pilots in for days now. Scrambling and all."

"It's a pleasure to be here," Annie said quickly, her nerves bubbling over at the worst of times, before recognizing her manners, "Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw. Just in from Fort Des Moines, hopped one of the newer birds to get over here as quick as I could." Margie let out a barking laugh and crossed her arms, throwing her head back like it were the best joke in the world.

"Fort Des Moines, you say that funny, where you from?" Margie asked her and then held up her hands dramatically from her chest, "No, wait….let me guess. New England…..maybe Vermont." Margie seemed to understand the look in Annie's eyes and shook her head.

"Nah, gotta be midwest, you're sweet as peaches." she said, "Iowa?"

"Minnesota. Mankato." Annie offered with an attempt at a smile.

"Ah! You must've heard - Major Egan, he's a Wisconsin guy. 's a wonder that he's so chatty." Annie laughed at her words, "I assume you've met him then?"

"Out on the tarmac. Showed me the mess hall. Well….officers' club." Annie said and Margie seemed to get a kick out of that and nodded.

"Yeah, he's real sweet until you gotta start having to actually sweet-talk him." Margie said, noticing Annie's gaze again, "Don't ask." Annie smirked.

"So, you met Silver Bullets yet? She's a beaut." Margie said, with a gleam in her eyes, "Flies faster than you can bet on her with." Something passed over Annie's eyes and Margie seemed to notice it, the smile crinkling the slightest bit. Silver Bullets. The B-17 that Captain Faulkner had piloted on various missions and had died in as well.

The B-17 awaiting its newest pilot.

"Nah, not yet." Annie said, "Met Lieutenant Montez though…..said I'd find you all around here."

"Yeah, Monty, she's….she's not doing great. Well, after everything," Margie said with a half-hearted smile that looked more like a depleted frown, "she had to get the thing on the ground with Birdie's body next to her." Annie watched as Margie sighed and shut her eyes and seemed to shutter.

"We're really glad you're here," Margie said quietly, looking up at Annie, "It's been…..weird, without Birdie here. Everyone trusted Birdie, all the other pilots, Operations…..her being gone, I don't know….they don't like the thought of us going up with just anyone." The words 'just anyone' seemed to strike something deep inside of Annie as she stood there against the bar and she nodded. Just anyone, she thought to herself.

"I intend to prove our worth here," Annie said quietly, "you, me, the whole crew. Silver Bullets." Margie smiled at her and nodded.

"Really, though, we're glad you're here, ma'am." Annie did feel her nerves settle for a moment as she stood there, just hearing Margie's words directed at her with consolation and comfort all at once.

"Lieutenant 'No Name' Bradshaw," a incredibly distinct voice said from over her shoulder, Margie's eyes darting upwards and Annie slowly following her line of sight, "can't believe you actually came." Major Egan grinned.

"We were just talking about you, sir!" Margie exclaimed, jumping in with wide eyes, "Just near about summoned you like you were God."

"Don't inflate his ego," muttered a brunette coming in from Major Egan's side, "it's bursting the bubbles at this point." Annie looked to Major Egan.

"Captain Brady invited me." she offered towards him and he raised a surprised brow.

"Oh leave her alone, sir," Margie said with a scolding, but playful look, "just because you can pull all that sweet-talking with Farley here-"

"Hey." grumbled the woman - her assumption that it was Farley was evident.

"Don't go pulling it with Bradshaw alright, she could probably take you out swinging, sir." managed Margie and Major Egan chuckled.

"Dancing? Oh I'd love to." he said, with a nod, "Want to give me a spin, No Name?"

"Leave her alone," Farley said from beside Major Egan, "Kennedy Farley, gunner on Silver Bullets."

"Pleasure to meet you." Annie said with a quick smile, before noticing Major Egan was watching her again, "Is Captain Brady here, sir? I meant to go thank him."

"He's somewhere," Kennedy offered instead, "but don't mind him-" she swiftly pointed to Major Egan who was grinning as proud as he could, "-this is just Major John Egan for you." Quite the sentiment and statement about a Major in the 100th.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw," Annie turned from Major Egan, Margie and Kennedy and found Captain Brady there, removing the peak cap and tucking it under his armpit, before sticking out a hand, in what she assumed as a friendly reintroduction.

