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abyssal-ali · 10 months ago

Text

held together, our hands became a map

Pairing: Jason Todd x Stephanie Brown

Rating: M | WC: 12.1k + notes | Masterlist | Ao3 | CW: sexual harrassment, light violence, kind-of forced marriage (both want to marry the other but they don't think the other wants to), sexual content

A/N: Finally watched Bridgerton and was immediately inspired. Of course. You’re welcome. Thanks to Bold for letting me rant in her DMs and listening to me ramble about this fic<3 I wrote this in about three days and I’m really proud of myself so I hope y’all like it as much as I do :D Thanks to Boldly and HouseOfKings for betaing<3

Greetings, fair reader. I am the foremost reporter of Gotham society’s deepest and darkest secrets, the enigma that provides the ton with all the scandal they need to continue their gossipy lives. Let me tell you about two subjects of mine that I am finding most difficult to uncover a smear on their names. Miss Stephanie Brown is being sponsored by Duchess Grayson for a season in Gotham's finest society. She's looking for a man who is decent and decently wealthy (she has parents to take care of, after all; she's not choosing to trade love for money just because she's poor). The Duke of Altheban is new to town and most certainly isn't looking for a bride, but something is drawing him to one young lady against his will. Everyone has dark truths, and none more so than those who live in the glitz of high society. I will reveal their most hidden mysteries by the end of the season, or my name is not, Lady Gotham

-The title is a line from Love Maze by BTS. It’s kind of the theme song for this fic and is really catchy, if you want a new bop to listen to. English lyrics here. -There’s probably going to be some historical inaccuracies in here. Sorry not sorry. -I definitely played around with canon a lot, but canon can’t keep their story straight so at least I’m doing better than them, even if by doing so I mess up their canon :p -This is set in 1810. -It’s not a no-capes AU but it’s also not a Gotham by Gaslight AU (besides being set 80 years earlier). There’s some Bat-shenaniganery going on that’s not recorded in the fic but they haven’t revealed themselves to me yet. Just assume watered-down GbG AU, I suppose. Primitive crime-fighting stuff, some smarts being involved, and the basic tragic Bat-story & subsequent adoptions etc. -Jason died. I don’t know how. Or when. Or why. It just happened. Maybe I’ll figure it out in another work ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ -There was/is no TimSteph. They’re friends at best. -I meant for Cass and Duke to be in here (which sparked a whole breakdown trying to figure out what to call someone literally named Duke) but somehow they never popped in, besides one line where ‘Thomas’ [surname] is mentioned. The rest of the Bats aren’t really there, either, minus the minor Dick/Babs appearances. This is not a Batfam fic, this is a JaySteph fic. -I really like Babs’s character, and I dislike the ping-ponging in canon between making her disabled or not, so I kept her as her current(?) self, Oracle. No I don’t know how it happened or how she survived with the medicine of the day. This is fiction, shhh. Side note: Wheelchairs from the 1800’s looked more comfortable than I was expecting. -Don’t bother figuring out ages. Jason and Steph are in their early/mid-twenties and the rest of it is *waves hand* -I looked up Regency wedding traditions and wrote as accurately as I could. -More notes about the fic & my research at the end. (Side note: This was 12,000 words exactly in my docs, where did the extra 46 come from?! I was proud of that round wc ;-;)

Dearest Reader,

As you may know, the belle of the season is Miss Adelia Elliot, who broke onto the scene with a high compliment from the queen of Gotham herself, Selina Wayne. But let us not be so hasty to secure Miss Elliot as the season’s incomparable, for there has emerged another young lady from the ranks of the season’s debutantes.

Miss Stephanie Brown, a previously unheard-of young lady, has caught the eye of the most eligible Lord Duma. Will this debutante with unforeseen connections consider Lord Duma her match, or will she set her sights higher, with the backing of the inestimable judge of character, Duchess Grayson of Bludhaven?

Only time will tell. Let us speculate on the matches that may be made, for there appears to be blossoming a most fruitful season. However, let us not be swept away by the opening chords. There is still room for even the most nimble of societal maestros to slip.

We hope to be spared any slips by the illustrious Lord Damian Wayne at tonight’s soiree at Wayne Manor, the event that I am sure we all can acknowledge will kick off the season with refined festivity.

The youngest son of our very own darling Prince of Gotham, Bruce Wayne, Lord Wayne has been studying music at the Geneva Academy of Music for the past several months.

I look forward to seeing you all at his event, utilizing your finest feathers and weaponized words to glamour yourselves in an attempt to snag one of the elusive, prized sons of the finest founding family of this city.

Your closest friend,

Lady Gotham

Stephanie tossed the pamphlet onto the desk in annoyance.

“Is that the newest Lady Gotham newsletter?” asked Babs from the corner, where she was reorganizing her bookshelves after acquiring several more volumes.

“Yes.” She flopped onto the sofa, swinging her legs over the armrest. “Speculating on Adelia Elliot and my presentations and guessing who is going to marry who–the usual gossip,” she waved a hand in Babs’s direction. “She did end on a rather tongue-in-cheek note, though. Perhaps the lady is not as satisfied with society as I first thought.”

“Time will tell,” said Babs, unknowingly echoing the words of whom she was speaking.

Reversing the direction of her wheelchair, she steered over to the desk Steph had left the paper on. She looked over the pamphlet briefly before returning her attention to her friend.

“This reminds me, which dress are you planning on wearing to Damian’s recital tonight?”

“The green one, I was thinking.”

Babs sighed as she caught sight of Lady Gotham’s penultimate line. “Imagine you marrying one of Bruce’s sons.”

Steph snorted indelicately. “Damian is too young, even if he does have something of an eye for me, you’ve married Grayson, and Drake and I would never work out.” She shivered at the thought.

“I suppose I’d get along decently with Thomas, but he’s also rather young. I really don’t know what the writer was implying with her thinly veiled speculations. And she says we use our weaponized words!”

“Just ignore the gossips like you always do, Steph,” advised Babs. “And sit properly, please.”

“Because it’s that easy,” she rolled her eyes, moving to a more acceptable pose. “I admit I find myself quite intrigued as to this evening’s happenings. If Lady Gotham is among us, will she attempt to stir up the theatrics among the ton?”

~~~

A grunt escaped Jason as he turned, letting the punch roll off him. It still hurt, despite knowing how to take hits. His opponent danced back, bringing his fists back up into a guard position.

Jason moved back, luring his opponent over, before releasing a series of quick jabs and punches that forced his opponent to concede defeat.

“Alright, I get it, you’re stressed about your debut. What’s the matter, worried that you might not have any ladies dropping their handkerchiefs around you?”

Jason snorted, climbing out of the ring to get his towel. “You know I’m not looking for a lady yet.”

Waylon raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him. “You’re going to need a lady sooner or later.”

“Well, I choose later.” Jason yanked his cravat into a passable knot. “I’m worried that the family that’s practically Gotham’s royalty is going to dig into this mysterious new Duke of Altheban and destroy my plans before I’ve even had a chance to start.” He straightened his jacket and tapped his pockets to make sure everything was still there.

“I’ll see you later, Jones.”

“Enjoy the party, Todd–I mean Head.”

Jason waved his hand, not looking, as he headed out of the boxing centre.

~~~

In the velvet darkness of Gotham past 7 p.m, Wayne Manor presented a glittering vision as its lights reflected off the multitudinous baubles out on display for the soiree. Gilded and not-so-gilded carriages flowed from the portico to the stables in orderly succession.

Nimble fingers tripped lightheartedly over pianoforte keys as the star of the night, the newly-returned Damian Wayne, displayed his polished skills in a rousing performance.

“Ah, Head, there you are, my fine fellow!”

Jason nodded politely as an enthusiastic Roy Harper dragged him over to the group of young men congregated close to the doors of the formal parlor. “Gentlemen, this is my good friend Head, the Duke of Altheban. Head, these are my friends. This rogue is Aleksander, Lord Duma, and here is…”

Jason tipped his head shortly. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, gentlemen.”

Babs stopped her wheelchair abruptly, causing Steph to bang her knee on the back. “Ow, Babs-”

“Look, Steph, I am perfectly capable of getting myself to the parlour without your assistance. I will be fine for the entire evening, in fact! You should not worry about me and instead fill your dance card–with names that are not a part of the hosting family’s roster.”

Steph sniffed. “Fine, I will dance with one person who is not a Wayne or Wayne-adjacent. One .”

Babs sighed. “Thank you. If you see Dick before I do, could you direct him my way? Thank you.”

“Alright. Have fun, Babs.”

“I will,” Babs smirked, wheeling herself into the festivities and parking her chair in the best spot to get all the gossip.

Steph looked longingly at the refreshments table, then headed resolutely in the other direction, promptly bumping into a masculine chest. Her handkerchief fluttered to her feet, jarred loose from where it had been tucked into her glove by the impact.

“Oh, my apologies, I did not see you there, My Lord.”

He nodded stiffly, bending to collect her handkerchief. He rose and handed it to her, making sure their fingers did not brush. “It’s quite alright, it’s getting rather crowded in here. My fault, I’m sure.”

“No, no, that was my fault. I was caught in the sorrow of leaving those delicious-looking tarts behind me and did not see you for the tears in my eyes. Hence, the handkerchief,” she dabbed at her eyes dramatically.

