Archive of Our Own

The first time he saw her it was love at first sight.

Or as close to love as it could be for a first glance.

The young brunette woman near the centre of the room was wearing an ivory coloured evening gown, with white gloves that went up the length of her arm nearly meeting the sleeves. Her dress sparkled every time she moved as she caught a different light. Her brown curls were done up in an elegant twisting bun that had pearls tied into it, her lips painted a bright red.

It was her brown eyes that caught Steve’s attention the most. Their deep, velvety nature had him unconsciously taking a step closer, wanting to lose himself in them until he was entirely enveloped in their warmth.

Those eyes were also growing increasingly unimpressed the longer she remained in conversation with the man in front of her.

Steve immediately recognized him as Jack Thompson. While his family was among the wealthiest present at this ball, Steve knew well of his reputation, more so his treatment of the women he courted, only to throw them away for the next prettiest thing two weeks later. The only reason he was still considered an advantageous match was the fact that no one had ever made a public accusation against him. Even then, Steve guessed that his egregious wealth meant that he would be able to come out against any such accusations mostly unscathed. 

He had half a mind to rescue the woman before he saw an almost mischievous twinkle brighten her eyes.

The young woman’s red lips pursed slightly before they grew into a sweet smile. Though Steve couldn’t make out what she was saying to Thompson, his shoulders became more tense, his back downright rigid.

Thompson suddenly turned on his heel, leaving the woman by herself. Though he held his head high, Steve couldn’t help but imagine that whatever the woman had told him had left him retreating with his tail between his legs.

He couldn’t help but smile to himself as the woman herself smirked triumphantly.

“Would you like me to make an introduction?” his ma asked as she appeared suddenly behind him.

“What?” he asked, startling slightly as he tore his gaze away from the young woman to look at her.

“You have been staring at that young woman without end for the last two minutes.”

“What no I-”

“Relax, Steven,” his mother laughed. “You’re not the only one, and I certainly don’t blame you. She’s the jewel of the ball, and she would still be even if it weren’t for her family.”

“Her family?”

“That, my dear boy, is Margaret Carter. The youngest of the Carter family.”

“The Carter family?” he parroted, heart sinking slightly.

Everyone knew of the Carters. They were wealthiest family in the county - even wealthier than the Thompsons and the Sousas. They attended every event of note and hosted at least two balls of their own every season (though Steve’s family wasn’t wealthy or important enough to ever be invited to one).

“Why haven’t I seen her before?” he wondered aloud, watching as Miss Carter was joined by another man, whom he instantly recognized as her older brother Michael.

While Steve had never been properly introduced to Michael Carter, Bucky was rather good friends with him. The elder Carter sibling had returned home from boarding school nearly three years ago, and had been immediately taken with Miss Martinelli — now Mrs. Carter.

“Just like her brother, Miss Carter spent her entire youth growing up across the ocean with her aunt and uncle so that she could be properly educated at one of the best boarding schools in the country.” 

“And she has returned now that her education is over?”

“That is one theory.”

Steve raised his eyebrow. His ma looked around discreetly before lowering her voice.

“From what your Aunt Winnie tells me, this year marks her fourth season out in society, and she has still yet to marry. One can only assume that she was sent back here to rectify that, if you will.”

Steve frowned as he glanced back over at Miss Carter before returning his gaze to his mother. He briefly wondered why she hadn’t married. After all, she was a beautiful woman of high wealth and status. Judging by the education Bucky had received, she probably knew at least two languages and was most likely well-versed in various other subjects, so it was highly unlikely that she was a poor conversationalist.  

“And even still,” his ma continued with a slight smirk on her lips. "Miss Carter has turned down every person who has asked her for a dance since we arrived. Even Mr. Sousa and Mr. Thompson — not to mention Mr. Rumlow and Miss Underwood.”

Steve raised his eyebrow questioningly at her.

“You haven’t been the only one watching her,” she teased.

