#simcoe: visage

[annastrxng]

The chord of Edmund's voice, though notably strained, is honeyed. Dipped in savor-able sweet perhaps, because the delightful though melancholic sound had nearly been forgotten; and would have been forgotten too had the plans of the rebel captors succeeded.

The sting of the near-loss revisits Anna keenly as she finds herself drinking in his visage. He is every bit as worn as her own fatigue-engulfed bones felt. Even frowning or scowling, the man before her was no less endearing and no more intimidating. So enraptured is she, by the fact that his presence is every bit as real as her own, she nearly fails to catch his inquiry.

Haggard eyes snap upwards, honing in on Edmund's in absolute astonishment. The mere mention of the despised name causes waves of distressing anxiety, hot as lava, surging through her veins. Had someone informed him about the less than desirable encounters she's had? How Simcoe had ambushed her with a kiss? How she offered the warmth of her body in exchange for Edmund's freedom? Hewlett's nearness, which had been comforting moments ago had shifted-- and her stance damn near mirrored the alteration.

Anna's tentative tongue poises itself upon the cracked caverns of her lower lip, though it dare not yield it's secrets so easily. Heat scalds her cheekbones and her typical, unwavering glance, falters floorwards. There is no tactile grace to be deployed as her fingers crunch into the fabric of her dirtied skirts. She knows her answer will be as acrid as the taste of lemons. "Yes." She clumsily swallows. He was always lurking. His presence loomed more intently over her than her nightmares ever had. Every corner she turned, every room she entered, Simcoe was closer than her very own shadow.

Her hand unfurls itself from the cloth, before reaching over in humble offering to Hewlett's. "As you -- uhm may have had the misfortune of hearing elsewhere, and you might as well hear it from me,---" Her dark brows crowd together over the subtle slope of her nose. "There was talk that I belonged to Simcoe." Mostly impart because Richard had seen fit to boast such abhorrent sentiments at every opportunity. Her lips begrudgingly attempt to explain- falling open and closed several times before she can express her carefully chosen words. "He-- uhm-- He kissed me. I did not return the favor."

As if that fact alone was not enough to bring shame pouring over the brunette's countenance, there was more. "Wh--- when you -- you and Abraham were taken," she starts to impart though her voice crumbles like dried powder. So much so, she finds that she must start again, "when you were taken, I ---I went to him for help, offering whatever price he may elect to extract of me." Her teeth grit hard. "I was so desperate to have you back. I tried to implore Captain Wakefield to gather a few men and rescue you, but to no avail. The man is a coward." Her swift rebuke leaves her with more vitriol than she anticipated. Immediately, Anna feels kind of sorry over it.

"Simcoe and I --- fought." Her words are more carefully formed for fear of turning her own discomfiture into his. Actively Anna attempts to ignore a second surge of panic creeping up every vertebra in her spine. If she lingered too hard in the pall of her memories, she could vividly recount the way it felt to have Simcoe's hands coiled about her delicate throat. How the firmness of his pressure caused her to choke till numbness crept into every limb. Unable to keep her gaze cast downwards, she allows her maple orbs to seek his. Oh, she anticipates considerable judgement to be awaiting her. She swallows more harshly, willing herself to maintain the eye contact. "I don't want you to retaliate against him for his violent outburst. It was my fault, really. I ought to have known better than to petition with him in the first place." Perhaps Richard Woodhull was right do condemn her shamelessness when seeking out her own self-preservation as well as those she loved. For the concept did not bring her half the valor or sense of victory, she once perceived it might.

"But it is --- is not thoughts of Simcoe nor his looming presence that keeps me awake night after night." The intimate confession shatters, untethering itself from her lips before she could so much as think to stop it. "I feared for you, most of all." Nightmares were not always shed in the soft yellow tendrils of morning. The unexpected shuffle of bootsteps across floorboards and shadows of soldiers with guns still spiked her adrenaline. Considerable sadness floods her gaze as her maple orbs sweep over him once more. "I--- I could have lost you." Her tremulous words depart uneasily. She is not accustomed to the shades of vulnerability on full display for him.