The man’s stiff posture relaxed a little at her good-natured theatrics, his lips quirking up in what some may describe as a small smile. (Steph personally described it as the look of a hunted man relieved to find she was not his hunter–or huntress, as the case may be.) “May I escort you to those delicious-looking tarts, then? I hate to see a lady cry, especially when it can be easily remedied.”

“Thank you, that would be delightful. It’s not rude to eat a dozen of the things if a gentleman brought me one a dozen times, correct, My Lord?”

“Indeed, it would be far more rude to refuse his devoted attentions.”

“Lovely,” chirped Steph, taking his arm. “I do think it would be awful if Lady Gotham reported me rude in her next issue. I must take care to avoid all pretenses of the word.”

The man–whose name Steph still didn’t know, and also had never seen before, and did not know who could properly introduce them–poured two crystal cups of punch. “Would you care for some, my lady?”

“Thank you. The tarts are delicious but they do leave one thirsty.”

“Ah, Miss Brown.”

Steph turned to see Lord Duma approaching her, a polite but fixed smile on his face.

“Lord Duma,” she half-curtsied. “How are you this evening?”

“I am doing well, Miss Brown. I see you have met the ton’s latest import. Duke Altheban,” he nodded his head.

Steph cursed inwardly at her earlier social faux pas. To be fair, the only other dukes at this event she was already acquainted with, and she certainly didn’t expect this man to have a title that required a different address than ‘my lord’.

The man nodded back. “Lord Duma.”

“Ah, His Grace was just procuring me some punch, like a gentleman, before I fainted of thirst. We haven’t even been formally introduced.”

Hopefully the Duke would forgive her slip and have mercy on her unnoble self, now that he knew she was unaware of his status. To be fair, he had not seemed the type to be overly cognizant of his title–much like the Waynes, she supposed. A refreshing attitude, indeed.

Lord Duma took her hint.

“Oh, I must introduce you, then. Miss Brown, this is Jason Head, the Duke of Altheban; Your Grace, Miss Stephanie Brown.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Brown.” Duke Altheban bowed over her hand. “So, Lord Duma, are you tired of Harper’s stories so soon?”

He laughed. “Once you’ve been here a season or two, you’ll have heard all of Harper's stories. Besides, I heard that the young Wayne is finishing his performance soon and that the musicians would soon start the dancing. I had to make sure I reserved a spot on Miss Brown’s dance card.”

Steph smiled politely back at him. “Thank you, Lord Duma. Your forethought has indeed awarded you a chance to put your name on my dance card.”

“I would like to also reserve a spot, if I may, Miss Brown.”

Steph turned to the Duke, somewhat surprised. It wasn’t uncommon for lords to take interest in courting untitled young ladies, but dukes were considerably higher ranked than lords and rarely courted or married outside of their titles.

How interesting. She’d enjoy getting to know more about him as long as he let her.

“As you wish, Your Grace.”

~~~

Lord Duma was a fine dancer, and Steph enjoyed their turn around the room, but dancing with Duke Head was something else entirely. They fit together perfectly, in such synchronization that they seemed to be floating over the dancefloor.

“You are a wonderful dancer, Your Grace.”

“A dancer is only as good as their partner, I’ve been told.”

Steph smiled, mentally recording the feel of his large hands over hers, the faint smoky scent of his cologne, the soft swish of air as it flowed over her exposed skin. Dancing had always been a passion of hers, but it was difficult to find partners with whom she connected so well.

“What you were saying earlier, about a Lady Gotham,” said the Duke. “I did not know there was such a title here.”

Steph answered his unasked question. “Lady Gotham is a pseudonym for some author who has recently begun to write about society’s banalities and scandals. The ton is quite invested in both the papers she prints and the mask she wears. No one knows who it is, and so far it is one of the season’s biggest topics of conversation.”

“Ah. Thank you for explaining, Miss Brown.”

“It is quite alright with me if you address me as Miss Stephanie or Miss Steph, Your Grace.”

“As you wish, Miss Stephanie. You seem rather…how shall I put this…distant from society. Aside from Lord Duma and myself, you have not danced or talked with any acquaintances.”

Steph laughed. “I am not well acquainted with most of the ton, Your Grace. I am a miss, not a lady, and I am not in the habit of associating with double-faced, backstabbing socialites. I prefer intelligent conversation, even if I am here to find a husband, but it truly seems like the two are mutually exclusive.”

He barked a short laugh, pulling her infinitesimally closer. “It does seem that you are either doomed to marry or become a book-loving spinster, does it not? As if you cannot marry and love books, or be unmarried and detest the things.”

“Indeed. My sponsor for the season is happily married, and she has one of the largest libraries I have seen.”

She twirled, coming back to the duke’s arms.

“I suppose I am simply setting my sights too high. She had a better beginning than I, and she already was acquainted with her husband; their families have always been friendly. And that is not in the cards for me. If I must marry for my family’s sake, then I will have to set aside dreams of love and books and loving books. Such is the way of life,” she mused sadly.

Duke Altheban twirled her again. “Surely someone here also loves books, at least? They are lords and barons, they have to have studied. Speaking purely hypothetically, what about the Duke of Bristol?”

“Tim?” Steph laughed. “No, it would never work between us, for many reasons.”

“Oh, you’ve met?”

“A time or two,” she grinned. The last strains of the music faded away, and the sudden rush of chatter from the dancers surrounding them made talking difficult.

“Time for another tart, perhaps, Miss Stephanie?” asked the duke, leading her over to the quieter refreshment table.

“If you offer it to me, I’d hate to refuse, Your Grace-ooh, waffles!”

“I take it you like the pastries?”

“Very much. The chef here always makes the best cream to eat with them.” Steph groaned as the treat hit her taste buds.

The duke followed her lead of spooning the cream onto the waffle bite and eating it. “That is quite good. Oh, hello, Harper.”

“Stephanie,” nodded Roy, turning back to the duke. “You really must come with me now, Jason. You’re finally here and we can fulfill all those adventures we spoke about on our European trip!”

“Very well. Miss Stephanie.” He kissed her fingers in farewell.

Her fingers tingled from the press of his lips the rest of the night.

~~~

“That was fast,” laughed Waylon the next week after Jason ended their spar.

Jason glared at him from under the fringe of his hair. “You can shove whatever else you want to say right up your-”

“Did you see what Lady Gotham wrote about you?” interrupted his friend/investee.

“No, what?” he grumbled, curiosity piqued.

Waylon pulled out the paper and balanced his spectacles on his nose.

Clearing his throat, he read eloquently, “‘ There is nothing the ton likes more than talking about themselves, unless it is talking about others.

‘The most common question heard at the Waynes’ soiree was ‘Who is the Duke of Altheban’? He was certainly well-acquainted with several of the lords of this fair city, but no one–except myself–knows more than these three facts: firstly, the duke has spent the last several years traveling the continent and making connections for his merchant business.

‘Secondly, he originally hails from the land of Nanda Parbat, where his dukedom is located.

‘Thirdly, he is a most desirable catch, being young, rich, and single, of which only one of these attributes society truly considers necessary. He is also reportedly an excellent dancer, although sparing with his partners.

‘But, fourthly, the duke is looking for something in particular from this season and this society. Could it be a wife? A new business partner? Whatever it is, this author is sure that we all are eager to learn more’ .”

Jason dropped his head into his hands in frustration. He’d forgotten just how vicious society’s gossip was. Whichever event he next attended, he was surely going to be flocked even more than he’d been at the soiree.

And he was back to his problem. Miss Stephanie Brown. A poor young socialite who was looking for a husband, all details which should have made him flee instead of being drawn to her. Yet she had been a breath of fresh air. Even after she learned of his status, she did not change her behaviour, and had given him the most pleasant conversation with a woman who was not married or related to him he’d had in…ever. She’d openly admitted she was looking for a moneyed husband, which he could not blame her for, and clearly cared for her family, considering what she was willing to give up for them.

She clearly had more dimensions to her than most of the other young ladies had dresses, and he desperately wanted to explore more of them.

“-son!”

“Hm?”

“Wow, you have it bad.” Waylon shook his head in mock sympathy. “What’s the lady’s name?”

“Ste-what young lady?”

Waylon looked at him, unimpressed. “The one you’re thinking about and can’t stop thinking about. I’d like to meet this woman who’s managed to make you reconsider your stance on marriage this fast.”

“I’m not reconsi-” Jason paused, realisation washing over him, and swore violently.

Waylon patted him on the shoulder and laughed, the traitor.

“I’m not marrying her!” he yelled after the boxer.

He laughed louder.

~~~

Steph knew that she was being impractical, but didn’t particularly care. She’d have to live with her practicability soon enough, she was going to take this moment while she could to daydream.

The babblings of a baby roused her from her thoughts of dancing with Duke Altheban, and she peeked into Emma’s carriage.

“Hello, darling. Have you woken up from your nap, sweetie? I knew the fresh air would be good for you, and look at that! You’ve finally slept longer than an hour!” She cooed to the baby, turning the carriage to head home. “Yes, I imagine you’ll be hungry rather soon, I’ll get you back, never fear.”

The afternoon stroll in the sunlight had done both Emma and Steph good, the fresh air giving them both an appetite. Once Steph had gotten Emma fed and back in her crib, she started making the evening meal, feeling the beginning pangs of hunger in her stomach as well.

The door opened just as she’d finished setting the table and she greeted the arrival with a small smile. “Good evening. Emma’s been walked and fed and is now asleep, and supper is ready. Wash up and I’ll have it on the table.”

“Thanks, Steph.”