“You just love to gossip with Aunt Winnie and Aunt Darlene,” he accused good-naturedly. “Besides, most anyone with half a brain who has listened to Thompson speak for more than two minutes would reject a dance with him.”

“You have a point. That indicates that she just may be as good a judge of character as her older brother.”

“How do you know how good a character Michael Carter is?”

“Mother’s intuition,” she told him conspiratorially. “So I shall ask you again. Would you like me to make an introduction?”

“Did we really have to come tonight?” Peggy asked Michael for what already felt like the umpteenth time in the last hour as she watched Mr. Thompson walk away from the corner of her eye.

“Did you want to be the one to tell mother that her aging daughter didn’t want to attend the first ball of the season?”

“Quite honestly, yes.”

“You’re terrible.”

“As if you don’t agree with me,” she quipped. “You hate these things just as much as I do.”

“Yes but if Angie and I hadn’t come, your sole chaperone tonight would have been our parents.”

“Ah yes, because God forbid that a single twenty year old woman be permitted to attend a ball alone.”

“At least it’s a ball and not a dinner where you’d be forced to interact with someone in close quarters the entire night. And I seem to recall you love dancing more than the average person.”

“I adore it,” she admitted wistfully as she looked out at the room full of couples swinging and turning about. “But I don’t wish to waste my time on another man — or woman — who never bothers to ask me about any of the things that truly matter. I’d rather dance with… with the right partner.”

“I agree with that sentiment completely.”

The almost dreamy hint in her brother’s voice brought her attention back to him. She followed his eye-line, where she could see Angie across the room laughing with Rose.

“Go on,” she told him with a knowing smile.

“What?”

“I see you making loving eyes at your wife from across the room,” she smirked. “Go ask her to dance before your heart beats out of your chest entirely.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes. Now that mother is no longer by my side I am entirely confident I can fend off the advances of a few overly eager young men,” she smiled. “No matter how aggressive they can be.

“Just remember that if your words don’t do the trick, you are entirely within your rights to sock them in the jaw.”

“Don’t tempt me. Though I thank you for the permission.”

Michael snorted.

“As if you’ve never needed my permission or approval to act as you see fit.”

“I can’t help who I am, Michael.”

“And I am glad for it,” he told her honestly. “Now, don’t fret. Allow me a dance or two with Angie and then I’ll take you home myself. No matter how much our mother protests.”

She smiled gratefully at him before he went off in search of his wife.

Peggy took a good look around the room while she had the slightest moment of reprieve. With her luck she knew it wouldn’t be long before someone else came to make their advance, especially now that Michael had left her side again. 

She had to admit that the Underwood family certainly had exquisite taste, even if Dorothy was rather intense in her manners — and in the way she asked her to dance almost immediately upon her arrival.

“Miss Carter?”

Peggy turned at the female voice behind her, finding a woman just two inches taller than her with blonde hair, kind blue eyes and a warm smile. Beside her was a man of about six feet with an impressive jawline and a dark blue jacket that accentuated his figure nicely. From his clothed form alone Peggy could only assume that he had the potential to make Adonis himself jealous.

His eyes — which were just as blue as the older woman’s — struck her as especially gorgeous. They reminded her of the perfect blue of the ocean, calming but every bit as intense as a storm, framed by his obscenely long eyelashes.

“My name is Sarah Rogers,” the woman introduced herself with a curtsey, the man beside her bowing. “This is my son, Steven.”

“It is an honour to make your acquaintance, Miss Carter,” he greeted.

Peggy was slightly struck by the fact that he sounded sincere.

“Good evening,” she smiled politely, curtseying in return. “I would introduce myself properly but I realized rather early on this evening that everyone in this room already knows my name. I am afraid that I’m at a terrible disadvantage.”

Mrs. Rogers laughed — genuinely, Peggy noted, as was her son’s shy smile. Nothing like the way Mr. Sousa had smiled at her, as though he expected her to fawn as a recompense for his company.