Edmund's reassurance, that he is fine, does little to sooth the concern threaded in every thrum of Anna's heartbeat. Her stomach is coiled in knots so tight she doubts she could ever contemplate the art of eating again. With Edmund's hand so generously proffered, Anna allows her smaller porcelain digits to entwine and linger. His skin is temperate and if she focused long enough, she could almost detect the lull of his own pittering heartbeat. "I don't believe I am hungry." Her stomach sternly disagrees with a ravenous rumble. Though Anna had neglected nourishment, it had not been so neglectful. "Aberdeen has probably had enough for the night with all of Mary's party guests. I can very easily fix my own, if I desired as much." Comes her softened correction. That too was a stretch. Anna could barely keep herself upright, though she strove to do just that for his sake. There is however something about Hewlett's beseeching chord that willed the brunette to surrender and comply. "Very well, if you are offering to accompany me, I am sure I will strive to manage a roll. Would that be seen as satisfactory in your eyes?"

( E.dmund H.ewlett ; continued )

        𝐄𝐝𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐚’𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞. It was her eyes that held it the most and he looked onward with a frown pulling on his lips as she moved to the bed, sinking into the cot as if she hadn't had a chance to sit down in months.

        His inquiry was a soft one, a touch above a whisper but not high enough to extinguish a candle’s flame. At first, he assumed maybe it was a consequence of Richard nagging her again that made her look so beaten down, but then he realized from her attire that it was another matter entirely. She wasn’t dressed in her fine gowns, a few skinny wisps of hair were loosened from her pinned-up hair, and her hands were redder than usual. Then, his accusatory thoughts pointed to another man.

        ❝ Is it Simcoe? ❞

        He drew away from the loosened clothing chest and crossed the bedroom floor, allowing his body to sink into a spot next to her on the bed. He didn’t reach out to touch her even if he wanted nothing more than to cradle her face, push back the strands of hair, and really behold her. He feared that if he touched her, she would shatter like glass. ❝ Has he… has he visited you? Simcoe? ❞ Edmund couldn’t dial back the way his voice quickened at the mere thought of it. He could imagine Simcoe standing in her doorway, ordering her to stay put and not return to Whitehall. To him. Edmund knew that John was capable of killing DeJong or anyone he wanted to get to corner what he desired most. With his men trying to control the town under Hewlett’s hold, the killing of DeJong would be nothing more than an accident. A man like him was destined to have enemies, he could hear his shrill voice in the night.

        A relieved sigh left his lips at the fact DeJong was very much still alive. Not so much for his sake, but for Anna’s. Even if the tavern belonged to DeJong now, it was still a relief that Anna still had her position in his tavern with the tensions brewing in town upon the devil in green’s return. It was until Edmund noticed she was looking at him that her inquiry reached him.

        ❝ I’m fine, thank you. ❞ His voice softened then and he got to his feet, extending a hand if she needed help to stand. ❝ Aberdeen should still be in the kitchen at this hour. She should be able to make a meal for you there. Please, Anna, you can’t go to bed on an empty stomach. ❞

@annastrxng

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What strange creatures brothers husbands are! - Jane Austen

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[ x ]

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Frailty, Thy Name Is Woman!

        What does Shakespeare advise to do when you are, ah, heartbroken?

        I’ve never thought I’ll have to look up the answer to the question of no account in my life: science, astronomy in particular, has always saved me from the harsh and tenacious reflections of reality I have to face every day. Here it was absolutely useless; the ultimate shock palsied me didn’t seem to be surmounted anytime soon although deep inside I expected something of the kind to crawl up to me. Albeit Anna Strong’s pious intentions were clear to me, I decided to indulge in her cajoling voice and let the gestures take off my guard, blind and mesmerize me, bludgeon me to trust to the glow I spotted in her bright orbs shining brighter than a star in the sky. At the same time, her nature was clandestine to me; and nevertheless, I knew – from the very beginning – she never loved me at all. She respected me all the way; in the ides of August noticed her curiosity towards me, but it was nothing more than her courtesy mingled with sheer surprise – I treated her like a lady. But her love – it was not the prize I could ever get. Her love was to be bestowed on another man in the town of Setauket, although she had expressed the gentlest care during my convalescence and recuperation.