~~~

Jason looked around the Crowns’ ballroom for a familiar head of blonde curls but found nothing. So far his sudden appearance on the ton’s scene hadn’t caused any major questions of his identity; even the Waynes were quiet, though he knew better than to dismiss them simply because he didn’t see evidence of their activities.

Dick walked in, Babs wheeling herself beside him, nodding politely to acquaintances as they passed. And there, just behind the couple, was Stephanie Brown.

That would explain Stephanie’s familiarity with the Waynes, if Babs was her sponsor, as Jason gathered from what she had shared. He laughed inwardly at the thought of Tim’s immersive nerdiness and Stephanie’s bubbly interests meshing. No wonder she’d laughed when he’d half-jokingly suggested Tim as a solution to her marriage problem.

Jason tapped the side of his glass thoughtfully as he subconsciously tracked her circle around the room.

She needed a husband, and he was going to find her one. He didn’t want to marry, but he could find her someone. She was only somewhat younger than him, which in society’s eyes was fairly old for a debutante–though not for a man, who was always eligible and never shelved with a derogatory title, Lady Gotham had noted a day or two earlier.

She needed a man older than her, which removed several of the more juvenile options, and one who was respectful of women, which sadly removed even more.

He thought back to what else she had said. Stephanie was looking for money, someone to support her family. He supposed he should figure out just how large her family was first and how much her future husband should expect to pay up, first.

The best way to find out such information was by asking the woman in question, of course. Jason approached the woman in the lavender gown, holding out his hand in silent question. She turned, sensing him, and accepted with a wide smile.

They moved swiftly onto the floor in time with the quartet, settling into a comfortable rhythm.

“How have you been, Your Grace?”

“Well, thank you. How have you been, Miss Stephanie?”

“Oh, rather well. I visited a friend yesterday and had a lovely walk in the sun. It seems rather rare for this city, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed, it’s rather a gloomy place. Do you enjoy nature?”

She moved to another man, then back to him in turn.

“Oh, definitely. Although I must admit, I quite enjoy the comforts of home, meagre as they may be, when there is a blizzard raging outside. My fondness for it does not extend quite so far.”

Jason chuckled. “I can’t blame you for that; I rather agree with you there. Is that your mother?” he nodded towards an older lady with blonde hair curled similar to Stephanie’s.

She smiled slightly. “No, that is Lady Aurora. My mother would never be invited to such an event–I’m only here because the Duchess of Bludhaven is sponsoring me. My mother is a nurse in the Bowery.”

The Bowery. The polite name for the red light district, known for its crime and pleasure houses. A place Jason was intimately familiar with, much against his desire.

“A nurse, how noble of her. It’s hard work, I imagine.” He gently spun her into a twirl.

Stephanie seemed grateful, knowing he knew exactly where the Bowery was but hadn’t let on that he did. “Yes, it is, but she is good at it. I’m proud of her.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

Nothing like asking point-blank–in Jason’s experience, pointed questions yielded the clearest results, since there was nothing to be confused or semantical about.

“No, I’m an only child. My father is… was an entertainer, but he got injured some time ago and is now recovering at home.”

Ah, that was why she needed the marriage. He could read between the lines easily enough. Well, only having parents-in-law to support would be easy enough to sell to a prospective suitor, he supposed. It certainly beat having a dozen siblings to also support.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Miss Stephanie. My father was also injured before he died, and my mother had consumption. It was heartbreaking to see. I wish your father the best.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Your Grace. I shall pass on your wishes to my father. Thank you.” She curtsied and stepped away, clearly ending the conversation.

Jason wished to speak with her more, but he had the information he had wanted.

Surely there wouldn’t be more than one Brown family in the Bowery comprised of a nurse and entertainer.

~~~

Steph cuddled Emma in her arms, cooing at the baby’s chubby cheeks. “You’re adorable, yes you are. The sweetest baby I ever saw.”

Dancing around the room with the baby, making her giggle with high-pitched laughter, lightened the weight on her mind. Nothing else mattered when she was with Emma.

A man passing by the window had a build and hair similar to Duke Altheban, reminding her of the times they had danced together at the past several events.

“I wish he was courting me, but I know he’s not looking for a bride. And even if he was, it certainly wouldn’t be someone like me,” she told the child pulling at her dress’s neckline. “I mean, look at me,” she laughed.

“But he’s such a gentleman, Emmy. He’s considerate and funny and smart and well-read and respectful and attentive and handsome and such a good dancer–not like Lord Mayburn–and he’s traveled and he speaks seven languages, he told me. Seven, Emma!” She exclaimed to the non-responsive child. “I only know English and passable French, and a few words in Latin and Spanish. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s a duke and a successful merchant. He’s the perfect man, Emma…but not for me. But, if I can even keep him as a friend, that would be worth it.

“Do you think it would be strange if I asked him for his opinion on some of the men I’m thinking of flirting with to get them to court me? I wouldn’t want to make him think I’m hinting at him courting me–I’m sure he’s tired of women throwing themselves at him…literally, like Eugenia Sorren,” she shuddered at the memory.

“But men talk differently around women they’re courting than other men, and maybe the duke would know something that I don’t that could help me with my decision. If I’m going to marry for money and not love, I should at least make sure it’s to a decent man I can be friends with, right? Friendship is the foundation for love, or so Babs says. Yes, I should ask him, but clarify it first so that he knows I’m not suggesting anything,” she decided, nodding her head. “Good chat, Emma. Thank you for your insightful contribution.”

The baby spat up on her dress in response.

~~~

Jason pulled at the button on his glove’s wrist as he stood outside the weathered door opening onto the dirt street. He hoped Stephanie wouldn’t be too piqued with him if she discovered he’d done this.

A woman who looked much like an older Stephanie, only with brown hair and green eyes instead of Stephanie’s blonde and blue, answered the door. Her eyes trailed from his freshly-shined boots up to the crisp knot of his cravat, and slowly widened as she took him in.

“May I help you, My Lord?”

“Are you Mrs. Brown, ma’am?”

“Yes, I am.” She eyed him warily now. Rich folks looking for you was never a good sign, he was well aware.

“Is your husband in?”

“Yes.”

“Is now a good time to speak with you, then? I can return later if it’s more convenient, but I’d like to speak with you and your husband.”

“Now is as good a time as any, My Lord,” she replied, ushering him into the house and taking his hat. “May I take your coat and gloves?”

“Thank you.”

She showed him to the dated front room, where a man sat in a cushioned chair, reading the paper.

“Arthur, we have a visitor. I’ll go put on the tea while you talk to…” she looked to him for help.

“Jason Head. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Brown, Mrs Brown.”

Mrs Brown nodded at his polite introduction and headed to what he assumed was the kitchen, leaving him alone with her husband.

“So, what brings you to my humble home this afternoon, Mr Head?” asked the man gruffly, setting the paper aside.

“I understand you have a daughter?”

“Yes, Stephanie.”

“I’ve made her acquaintance recently, and her telling me about her family prodded me to pay you a visit.”

“Whatever for?” asked the man, finally gesturing for him to sit down.

Jason hemmed and hawed for a minute, trying to figure out the most tactful way to phrase it. Talia was always telling him to polish his blunt, sometimes borderline impolite, honesty.

“I wanted to meet the folks that would make a lady like that…” he trailed off, suddenly rethinking his whole endeavour. What was he doing? Meeting the parents of the woman he was trying to find a bridegroom for so he wouldn’t be forced to confront his own feelings for her?

Mrs Brown came bustling into the room a moment later, a steaming pot of tea on the tray in her hands, alongside a plate of baked goods.

He jumped up, taking the tray from her and setting it on the table before heading to the hallway to retrieve his things. “I apologize for disrupting your afternoon. I’m sorry, I’ve just started to feel unwell, I must leave. Good day Mr Brown, Mrs Brown.”

Tipping his hat at the confused couple, he practically ran to his horse, swinging onto Jericho’s saddle carelessly.

Kicking Jericho into a trot, he made his escape. From behind him, he thought he heard a confused “Your Grace?” being called after him.

He nudged Jericho even faster, heading to the fields in an attempt to outrun his feelings.

~~~

Stephanie ran up the steps to her house, surprised to see her mother in the doorway already.

“Was that the Duke of Altheban I saw riding by just now?” she demanded incredulously.

“Who?”

“Oh, nevermind. Thought I saw someone I knew. How was your day, Mama?”

“It was good,” Crystal Brown said, closing the door after her daughter. “I was just saying goodbye to this visitor who dropped by unannounced.”

“Hello, Papa. What’s this I hear about a visitor?” Steph took in the tea tray on the table, pouring three cups. “You even brought out the china,” she noted with surprise.

“He looked important, that Mr Head,” explained her mother.

Steph choked on her tea. “Your visitor said he was Jason Head?!”

“That’s right. How do you know his first name?” asked Arthur suspiciously.

“What was he here for?!”

“I couldn’t really say. He only stayed a couple minutes. Didn’t even have a cup of tea! Said he was feeling ill suddenly–I didn’t even get the chance to say I’m a nurse.”

“He said he wanted to meet the folks of a lady he’d met–you,” said Arthur. “Would you like to explain why we got this surprise visitor?”

“I’d love to explain that but I don’t have a clue, myself,” sputtered Steph. “I never even gave him your address or names.”

“Is he courting you, Steph?” asked her mother.

“No. We’re…friends, I guess. We dance at parties and talk over punch but that’s it. He’s not looking for a wife, and even if he was, he wouldn’t look at me. Foreign dukes don’t marry untitled old maids from the red light district with-”

“Steph, don’t say that about yourself, honey.” Crystal pulled her into her arms. “You’re a catch for any-did you say he’s a duke?”

Steph nodded. “Lady Gotham says he’s close with the royal family of Nanda Parbat, that’s how he became duke there.”

“A duke in my home! I never thought I’d see the day!”