“Have you been back home long?” Mrs. Rogers asked.

“A few days.”

“Just in time for the start of the season,” she noted.

“My mother would have it no other way,” Peggy smiled politely — though she couldn’t quite keep all of the annoyance out of her voice.

“I understand that very well,” she said, before glancing between both Peggy and her son before continuing on a touch louder than she had been before. “You know what, I have just seen my darling friend Darlene Wilson for the first time tonight and I really must say hello. I shall leave you two to chat.”

She was gone before either her or Mr. Rogers could protest. Peggy’s heart sunk and she looked over at the dance floor, wondering if Michael had wrapped up his dance yet.

“I am sorry,” Mr. Rogers said almost immediately following his mother’s departure.

Peggy blinked as she turned back to him, slightly confused.

“What ever for?”

“I had no idea my mother was going to abandon me here.”

“You make it sound as though I am dangerous to be around,” Peggy smiled.

“That - no I only meant that I did not mean to ambush you into a conversation. I simply wanted to meet you.”

Peggy tilted her head curiously.

“So you came here with absolutely no intention of asking me to dance, Mr. Rogers?”

“From what I have seen, you have not danced all evening. I did not want to assume that you would want to dance with me.”

“So you have been spying on me?”

“What - no - oh no of course not,” he stuttered, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. "I only meant that I saw you from across the room and you were so beautiful - but that does not mean that your beauty meant I was entitled to stare - not that I was staring at all - what I am trying to get across is that no matter how beautiful you are, it is your right to not-”

Peggy couldn’t help but begin to laugh, and she forced herself to stop when she saw his shoulders slump and his face fall.

“Forgive me, Mr. Rogers, but I just find it so entirely fascinating.”

“Find what fascinating?” he frowned.

“How you managed to produce the most awkward run-on sentence I have ever heard in my life while still managing to call me beautiful thrice within it.”

The tips of his ears turned an impressive shade of scarlet.

Just when she thought he couldn’t be any more endearing.

“Do you wish to know why I have not danced tonight, Mr. Rogers?”

“Only if you wish to tell me.”

Good answer.

“While I do enjoy dancing - greatly, I might add - there are only two scenarios in which I might be tempted to dance at a public ball. The first is if I wish to learn more about the person who has asked me to dance.”

Mr. Rogers smiled, as though in agreement.

“And the second reason?”

“If you would truly like to know, Mr. Rogers… perhaps you should get to know me better.”

Mr. Rogers’ smile slowly grew as he realized what she was insinuated.

“I’d love nothing more, Miss Carter. That is, if you are amenable.”

Peggy grinned, and went to offer her hand to Mr. Rogers, when Michael suddenly appeared beside her.

“There you are, Peggy. It’s time to go.”

“Oh,” Mr. Rogers said, visibly deflating.

“Not yet,” Peggy said quickly. “We don’t have to go yet, right Michael?”

“You’re the one who has been wanting to leave since the moment we got here,” he answered, looking confused as he glanced back and forth between them.

“I did, but now-”

“It’s alright, I understand,” Mr. Rogers told her with a kind, if small, smile. “Have a good night, Miss Carter.”

Peggy frowned as Mr. Rogers made his exit.

“What are you doing?” she hissed to Michael.

“What am I doing? What are you doing?” Michael countered.

“I was talking to Mr. Rogers.”

“You weren’t simply talking with him, you were asking him to dance.”

“And he had just said yes when you so rudely interrupted us.”

Michael paused and considered her for a moment.

“What makes Mr. Rogers different from the others?”

“He’s not-”

“You didn’t even wish to attend tonight’s ball in the first place, let alone dance with anyone here. Now, right as I come to rescue you from any more unwanted advances - as promised - you argue to not only stay, but to dance with a man you’ve just met. I want to know what about this particular man made you change your mind so entirely.”

Peggy sighed softly.