        I wish I didn’t hear the rumors – I wish I hadn’t been able to sift them thoroughly and scrupulously as any military officer has to. I wish I had never caught a bit of them – including those of Captain John Graves Simcoe molesting her. I somewhat missed it out. I somewhat relinquished the hold on the town letting this vile brat – I am sorry to say so but I cannot find the word describing him better – stay so close to her, probably threatening her, trying to intercept her outside the tavern she worked at. It must have been a quotidian thing for the citizen of Setauket to face, but I wanted, God sees that, I wanted to protect it, to preserve it, to make it a better place to live. Was I too bad for them to rule the town? Did I deserve to be treated the way I was treated by Anna Strong? Did she have the right to do what she did? Sitting there and looking at the stars, I found a few reasons for her behaving so – and, in all honesty, I approve none of them, even grasping the crux.

        On the other hand, Anna’s attitude to me is still an incredibly vague subject to reconsider. Those who know her well enough to judge her deeds must ascribe some money interest to her intents. At least, that’s what Richard did – as a good friend I always suspected in him, he took my side no matter the consequences and repercussions following the decision, never reneged – and forthwith awarded her with a title any woman would be ashamed to bear. He called her a harlot, a whore; the worst, the cheapest one – and constantly failed to see the real status quo.

        She was trying to indemnify me. With the zeal I rarely spotted in people.

        She was striving to protect me from the vermin hiding in my closest ones. My God, do you think I’m easier to manipulate than a pipe? You can push my buttons, but you can’t play me for a fool…

        Albeit it hurts me to accept the fact, she never truly felt a slightest touch of affection for me. She was ready to flee with me, to run for her life – to abscond to Scotland if necessary! Frailty, thy name is woman! Were you afraid, Anna? Did you want to save us both – or yourself only? I am not aware of your notions, and what I observed was an alteration: when I was about to yield and let me deceive me the simplest way possible, she defied. She betrayed. She lied. She made me a traitor, a pervert; she stung me as painfully as a venomous viper. Did she muse my impeccable reputation of a man of honour would stand the test of her ploy and public prosecution? It did. But did my heart?

        I remember her velvet brown eyes staring directly at me. I recollect the ceremony so vividly as if took place yesterday. For a bride, her smiled seemed forged, and I mistook it for nervousness – or excitement. I recall Richard, highly displeased – and foreseeing the following.

        “I’m sorry, Major. I can’t.”      

        What, thought I at the moment. Blind, happy, I could not believe that she, Anna Strong, the woman I had shared the night sky with, was cruel enough to say it was me who arranged the wedding with an already married woman. I still sometimes read abhorrence written on the guests’ faces – and only one visage wasn’t turned to me. A pair of eyes was glaring at Anna with visible, burning enmity, rancor and aversion. Richard Woodhull didn’t accuse me of it. Either he confided in me to a fault, or detested and despised Anna so much, but I perfectly recall his pursed lips – and a grimace of disdain – the unrivaled contempt a human could produce and express. No mistrust, but peerless anger slowly morphing into fury. I’ve never seen him like this hitherto.

        The man in the red uniform leaned back in his chair: his life was abrim with situations to speculate on, but one memory shone the brightest. It gleamed in the darkest nook of his mind, still causing pain and disbelief. What was she defending him from? Why did she come to him with a… proposal? Was it a part of her devious plan someone had contrived for her? Had she ever been genuine with him? Had any of her emotion been intrinsic? Did she act when they were watching the night sky with the scattered stars upon the blue canvas of it?

        Hewlett sighed. That’s why he loved science: it never attempted to hurt him and disappoint his expectations. If there was a mystery not to be unraveled, at any rate, it didn’t endeavour to stab him in the back.

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Modern Simcoe trying to flirt with Sally at a club

Incorrect Turn Quotes

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I have not the pleasure of understanding you. - Jane Austen

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You have bewitched me body and soul and I love, I love, I love you. - Jane Austen

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It was agitation, pain, pleasure, and something between delight and misery. - Jane Austen

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You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope...I have loved none but you. - Jane Austen

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Teach us...that we may feel the importance of every day, of every hour, as it passes. - Jane Austen

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When I fall in love, it will be forever. - Jane Austen

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Beware how you give your heart. - Jane Austen

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And sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself, because I could find no language to describe them in. - Jane Austen

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I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun. - Jane Austen

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He’s so excited to see Eliza that he can’t smile normally.

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A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment. - Jane Austen