"Well, No Name, seems he came right to you," Major Egan said with a chuckle, as Annie reached forward and shook Captain Brady's hand firmly. He raised his brow and Annie felt her cheeks burn.

"I meant to thank you," she said quickly, crossing her arms, and smiling up at him, "for inviting me. I was going to look for you." Brady smiled, his eyes lingering on her for a few seconds longer than warranted, before he looked behind her.

"Not giving the 100th's newest pilot too much trouble, huh?" he asked, seemingly to mainly look at Major Egan, who, when she glanced over her shoulder, smirked proudly and gave a bow.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he offered, as Brady stepped to her side, with a smile.

"C'mon, let's get you a drink."

[ghoulnextdoor]

 James Jebusa Shannon (1862-1923) - Lady Marjorie Manners (1883–1946), Later_Marchioness of Anglesey 

[corallapis]

James Jebusa Shannon: portraits of Violet Manners, Duchess of Rutland, and four of her children: Lady Marjorie Manners (later Paget, Marchioness of Anglesey); Lord John Manners (later 9th Duke of Rutland); Robert Manners, Lord Haddon; and Lady Diana Manners (later Cooper, Viscountess Norwich); 1895, 1900.

[thethirdromana]

Sydney Atherton's Very Heterosexual Description of Paul Lessingham

I am free to confess,—I have owned it before!—that, in a sense, I admire that man,—so long as he does not presume to thrust himself into a certain position.

Have you been thinking a lot about what positions Paul might be thrusting in, Sydney?

He possesses physical qualities which please my eye—speaking as a mere biologist.

As a biologist, mm-hmm.

I like the suggestion conveyed by his every pose, his every movement,

His every pose? His every movement? You have been watching him closely.

of a tenacious hold on life,—of reserve force, of a repository of bone and gristle on which he can fall back at pleasure.

Isn't the usual expression "at leisure"? Freudian slip?

The fellow’s lithe and active; not hasty, yet agile; clean built, well hung,

No comment.

—the sort of man who might be relied upon to make a good recovery. You might beat him in a sprint,—mental or physical—though to do that you would have to be spry!—but in a staying race he would see you out.

It's important to Sydney that Paul has stamina.

I do not know that he is exactly the kind of man whom I would trust,—unless I knew that he was on the job,—which knowledge, in his case, would be uncommonly hard to attain. He is too calm; too self-contained; with the knack of looking all round him even in moments of extremest peril,—and for whatever he does he has a good excuse.

Quite a sexy flaw, isn't it? He's hot as hell but I just don't know if I can trust him - don't worry, Sydney, we've all been there.

He has the reputation, both in the House and out of it, of being a man of iron nerve,—and with some reason; yet I am not so sure. Unless I read him wrongly his is one of those individualities which, confronted by certain eventualities, collapse,—to rise, the moment of trial having passed, like Phoenix from her ashes. However it might be with his adherents, he would show no trace of his disaster.

VERY SUBTLE FORESHADOWING. But also Sydney goes very quickly from the collapse to the phoenix-like rise.

And this was the man whom Marjorie loved. Well, she could show some cause.

Even more cause? Beyond him being admirable, and good-looking, and well-hung (!), and full of stamina?

He was a man of position,—destined, probably, to rise much higher; a man of parts,

Back to his parts again.

—with capacity to make the most of them;

It's not the size of the boat etc.

not ill-looking; with agreeable manners,—when he chose; and he came within the lady’s definition of a gentleman, ‘he always did the right thing, at the right time, in the right way.’ And yet—!

And yet you think you might still be in with a chance?

Well, I take it that we are all cads, and that we most of us are prigs; for mercy’s sake do not let us all give ourselves away.

Sydney, I fear it's too late for that.