“He is the only one who hasn’t acted as though I am a trophy to be won.”

“Fair point,” Michael slowly conceded. “But how do you know he was being genuine?”

“I thought his blush looked genuine,” she smirked. “And rather adorable at that.”

“You just like messing with him.”

“Well you can’t expect me to commit to a lifetime with someone who can’t handle my teasing or banter.”

“Already thinking about a lifetime with Mr. Rogers, now are we?”

“Oh shove it,” she said, feeling her cheeks heat up. “I only mean that I’d much rather be courted by someone who sees me for who I am, not what my family can offer. I don’t care about wealth or status. I know that you understand that.”

“I do,” he said. “But mum and dad won’t.”

“I know.” 

“Peg, they threw a fit when I chose to marry Angie and her family is barely below our station.”

“I’ll find a way to deal with them,” she told him decidedly. “I am going to have a say in who I marry, no matter how hard I have to fight for it.” 

“I hope you do. For your sake, and potentially Mr. Rogers’.”

Peggy rolled her eyes, but she didn’t move to disprove his insinuation.

“If you smile any wider, your face might split into two.”

Steve looked up from where he was watching Miss Carter, her brother and sister-in-law leave the ball to find both Bucky and Sam sidling up to him.

“What are you on about now?”

“I must hand it to you, you picked the most beautiful woman here,” Bucky smirked.

“I have not picked anyone. Miss Carter is her own woman.”

“We didn’t say a word about Miss Carter,” Sam smirked. “Though you two seem to be the talk of the ball already.”

“What do you mean by that?” he frowned.

“I mean that Miss Carter didn’t dance with anyone before leaving,” Bucky explained.

“And she was asked by no less than 18 young men,” Sam continued. “If not more.”

“Though rumour has it that the 19th man-” 

“-whose description matches one of someone we know very well, mind you-”

“-was able to not only engage her in conversation for more than 60 seconds, but she asked him to dance.”

“Unfortunately they were interrupted by her brother before they could actually have that dance.”

“And now we find you here by the refreshment table. Alone and smiling so brightly at none other than the famous Miss Carter.”

“Are you two quite finished?” Steve asked them.

“Not on your life,” Sam chuckled.

“I hardly know her-”

“But you want to know her,” Bucky grinned.

“She is far above my station,” Steve protested.

“ We are far above your station,” Sam told him teasingly. “And yet we’re still best friends.”

Steve rolled his eyes fondly.

“That’s different. You two courted each other, not me.”

“Perhaps,” Bucky shrugged. “But I wouldn’t count yourself out just yet. After all, out of everyone here, you were the one she asked for a dance.”

Steve shook his head slightly, but couldn’t entirely fight back the smile on his face at the thought of Miss Carter’s laugh.

“Will my darling brother not be joining us for tea?” Peggy asked Angie the late afternoon after the Underwood ball as she took a seat in her sister-in-law’s drawing room.

“He’s out with Mr. Barnes,” Angie explained as she handed Peggy a cup. “I’m not sure what their plans are, but I suspect he won’t be back for a while.”

“Which is just as well for us,” Peggy grinned. “I don’t think he would be too amused by our discussion of Miss Underwood’s style of hosting.”

“I like Dottie,” Angie defended.

“You only say that because she’s reliable gossip.”

“Of course,” Angie grinned. “She may love to stir up trouble but you have to admit that everything she says is true. It even comes with foolproof evidence half the time.”

“If only she’d uncover some scandalous evidence about Mr. Thompson or Mr. Sousa,” Peggy muttered into her cup.

Angie gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Michael tells me your parents are pushing harder than ever for you to marry. Preferably either Mr. Thompson or Mr. Sousa.”

Peggy rolled her eyes and didn’t bother to suppress an unimpressed huff.

“My father is insisting I marry Mr. Thompson because it is the most advantageous match I could make, but my mother absolutely adores Mr. Sousa, and his prospects are almost as good as Mr. Thompson’s.”

