Chapter Text
That very next morning, Jill is quite regretful as she readies herself for work. She dresses slowly and methodically as if her sluggishness will give her more time before the day must begin. Her gaze continuously falls to the brooch she'd taken from the body of the unmentionable last night. The eyes and horns of Christ stare back, demanding her full attention, but what use is attention when there is nothing more to gain from it?
There must be something she's not caught onto, something in the story she's forgotten…
Still, she knows it is useless to spend any more time on the matter, and she heads down for breakfast. She is not yet down the stairs when she hears Mia speaking in hushed tones. Unable to see where she is, Jill halts her steps to listen carefully.
"You think it is so?" Mia asks.
"Indeed, the mistress was quite adamant." It is a voice Jill swears she knows, but cannot place.
"But it is impossible! The doctor would never." Mia insists.
"The doctor is a mad man, there can be no denying it any longer."
"Very well… we must increase our efforts. Before… oh, good merciful God, we must stop this madness before the world follows suit."
There's an aggressive knocking at the front door. Jill hurries the rest of her way down the stairs to answer it.
"Jill! I was not aware you were up." Mia says, stepping out of the drawing room with that maid, Zoe Baker, just behind her.
"I am." Jill says, opening the front door. She is quite startled to see it is Claire, smiling sweetly and with a basket of baked goods dangling from her wrist.
"Jill, I am so glad you're still here." Claire gives a sad sort of smile.
"Claire, what a surprise! Come in, please." Jill steps aside to allow her entrance.
"Miss Redfield, it is quite early for you to be up, is it not?" Mia asks with a lovely little laugh, one that unsettles Jill as the two women embrace.
"It is indeed; however, I've a proper apology to make." Claire turns towards Jill at the mention.
"Oh Claire, it is I who must be apologizing. I acted most thoughtlessly and for that I beg your forgiveness." Jill drops her head in shame.
"I will not hear of such a thing." Claire insists. "Mrs. Winters, is there any place we could speak privately? If you have the time, Jill."
"For you, I do." Jill assures her.
"Why don't you take Claire to your room, Jill? I will have breakfast packed for you." Mia curtsies to them both, taking the basket offered by Claire as she departs.
Jill leads Claire towards her bedchambers, closing the door behind them.
Jill speaks quickly once Claire has observed the room, "Please accept my most sincere apology."
"I have just said I'll not hear of such a thing. You owe me nothing." She sighs. "It is I who should be offering an earnest apology to you on behalf of my brother."
Jill shakes her head, "You do not control his actions."
Claire gives a huff, "As much as I would like to, the man has no qualms ignoring such good advice as mine."
Jill can't help the laugh she emits, "Oh dear, has he not even his most loyal admirer on his side?"
"I am not one to follow blindly, Jill. I've plenty of opinions of my own." Claire chuckles.
"Indeed, madam." Jill sits on the bed and gestures for Claire to join her.
"Please believe that I have never known him to act so outrageously. Insofar as I have heard, he is most agreeable in social situations, even when I was not present at such functions. Many have noted him as lovely company."
Jill tries to bite her tongue, "Perhaps that was to spare you the consequence of his behavior."
Claire shakes her head, "Certainly not! The man has more friends than he has enemies. However, I do consider that he may be easily persuaded."
"On what grounds?"
"I believe it is a most unfortunate consequence of his intense need to please others."
Jill lets out a scoff. "To please others?"
"Yes, of course." Claire places her hand over Jill's. "My brother has a great deal of love for his fellow man. He's quite the people pleaser, but more than that, he truly cares for the opinions of others."
"Clearly not mine." Jill once again cannot help but comment.
Claire lets out a dejected sigh, "I can hardly believe he spoke to you in such a manner."
"Have the two of you had a conversation similar to this?"
"I have, though last night he was insistent that he had no desire to discuss the situation. He merely said that you twisted his words and their meaning. He was adamant, however, that his intentions were not to cause you such offense."