~~~

Jason cut the connection to Talia’s two-way magical communication stone and sighed. She’d helped him through facing his feelings for Steph (she was much better at that than Waylon), and now he had a directive.

Back to the Browns’ it was.

She was at a friend’s house for the afternoon, but she had accepted an invitation to the Dumas’ ball that evening.

Jason thanked Crystal for her help and headed back to Jericho. The day was sunny but not too warm, so he decided to enjoy the fresh air a little longer and plot out what he would say when he saw her.

For a moment, he thought he was so invested that he was imagining seeing her, but no, there she was in all her glory, walking down the street…pushing a baby pram.

“Miss Stephanie!”

She glanced around, then up, surprise covering her face. “Your Grace?”

“May I join you?”

Her eyes flicked from the pram to Jericho to him, then she nodded slowly.

He slid out of the saddle and strolled beside her, leading Jericho along the edge of the street, such as it was.

“What are you doing here?”

“I…was just out for a ride after I visited your parents. I wished to speak with you, but you were out. This was pure coincidence.”

“It’s a lovely day for a ride,” she agreed, subdued.

“Are you alright? Not overcome with heat?” Jason bit back any more comments, recalling that women did not take the concern as such.

“I am fine, thank you.” She glanced in the pram, then back to him. “Not going to ask?”

“I didn’t think it was my business to ask.”

“This is my best friend’s baby, Emma. Sarah died in childbirth.” She turned to him. “Not a happy or comfortable story, I’m sure. Her father is working, so I often take care of her.”

“Who cares for her when you are busy?”

“One of the neighbours usually looks in on her. She’s a very easy baby,” Steph smiled, cooing at the child.

“How old is she?”

“About eight months.”

“You like children, then?” he asked, very much hoping she did.

“I do. What about you?”

“I love them, and they tend to like me, I find.”

Steph turned to a small house and opened the door. “I’ve just got to feed Emma and put her down for her nap. Would you like to wait in the parlour?”

“If it’s not an imposition. I can-”

“No, no trouble at all. Her father should be home soon and we can talk while you escort me home, if you don’t mind?”

“That sounds delightful, Miss Stephanie.” He tossed Jericho’s reins to a boy standing around. “Want a job?”

“Yes, mister,” he nodded, gap-toothed grin wide.

“If you make sure my horse here doesn’t run away in the next while, I’ll give you two more of these, what d’ya say?” He placed a shiny coin in the boy’s hand, smiling at his awed grin and ruffling his hair. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

Jason made himself comfortable on the sofa in the parlour, watching Steph move around the kitchen heating up milk for Emma with smooth, oft-practiced movements. The house was small, with one hallway connecting the foyer, kitchen/dining room, parlour, and bedroom. With all the inside doors open, Jason perused the house at his leisure, often pausing to watch Steph instead.

She fed the baby, burped her, and put her to rest in the bedroom.

The faint sound of a lullaby drifted to Jason’s ears, and he closed his eyes to focus better on her song. She had a lovely voice.

Once Emma was asleep, Steph closed the door and joined him in the parlour. “I often leave supper for Emma’s father. Would you mind joining me in the kitchen while I prepare it?”

“Certainly not. Would you like my help with anything? Fetching wood for the fire, perhaps?”

“Oh, no, that’s not necessary.”

Steph deftly spun a cast-iron skillet on her palm and Jason noted to be very careful around her, especially when she had a possible weapon in her hands.

“So, how did you find my parents, Your Grace?” she asked, slicing potatoes.

“I asked around. I have some contacts in every part of the city, I imagine, and I knew yours were in the Bowery.”

“Then, why did you find my parents?”

“I wanted to meet the people you loved enough to give up your own love for.”

Steph’s knife paused, then resumed its slicing, slower than before. “And that’s all?”

“That’s the meat of it.”

She turned to the stove, her back to him, tossing the potatoes in with a healthy chunk of lard.

Jason had just begun to worry she’d decided never to speak to him again when she turned, shaking the potatoes onto a plate before immediately turning back around to cut something up..

“I suppose it’s none of my business. Thank you for waiting for me.”

“You’re more than welcome.” He resumed his seat on the sofa, glancing out the window at the sun setting on the horizon. Someone walking up the path caught his eye.

“There’s a man approaching,” he called to Steph.

“That’ll be Dean; I’ll be ready to go in a minute.”

Jason heard the door open, the sounds of someone coming in and making themself at home quiet. The man walked straight into the kitchen.

Steph greeted him cheerfully. “Good evening, Dean. Supper is warm in the oven, and Emma’s sleeping. I’ll be out of your hair in a moment.”

“Thanks, Steph, it smells good. But what if you don’t get out of my hair?”

Jason stiffened at the tone. He didn’t like how familiar this Dean was being to Steph, but he chalked it up to mere jealousy. The sight of Dean grasping Steph’s wrist, however, was something more than jealousy.

Steph saw him stand and silently asked him to stay back. He nodded, acquiescing for the moment, but stayed standing.

“What do you mean, Dean? It wouldn’t be prope-”

“Oh, come on, Steph, who cares what’s proper? Proper is for the snobs. You and I both know that no matter how much you end up in those society papers, you’ll never be a real lady. You’re from here, Stephie, you know no one gives a damn about us. No one would care about us and our ‘property’.”

Propriety , Steph mouthed to herself. “Dean, let go of me. You’re not doing yourself any favours by disparaging my ladylike reputation.”

“Oh look at you, Miss Brown,” Dean mocked, “all snooty with your fancy words. You think you’re better than me, huh? Just ‘cause your Duchess got your back? You think you’re better than Sarah was?”

“No, I do not. Sarah was better than me and she was certainly better than you. Social status has no bearing on a true gentleman, Dean. For the final time, I will not sleep with you, nor will I marry you so you can sleep with me.” Steph pulled her knife from behind her back and held it to Dean’s chin, leaning into his personal space. “Let. Me. Go. Now.”

Shakily, the man released his grip, practically flinging her away from him. “You crazy whore!”

“And never call me that again.” Steph tossed the knife at his chair, the point embedding itself in the wood between Dean’s legs.

She brushed her loosened locks out of her face, straightened her dress, and approached Jason with a smile. “I’m ready to go.”

He grabbed her hat and cloak and escorted her as quickly as he could out of the residence.

“Are you okay, Miss Stephanie?”

The cool twilight air was refreshing, cooling his overheated blood from watching the altercation. He walked calmly beside Jericho, collected from the kid and given double the pay since the time had extended.

She nodded and gave him a small, fake smile. “I will be. His words don’t hold much weight, but even a single sheet of paper can cause you to bleed.”

“You handled yourself remarkably back there. If I may ask, how did you learn to throw a knife that accurately?”

“My father worked as an entertainer at the circus for several years,” she explained. “I became friends with many of the performers there and during the quiet times, many of them taught me their specialties. I had an affinity for the knife tricks and acrobatics, among others.”

“A woman of many talents, indeed,” he complimented with a surprised grin. “Is it safe to leave Emma there?”

“She will be fine for the short term. I’ll go get her and her things in a day or two once he’s calmed down and bring her home.”

“Would you like an escort?” He saw her look and hastily added, “In case there is more luggage than you can carry when you’ve also got the baby?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, that would be very helpful. Thank you.”

“I live to serve, my lady.”

~~~

The next week, Jason barely saw Stephanie at all, as she was occupied with caring for Emma and getting her settled into her new home. She had turned down several invitations, and Jason began to wonder if he should even bother attending the last few events of the season at all.

Then Steph showed up at the Waynes’ Summer Celebration Ball, the event that heralded the beginning of the season’s end.

She looked beautiful in her new lilac dress, the blooms entwined in her updo. Jason bet Babs had a hand in that.

She was popular tonight, and Jason didn’t get a chance to dance with her or even talk before her card filled up and she was handed around.

Doing his best not to lose his temper at something so beyond their control, he headed out the open patio doors to the garden, enjoying the quiet from the boisterous event and the beauty of nature. He still preferred it on Stephanie.

He didn’t know how long he’d been brooding in the gardens (far too long and far too much like his previous father figure for his liking) when he noticed a flash of lilac in the maze.

“Miss Stephanie?” He followed her, only catching glimpses of the silk as he headed deeper and deeper into the maze.

As he walked, the layout came back to him. He could see the path Steph had been taking, and he knew a shortcut. Granted, he’d grown both in height and width, but he’d been very careful not to lose his flexibility along with his scrawniness. If he just cut through…

His arms came out, supporting Steph as she ran into him with a muffled shriek.

“I apologise for scaring you, Miss Stephanie. Are you quite alright?”

“No,” she panted. “Dean…after me…”

“What?” His head jerked up, looking around for the odious man.

“He was following me, I tried to lose him, thought you were him,” she breathed, not moving away from his hold.

“I’ll have Wayne’s men spread out and look for the man, okay?” he said, brushing a loose curl behind her ear.

She nodded, smiling up at him gratefully, before suddenly realising their position and jumping away. “Oh, my.”

“My apologies, Miss Stephanie. I’ll escort you back to the ballroom and then find Wayne.”

He tucked her arm into his and headed down the quickest way out of the maze.

“You seem to know this maze quite well, Your Grace.”

He shrugged. “I’m good with directions.”