“And you despise both of them with equal vigour?”

“Of course!” Peggy exclaimed, setting her cup down more forceful than was necessary. “Mr. Thompson cares about nothing more than my wealth and Mr. Sousa continues to insist that I would make a perfect housewife.”

“To be fair, you are entirely excellent at anything you set your mind to. I doubt keeping a house would be any exception to that.”

Peggy glared at Angie as her best friend tried to suppress a fit of giggles.

“This isn’t funny, Angie. My parents want me to shackle myself to one of two men as my only options, neither of whom either care for me as a person.”

“I’m sorry,” Angie said honestly, her laughter now gone. “I know how hard Michael fought for us, and my family is barely below yours in terms of both wealth and status.”

“Ever since I broke my engagement to Fred they’ve shortened my leash, as it were,” Peggy frowned. “They’ve sent me back here to ensure that they can control me and my future as much as possible.” 

“Fred was an ass,” Angie told her definitively. “He was just another narcissistic man who expected you to give up your studies so that you could keep his home and have his children.”

Peggy gave Angie a small smile, but couldn’t help but sigh.

“My parents expect me to choose a spouse by the end of this season. If not, then I am almost certain that they’ll choose for me.”

“Well don’t sound so entirely downtrodden,” Angie chided. “You still have half a year to find a respectable match who also respects you as a person.”

“So not only do I have to meet someone who can meet all of my impossible standards, but we also both have to fall in love with each other and gain my parents’ approval in less than six months?”

“Michael and I met when I had just come out into society,” Angie reminded her. “And we were married by the end of my first season.”

“Yes well you both are rather dramatic,” Peggy teased.

Angie glared at her.

“And madly in love,” she admitted. “But that sort of love can’t always be found and acted on in such short a time frame.”

Angie gave her a sympathetic smile.

“I know. I understand that it’s likely that your parents will find a way to somehow force you into a terrible marriage with an awful man. But you have to at least try, Peggy. After all, it looks as though you have no other choice.”

Peggy sighed, knowing that Angie was right.

“That’s much of the life of a woman these days, unfortunately.”

A few days later, Peggy went to the seamstress with Angie and Rose. Her mother had insisted she needed a new dress for the Danvers-Rambeau’ ball that they were attending that upcoming Saturday.

Thankfully, Peggy had at least managed to convince her mother that with both Angie and Rose present, she was not needed as a chaperone. Two married women were enough.

“You should get something made with crimson fabric,” Angie told her, comparing the canary yellow fabric to the jonquil. 

“She’s right,” Rose chimed in as she looked through some of the pink hues.

Peggy smiled, running her fingers along the red fabric in front of her. 

“Maybe. It could be a touch too much.”

“You have been eyeing that fabric every time that we have come here over the last two weeks,” Angie told her.

“So, thrice?”

“I think you should do it,” Rose said, moving over to look at the blues. “What better occasion for such a bold colour than a ball? Especially the Danvers-Rambeau ball?”

“What’s so special about this particular ball?”

“First of all, Carol and Maria are experts at throwing balls,” Angie informed her.

“But more importantly, they are much more tolerable than Dottie,” Rose told her. “Meaning that they’re actually genuinely kind and welcoming. No ulterior motives to be found.”

“Have they also found a way to prevent unwanted advances from occurring at their balls? Because if they have that sounds perfect.”

“Unfortunately for you, they have not, but they are nowhere near as elitist with their guest list as many families are,” Angie said.

“How so?”

“Well of course they still invite every family whom you’d assume: the Thompsons, Sousas, Underwoods, Rumlows, et cetera, but they also invite some of the other families that wouldn’t get invited to a ball thrown by any of the aforementioned simply because they lack wealth. We can almost definitely expect Miss Lewis, Mr. Woo, Mr. Fury, Mr. and Mrs. Coulson with their daughter Daisy, Mr. Rogers and his mother, among others.”