[scribble-dribble-writes]

To save a mockingbird (4)

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Word count: 1300

Warnings: none

I thought the sequels could do with more representation and that Rose shouldn't be the only one. I firmly believe that if General Hux allowed himself to enjoy a Jaleebi, the man would have left the First Order long ago, now that Jaleebi is canon in the Starwars universe based on Visions 2 😆

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Chapter 4

The house was quaint, his ankle itched. The tracker was strapped to his skin that even when he took a bath, he would not be free of it. While she was given a device, to monitor his location and to make sure he was within bounds. He entered, his nose scrunched up. The ceiling was quite low but it was homely and maybe that’s why he didn’t like it. It was easy to tell that she had a cherished family with how artefacts lined the wall and the space looked lived in. A stark contrast to his quarters, he didn’t even own a pair of favourite slippers or a caf mug. Detached, much like the fleet itself, all this felt new to him. A frail woman sat in a seat as she remained busy with her crochet needles.

“This isn’t much.”, Marjorie chose her words as she turned to him. She felt overprotective of this space, of Aachi. This place was not up for strangers and yet, here he was. It felt like he was evening out the scores, because she had infiltrated his space, he had now chosen to do so.

“But it is my home.”, she told him and he marveled at her as she commanded the room.

As she spoke, the old woman had spotted him and to his surprise she smiled at him. Was everyone in her family mad? He waited and observed as she hobbled into the kitchen, to soon return with a plate full of colourful sweets. What was this custom?

He hated sweets, he preferred his caf without sugar, delicacies often reminded him of his mother or gave life to dormant memories that he would have much preferred to have forgotten now. He spent his early days relating to her like the kitchen maid, never once thinking twice about the love in her eyes. Only when he got to know who she was, he was sent away to the academy, never to return, never to see her again.

“It’s been so long since we’ve had visitors.”, she held the plate to him but his eyes shot to see Majorie and in the brief time he had known her, he saw sadness flicker over her features.

“She’s never brought a man home.”, the lady continued to say with a mischievous smile and Hux wasn’t sure if he should just say something cruel, to kill whatever this was that other people could pick up on his thoughts. Instead he took a step back, unbothered, not wishing to respond.

“He’s a little skinny but that’s an easy fix.”, she continued but he watched as Marjorie enveloped her grandmother in tender care and led her away into a room, explaining that he was only someone from work. Interesting, the spy had a weakness.

He inspected the device on his foot. He took in the space around him again. A week here and he was certain to go insane. The door creaked and she was back in his line of sight.

“I don’t like this, just as much as you don’t.”, Marjorie spoke clearly.

“I apologize on behalf of my grandmother, she’s just been …”, she grew silent and the words bubbled in his mouth.

It wasn’t an issue.

But he stayed quite again, he was never chivalrous or charming and he didn't know why he wanted to show her that he did have a couple manners left within him. He thought of questions but was in a war with himself. He didn’t need to know more, about the sweets or the old lady or the tapestry on the wall or why she was sad?

What was it to him? Collecting information would prove useful later, a thought eased him. He convinced himself that this was a mission and his mouth spit out the words his mind had strung together.

“Anyone else I need to know about?”, he said it without care or concern and watched as her faced twisted slightly.

“My father hasn’t been around since I was a child.”, she answered him still.

“My mother is …”, she met his gaze and there it was, that sadness, that moment causing his heart to twitch for the first time.

“She was on Hosnian Prime.”, she said softly and he looked away. He was certain it was the lack of a breakfast but a void in his heart tore open and all he wanted was to leave, his body craving the untouchable silence of his quarters on the fleet. Her soft gaze now made his skin crawl.

“Her room is the only one that’s vacant. But there’s nothing in it either way, so you do not need to worry.”, she spoke as though she had seen through him.

As he turned to enter the room, he heard her shuffle closer and as he turned, the tip of his nose was an inch away from hers when he spotted she had caught the edge of his shirt, mindful to not touch him in the process but enough to draw his attention.

“I know you plan to escape. I can’t stop you. But if you ever, bring down harm to this house or to my grandmother,”, she paused but he felt the air turn electric.

“Let’s just say that wouldn’t be favourable for you.”, she said calmly but her eyes were a storm, one he was entranced by. Her warning held a deadly note and it only made his blood sparkle.