~~~

Jason did not call Wayne’s men. Jason headed out to the grounds alone..

Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, letting the velvety scent of Alfred’s roses, the mingled perfumes of the party, and the rich scent of damp earth fill his nose.

The hoot of an owl sounded deep in the woods behind the Manor, blending with the chittering of bats flying about eating bugs and the muted strains of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony from the ballroom.

Light tremors under his feet told him that someone was approaching him. He inwardly snickered. Trying to be stealthy, the fool. He was trained by the League of Assassins, who lived–nay, thrived–in the shadows.

He turned, unable to see his companion’s face as they were backlit by the Manor. “Is that you, Harper?” he drawled, striking a match and lighting a cigar.

He didn’t care for the things after…well, after , but sometimes a man needed a cigar to light to see his companion’s face.

“You’re not Harper,” he said brilliantly, lifting the cigar to his lips.

“You bet your lily-white ass I ain’t,” snarled Dean Smith, the glow of Jason’s cigar reflecting on the silver blade of his knife.

“No, you’re Dean Smith, widower of Sarah Smith and father to Emma Smith, employee at the My Alibi saloon, where you apparently take supporting your job a little too seriously. You’re also someone who insulted the woman I intend to marry, and I don’t take that lightly. She’s too good for you to even look at her, nevermind propose you touch her.”

“Oh, what are you going to do, my lord?” Dean bowed mockingly. “I saw you at my house with her. So she’s too good for me, but not too good to take your lordly c-”

Jason punched his lights out in one blow. Apparently Waylon might have some truth to his words of having a thicker skull than average.

He put out his cigar and pocketed the knife Dean had dropped. Sauntering up the hill to the ballroom, he caught one of Bruce’s footmen’s attention.

“There’s an uninvited guest having a little snooze out in the garden. Bring him to the Commisioner, please, and tell him to hold him overnight for disturbing the peace. Thanks.”

Humming the final bars to the Symphony along with the musicians, he opened the patio doors and entered the ballroom.

The chatter died instantly as everyone turned to look at him. He looked back in confusion. He was sure no one had seen him punch Dean, and anyways, he was a duke and Dean a commoner. No one here would care, he sneered inwardly.

Steph’s watery blue eyes met his from her place in Babs’s arms and she shook her head minutely. He frowned a little, confused. He knew she hadn’t seen him punch Dean out, and he was fairly sure she’d praise him for it, anyways.

He missed the punch thrown his way by a blur of black and blue.

~~~

Steph rubbed her thumb nervously over Jason’s, his hand between hers. His eyelids fluttered and his gorgeous teal eyes stared into hers. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She smiled back. “You’re awake.”

“What happened?” He sat up, running his free hand along his facial features. “ Ow .”

She winced in sympathy. “Sorry about that.”

“You did this?” He turned to her in disbelief. “Did I do something?”

“Did you do something?” came an echoing growl of disbelief from the doorway.

Steph winced again. “Dick, stop .”

“No, I will not.”

“ Dick . Let me explain. In peace ,” she gritted out. “It’s the least you could do after punching His Grace out and making a big deal out of nothing !”

Dick huffed and opened his mouth to retort, but subsided at her fierce glare.

She turned back to Jason.

“I am so sorry for him. What happened was that Lady Adelia Elliot was getting proposed to by Lord Duma in the garden and saw me, alone with you, in the garden, and then loudly announced that the garden was the most lovely, romantic spot to get engaged in, and she hoped we had found it to be like that as well, which, of course, meant that society is convinced that I am compromised and a whore and we should get married to get back in their good graces. But not too fast, because that would mean I’m with child. Which is ridiculous, I mean, in the garden ? All wet and pokey? No, thank you.”

Jason huffed a laugh. “Thank you for that explanation. So I assume that blur that was the last thing I saw was Duke Bludhaven over there protecting your honour?”

“More or less,” she admitted. “I am so sorry for this mess.”

“Nonsense, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have followed you knowing what society would think of it. I’m sorry for putting you in this situation. As a man, my reputation is much less delicate than yours, and I sincerely apologize.”

Dick snorted from his doorway, the heavily implied ‘you should be’ hanging in the air.

“Steph, can you give me a minute with His Grace?”

She sighed but nodded, removing her hand from Jason's. “You get one free punch,” she stage-whispered as she left, leaving him with a smile on his face.

It was the least she could do after being part of the cause of this fiasco.

~~~

“What happened out in the garden?” Dick demanded immediately, taking Steph’s chair as soon as she was gone.

Jason straightened his position on his chair in response. How do you like being the little brother now, huh?

“I was outside, enjoying the fresh air in the gardens, when I noticed Miss Brown entering the maze. I followed her, as I had been intending to speak with her this evening. When I found her, she told me a man she knows had been following her. I escorted her back to the courtyard. I stayed out longer for a cigar and saw a commoner with a knife. He threatened me and insulted her, so I punched him and had one of Wayne’s men take him to your father-in-law.”

Dick stared at him, measuring his words.

“Are you interested in courting Stephanie?”

“I was attempting to get her attention tonight to talk to her about that. I would like nothing more than to court Stephanie Brown with the intention of marriage.”

Dick nodded once. “Good. Your timeline is moved up; you will marry her once the banns are read.”

“If she says no?” Jason asked curiously.

Dick sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “She won’t.”

Jason raised his eyebrow but dropped the subject. Nodding curtly to Dick, he exited the small study he’d been sat in while he was unconscious.

Alone, he ran his hand over his nose and jaw once more. Thank goodness for Lazarus-enhanced healing; he could feel the bruises already beginning to fade. With a sigh he dropped his head to inspect his boots.

How was he going to break the news to his lovely bride-to-be?

~~~

Dearest gentle Reader,

Nothing is more sought-after by society than a scandal, which is the lemon to our tea, the butter to our bread, and the very reason I picked up my quill.

I have picked it up once more to inform you all of the latest scandal, which has set the whole ton abuzz.

The Waynes’ annual Summer Celebration Ball last night was a veritable goldmine of news. Lady Adelia Elliot is engaged to be married to Lord Aleksander Duma, a fine match indeed.

But the true scandal comes from the revelation Lady Adelia shared with the ton as she announced her engagement, namely, that Miss Stephanie Brown and the Duke of Altheban were seen in the garden together, unchaperoned.

Rumours have been shared with many that the protegee of the Duchess of Bludhaven has borne a child out of wedlock, with sources saying they have seen her with an infant many times.

Thus, it is to my surprise that I share with you the news of the Duke’s engagement to Miss Brown. Perhaps he has not been so recently appeared in our midst as he would have us believe?

Steph threw the paper across the room. A hand caught it in its fluttering descent. She turned in surprise. “Your Grace?”

“Good afternoon, Miss Brown,” he bowed over her hand politely, then turned back to peruse the paper.

“Please, don’t-”

“I already know what they are saying, Miss Stephanie. It appears even being a man and a duke does only so much for my reputation.”

She winced.

“I wonder if I accidentally slighted this Lady Gotham somehow? She certainly does not pull her punches,” he shook his head.

“I am sorry that you are put in this mess because of me–and because of Dick. I can try and reason with him, to let you out of whatever ridiculous plan he’s cooked up to attempt to salvage my–our–reputations. It’s been sensationalized for the papers, of course–they’re even saying we’re engaged, for goodness’ sake!”

Jason coughed. “Yes, about that…I came here to ask you to come somewhere with me.”

She paused, then shrugged and drew closer to him. “Where?”

“Do you know how to ride?”

“Yes.”

“Lovely! There’s a beautiful spot I’ve found that I’d like to show you.”

“It’s not like our reputations can get worse,” she decided. “Lead the way, Your Grace.”

The ride was peaceful, with only Jason and the sounds of nature to torment her. The green grass, the texture of the trees, the birds wheeling through the air, the smell of fresh sea breeze all painted a lovely picture.

Jason nudged her horse to the left, towards a short copse of trees. They arrived at a large flat stone, spread with a blanket and cushions, a basket sitting in the midst.

Jason slid off Jericho and offered her his hand to dismount her horse, Spoiler.

“I thought you might like a picnic.”

“This is lovely.” She took in the preparations and the view, realising that this was the type of thing a man did for the lady he was courting.

“Your Grace…are you courting me?” she asked slowly, unsure which answer she wanted to hear.

He looked up from the wine he was pouring into two glasses, the white streak in his hair failing into his eyes. He looked so casual and comfortable there, and her heart did a funny beat.

“What if I am? Would you accept it?”

She settled onto one of the fluffy cushions, picking at a bunch of grapes. “If this is about the scandal…”

“It is not.”

She decided to take his word for it and popped the grape in her mouth. The lunch went smoothly, the two of them easily settling into their usual conversation comfortably.

Then Jason pulled out something from the basket. She was sure they’d exhausted its contents and opened her mouth to politely refuse.

Then he revealed his hand and looked up at her earnestly. “Stephanie Brown, will you do me the honour of marrying me and becoming my wife?”

Her mouth snapped shut, unsure what to say. His steady smile made her want to melt and agree to anything, but she didn’t want to jump into what would be the rest of her life.

“Are you sure? This isn’t something Dick is making you do? I assure you, I will not be hurt if you retract your proposal.”

“My proposal has nothing to do with Duke Grayson and what is currently in the papers,” he assured her.

“Then, yes, I would be honoured to marry you, Your Grace.”

He slid the gold ring onto her finger, the light catching and playing on the amethyst set in it. “Now that we are engaged, you must stop calling me ‘Your Grace’ and instead call me Jason.”

“I will, but only if you drop the ‘Miss’,” she replied.

“Deal, Stephanie.”

“Deal, Jason.”

They shook on their first decision as a couple.