Peggy couldn’t help but perk up slightly.

“Mr. Rogers?” she asked innocently.

“Yes, the man who you almost danced with and who notably did not call upon you the following morning will almost certainly be there,” Angie smirked.

Rose gasped.

“He didn’t call on you the next morning?”

Peggy rolled her eyes.

“I regret telling you that. And I’m not upset about it, I’m sure he simply enjoyed our conversation and that was that.”

Angie snorted.

“What?”

“I’d wager that he’s certainly interested, and that he’s either being overly respectful, or you need to send a stronger hint that you’re also interested,” she smirked.

“I never said I was-”

“I think I know a good way to do that,” Rose interjected with a knowing twinkle in her eye. “After all, what do you have to lose, Peg?”

Peggy hummed thoughtfully, feeling the fabric between her fingers.

“You know what, I think I will go with the crimson after all,” she told them decidedly. “This upcoming ball sounds like the perfect occasion for it.”

She pointedly ignored the high five that her closest friends shared in favour of ignoring the way her heart began beating slightly faster at the thought of this Saturday’s ball.

The entire room stopped when she walked in the room. Although this time around Peggy couldn’t even pretend as though Angie was also taking half the attention. Her sister-in-law and Michael had arrived well enough ahead of her that they were already lost within the throngs of the crowd, forcing Peggy to walk in alone with both her mother and father trailing just behind her.

Peggy kept her head held high as she walked through the room in search of anyone she knew. She’d been back home for just about two weeks and she still only knew Angie and Rose well enough to begin a conversation.

As she continued walking, the room slowly came back to life.

Everyone except for Mr. Rogers, she noted.

Peggy caught his eye from a distance. He was unmoving, his gorgeous blue eyes trained solely on her. Her breath caught for a moment, hardly registering her father making an excuse to leave her side. For her mother’s part, she had been called over by some of her friends, to whom she went happily — though not before reminding Peggy just what was expected of her this evening.

Still, Peggy kept her eyes locked with Mr. Rogers’ until an unfamiliar voice called to her from behind.

“Miss Carter?”

Peggy turned around to find a middle aged man with a receding hairline along with two women, the eldest of whom had sleek dark hair, the younger one with wide brown eyes and golden streaks in her wavy hair.

“I’m Phil Coulson,” the man introduced himself after he bowed and the two women beside him curtsied. “This is my wife Melinda and my daughter Daisy.”

“Good evening,” Peggy said with a curtsey. “It is nice to make your acquaintance.”

“Forgive me for interrupting your evening, I simply wanted to say that I know you have just returned to town, and wanted to welcome you back home. I trust everything has been well thus far.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“That’s wonderful. But if you ever need anything, and I mean anything - please do not hesitate to reach out to us.”

“Please forgive my husband for his excitement,” Mrs. Coulson quickly apologized with a fond roll of her eyes. “He absolutely loves balls and meeting new people.”

“He’s like a very excitable golden retriever,” Daisy quipped.

Peggy couldn’t help but smile at Mr. Coulson’s slightly affronted look.

“I only introduce myself so people know there is a friendly face present in the room in case they need one,” he defended.

“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Coulson,” Peggy smiled. “I am certain that a gesture such as that goes highly appreciated among those you introduce yourself too.”

Both Mrs. and Miss Coulson shared a knowing look while the man in question suddenly became rather bashful as he thanked her.

“He also does that when anyone compliments him,” Daisy grinned teasingly. “It’s the only surefire way to stop him from rambling on and on.”

Peggy laughed, but her response was stalled by a familiar voice.

“Peggy!” Angie said as she sidled up to her. She quickly remembered to courtesy to the Coulsons before turning back to her friend. “Here you are, Rose and I have been looking for you. Come on, we need to show you the garden, it’s the most gorgeous thing you’ll ever see.”

