Chapter Text
Late June, 1816.
Ruby's grinning and giggling came to a quick stop as they noticed Mr Jones coming out of his office. Mary Margaret came to a halt just behind them, her hand searching for Emma's as though she was searching for some sort of protection.
"Where is the party going?" He asked nonchalantly, one eyebrow arched.
"I have told you, we will be going into town," Ruby answered. Emma did her best not to stare at him as Ruby took the word, but each time she found her eyes drifting, she found him already looking at her, looking away just as quickly as she did as their gazes met. "All tasks and preparations have been made and I will be certain to bring Emma home before Grace is finished with her lessons."
Mr Jones hummed shortly. "And what will you be doing in town again?"
"The militia will be coming, so we will be tossing handkerchiefs at them until Emma finds one that tickles her fancy," Ruby jested and locked her arms with Emma. Emma could practically feel her cheeks burn up, quickly turning away from Lord Jones to hide her horrified look from him. Behind her, Mary Margaret coughed softly, likely to hide her own surprise.
Even though she'd known Ruby for a while now, Emma could scarcely believe Ruby had actually used such a vulgar word to him. But Mr Jones did not seem affected and simply hummed gruffly in response whilst walking away from them without another word.
Ruby rolled her eyes, still with that playful grin on her lips, and tugged at Emma's arm.
"I thought you said he had given us permission to go?" Emma whispered as they walked outside, Mary Margaret and Ella closely following.
"He had," Ruby said, biting down on her bottom lip. "But I might have neglected to give him a reason why we were going."
"Goodness," Ella spoke, seemingly having found her voice again. "It has been a while since I have seen him this irritable."
"He is merely jealous, nothing to worry about," Ruby explained.
"Jealous?" Ella asked.
"Of another man receiving Emma's affection," Ruby answered with a giggle, teasingly leaning into Emma as they walked towards the town centre.
Whilst Ella, Ruby, and Mary Margaret were in a store, looking for ribbons, and other trinkets, Emma found herself just outside the little shop, looking at the crowds passing by. She had never seen the streets so overflowing, the streets were filled with people and everywhere you could hear music being made, children's laughter, enthusiastic conversations.
And young coquettes tossed their handkerchief to the ground in desperate attempts to find a man willing to pick it up for them.
She found it quite amusing to see girls much younger than her with such desperate desires for affection. Yes, Ruby had told Mr Jones the sole purpose of their visit to town was to find a suitor for Emma, but the four of them knew Ruby had only said it to vex him. Not necessarily because of Emma, but because of the language used to inform him. Ruby said she found it incredible how easy it was to tease him over such frivolous matters.
But his reaction had kept Emma's mind busy. Ruby said it was jealousy, but Emma was not entirely certain. Of course, somewhere, she hoped it was indeed jealousy.
"I believe you have dropped something," A man's voice said.
"You must be mistaken, Sir, I-" She trailed off upon turning around, gazing directly into his blue eyes. She had been so deeply lost in the moment she had not even recognised his voice. "It is not mine," Emma quietly finished her sentence.
Mr Jones's lips curved into a smile before arching an eyebrow at her, his voice low as he spoke. "Have you not found any one worthy of your handkerchief, then?"
"No," Emma answered, staring down to where he still held a neatly folded handkerchief between them, in its corner, embroidered with golden thread E.S..
"Nevertheless," He spoke in a whisper meant only for her ears, stepping improperly close and gently taking her hand in his as he laid the handkerchief into her open palm. The soft fabric was cool against her skin, the material far more expensive than she could ever afford. "I still believe this is yours."
"A gift?" Emma questioned, tilting her head as she looked at him. The smile he wore was still in place as he nodded. "Why?"
Emma frowned at him, certainly he must know what the handkerchief meant. If Emma knew what it represented, surely he must as well. But there was an innocence in his look, and Emma couldn't be sure whether it was feigned or genuine.
"Does it require a reason?" He asked quietly. "Especially for a gift so trivial?"
It was but a gift to him, there was no underlying romantic meaning, no flirtations, only a simple gift.
"I have never been given much, Milord. It is not a trivial thing to me," Emma said as she looked back to the handkerchief in their hands. "Thank you."
"Emma!" Ruby's voice sounded as they walked out of the little shop.
Emma quickly hid the handkerchief in her sleeve before turning around to face Ruby. "I have found a stray," She said, keeping her voice light, hoping not to show just how affected she was by Lord Jones' gift. Or his close proximity.
"Aw, he is quite adorable," Ruby teased.
"May we keep him, Ruby? Please?" Mary Margaret grinned, childishly tugging at Ruby's dress.
"Only if he knows how to behave," Ruby answered. "And if you bathe him regularly."
"Bloody hell," Mr Jones muttered, reaching behind his ear and looking away to hide his blushing cheeks.
"'Tis your own fault," Ruby said matter-of-factly. "We told you this was a ladies' outing. No men allowed."
"Well, I believe you have forgotten one," Mr Jones said, pointing behind them at the toy shop where Grace emerged from the doorway, Thomas right behind her, carrying two boxes.
"Gracie," Ruby greeted with a curtsy, the other women following her example.
"May I stay with you, please?" Grace asked politely, looking at Ruby and Emma with wide, pleading eyes.
"Of course," Ruby said with a smile.
"I believe I will see you all for supper, then?" Mr Jones spoke, locking eyes with Emma one last time before taking a bow. "Ladies."
Emma watched him walk away from them until Mary Margaret gently pulled her along as they continued their walk through the crowded town streets.
And as they continued their day, more often than not, Emma found herself running her fingers over her wrist, feeling the little bump where she'd hid the handkerchief. It may not have meant what it should have meant, but for now, Emma preferred to pretend that it did.