She let go and turned away. That it was a question which only had one answer. He had to comply to win her over just long enough for the betrayal to hurt. He was an expert at this.

“The door stays open. You show up for meal times, you will help around the house and keep your head down.”, she barked her orders as she pulled out sheets of paper.

“Each week contains tasks for you to complete and at the end of each day, you bestow us with the secrets you know or help with decrypting messages.”, she instructed him.

“You’re working with the mechanics tomorrow.”, she wasn’t sure how good he was with vehicles or anything outside of sitting in powerful places.

His hands looked soft and free of callouses that she could deduce he wasn’t one to have any experience with manual labour. He didn’t respond to her, while he stood there, while his green eyes read her gestures and expression. Arrogance, she never liked it. So instead of letting her mind dwell on his features and mannerisms, she moved on.

“Found these in the 'Lost and Found' department.”, she picked up a box that was next to her and held it out to him. It was full of clothes and objects that would prove useful to him in his stay here.

He took it but never said thank you and she wondered if he even knew the basics of human communication and etiquette.

She lead him into the room but her mind had forgotten him, although there was nothing here, she still felt the coldness and the vacancy. The bed was in the corner, the walls were bare making it devoid of any life. Turning around to see him take in the surroundings, she was certain he was going to keep it in the same state.

“Lunch is an hour’s time. You could start off by helping in the kitchen for today.”, she couldn’t stay another second here or notice the inquisitive look on his face that was washing away all the kindness she had left in herself because now she wanted to yell at him to spit it out. Was he sorry? Or could he ever feel remorse?

She didn’t have anything left to tell him, so she left.

The room was cold and empty, just like she had said. It felt like home, he thought as he took it in, inhaling deeply to catch the faint smell of Marjorie's perfume which was the only attribute he didn’t mind or rather wanted to memorise. Because when something felt like home, that was when the monsters crept to take a hold of him. The box had shirts and pants, none of which he would ever be found in. But it seemed better that the brown jumpsuit so he dropped the box onto the mattress as he took a seat next to it by the corner.

His life had decided to remind him of his past and all his wrongdoing was finally catching up to him. He let his head fall into his hands finally. The kitchen of all places was his first test.

He sat alone and in the quiet, he’ll escape tomorrow, he was sure of it. He will steal an x-wing and before anyone caught on, he will be back as the General to rain hell on this base. The rage burned deep within, there was no redemption for him.

[life-imitates-art-far-more]

James Jebusa Shannon (1852-1923) "Lady Marjorie Manners" (1900)

[baltimore-cigarettes]

Tag people you want to know better❤️

Thank you @orchidsareforever for tagging me in this ☺️😚

I just saw it, my apologies in advance!

Relationshipstatus: Taken. 2 years, almost 3 in February and going 🥰 I love you baby rosau @lucifer-te-quer

Favorite Color: Black, Red and White.

Favorite food: Lasagna and Canelones.

Song stuck in my head: Right now? none in particular, maybe Flowers by Miley but no that much, now a song that is old but has always been stuck in my mind for years and still going is I Was a Fool by Tegan and Sara, that song will haunt me forever and i am not complaing about it lol

Last thing I googled: Eileen (the new film of Thomasin Mckenzie and Anne Hathaway) the screenwriter was inspired by Rebecca of Hitchcock so that's already a win for me. Can't wait to see it.

Current time: 02:44 am

Dream trip: Scotland, the land of two my loves, Lady Diana Cooper (the one who inspired my book) and Lady Marjorie Manners, Marchioness of Anglesey❤️

Tagging: @neednottoneed @lucifer-te-quer

[random-brushstrokes]

James Jebusa Shannon - Lady Marjorie Manners (ca. 1911)

[alexusonfire]

Warmth of Your Doorways - Chapter Five

Jane Murdstone x dressmaker!Reader

Written in collaboration with dearest heart @daydream-cement 🩷

Warnings: Mentions of domestic violence

Summary: Pomegranates and unexpected visitors.