“That sounds lovely. And actually,” Peggy said, turning to Daisy. “Would you like to join us, Miss Coulson?”

“She would love to,” Mrs. Coulson answered for her daughter. “I can look after my husband.”

“Since when do I need looking after?”

“From experience? The moment I met you,” she teased before turning to Peggy. “It was lovely to meet you, Miss Carter.”

“You as well Mrs. Coulson,” she smiled before following Angie with Daisy in tow.

“I’m sorry if my dad made you uncomfortable,” Daisy said as soon as they were out of earshot. “I promise he means well.”

“He comes on strong, but I can tell that his heart is in the right place,” she smiled.

“You know, he’s always reminded me of a puppy dog,” Angie mused.

“Because he is!” Daisy exclaimed gleefully. “He has those big blue eyes and the way he gets all excited when he meets a new person and-”

Angie’s eyes suddenly widened and she grabbed Peggy’s wrist.

“What is it, Angie?”

“Mr. Rogers is here.” 

Peggy arched her eyebrow sharply up at Angie.

“Yes I saw him when I first arrived. What of it?”

“Yes, why are you getting worked up about Mr. Rogers’ presence at this ball?” Daisy inquired.

“There’s no time to explain but what I mean he’s right behind you and heading our way.”

“How close is-”

“Miss Carter, Miss Coulson, Mrs. Carter.” 

Peggy turned around sharply at the voice, finding herself mere feet away from him. She almost forgot to curtsey until he bowed.

“Mr. Rogers,” Angie greeted. “What a wonderful surprise. Have you met Miss Coulson?”

“I have, although only briefly,” he smiled. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“You as well,” Daisy smiled. “You’ll have to say hello to my father if you see him here. He still speaks very highly of your last interaction.”

Mr. Rogers turned a pretty shade of pink, and Peggy made a mental note to ask about that later.

“How are you finding this ball, Miss Carter?” he asked her.

“I’m afraid I’ve only just arrived, though the company has been wonderful thus far.”

“That’s because we have yet to run into Mr. Thompson or Mr. Sousa,” Angie joked.

“That’s a given.”

“I’ve found Mr. Sousa to be almost agreeable in my experience,” Daisy countered.

“Yes, he can be agreeable as long as you’re agreeing with him,” Peggy snorted, just in time for Mr. Rogers’ eyebrows to shoot up. “Forgive us, Mr. Rogers,” she added quickly. “I am certain this isn’t what you had in mind when you came over to say hello.”

“Although as I’m sure you’ve noted, Miss Carter rather excels at conversations such as this, just as she does everything else,” Angie noted with a smirk. 

“ Angie ,” Peggy hissed.

“I actually find that gossiping is actually more valuable than most think it to be,” Mr. Rogers said.

Peggy quirked her eyebrow up.

“Is that so?”

“I understand that most men find gossip to be frivolous, but that is only because it is often practiced by women. Because of that they fail to see how useful gossip is. It is an important tool that can help you find out a person’s true nature that one might not have known otherwise. It’s a strategy that can be used to keep those you care about safe by warning them.”

Peggy glanced over at Angie, who considering that she had once wanted to be an actress, couldn’t seem to hide the ever-present smirk that had been on her face since Mr. Rogers’ arrival. For her part, Daisy was looking between them with piqued interest.

Peggy turned back to Mr. Rogers.

And then she smiled.

“I agree entirely, Mr. Rogers.”

“Does this mean I can expect to hear about your thoughts regarding some of the more infamous characters here?” he asked.

Peggy’s eyes widened.

“Absolutely not . At least not while they’re present here.”

Mr. Rogers laughed, and gave her a boyish smile that sent flutters wild in her stomach.

“Then I suppose we shall have to find a time away from all these prying eyes to finish this conversation.”

“Yes,” she said, unable to help the way her voice softened. “I believe we shall.”