Jill shakes her head. "In my opinion, he made his intentions clear with the way he spoke."
"Might I suggest, that perhaps… oh good God, Jill. I am at a loss for what to say except that the man you met was surely not my brother." Jill looks up to see tears flowing freely down Claire's cheeks.
Jill pulls the young lady to her chest, "I am grievously sorry this has affected you so, Claire. Truly."
"I just don't understand." Claire sniffles, "My brother would never speak of anyone so brashly, so brazenly. He is not uncouth, indeed, he is the opposite."
"Most men do not speak well of women unless they are in the company of one."
"I refuse to accept that he would ever say such things."
Jill sighs. She desperately wants to remark that ignoring such truths does not negate their existence, but she feels terribly about the weight she has laid on Claire's shoulders. Jill cannot fathom encouraging her hysterics.
"I hope his actions will not affect our friendship, Jill." Claire confesses.
"Of course not." Jill moves a strand of Claire's hair from her wet cheeks, "I am not the type of person to allow the opinions of others to dictate my actions."
"I have such a difficult time making friends and an even more difficult time keeping them." Claire confides in her. "In fact, I am envious of my brother's ability to make friends everywhere he goes. I, for one, was graced with no such gift. I am a silly little girl who's yet to grow up and my nineteen years of life on this damned earth have not forced me into seriousness. Sometimes, I think God continues to take my loved ones in an attempt to darken my heart, but I refuse it."
"It is far more graceful to look out on such a place as this world and still see it beautiful than it is to give into devastation." Jill proclaims, handing Claire a handkerchief from her dresser. "Do not doubt your own strength, for it is bountiful and bright. Our world simply refuses to find such a thing courageous, even though Jesus himself called us to do so."
Claire wipes her eyes, "You believe such a thing? A warrior like you?"
"Claire, you are a lark among ravens. There is bravery in a deed like that."
"I see you as a sister, Jill. I know we have been friends for such little time, but I can hardly imagine losing our relationship."
"And you will not, as I have said." Jill assures her as the church bells signifying the hour ring deeply through the city. Jill is certainly late for work and a part of her is relieved to hold off such an excursion.
"When are you next free? I must make this injustice right."
"Do not seek atonement. There is no need. But, in four days' time, I would love to join you and Rebecca for tea, if you'll have me."
"Of course! Thank you, Jill." Claire hugs her friend once more.
Jill chuckles softly, returning the gesture, "Would you like to accompany me to the laboratory? I fear I must be going shortly, but I want to ensure you will be alright."
"I will be, thank you…" Claire takes in a deep breath, "I must be going back to my family's estate. My brother is having it reopened and I do believe he's earned a very stern talking to."
"No, Claire, he is a grown man. He made his own decisions and it is not your place to force him to see it as such." Jill stands, catching yet another glance at the brooch on her vanity as she turns to gather her journals.
"Yes, but I should like it if I were able to have my dear friend visit our estate and not have his presence be a problem."
Jill closes her eyes, a smile gently lifting the corners of her mouth. "I, too, am fully grown, Claire. His existence will not deter me from enjoying your company."
Claire beams at her, "Forgive me, then why was it that you left so urgently?"
"It was… the surprise of it all." Jill claims, "I was taken aback that he was not only present, but your brother in addition."
Claire chuckles, "God certainly has a sense of humor."
The two part ways with Jill rushing off to work in a hurry. Her late arrival is not reprimanded for the Umbrella is bustling with life. They've not the time nor the man power to scold such things as tardiness. It is as she sits at her desk that she again recalls the conversation that Mia held with her lady's maid. Does Mia know Dr. Birkin? And who would be the mistress in such a case? How does Mia know Claire?
London is a city full of mysteries and Jill can hardly stand it.
When she returns home that evening, Mia is not there. A maid informs Jill that Mrs. Winters is out with friends, but it is most peculiar when, the next day and the day afterwards, Mia is not home when Jill finds herself present.
