advent calendar fic: day 02
strips me down bare
Pink Carnation Series | Miles/Henrietta | 736 words
Happy Holidays, torigates!
A letter from Miles’ parents arrived nearly three months after the wedding.
It fell in with Henrietta’s correspondence, which meant that she mistakenly read it first. This gave her ample opportunity to read and reread, and to contemplate the many things that could go wrong -- because there were many things -- before Miles could arrive to assuage her doubts and rein in her imagination.
When Miles returned to Loring House a mere hour later, he found his wife in their bedchamber, completely distraught. Henrietta’s face was ghostly pale as she stood frozen in place by her dressing table.
“Hen!” Miles rushed over to her side, almost tripping only once. He placed a hand on her shoulder and spoke softly. “Hen, what is it?”
“It’s your parents,” she reflected sadly.
At least Miles thought it was sadly. It was either that or she was frowning; Miles couldn’t quite tell. When it came to interpreting the feelings of wives, there was still much he had to learn.
“My parents!?” Miles exclaimed, although truthfully it had been so long since he’d seen them that he was primarily upset that Henrietta was so upset. “Are they... dead?”
Henrietta looked up at him, her expression half horror, half aggravation. It was a frown, he realized then. Definitely a frown.
“They’re not dead,” she answered in a tone that seemed to imply the ‘you daft fool’ that she chose not to voice. “They’re in perfectly excellent health and they’re coming to visit!” she added impatiently, apparently tired of waiting for him to catch on. “See for yourself.”
Henrietta thrust the letter into his hands, but he wasn’t ready and it fell to the floor. Miles bent down to retrieve it, keeping hold of his wife’s hand for support. He skimmed the letter briefly. It would seem that the short missive he wrote to inform his parents of his marriage had finally reached them, wherever they were on the continent, and that they would be journeying back to England to meet his new bride. Their arrival could be expected anytime in the next few months.
And this had Henrietta quite upset.
Miles wasn’t quite sure why, but he did know that he needed to do something to fix it.
“Do you want me to write them and tell them not to come?” he asked uncertainly.
“No!” she insisted quickly. “I just... You know everyone in my family, but I’ve never even met your parents before. I don’t want them to be disappointed.” Her voice softened. “What if they don’t like what I’ve done to their home? What if they don’t like me!?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Miles said, perhaps a little too quickly at the scowl he received from his wife at this remark. “Errr,” he backtracked, rubbing one hand along her side in what he hoped was a supportive gesture. “What I meant to say is that of course my parents will like you. Even if they don’t, which I doubt, have I ever given you reason to think that I would let their opinion influence me?”
And if they had really cared, they would have been around before I got married, he thought to himself.
“Besides,” he added jovially. “Loring House has never looked better. It was high time some of those furnishings were replaced!”
“That’s true.” Henrietta appeared to relax then, and the color began to return to her cheeks. Trying to laugh it off, she exclaimed, “Your parents’ letter took me by surprise. We spent so much time worrying about my family that I completely forgot about yours!”
“An understandable oversight,” Miles agreed enthusiastically. His last conversation with Richard had been a slight improvement, but just barely. Blasted stubborn, the man was. “But you have nothing to worry about.”
“Just in case I worry,” Henrietta said with a suggestive smile, “I may need you to distract me.”
Miles crumpled up the letter and tossed it behind him. He may not completely understand how to interpret the feelings of wives just yet, but he knew an invitation when he saw one. “There is nothing I would enjoy more.”
Henrietta turned in her husband’s arms, welcoming his embrace. “Then distract me,” she murmured.
Miles didn’t need to be told twice.
Pink Carnation Series | Miles/Henrietta | 736 words
Happy Holidays, torigates!
A letter from Miles’ parents arrived nearly three months after the wedding.
It fell in with Henrietta’s correspondence, which meant that she mistakenly read it first. This gave her ample opportunity to read and reread, and to contemplate the many things that could go wrong -- because there were many things -- before Miles could arrive to assuage her doubts and rein in her imagination.
When Miles returned to Loring House a mere hour later, he found his wife in their bedchamber, completely distraught. Henrietta’s face was ghostly pale as she stood frozen in place by her dressing table.
“Hen!” Miles rushed over to her side, almost tripping only once. He placed a hand on her shoulder and spoke softly. “Hen, what is it?”
“It’s your parents,” she reflected sadly.
At least Miles thought it was sadly. It was either that or she was frowning; Miles couldn’t quite tell. When it came to interpreting the feelings of wives, there was still much he had to learn.
“My parents!?” Miles exclaimed, although truthfully it had been so long since he’d seen them that he was primarily upset that Henrietta was so upset. “Are they... dead?”
Henrietta looked up at him, her expression half horror, half aggravation. It was a frown, he realized then. Definitely a frown.
“They’re not dead,” she answered in a tone that seemed to imply the ‘you daft fool’ that she chose not to voice. “They’re in perfectly excellent health and they’re coming to visit!” she added impatiently, apparently tired of waiting for him to catch on. “See for yourself.”
Henrietta thrust the letter into his hands, but he wasn’t ready and it fell to the floor. Miles bent down to retrieve it, keeping hold of his wife’s hand for support. He skimmed the letter briefly. It would seem that the short missive he wrote to inform his parents of his marriage had finally reached them, wherever they were on the continent, and that they would be journeying back to England to meet his new bride. Their arrival could be expected anytime in the next few months.
And this had Henrietta quite upset.
Miles wasn’t quite sure why, but he did know that he needed to do something to fix it.
“Do you want me to write them and tell them not to come?” he asked uncertainly.
“No!” she insisted quickly. “I just... You know everyone in my family, but I’ve never even met your parents before. I don’t want them to be disappointed.” Her voice softened. “What if they don’t like what I’ve done to their home? What if they don’t like me!?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Miles said, perhaps a little too quickly at the scowl he received from his wife at this remark. “Errr,” he backtracked, rubbing one hand along her side in what he hoped was a supportive gesture. “What I meant to say is that of course my parents will like you. Even if they don’t, which I doubt, have I ever given you reason to think that I would let their opinion influence me?”
And if they had really cared, they would have been around before I got married, he thought to himself.
“Besides,” he added jovially. “Loring House has never looked better. It was high time some of those furnishings were replaced!”
“That’s true.” Henrietta appeared to relax then, and the color began to return to her cheeks. Trying to laugh it off, she exclaimed, “Your parents’ letter took me by surprise. We spent so much time worrying about my family that I completely forgot about yours!”
“An understandable oversight,” Miles agreed enthusiastically. His last conversation with Richard had been a slight improvement, but just barely. Blasted stubborn, the man was. “But you have nothing to worry about.”
“Just in case I worry,” Henrietta said with a suggestive smile, “I may need you to distract me.”
Miles crumpled up the letter and tossed it behind him. He may not completely understand how to interpret the feelings of wives just yet, but he knew an invitation when he saw one. “There is nothing I would enjoy more.”
Henrietta turned in her husband’s arms, welcoming his embrace. “Then distract me,” she murmured.
Miles didn’t need to be told twice.