#mrsinclaireheadcanons

[retvenkos]

“your words are enchanting.”

I HOPE YOU ARE READY, BECAUSE BEING THE SISTER OF THE SWEET™ MR. CHAMBERS AND LIKING MR. SINCLAIRE??? THAT HAS TO GO A LITTLE SOMETHING LIKE THIS...

so mr. chambers has always been a favorite of mine

the kindness he possesses???

his formal but warm way of speaking???

his general selflessness???

the world needs more men like mr. chambers.

and as his sister, you definitely have these traits.

which makes you generally liked

however, you are very protective of your brother

which means that you are not afraid to stand up for him

which means among the older crowd you are seen as not having the greatest manners - that temper of yours could get you in trouble

but it means you make good friends with miss parsons

which is the real win here, let’s be real

and you and mr. chambers are close

i headcanon that your parents are dead and so you live with him at your parent’s manor and now he’s in charge of you

the two of you talk while while you try to improve upon your pianoforte skills

and you tease him about his crushes

because yes, you know, you were one of the first to know, tbh

and he will tease you with questions on who you hope will court you

to which you claim to have no idea

but your flustered nature gives you away

and besides, bartholomew chambers would not be your brother if he didn’t know about your obvious crush on the austere ernest sinclaire

and you know that both of you are good with words

which means you both write poetry

mr. chambers writes it for mr. konevi when he meets him, and you help him smooth out transitions in it, although he is already really good

and you write poetry about everything, although mostly you focus on things like the seasons or stars or the moon

you sometimes read it for other people at parties, although you are shy about your skills

but mr. sinclaire loves your poetry, he’s told you so before and whenever you do read, he is there

so you give him some of your poetry, some of the better pieces that you’ve always kept for himself

“you are well read, mr. sinclaire. if you would, please read these poems of mine and tell me if they capture the right sentiment.”

“thank you, miss (y/n).”

and you know that you’re brother won’t let you live it down.

“it’s just poetry, barty!”

“it’s just your life’s work in the hands of a potential suitor, (n/n)!”

“but-- i... mr. sinclaire is a widower - i would never!”

“perhaps not you, (n/n), but i would be careful, other women do not have your qualms and will view your actions as being quite forward.”

and you sigh loudly

“aren’t i allowed to have friends?”

“not in this society.”

and you push him and he laughs

and, of course, because there is talk about your brother’s “...company,” there are plenty of rumors about you as well

and when miss holloway mentions them quite loudly at a party in front of everyone, you give a scathing reply, defending your brother and claiming that her accusations are baseless and crude

and then you storm out, tears in your eyes and bile in your throat

you always hated parties

you’re sitting in the garden, looking up at the stars when you hear someone approach

and you figure it’s your brother, so you don’t pretend that everything is fine, you just keep your gaze skyward, your breathing slowing but still irregular

and then you hear the distinct voice of mr. sinclaire cut through the night, and--

he’s reciting your poetry

and you don’t know what to do

“mr. sinclaire... forgive me for--”

“there’s nothing for you to apologize for.”

and you nod, but you’re still messing with your skirts, trying to make yourself look like anything other than the crying girl you were moments before

“i trust you found my poetry pleasing, then?”

he smiles at that and you can’t help but stare

“yes. you’ve a quite a way with words.”

“well, i’ve always found i can’t stop myself from saying them, so i should, at the very least, master them.”

“yes, well, miss holloway could learn a thing or two from you.”

and you’re quiet at that

“forgive me for being forward, but i would love to have more of your poetry. your words tend to speak my thoughts better than i.”

“there’s nothing for you to apologize for.”

and his chuckle is warm

“and i will be taking a walk tomorrow if you would like to join me. i could find inspiration enough for another poem, i’m sure.”

“i would like that.”

and when mr. sinclaire calls for you that day, you have to shove your brother into his room to get rid of his teasing

but you’re  s m i l i n g

AND FLUFF ENSUES.