In fact, they do not cross paths again until three days hence, and it is by mere happenstance that they see one another. Mia looks as though she is ready to depart for the day, but she is, instead, trimming an exquisite bouquet with gentleness and delicacy.
"Those are quite lovely." Jill comments.
Mia jumps at Jill's entrance, but does not hold surprise in her tone. "They are."
"Are they from Ethan?" She asks.
"Oh no, the Redfields sent them." Mia responds, finishing her clipping.
"The Redfields?" Jill asks, surprised.
"Indeed, Ethan manages their estate here in London." She explains.
"That was quite kind of them to express such gratitude." Jill says, thankful for Mia's conversational nature that allows Jill insight without any prying at all.
"But they are for you, Jill." Mia plucks a card from behind the vase and hands it to her.
"Whatever for?" Jill asks seeing her name finely written: For the Lady Jill Valentine.
"I know not. The florist arrived this morning and said they were from Mr. Redfield. I must say, I did not know you were acquainted with him."
Jill shakes her head, "We have only met briefly. I am much more intimate with his sister, as you saw. You are certain they are not from her?"
"I am." Mia smiles sweetly, "Chris is a nice boy, albeit a little brash and stubborn. I would not be surprised if he were to dote on his sister's friends."
"You would not?" Jill can hardly believe the man she knows would act in such a way.
"Absolutely not! He is quite charming as well, so I've been told." She giggles.
Jill shakes her head, placing the card down from where it came.
"You speak as if you are his elder, but you cannot be older than him by much, I imagine."
"You are correct. I am just five years his senior, but there is such a difference between us."
"How do you mean?" Jill inquires.
"Well, he was raised in high society, of course. He was raised comfortably, trained rigorously, and, from what I have gathered, is quite the socialite. He's considered to be the wealthiest, most eligible bachelor in the country. Depending upon who you ask such a question, I've heard that many say the man is second only to the prince himself.
"Even so, he has always treated me graciously. I have noticed in him, however, a tendency to follow whichever way the wind blows, as it were. He's in the business of pleasing everyone he meets. I do wonder from time to time if anyone knows him at all. Sometimes I wonder if even he is acquainted with his true self."
Her admittance shocks Jill. Could she possibly speak truly? Claire had expressed much the same sentiment, but is there validity in it?
"As far as I have known him, I've only seen his instance at needling others." Jill says firmly.
"Perhaps." Mia nods. "Though I might implore you to think of the company he was keeping at the time."
Mia notices the uncertainty in Jill's gaze and so she speaks once more. "Might I have them put up in your room?"
"No!" Jill says far too quickly, "They are… they should be kept here for others to enjoy. God knows I spend so little time in my room as it were."
Mia looks at her with a laugh before agreeing. In an attempt to outrun the burning embarrassment Jill feels is about to overcome her, she excuses herself. Hurrying out the door and onto the streets, she begins to wonder about the sincerity behind Mr. Redfield's initial apology. Truly, she believed he had only wanted her forgiveness for Claire's sake – he had implied no less in that previous encounter – and perhaps that sentiment still rings true. But could there be yet more behind such an attempt? And what of their first encounter? Surely a man would not be so passive as to allow others to decide his actions.
Then, she wonders if she has not done the same in allowing his actions to so immediately decide her disdain of him. Such a thought angers her and so she casts it out of her mind, a simple task with the rampant and chaotic energy of the Umbrella. It is such a trying day that Jill is relieved to have the next day to herself.
However, once she returns home, there is no avoiding them. The flowers which spur Ethan to compliment her taste in friends and suggest that she should try to engage His Majesty in conversation. All the while, the budding bouquet continues to gawk at her, taunting her with their language – Jill had no such time to learn the language of flowers. This instance is the only time in her life she can recall wishing she'd learned such a frivolous, tired art. She resents such an idea even while lying in bed that evening.
