Work Text:
August 15th
Home of Lady Pembroke
Pembroke Estates
Bath, England
9 P.M.
Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth stood to the side of the room, watching the dance with a bored air, both men holding a full crystal flute of champagne.
After politely refusing another marriage-minded young lady- and her formidable grandam-Phoenix sighed, stepping back to stand beside his law partner, and secret lover, with a sigh of resignation while Miles simply stood there, sipping his champagne, his left hand lying in the crook of his right arm.
“Lord Almighty,” he swore, scowling as he took a large swallow, taking out his handkerchief and daubing his sweaty forehead, “if there is anything more redoubtable it has to be the marriage minded female!”
Miles was unperturbed, taking another sip.
“I did warn you,” he pointed out reasonably, smiling at the butler as he came by with a tray of sweetmeats, helping himself to some before the man moved on to circulate around the room. “And what was it you said?” Phoenix’s face turned crimson as Miles popped a sweetmeat into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully, looking at him out of the corner of his eye, his voice smug. “Oh, yes, it was-”
“Never mind,” Phoenix hastily interrupted, a sickly smile on his face, Miles smirking as he swallowed the remaining sweetmeat, taking another sip of champagne.
Phoenix thought back to the conversation they had had earlier that morning, wishing that he had listened…
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
August 15th
Law offices of Edgeworth & Wright CO.
London, England
10: 20 A.M.
The impressive grandam swept into their offices, curtly cutting off the welcome that the secretary, startled by her sudden appearance and hastily scrambling to his feet, had started to give the haughty aristocrat as she made her way to Miles and Phoenix’s private offices, her retinue following behind her.
The secretary watched her enter the parlor in silence, a bored look on his face as he returned to his desk and sat down, picking up the sheaf of parchment that he had been reading until he had been so rudely interrupted, muttering something about “The Quality” under his breath.
Miles was discussing the facts of their latest case and was about to postulate on a point when both men were startled by the door flying open, followed shortly by, in a swirl of crimson skirts, Lady Caroline Ashton herself, a mousy young woman in plain black clothing scurrying in behind her, accompanied by her footman, groomsman and a junior groomsman.
Miles recovered first, walking toward her and bowing, taking the proffered black gloved hand that she held out, pressing a courtly kiss on the back of the perfumed garment before straightening again.
“This is a surprise, Your Ladyship,” he said mildly, motioning to Phoenix who strode up to them, standing slightly behind him. “To what do we owe the-”
Lady Ashton cut him off with an imperious wave of her hand; Miles’ mouth snapped shut, his eyebrows furrowing at her rudeness, a smirk gracing Phoenix's lips as he watched the drama unfold.
This could get interesting, he noted, crossing his arms over his chest. Miles isn't known for his patience with The Quality. He chuckled. Certainly one way to liven up a rather dull morning...
“Cut the infernal chitchat, Mr. Edgeworth, and I’ll kindly get to the point of why I am here. My husband had business affairs to take care of this morning in London so I decided to come accompany him to give you and Mr. Wright this.”
She held out a square of cream-coloured parchment, sealed with red wax and the Lord Ashton’s personal seal affixed, Phoenix and Miles staring in astonishment. It was, indeed, curious that the redoubtable Lady would come here, herself, to deliver this to them personally and both Phoenix and Miles couldn't help but wonder why she had come to deliver it herself instead of sending one of her staff to do it on her behalf.
Curiouser and curiouser...
“Why, Lady Ashton, we are-” Miles started to say again but she cut him off once more, earning her a dark look that he quickly hid when she gave him the gimlet eye.
“My time is precious, Mr. Edgeworth,” she retorted, “and quite limited , as you might well expect for a lady of my station. I have no time for idle chitchat or meaningless prattle; therefore, I will get straight to the point.”
“Perish the thought,” Phoenix heard Miles mutter under his breath and smothered a giggle underneath his hand which he covered up by a round of coughing when the lady turned her icy gaze directly on him .