The days leading up to the Ball all meshed into one another, the dress shop busier than ever as the local ladies tried to upstage one another with their fanciful ideas. You and Mary had been nearly run to the ground, your hands and elbows sore from the constant work, the sewing and fitting and endless chatter. You slump into bed only to be awoken what felt like minutes later to yet another woman in a tizzy over her outfit choices.

Jane hadn't had a chance to visit either, as she was busy helping prepare Lady Marjory's home to host. She'd taken to mostly ordering about the staff, ensuring everything was done in an efficient and timely manner (though she was known to rearrange and adjust as she saw fit.) Though she too was exhausted, her mind often wandered to you, what you were doing, when she could see you again.

Her heart ached for you, in a way it never had before.

She thought about popping down for dinner that evening, but once it was revealed that they were short on not one, but four table settings, she had no choice but to simply dart past your shop and instead use her time at the local cutler. She did take a moment to peek in your window however, an instant calm loosening her shoulders the second you came into view. You didn't see her of course, too focused on the two women seemingly bickering in front of you, but she didn't mind. A moment to admire you, the way your forehead scrunched and chin tilted when you were concentrating, was all the motivation she needed for the rest of the evening.

The eve of the Ball finally arrived, and you both sighed in relief as the last stitch was sewn and plate set. You hurriedly tidied up your station, eager to have a chance to clean up before heading over to Jane's. Tonight you would have her all to yourself, no risk of interruptions or being called away. The entire town would be so engrossed in the glitz and glam they wouldn't care less about two women in love spending their evening together. You picked out your prettiest lilac evening dress and tossed your hair half up before making your way out the door, the cool night air helping soothe the sudden butterflies in your stomach. You'd missed Jane, more than you'd care to admit to most, and were eager to finally have her in your arms again.

You arrived early (7:00pm rather than 8:00pm when the party began), but you knew Jane wouldn’t be offended by your overzealousness. When you wandered up to the home, the front door was open so you allowed yourself to enter Lady Marjory’s home in search of Jane. 

As you passed through the front doors, the already lavish home was decorated in the most intriguing decorations - all of which added to the masquerade theme of the evening. You must have lost track of time admiring the decor as the feeling of a hand grasping yours and tugging you backwards made you yelp in shock. The power of the other person sent you stumbling around backwards until your chest made contact with theirs. 

The next few events were a blur. In a flash, the stranger pulled you under the staircase and had you pressed against a wall to kiss you breathless. Eyes open wide with confusion, you looked to see the perpetrator of this affection, feeling quite silly when you saw it was Jane. Immediately the confusion of being grabbed by a stranger was replaced with the joy of being in your lover’s arms.

You quickly returned her affections. Winding your arms around her middle, you held her as close as possible, not wanting the kiss to end anytime soon. The kiss soon increased in fervor as Jane’s hands came up to hold you by your cheeks. She was trying to convey every ounce of missing you as she opened her mouth into the kiss, her tongue brushing against your bottom lip swiftly before she took your bottom lip between her teeth. 

While you knew you were ruining a perfectly romantic moment, Jane’s intensity made you giggle against her lips. She didn’t seem too disappointed as your joy brought a smile to the serious woman’s lips. 

Jane parted the kiss, but stayed close, her forehead pressed against yours, “I missed you, sweeting…”

A smirk played on your lips, raising Jane��s hands near your mouth. “I missed you, Janey. How has the party planning been? Everything looks wonderful.” You broke up your sentences into bits by placing kisses to the inside of both Jane’s exposed wrists. Your eyes swept over her face, and the blush that crept over the ravenette’s cheeks was perhaps the most adorable thing you had ever seen. 

Jane’s body leaned into your touch, her form pressing you against the wall. She was in desperate need of your touch. She was in desperate need of your comfort. 

Her arms wound you into a tight hug, speaking softly in your ear, “I’ve never seen Marjory so… tense, but after tonight, everything will finally be back to normal. More tea times… More shared meals… More time together…” 

“I’ve been awaiting tonight with such desperation, Janey. I cannot wait to be alone with you, my love…” Jane’s hug slowly softened as she listened to your words. All of your words mimicked her own feelings perfectly, only reminding Jane why she loved you so.