Rebecca is in the front hall early the next morning, greeting Jill with a soft smile and a warm embrace.
"It is so good to see you again." Rebecca comments, linking arms with her. "Claire assured me you were not put out, but I had to be certain for myself."
Jill leads them out of the home, grimacing at the thought of the Officer's Ball. "I am glad you are not cross with me for my prior behavior."
"Cross? Of course not! The festivities were just about to wind down when you livened it up one last time." Rebecca chuckles.
"I suppose I did." Jill shivers at the idea.
"Why, after your exit, we were all left absolutely flabbergasted. Claire looked to Chris and demanded to know what he had done to you. When he would not answer, she practically shoved him out the door after you."
"Oh God, how embarrassing." Jill shakes her head.
Rebecca laughs, "Absolutely not. Possibly for Mr. Redfield it was, but the rest of us were in stitches."
Jill doesn't know how to take that, but Rebecca doesn't seem to mind. "I must say, it was a most entertaining display."
"I did not intend such, I can assure you."
"Of course not… but Captain Kennedy spent the rest of the night consoling Claire." Rebecca goes on about the gossip Jill had missed in the fallout of her departure.
For her own sanity and pride, Jill does not listen to the rest. Instead, she takes in the living art of the neighborhood they've entered. The rich have spared no expense in architecture and the buildings are positively gorgeous, each with tall barbed fences and polished stones. The Redfield estate is no different with two guards standing at attention behind the gate, permitting the two entry as Rebecca presents them.
Inside, there are walls covered in generations of family paintings, fine pottery from the orient, and weapons at the base of the stairs that Claire races down haphazardly.
"Jill! Rebecca! It is wonderful to have you." The young miss approaches. "We will have tea and then head to the market district for some shopping."
Rebecca chuckles, "For the annual Redfield ball?"
"But of course!" Claire laughs before turning to Jill, "Each year since the London estate opened, we have thrown a most profoundly exquisite party. That is where Billy made his first advance for Rebecca's affections last year."
Rebecca swats at Claire's teasing smirk, "It is a lovely occasion! The loveliest of the season, truly."
"And you are, of course, invited, Jill. It would practically kill me not to have you."
"No need for the theatrics." Rebecca teases.
"I will, of course, attend." Jill assures her.
"It is not for another month, but it will be a splendid time." Claire shakes herself. "Please, let us go to the gardens for tea."
Jill can hardly believe there are gardens at all in London, but the Redfields have kept up a handsome bit of nature in the back of the house. Pale flowers dance across the greens and well-trimmed hedges kiss each slot of fencing around the back of the home. The servants are finishing the settings for the ladies' tea and depart upon noticing their presence.
The three of them partake in simple conversation about books and the upcoming opera that Claire insists they attend together. Claire is adept at making arrangements for socialization during Jill's free time, planning a spar before the opera at Jill's next convenience, some five days away.
Jill would hate to admit that part of her longs to spend a day alone reading, meditating, or doing practically anything other than socializing. However, she thinks of herself back home, so anxious to escape that she would leave the property unattended. In that regard, she tries her best to think well of it all and ignore the nagging thought in the back of her mind that recalls the unmentionable which spoke to her.
She is so overwhelmed. It is almost as if God himself is testing her resolve when Mr. Redfield walks out to the gardens.
"Claire, I am going to set out for the Elliot's Estate. Is there anything you require?" The man stands at attention by the door.
Jill turns to see him and notices a rigidity surge through him as their eyes meet. Claire must respond, but Jill cannot be entirely certain as he approaches them.
"Did you receive my gift, Miss Valentine?" He asks. If Jill did not know better, she'd say he sounds very much ashamed with the hush of his tone.
"I did." She responds in equal measure.
He bobs his head slightly. "Did you like them?"
She feels her own gaze narrow just slightly, "They were… yes. Is there a reason to your nervousness?"