“As I was saying, Mr. Edgeworth,” she continued, her voice cold and clipped, “my husband has business here in London this morning; with some time, though limited, to my own devices, I came here promptly to give you this invitation.”
Miles stared at her as he reached out for the parchment square that she held out to him before his eyes flickered over briefly to Phoenix, looking down at the square he held in his hand curiously.
“What is it?” Miles asked, the corners of his lips twitching in annoyance.
“Why, it’s an invitation to my Ball which will be held this evening, of course!” She seemed offended by the question if the curling of her lip was any indication and the pointed, poisonous glance.
Miles’ smile spread across his face and it was not a nice one, Phoenix noted. Not that he could really blame him; after all, it was Lady Ashton who had barged uninvited into their office, acting like she owned the place and was dashedly rude to him in the bargain.
“I regret that neither myself nor Mr. Wright will be able to attend your Ball although I do appreciate your-”
She cut him off again with an imperious wave of her hand, her lady-in-waiting looking out the window at the tree beyond and studying it most studiously.
She must be used to Her Ladyship doing this kind of thing on a regular basis, Phoenix noted wryly as he watched her before turning his attention back to the combatants.
Miles’ smile faded, replaced by a look of irritation.
“I’m sorry but neither my partner nor myself will be able to attend, as I was starting to say before you so rudely interrupted me!”
Lady Ashton glared daggers at him but Miles refused to be cowed.
“Furthermore,” he continued, while Her Ladyship’s face turned several interesting shades of crimson, a vein throbbing in her forehead, “both my partner and myself are quite busy with an upcoming case and it would not serve our client if we were to not do our best for him.”
Lady Ashton’s lips trembled, her face now a shade of purple. It was very clear that she was enraged at his defiance when she had simply expected him to bow to her wishes which were, in her view, law.
“You WILL come, Mr. Edgeworth,” she hissed, leaning on her black cane topped with a silver ball and an accessory that neither men had noticed she was even carrying on her person until now, “and I expect an apology for your rather boorish behaviour!” She pointed the cane at his chest, her gray eyes snapping sparks. “And you BOTH will come to my Ball!” Her eyes glimmered. “I INSIST!”
Miles’ face was flushed with anger but, before he could open his mouth to repost, he caught the warning shake of Phoenix’s head and quickly snapped it shut again, the angry glitter in his eyes speaking volumes.
It was no secret about how Miles felt about the aristocracy, never mind if was mostly their various affairs, business of personal natures and otherwise, that kept their offices in business and the last thing they needed was an enraged aristocrat taking petty revenge against them. No doubt she would spread the word among her friends and contacts about the rude behaviour of one Mr. Miles Edgeworth and then they would see their business dry up considerably, which might mean even closing their offices.
Tense silence reigned in the room for a few moments, both Lady Ashton and Miles squaring off when Phoenix stepped in smoothly, catching up Lady Ashton’s limp, black-gloved hand, dropping a slight kiss on the back, her pinched face registering complete surprise and then softening her angry expression. “We would be delighted to attend this evening!” He smiled at her winningly and, after a few moments, she smiled coquettishly back. “Your Ladyship, what time is the soirée and where shall it take place?”
He ignored the pointed look that Miles shot at him, doing his best to charm the angry aristocrat and, by the softer look on her face, he was succeeding admirably.
“At our country home in Bath, Pembroke Estates,” she replied, a mollified expression on her face while Miles tried not to roll his eyes, “and it begins this evening at nine o'clock sharp.” She giggled as Phoenix released her hand. “I shall expect you both to arrive around eight-thirty.”
“We’ll be there,” Phoenix promised, clicking his heels together and bowing low from the waist. Lady Ashton turned and swept out of the room, visibly pleased, her retinue struggling to keep up with her as they left the building, calling out in a loud voice for her footman to prepare the coach.