At the mention of being alone, Jane took you by the hand once more, pulling you from the privacy beneath the staircase back around the banister, and you followed her up the stairs. When you were about halfway up, you heard Marjory’s melodic voice calling from behind you, “Nice to see you too, Y/n! Goodnight Janey! I had Mr. Smith leave a few wares in your room so you can have a pleasant evening.”

Marjory’s teasing words made you laugh while Jane only tried to hide her embarrassment. There was no stopping the ravenette from pulling you all the way to her room at the end of the hall. She was absolutely giddy to have you all to herself for an entire romantic evening.

You took care to keep quiet and unseen, lest you come across a stray party-goer, but as soon as her door was closed Jane had you pressed to it, her lips on yours once more in giddy excitement; truly, you couldn't get enough of eachother, the few short days apart feeling like months. After she had kissed you breathless, she pulled back and gestured towards the fruit plate and wine laid out on the small sitting table.

"Are you hungry dearest? I'm sure you haven't had a chance to eat much… as admittedly, neither have I."

You simply nodded, letting her take you by the hand and lead you to the table. She pulled out your chair, gesturing for you to sit, and you couldn't help but giggle at her chivalry.

"My my, you're quite the gentlewoman, Jane Murdstone."

Jane merely tsked and moved her chair to sit beside you, a gesture you found incredibly endearing. You both picked through the fruit, idly swapping stories of the last few days. She made a few passive aggressive remarks about the rude ladies you'd had to deal with, and you laughed at Jane's descriptions of the "blundering buffons" she was "forced" to work with. At some point your thighs and shoulders had pressed together, her hand gently resting on your thigh; this was the closeness you'd been craving for days, and you felt so at home now that you had it.

Jane was in the midst of telling you how awful the one kitchen maid was when she noticed you staring strangely at one of the fruits.

"Sweeting? Have I lost you?"

"Mmm? Oh, sorry, I was just trying to figure out what this one was."

You used your fork to point to the reddish round fruit, and Jane smiled as she reached forward to pick it up.

"This is a pomegranate dear. Have you ever tasted one before?"

You shook your head, your heartbeat picking up at the way her smile turned into a smirk.

"Would you like to?"

Low, sultry, enticing. You could barely form a thought at her change of tone, and again merely nodded your head, cheeks heating at the delight in her eyes. You watched as she picked up a small paring knife and sliced open the fruit, its juices dribbling down her wrist.

You had a sudden urge to reach forward and lick them away.

You continued to watch in silence as she pulled open the pomegranate, revealing plump, bright red seeds. Jane used a small spoon to carefully scoop some of them out, then held it out towards you.

"Open."

"You're going to be the death of me, little violet."

The small command left you heated, and could do nothing but comply, always eager to please her. She gently tilted the spoon towards your tongue, and your tastebuds were suddenly filled with a sticky, tart sweetness that somehow reminded you of Jane herself. As you chewed you felt a small drip of juice run down your chin, and Jane was quick to reach out and swipe it away with her thumb. Before she could pull back, you took her wrist and brought her thumb to your lips, sucking it into your mouth to lick up the juice, exactly as you'd wanted to earlier. Jane's eyes widened, her pupils nearly overtaking her entire iris; before you could comprehend what was happening, she'd pulled you onto her lap, pressing you flush to her as her hands wandered your thighs and torso.

Those words made your stomach swirl with butterflies, and soon your tongues began battling. Soft hums and moans churned from Jane’s throat, her hands coming to grip the fabric of your dress so as to begin pulling it upward to expose your thighs. She needed her hands against your skin, so she could squeeze palm-fulls of flesh.

Your hands took to Jane’s hair, beginning to unpin her mess of black curls so they could fall around her shoulders. As the kisses increased in intensity, you found a burning growing in the pit of your stomach. This was the same fire that was plaguing you since your intimate relationship with Jane began growing deeper and stronger.

A whine escaped your lips when Jane parted the kiss. Her hand had moved to rest at the base of your neck, gently pushing you away for her hungry graze to drink you in once more.