~~~

The next couple weeks, Steph barely saw her new fiance, occupied as she was with wedding planning and looking after Emma. That was another thing she needed to talk to him about.

Babs hadn’t been married that long ago, and she still knew all the best places to get the best deals for all the preparations, which was a huge help to Steph, who did not frequent the places that duchesses did.

Oh, she was going to be a duchess. She couldn’t stop the nauseated anxiety she felt, wondering if she had completely ruined her life beyond repair.

She really needed to talk to Jason.

“Steph, the duke is in Dick’s study, asking for you.” Babs told her, breaking her attention from the fabric swatches for her wedding breakfast’s napkins.

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Babs. Everything on the right here I’ve already dismissed.”

“I’ll have it removed, then, and replaced with some tea. Or would you like me to send it to the study so you can have it with His Grace?”

“I’ll ask him if he’s got enough time for tea,” Steph replied. “Just have it brought here and I’ll come get it if he does.”

Babs nodded in response and Steph headed out of the drawing room to the study down the hall.

She paused outside the door, hearing her name.

“-marry you. You were quicker than I expected, Head,” Dick sounded almost pleased.

“It’s not what I wanted, but I’m an opportunist; I couldn’t let the situation go to waste,” Jason replied.

“I’m pleased you did the right thing. Steph deserves what you can offer her.”

There was some sound from Jason but Steph didn’t listen, opening the door with a firm click.

~~~

“Babs said Jason was here,” Steph said neutrally, but Jason couldn’t tell if she’d overheard what he and Dick had been talking about or not. “Is there something we needed to discuss, Your Grace?” she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Not right now,” he replied slowly.

“Then it’s good to see you. I hope everything is going smoothly on your end, and I’ll see you in the church on Tuesday.”

He bowed his head as she left, turning back to Dick with a bewildered expression.

“Babs was very short with me when we got married, too. They’re busy planning the wedding breakfast, after all.”

He nodded, but thought it was a little more than that. He needed to speak with her privately, but they hadn’t had a moment alone, never mind a moment, since they were engaged.

~~~

Steph opened her window, frowning. Jason stood below, waving at her with a smile, dropping a handful of pebbles behind his back into the garden.

“It is nearly midnight, what do you want?” she called in a loud whisper, too tired and put out to care about niceties.

“I’m sorry it’s so late, but will you come down for a minute so we can talk, please?”

She huffed and closed the window. They were getting married in ten hours, what couldn’t wait until then to say? Unless…they weren’t getting married?

She threw her robe on, yanked the tie shut, and speedily tiptoed down the steps, avoiding the creaky ones, to the side door, where Jason was waiting.

“Thank you,” he said when he saw her. “I needed to ask you what you heard when I was talking to Grayson in the study.”

“Why?” she looked at him sternly. “Is there something I need to know?”

“No. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t misunderstand a fragment of conversation you didn’t have context to.”

“Tell me, then, what were you talking about before I came in?”

“Grayson was thanking me for proposing to you so quickly, and I was refusing his thanks because I did not do it for him.”

That sounded rather rehearsed . “Well, then, sounds like everything’s clear,” she crossed her arms. “Anything else to say, Your Grace?”

“We’re alone, can’t you call me Jason?”

“I am capable of that, yes.”

“You seem angry at me, but I don’t know why. If I did or said something, could you at least tell me so I can apologise or attempt to fix it?”

She huffed at his rational words. “I’m being unfair. Just let me hold this grudge for ten more hours, okay?”

He gave her a perplexed look but agreed.

“Oh, I also wanted to speak to you…would you mind terribly if I brought Emma with me?”

“Of course not. I assumed you were part of the same parcel, I have a room already prepared for her.”

“You do?” she asked in disbelief.

“I’d show it to you, but I’m afraid that would be even more scandalous than what we’re doing right now,” he grinned.

She punched his arm.

“Ow!”

“I’m sorry, did it actually hurt?” she gasped, running her hand gently over the spot she’d hit.

“No, it’s just a little sensitive from my boxing earlier.”

“You box?” She tilted her head. “I could see that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t mean anything by it, I just- your figure-”

There was no way to save herself, and she gave up with a blush as he grinned at her, pleased.

~~~

Babs was Steph’s witness, and Roy stood with Jason, the rest of their handful of family and friends filling the two front rows of pews in the church. The ceremony was short and simple, and the congregation headed to the fancier wedding breakfast held in the Graysons’ manor, in lieu of the bride’s house.

The couple were bounced from person to person, receiving well-wishes and advice, most of which they ignored.

Finally Babs gave Steph the signal to leave, and she breathed a sigh of relief at the escape.

Jason handed her into his carriage, then sprang in after her, still holding her hand.

They waved the remaining well-wishers off and headed to Jason’s home.

His home turned out to be a small (compared to ones like the Waynes’ or Kanes’) manor on the edge of the city, about halfway between the Waynes’ and Graysons’ and the Browns’. He had bought it before he even met her, but Steph still found it a happy convenience. Maybe it was a sign they were meant to be together.

“I apologize, there are very few servants around, since it was just me here and I don’t need much help,” explained Jason. “Feel free to hire whomever you think we need.”

“I grew up being the servant, Jason,” she reminded him. “I think I’ll manage with who you have now. Babs did recommend I get a maid now that…now that I’m a duchess; it’ll make things easier.”

Jason made an agreeing noise. “I had your things delivered already, so they should be in your rooms already.”

She glanced at him but he didn’t appear to notice, continuing the tour.

“I don’t use this wing much, but it’s in good shape if you want to have it turned into a music room or something.”

The tour continued, Jason pointing out his most-used rooms so she could find him easily. She enjoyed this peek into his life, measuring all the things he’d furnished his home with. It wasn’t nearly as fancy and pretentious as some of the other nobles’ houses, but seemed more lived-in and arranged for comfort and ease. If this was the bachelor touch she’d heard about, she couldn’t fathom why society hated it so.

Various items from his travels were scattered about, interspersed with weapons from different cultures and paintings and artwork from a range of eras. “You have lovely taste,” she complimented.

“Thank you. My mother would be proud to hear that–she taught me most of what I know.”

“Is your mother still alive?”

“Oh, yes, she’s quite well back in Nanda Parbat. I was meaning to ask you, what do you think about travelling to Altheban soon?”

Steph blinked. “I think that sounds lovely. How soon is ‘soon’?”

Jason hesitated. “Within three weeks?”

“That’s doable, then,” she agreed. “I won’t bother unpacking much of Emma’s or my things, then.”

“Where is Emma?” asked Jason.

“My mother said she’d keep her for the week until we got settled in, so she wouldn’t be in the midst of all the mess.”

“Oh. Thoughtful of her.”

~~~

Steph paced in her room, the continual breeze of her stride making the candles flicker every time she passed. She should’ve taken Babs up on her offer of a temporary maid until she found one herself. Now she was stuck in her dress, trying to figure out a way to get out without asking her brand-new husband for help.

Stupid fancy dresses.

Expelling her pride with a long sigh, she headed to the door separating her from Jason. It opened to reveal him shirtless, his back to her as he appeared to be fiddling with his pants.

She stepped back into her room, an apology on her lips, when he turned. “Did you need something?”

Her hand dropped from her face. “What happened?” she gasped, taking in the marks covering his body. She’d helped her mother often enough to know those were scars, and they weren’t easy to get.

“It’s nothing,” he shrugged, reaching for his discarded shirt.

“It’s not nothing,” she insisted. “Who hurt you?”

He took her hands in his, lowering them from tracing over the marks and facing her with a reassuring smile. “I’m okay, Steph. I’ve been in some…situations…of my own volition, and this was the price I paid. They’ve been healed and treated by a professional. I appreciate your worry, but I’m fine. I’m sorry, I should have warned you.”

“No, it’s my fault, I should have knocked. I apologise.”

“What did you want?”

She tore her gaze away from his well-defined chest muscles to meet his concerned teal gaze.

“I…my dress is too difficult to get in and out of,” she muttered. “Could you…?”

She turned her back to him, brushing her hair over one shoulder.

He took a breath and stepped closer. His fingers brushed against her neck as he brushed some stray strands out of the way.