Phoenix watched the hullabalo for a few minutes with amusement before he turned, walking over to where Miles was standing, his arms crossed over his chest, his face angry, his foot tapping the marble floor impatiently.
“What?”
“You just agreed to attend that harridan’s party, on both of our behalves, and you have the nerve to ask me what the matter is?!” Miles could barely speak he was so angry.
Phoenix shrugged. “If anything, I diffused the situation before it got out of hand. You weren't going to win that particular battle and it might have ended badly for us and our offices." He put a mollifying hand on Miles' arm. "Come on, Miles; how bad could it be?”
Miles glared at him, shrugging off his lover's hand impatiently. “It will be just as bad… no, worse , than you know.”
Phoenix rolled his eyes, tugging the lace on the end of his cuff free of his sleeve, turning toward the window and watching as Lady Ashton stepped into her carriage. “You never know, Miles,” he said amiably, “we just might enjoy ourselves!”
Miles glowered at him again and then sighed in resignation, his shoulders slumping. “I highly doubt that, Phoenix." He sighed in exasperation. "Very well,” he grated out between clenched teeth,“this is on your head! I will agree to this but only on these conditions: I get the free food, you talk to everyone and we leave in under an hour once we have fulfilled our social expectations.”
Phoenix fairly chortled as he patted his lover on the shoulder. “Come now, Miles! It couldn’t be that bad!”
"It will be, Phoenix. Trust me." Miles shook his head before turning and stalking over to the office door. Famous last words, he groused mentally, opening the door and slamming it pointedly behind him, famous last words…
Phoenix sighed as he watched him and then returned to his work. Truth be told, he was looking forward to the soirée since it had been some time since both himself and Miles had been out for an evening party. They had been working hard for months and he felt, and rightly so, that they deserved some time off and what better way than to attend an evening Ball, especially one at the Ashtons’ country seat.
I think we’ll have a wonderful time, Miles’ thoughts to the contrary…
He couldn’t help but smile at the thought and went about his duties with renewed vigor, counting down the hours until the Ball. He chuckled once more as he went into the main office, hailing the secretary with a wave of his hand. I think that he will be very surprised, indeed, to find that it won’t be nearly as bad as he thinks!
10:30 P.M.
Yes, it could and damn him, he was right.
Phoenix remembered their earlier conversation with bitterness as they stood there, both men bored to tears and having to fend off the attentions of matchmaking mothers, guardians and their young ladies throughout the evening.
Miles couldn’t help but smirk when he saw the panicked look on his lover’s face as he fended off the advances of Lady Marlys Canarvon, a good-looking blonde haired young lady of twenty who had her sights set on him and refused to take no for an answer. It was his conviction that this was exactly what he deserved for agreeing to come to this thing in the first place, knowing full well that marriage minded matrons, guardians and young women alike would have come out in droves from the ton.
Serves you right, he thought uncharitably as Phoenix finally managed to extricate himself from the persistent young lady, making his excuses while he practically bolted toward the door, serves you right. I told you this would happen.
He watched the not-so-merry chase for a few minutes until he decided that Phoenix had been sufficiently punished for his hubris, cutting in smoothly to say that he was taking his leave and that Phoenix must accompany him since they had work to do. Phoenix's relief was clear to see as was Lady Carnavon's obvious disappointment and displeasure at his interruption, her frosty glare boring into his back as he and Phoenix hurried toward the door, the butler handing them their black greatcoats.
Miles shrugged his on and stepped across the threshold, bowing as another couple passed by, Phoenix following his scapegrace lover outside, waiting for the carriage to take them home. Once outside, he draped Phoenix’s black greatcoat over his shoulders, his lover giving him a small smile as he did so, his hand reaching up to cover Miles'.
“Thank you, Miles,” he said softly, squeezing his hand affectionately.
Miles said nothing but simply bowed his head, placing a tender kiss on his partner’s lips.
.:FIN:.