Jane’s grip on your neck tightened slightly, holding you in place as her other hand reached past you in search of the wine. Butler Smith had left it open, so Jane swiftly poured a single glass, bringing it back between the both of you when it was three quarters full. “Thirsty, sweeting?”

Nodding, you opened your mouth to speak, but Jane silenced you by moving her hand to your face so as to hold your head still for her to feed you the wine herself. She had tilted the glass too high on purpose, leading the wine to flow down the sides of your mouth as you gulped at the sweet fermented grape juice. When Jane thought you had enough, she placed the glass on the table once more.

Her next movements caused you to whimper. Jane guided you to gaze up at the ceiling and the next thing you knew, Jane’s tongue was gliding up your neck to the corner of your mouth. She repeated the same process on the other side and when you looked back down at her, she was sucking the wine that had run over her thumb.

One thing had led to another, and a bottle of wine had been split between the both of you within the hour. Between Jane feeding you wine and you offering the same to her, you had licked and sucked at one another’s fingers and necks to the point that everything still remained sticky, but you were both too dazed and aroused to notice.

Mid-makeout, the orchestra had risen in volume from the party below, leading you to break off the kiss once more. The alcohol had emboldened you causing you to rise from your love’s lap and offer you her hand, “May I have this dance, my love?”

You had planned for your dancing to be a grand waltz with dips and twirls and laughs, but once Jane stood and entered your embrace, all you could do was hug her and sway side to side. Jane had no qualms with this however as her hand came to rest on the back of your neck, effectively tucking your head under her chin.

Jane spoke up softly, her voice filled with strong emotions as it cracked when she called you by her pet name, “I have never loved someone the way I love you, my little violet.”

Knowing Jane could be on the verge of tears made you hold her to you tighter, your lips placing tender kisses to her collar bone between your sentences. “I shall never love again if I cannot love you, Janey. You will never go unloved by me… You are too well tangled in my soul…”

Jane felt as though her heart could nearly burst, needing to take a moment to comprehend how someone could love her so… and how she could love them so fiercely in return. Never had she dared dream of affections such as this, and now here you were, wrapped in her arms, whispering sweet nothings to her as you swayed to the distant music.

When the tune ended Jane stifled a giggle at your yawn, feeling the night heavy in her bones. You had spent hours loving and laughing and drinking, and now the call of her plush bed sheets rang out.

Before allowing you to fall into the pillows, she wet a cloth and tenderly wiped down your neck and chest, clearing any remnants of the earlier wine or fruits. Quiet giggles filled the room as you took turns undressing each other, skirts and corsets haphazardly tossed around you as lips met newly exposed skin. Dizzy from wine and love, you finally curled into each other beneath the blankets, Jane tucking you close underneath her chin.

"Sweetest of dreams, my darling girl."

You hummed happily, nosing along Jane's neck before placing a small kiss near her pulse.

"Sweet dreams, my love."

--

The next morning came all too quickly, the morning sun poking through the curtains rousing you. At first you were slightly perplexed, the lavender scented pillows throwing you off- until you felt a small puff of air hit your head, and you finally registered the warm body wrapped around you.

Jane.

A sleepy smile overtook your features, and you simply relaxed once more, enjoying waking up in your lovers arms; though this was the first time you had been able to do so, it felt so natural, so right. Like you'd never belonged somewhere more.

A rapid knocking at the door startled the two of you, Jane nearly tossing you out of bed in her haste.

"Jane? Janey please open up, and be quick!"

Marjory's voice had a slight panicked edge to it, which did not settle well in your stomach. You thought it best to stay mostly hidden under the covers, while Jane hurried to throw a nightdress on and open the door.

"Lady Marjory, what ever is the matter?"

"Jane, I'm so sorry to tell you this but… I'm afraid your brother has shown up, rather unexpectedly."

You noticed the way Jane's jaw muscle clenched, and her posture stiffened.

Interesting. Neither she nor Lady Marjory had ever spoken of a brother before, and for good reason it would seem. His sudden presence was not deemed welcome by the way Lady Marjory sounded and Jane stood. You felt your stomach clench unpleasantly once more.