She could feel his body heat behind her, warming her through and igniting a fire in her belly. Each accidental touch as he undid the buttons, each gust of air over her shoulder, every cell he touched as he undid the laces only stoked it higher.

The dress and corset loosened as the bands of anticipation tightened around her chest.

Her dress pooled around her ankles as it finally slipped free.

Jason released a long breath behind her. She barely felt the graze of his lips on her bare shoulder before they were gone.

His warmth moved away. He cleared his throat. “All done.”

She turned to face him, holding her breath. “Will you kiss me?”

He nodded once, shuffling forward so their toes touched and wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her to him. The other trailed up her arm lightly, raising the small hairs and making her shiver in anticipation.

Her eyes slid closed as his face drew nearer, and then his lips met hers. Softly at first, tentatively, feeling her out. She pushed back, determined not to let this be the only kiss they shared. The fire in her spread through her veins, making her wrap her arms around his neck and pull him into her.

The arm around her waist tightened, and he deepened the kiss, his fingers curling around her neck and kissing her back with just as much passion.

They finally separated, gasping for air, eyes dark and mouths panting.

“Do you really wanna do this?”

She nodded vigorously. “Do you?”

He snorted a half-laugh. “Look at you, of course I do.”

Then he pulled her closer and proceeded to kiss any further remarks out of her head.

Steph ended up naked as the day she was born on the bed, underclothes spread over the room, watching in fascination at just how fast a man could undress when he was truly motivated.

He looked up and returned her grin with a hungry one of his own. “Ready?”

“For whaaa-Jason!” she exclaimed as he grabbed her ankles and pulled her down the bed.

He grinned up at her surprise, head bracketed by her knees. “Hold on to the duvet.”

“For whaaa-Jason!”

He knelt between her thighs, licking at her core like a man starved. She grasped a handful of bedsheets, throwing her head back in pleasure as his nose bumped against her clit with every movement of his head, his steady ministrations quickly building her pleasure up to unbearable heights. She fell with a loud gasp of his name, hand flying to his head to grip his hair instead of the sheets.

He pulled away, licking his lips in a manner far too indecent, and gave her a pleased look. She scooted up the bed to lie against the pillows, and he joined her on the other side.

“Come straddle me,” he said, pulling her hand toward him to kiss her fingers.

Affection shone from his eyes, and she felt herself melting even further.

Settling over his hips, she leaned forward to kiss him softly, her fingers tracing the raised skin on his chest and arms. “Is it very dangerous in Nanda Parbat?”

“It’s probably the safest place you’ll be in the world,” he told her between kisses. “I think you’ll like it. You’ll fit right in, with your knife throwing.”

Steph thought that raised a few more questions, but then Jason was nibbling on her neck and she decided they could wait for later. The fire inside her had been temporarily held under control when he gave her that orgasm, but it was steadily burning hotter again.

She shivered as Jason’s warm hand brushed lightly over her belly, the sensitive skin there not used to touch. He moved to her legs, running his fingertips teasingly up her calves to her knees, then her thighs.

His head dipped even lower as his mouth found her breasts, heightening the flames within her. He still seemed so composed, even with her kissing up his neck and teasing his nipples.

She wanted to make him burn just as much as her.

His fingers trailed up to the apex of her thighs, finding her still thoroughly wet. One slid in, making her gasp in pleasure. Yes, that was what she needed. She felt so empty.

“More,” she told him breathily, nipping his earlobe. He added a second, finding her sweet spot and rubbing in just the right way. She shifted so the angle was better, feeling her orgasm coiling in her lower belly.

Her hand trailed down his chest, uncaring, until she reached his rather erect cock. His fingers paused as he let out a pained sound.

She wrapped her fingers around him slowly, stroking him at the same pace he was using on her. He added a third finger, stretching her nicely.

Abruptly he pulled his fingers out of her, leaning back to see her. “Please stop, or I’m not gonna last,” he asked, his other hand stilling her wrist. “Can I-”

“Please,” she begged, missing his fingers already. She could only imagine what his cock would feel like inside her.

Settling herself over it, she slowly slid down, relishing the look on Jason’s face. There, now he was showing how unravelled he was feeling. She took him until their pelvises met, swaying her hips teasingly.

Jason groaned. “Steph, please, don’t tease.”

Feeling too wound up and close to orgasm to be bratty, she began setting a steady pace. His fingers gripped her hips as an anchor as he began to thrust up to meet her. Her temporarily delayed orgasm came building up with a vengeance.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she came with a cry of his name; he followed after her.

They lay in each other’s arms, content to be skin-to-skin as they caught their breath.

Steph hummed contentedly as Jason ran his fingers up and down her spine.

“Was that good for you?”

“Of course it was–I orgasmed twice. What about you?”

“Better than good,” he kissed her quickly, then lay silent for a while. Finally he took a deep breath. “I know you married me because of the situation, but…do you think you could love me one day?”

Steph blinked rapidly at him, surprised at the sudden deep talk and the implications of the question.

“I didn’t marry you because of the situation,” she finally said. “Although that was certainly a part of it. I am already halfway in love with you, Jason. I know I’ll love you.”

“Really?”

She nodded definitively. “Really. Could you love me ?”

Jason kissed her softly, full of feeling. “I do love you. It’s hard not to, believe me, I tried.”

She narrowed her eyes at him but decided to drop it, snuggling further into his chest. “Would you have married me if we hadn’t been forced to?”

“When I was looking for you in the garden that night, it was to ask you if we could talk. I wanted to propose to you before…that, although it didn’t happen in the way I’d hoped,” he sighed.

“It’s not what I wanted, but I’m an opportunist; I couldn’t let the situation go to waste.”

Steph recalled his words from the study, context helping it make more sense. She kissed him thoroughly. “You make me happy, Jason Head.”

“You make me happy, Stephanie Head.”

Dearest Reader,

As the season comes to a close, so too does the Duke of Altheban’s stay with us. We wish the duke and duchess and their newly adopted daughter safe travels as they take their leave, heading to the Duke’s native lands in Nanda Parbat, where they are sure to have many more adventures. We hope to see the Head family back in our midst one day.

With the season over, so I too shall disappear from your lives, gone but I hope certainly not forgotten. Until next season,

Adieu.

Lady Gotham

A/N 3:

-Thank you for reading and to @jaysteph-events for hosting this <3 -Join the JaySteph Discord (18+)! -The Duma and Elliot families are from DC canon as Gothamite socialite families. Duma is Polish, so I used the Polish spelling of Alexander for Lord Duma’s name. I couldn’t think why that had a nice ring to it until I remembered Alexandre Dumas, the author. He’s a few decades later, though, so there’s no overlap between him and my character. -Nursing wasn’t exactly the respected career it is now, since it was pre-Florence Nightingale. Jason, having trained somewhat [my hc] with (Middle) Eastern healers, who were more advanced and hygienic, would have more respect for nurses. -Jason’s horse is named Jericho, not after Deathstroke's kid, but after the make of Jason’s primary guns. I’m pretty sure Jericho 941s didn’t exist in 1810, so I used the name for his horse instead. -I was listening to Beethoven’s 5th as I wrote the scene where it’s playing in the background. Classical music is surprisingly fun background music for a scene where a character gets punched in the face :) And to those of you curious about if the 5th symphony existed in 1810, yes, it did–I looked it up: Beethoven wrote it in 1808. -I purposefully left this somewhat open ended so I can come back and write more in this AU when I want, such as Steph meeting Talia and the Bats finding out Jason is their Jason. -If there’s something I left unclear or you’d like to know more about some scene or read a specific future scenario, please leave a comment!

#jaysteph #fic #ali writes #jaystephvalentinesday #bridgerton au

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dato-potato · 5 years ago

Text

Under the Stars

So I know I didn’t include the whole family in this but like, I didn’t want to make it too long. Anyways, this one one that I was asked to do, a jaybabs engagement party with dickkori and timsteph side pairings from @incorrectbatfamiliaquotes so here ya go!

——————————————

Jason paced back and forth in the sitting room of Wayne manor. Had he missed anything? Was he sure that everything was ready? Should he run out and grab some more drinks? No, he could always just steal from the manor’s supply, he knew where the good stuff was and which ones weren’t half water from him sneaking drinks when he was younger. Jason sighed heavily, his hands raking through his hair as he exhaled shakily.

Hands snaked around his waist, his instincts itching to throw the person off, “What’s wrong?”

Jason took a deep breath of relief, “Just nervous, I guess.”

Barbara chuckled, “Why are you nervous, it’s not the wedding or anything. It’ll be fine,” she said as she took his hand and led him to the couch.

“Yeah, but what if it’s no good?”

Barbara chuckled again, the sound making Jason’s chest hurt, “Well I’m curious to see what you’ve planned,” she paused and tilted her head side to side, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous as well as to what you’ve planned. I mean, you won’t even tell me where the party’s being held.”

Jason smiled softly down at her, “You’re not the only one, I didn’t tell anyone. Except for Alfred.”

Barbara raised her eyebrow up at him and Jason sighed, “You know I’m clueless with this type of thing,” he groaned.

“I can assure you, Miss Gordon, it will be an evening to remember,” Alfred commented as he entered the room with some cups on a tray.

“Well, now my interest is peaked,” Barbara said leaning forward to take a cup from Alfred, thanking him as she did. Jason nervously sipped at the tea Alfred handed him.