He looks down at his feet with a laugh, "I am on my best behavior, Miss Valentine. I should most assuredly regret it if I were to upset the young Miss Redfield."
"Indeed, you would." Claire laughs.
"I hope you are well, Miss Chambers." He says, a lightness returning to his tone.
"I am. Are you, Mr. Redfield? The blush on your neck says otherwise." Rebecca smirks.
"As vicious as ever, madam." He laughs.
"Aren't we all?" Jill can't help but chuckle. She feels the gaze of Mr. Redfield on her but does not pay him mind. "Should we not also be leaving soon, Claire? Your lofty intentions for shopping will require ample time."
"Oh yes! Let us get going, ladies." Claire stands up quickly.
"What an adventure we are about to embark upon." Rebecca rolls her eyes, standing up slowly. Claire bounds ahead of the group, leaving them meandering in her wake. Jill gravitates to Rebecca's side while Mr. Redfield takes up the rear of the group.
"I can assure you, sir, we do not find ourselves in need of an escort. The sun is high, there's not one single cloud in the sky, and I thought you'd business to attend." Jill sends her biting message towards him with only a glance over her shoulder.
His laugh is familiar, a thought that Jill tries to suppress. "Right you are, but I should very much like to do so regardless. What lovely establishments will be sustained by my capital, I wonder."
"Oh, how could I forget? Jill, my brother has offered to buy your dress as a sign of goodwill! Isn't that lovely?" Claire asks as she ties her bonnet under her chin.
Jill turns to the man in question, his smile soft and unsure. "While that is generous of you, it is wholly unnecessary."
"I believe it is the least I owe you, as I did soil your other dress with the blood of an unmentionable. Allow me to replace it."
"You need not-"
"Allow me." When they got so close, she is not certain. More than that, she does not know when he took her hand in his, accompanied by a warmth to his skin she did not notice during their prior engagement. In their proximity, she finds that he is in possession of the most startlingly blue eyes and the gaping of his mouth does not escape her notice either.
They're both caught up between the other, uncertain if they should move or sustain their pose. He's turned a shade of red so bright that painters and dressmakers alike would be jealous of such a pigment, and she feels a similar hue spreading to her ears. Finally, she removes her hand from his and takes a step back.
"If you must be so insistent… then I thank you." She looks to the floor as her face begins to cool, yet he remains stagnant.
He closes his eyes and shakes his head slightly before forcing a smile. "I do believe that is the first time you've conceded to my wishes. Very good of you to learn compromise, Miss Valentine."
The jest is forced, Jill knows it by the tightness of his voice. And thus, she cannot bring herself to respond, nor can she raise her eyes back to his. Instead, she observes the way he flexes his hand, then listens as he clears his throat.
"Enjoy your shopping." He says swiftly. Just as hastily as he speaks, he's gone from their presence.
"Good merciful God. The two of you!" Rebecca tuts her tongue.
"What?" Jill asks, still very near breathless from the absurdity of the situation she's just endured.
"Oh, nothing… on your end, perhaps." Rebecca laughs.
Claire dawns a cheeky grin, "Indeed! And, to think, I thought Rebecca was bad."
"What on Earth are you implying?"
"In due time, Jill, you will soon discover what we already see quite plainly." Rebecca laughs once more.
"You mock and misinterpret my discomfort. I am appalled."
"Discomfort indeed." Claire melds her lips together to avoid a smirk.
"How do you mean?" Jill asks as the two girls lock arms with her, one on either side.
"There are a great many things in this life that encourage discomfort. I think you have just discovered a new one." Rebecca laughs
"New to you, at least." Claire tease.
Jill still does not catch onto their meaning as they go. However, she decides it is in her best interest to relax her mind once more and think on it no longer. Instead, she enjoys shopping with her friends, delighted by their comfort and reveling in how easily they take her mind away from such trivial things.