"I see. Thank you Lady Marjory. Please do tell Edward I will ready myself, and then be down."

Jane's voice was cool and collected, but you could tell by the way her knuckles whitened against the door handle that she was just as unsettled as you were, if not perhaps more. With a final nod Jane shut the door, then turned to you with a sort of panicked urgency.

"I am terribly sorry sweeting but I'm afraid I must ask you to go. Edward- well, he's just-"

In a flash you were up and by her side, gently pushing your finger to her lips.

"A story for another time. Let me help you with your corsets and hair and I shall be off."

The notion of you helping her into her dress and pinning up her hair had Jane finally wearing a smile for you - happy for your time and love.

You helped Jane into one of her usual black dresses and cinched up her corset - pressing kisses to her neck and shoulders the whole while. When she was dressed, you sat her at her makeup table and began pinning her hair back into its tight bun. Jane’s pleasant smile soon faded at the thought of seeing her brother and her face turned downwards into an intense frown. Never in your time with Jane had you seen her so distraught.

Once Jane was fully ready, you wrapped your arms around her neck as she sat before the mirror, pressing kiss after kiss to her cheek. “Will I see you later, darling?”

“Of course, my love. I’ll- I’ll come to you though. There is no reason for you to be around my brother.” Jane murmured, leaning back into your embrace.

“Sounds delightful. The flowers are in bloom near work… I’d love to have you identify them.” You whisper, pulling away from the ravenette, knowing full well Jane could never resist an opportunity to identify a flower for you.

Jane and you swiftly said your goodbyes, filled with gentle caresses and sweet kisses. She soon slipped from the room, leaving you to swiftly ready yourself. Rather than wait for Jane to come back upstairs and help you stealthily slip out of Jane’s room, you push open her window and glance down at the trellis you had become well acquainted with during your nighttime visits to Jane’s rooms.

You carefully scampered down the trellis, not wanting to get caught by wandering eyes. As you walked home, there was a new spring in your step, almost skipping down the street as you thought of your love with Jane.

--

When Jane made her way down to the library, she gingerly closed the door behind herself and hadn’t even gotten a word out when Edward scolded her, “I don’t believe I should have to wait this long to see my own sister. Too busy with other matters, Jane?”

She only chose to remain silent, not indulging her brother’s petty behavior. When Jane lived with Marjory, she was intent on maintaining the right of running her life in the manner she saw fit. Jane wished to not allow Edward any control over her life now.

“I know what you are doing Jane. It needs to stop now… I saw your- your… woman leaving your rooms, Jane. You can’t continue with this… unnatural behavior. I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t allow what? I simply don’t know what you speak of, Edward. I work for Marjory… tend my garden… and do my embroidery.”

The smirk on Edwards face was nearly feral, and Jane could have fainted right then and there. She knew that look, knew it well. It meant pain, destruction, no mercy given. She'd done everything in her power to avoid that look her entire life, and thankfully had only been subjected to it a handful of times.

Now however, there would be no escape.

"Dear sister. Do you not recall the last time you dared lie to me about a woman sharing your bed?"

She flinched. She couldn't help it. The memories of pain filled her to the brim, the bruises that had lasted for weeks afterwards. How he had dragged poor, sweet Sarah by her hair-

Harlot. Slut. A disgrace to the family.

"I won't have it Jane. You will not be allowed to make a mockery of this family with your… indiscretions. Once you have that… stain of disgust you will never be rid of it. We will never be rid of it."

Jane swallowed the lump in her throat, a lifetime of shame welling up inside her. She desperately tried to recall the feeling of your hand in hers, soft and warm.

If only you were here with her now, would she have the strength to stand against him.

"Brother… please…"

His laughter was cruel, and struck Jane to the core. He allowed almost no space between them as he approached her, thrilling in the way she cowered despite their heights being evenly matched.

"End it, sister. Or I shall."

His breath hot on her face was nothing compared to the ice in her veins, the dread that seemed to spread all the way through to her fingertips. She dared not move until he finally left the room, doing her best to maintain her composure, no cracks, no weaknesses.

Nothing further for him to feed on.