Tim and Stephanie were the first ones to arrive, an awfully wrapped gift in Tim’s hands. Barbara glanced between the gift and Tim, as he looked away with an awkward smile on his face.

“Stephanie said my gift wasn’t good enough,” Tim told Barbara as he glared at Stephanie who was too busy to notice as she chatted with Jason.

“What was your gift, Tim?” Barbara chuckled as she took to box from his hands with a sigh of relief from Tim.

Tim shrugged, “It was a coupon saying that I’d give you a discount for me to take the pictures for the wedding.”

Barbara smiled, “That’s sweet, Tim, I’d still like to take you up on that if that’s ok?”

Tim nodded, “Yeah, of course! Though Jason still has to pay full price,” he grinned to his big brother as Jason made his way over to the two of them.

“Oh come on, Timberly, I’m your actual family,” Jason tried, giving Tim his most pitiful look.

Tim shook his head and shrugged. He looked around, “So where is this engagement party?”

Jason sighed, “We have to wait for everyone else to get here.”

Stephanie made a show of falling onto the couch behind her, “Oh my gosh, seriously? We’re gonna be here forever. Dick always takes so long to get ready.”

Tim started to attempt to defend his eldest brother, but there was nothing he could say.

As if on cue, “Sorry we’re late!”

Dick and Kori entered, “Richard had a difficult time deciding which shirt to wear,” Kori explained.

Stephanie looked pointedly at everyone else and they all just nodded in understanding.

“And you decided to go with one with palm trees and,” Jason squinted at Dick’s shirt, “Flamingos in hats?”

Dick nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah, flamingos in hats.”

Jason stared at his brother for a solid three minutes before Dick turned to Kori, “See I told you I should’ve gone with the other one.”

Jason shook his head and put his hands on Dick’s shoulders, guiding him to sit down, “Nope, this one is bad enough.”

Tim sighed, “So? Where are we going?”

Jason smirked, “We have to wait, surprisingly Dick isn’t the last one.”

“Well, I’m still hoping you took my idea,” Dick said from behind the teacup Alfred handed him.

Jason shook his head before Barbara could ask him what Dick meant, “Dick wanted to do Roller Disco.”

Barbara laughed, “We are not,” she half asked Jason.

Jason shook his head, “No, we are not.”

Alfred excused himself as the kids continued to talk amongst themselves, Dick and Kori telling the other two couples that they were going to start trying for kids, and congratulations going around the room.

Jason kept glancing next to him at Barbara, watching her. Having the others there certainly helped to distract him but he couldn’t help the butterflies in his stomach when he saw her smile or the way his chest hurt when she laughed. His mind was racing, not even noticing Barbara now looking at him.

“Jay, you ok?” she asked softly. Jason stared at her for a few more seconds before smiling softly and nodding. He planted a quick, gentle kiss on her forehead as he wrapped his arm around her waist. She smiled and leaned into him.

Stephanie was elbowing Tim in the ribs and pointing to the couple and whispering to Tim who just shook his head. Dick smiled at his younger brother, he had seemed to calm down since being with Babs.

“This is horrendous,” Damian spoke from the doorway, his face twisted in disgust at all the couples sitting around the room.

“Ah, Demon spawn, so glad you came,” Jason chuckled as he checked his watch, “You guys are a little late though, aren’t you?”

Damian scoffed and sat down a safe distance away from any of the couples, “Usually patrol lasts even longer, you should know, Todd.”

Jason laughed nervously, “Right.”

Bruce entered the sitting room, “Yes, usually patrol lasts at least a few hours, minimum. For whatever reason, the criminals of Gotham have seemed to be quite calm tonight,” Bruce said, eyeing Jason.

Jason’s mouth twitched, “Weird, huh? Well, shall we?”

Jason stood up from his spot next to Barbara who grabbed his wrist and pulled him back to her, “You did something, didn’t you?”

Jason smirked down at her, “Well, I may have suggested they’d lose limbs if they didn’t keep quiet tonight?”

Barbara smiled back up at him and swatted his arm, “Could’ve told me, I’d have helped,” she said as she followed behind him.

“I know.”

Jason led everyone outside and into the woods. He kept looking back at Barbara who looked confused and slightly concerned.

“Is it some sort of sacrificial ritual? Like we have to send the spawn of Satan back to the underworld?” Tim asked, glancing at Damian who glared back.

Jason rolled his eyes, “No.”

Tim sighed and Stephanie pinched his underarm, making Tim yelp.

Finally, the group came to a clearing in the woods, Alfred already standing and waiting for them next to blankets set up with food and drinks around, fairy lights twinkling around the clearing.

Jason turned to Barbara who looked absolutely stunned, “Jason,” she breathed, “This is incredible.”

“Maybe you should plan the wedding,” Tim nudged Jason as he walked past him.

Jason frantically shook his head at Tim and then towards Barbara, “No no no no no no, please don’t make me do it,” he begged.

Barbara laughed and held her stomach, making Jason’s stomach do flip flops as he watched her, “Ok, I won’t make you do all of it, but after this, you’re helping.”

“It was really mostly Alfred,” Jason told her sheepishly.

Alfred scoffed behind Jason, “I didn’t think you were ever one to lie, Master Jason.”

Barbara took Jason’s hand and they sat down at one of the blankets. Everyone started in on the drinks and food, laughing and enjoying the company.

“Presents!” Dick announced, holding the box he had brought above his head.

Everyone laid the gifts out in front of the couple, waiting for them to open the presents. Barbara looked over at Jason who shrugged and picked up Tim and Stephanie’s monstrosity.

Stephanie squealed when Jason finally opened it and without even giving him the chance to unfold the gift. She held a pair of socks in front of their faces for them to take.

Barbara and Jason examined each other’s socks, “They’re socks,” Jason paused, turning his pair over, “With our faces on the socks.”

“I wanted to get shirts, but someone said no,” Stephanie narrowed her eyes at Tim who put his hands up in defence.

Jason handed a flat gift to Barbara to unwrap. She thanked him and started to tear the wrapping paper, but stopping halfway through.

“Damian,” Barbara softly breathed, “This is gorgeous.”

Damian attempted to suppress the small blush that crept up onto his cheeks, “Yes, well, I wasn’t sure what one got as an engagement gift.”

Jason took the canvas from her hands and examined it. It was definitely gorgeous. It was Barbara and Jason together by the fire in the manor, probably from a picture Tim had taken last Christmas.

“Ok, ours next,” Dick said handing his and Kori’s gift to Barbara.

“It’s a cookbook,” she said, slightly confused.

Dick leaned in, “Jason is like, a really good cook, but he usually uses the excuse that he doesn’t have any recipes to cook, so now he has no excuse.”

“Actually, Dick,” Barbara started.

“I cook for her all the time, that’s just when you guys show up at my place unannounced that I use that,” Jason finished.

Dick held a hand to his chest and gasped, offended.

Bruce held out a box for Jason. He eyed the box suspiciously but took it anyway. After opening it, he examined the glass inside, “It’s an engraved decanter set. That was one of the first things you eyed when you had come to the manor,” Bruce said with a faint smile on his lips.

Jason smiled back, “Thanks, B,” he looked back down at the decanter, “Though the only reason I’d been looking at it was the alcohol inside and this one doesn't seem to--”

Jason was interrupted by Babs sending an elbow into his gut, “Thank you, Bruce.”

Alfred handed Barbara a book that wasn’t wrapped, “My apologies, Miss Gordon, but I didn’t have the time to wrap your gift.”

Barbara gasped a little at the book, “Alfred, it’s perfect.”

Jason leaned over, “What? What is it?”

Barbara smiled over at him and opened it up, it had pictures of the two of them when they first met, when they spent holidays at the manor, when they told the rest of the family they were dating, when they announced their engagement and blank pages saved for their future together.

“Of course, that’s just a copy of the original,” Alfred told her.

“I expected as much,” Barbara smiled at him.

The others continued to drink and chat amongst themselves when Barbara leaned over to Jason, “Hey.”

He leaned over to her as well, heads nearly touching, “Why’d you pick this place?” she asked him in a whispered voice.

Jason looked offended, “You don’t remember? Our passionate night under the stars?”

Barbara rolled her eyes, “I remember it differently. I remember you nearly bleeding out but refusing to go back to the cave because you’re a stubborn asshole.”

Jason opened his mouth and then closed it again, “You’re not wrong, but that’s not exactly what I was talking about.”

“Was there another time?”

Jason shook his head.

“Then why?” Barbara asked as she titled her head.

Jason studied her face, the tilt, the way one of her eyebrows was higher than the other, the sharpness of her eyes, the way her lips pursed when she was in thought, the crease between her eyebrows, everything.

“This is where I knew,” he said softly, looking up to the dark sky, littered with stars, “This is where I knew I loved you.”

Barbara was silent for a long moment, processing what he said. He never was one to express himself at all, so when he insisted on planning the engagement party, she was more than a little surprised. The actual engagement was less than romantic, so perhaps this was his way of making up for it.

“Jay,” she started.

“So this means we don’t have to get wedding gifts, right?” Tim asked from behind Jason.

#dick grayson #barbara gordon #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #stephanie brown #timsteph #dickkori #koriand'r #jaybabs #batfamily #fanfic #idk i thought it was cute #theyre cute #they all deserve the world #i can do the actual engagement if people wwnt idk

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