As he bid them all a good night, Peggy couldn’t help but think that if she did not find a flaw in Mr. Rogers soon, she ran the risk of getting into some serious trouble.

“Not this again,” Steve sighed as he, Sam and Bucky were out riding their horses the day after the Danvers-Rambeau ball. 

“We wouldn’t have to repeat ourselves if you would actually listen to us,” Sam quipped.

“You clearly already have approval from her sister-in-law , who just so happens to also be her closest friend,” Bucky added.

“Miss Carter’s opinion is the only one that matters. And every sign thus far is pointing to her not wanting to get married. I am not going to insert myself where I am not wanted.”

“From what I’ve seen and heard, Miss Carter definitely seems to want you to insert yourself in her life,” Sam smirked.

“Have you ever even spoken with her?” Steve asked, allowing his frustration to seep into his voice.

“No, but you have,” Bucky grinned. “And let us not forget that she asked you to dance .”

“That happened once.”

“I still believe you should have called on her the next morning,” Bucky said.

“I would have been one of a hundred men vying for her attention, and most likely the one with the least wealth to offer her.”

“She clearly doesn’t care about your position,” Sam interjected. “You should see the looks she gives you when you’re not looking. They are anything but chaste.”

“And she did say she wanted you to continue your conversation . That’s not nothing."

“You know what-”

The end of Steve’s sentence was cut off by the sound of a horse neighing loudly. The next moment, a light brown horse sped wildly by them, and Steve had to settle his own horse, Belle, before she bucked him off from the surprise.

“That horse looks like it belongs to someone,” Steve said. “We should-”

“Willow, come back here!”

The new voice belonged to the rider of a second, black horse that was rapidly approaching.

Miss Carter .

The three men watched with awe as she caught up with the rogue horse and blocked its path. Though the horse tried to escape her, Miss Carter was able to stop and soothe it until it relaxed, and allowed her to lean over and grab its reigns. 

“That’s a good girl. See, nothing to be afraid of. It’s only me,” Miss Carter said softly as she righted herself and turned both her own horse and the rogue one around to return from where they came.

Bucky let out a low whistle, startling Miss Carter.

“Oh,” she said as she realized that she had an audience. “Good afternoon, gentlemen,” she greeted politely, her cheeks slightly pink as she bowed her head in lieu of being able to curtsey.

“Good afternoon, Miss Carter,” Steve said with a smile as the three of them bowed their heads in return. “Out for a leisurely afternoon stroll?”

“I’ve always found that no horse ride is truly complete without a proper chase,” she quipped, her dark eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “I suggest you try it, Mr. Rogers.”

“You’re suggesting I let a horse loose and then take off like Robin Hood after it?”

“Of course. Come now, Mr. Rogers, where is your sense of adventure?” she teased. 

“Mr. Rogers here has always had a tendency to play things safe,” Bucky interjected. “But I assure you that he is more than willing to learn.”

“I certainly hope so,” Miss Carter said, her voice a touch lower than it had been. 

Steve felt his cheeks heat up and he cleared his throat as he tried to get his brain to formulate an appropriate — but respectful response.

“If you would like, Mr. Rogers can escort you and your rogue horse back,” Sam offered on his behalf. 

Before either he or Miss Carter could object, Bucky stepped in.

“My husband and I will be your chaperones,” he announced. “So that no one can accuse either of you of any impropriety.”

Miss Carter arched her eyebrow at Bucky and Sam before turning to Steve.

“I do not wish to be an imposition.”

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Steve reassured her. “But only if you wouldn’t mind the company.”

Miss Carter’s eyes softened and she smiled at him.

“Come along then, Mr. Rogers,” before glancing back. “And of course our dutiful chaperones.”

Steve got Belle to match Miss Carter’s pace, letting both Sam and Bucky trail a few generous feet behind him. He chose to walk on the other side of the rogue horse, lest he give Bucky and Sam anything further to tease him about.

“Do you ride often, Miss Carter?” he asked.

“As often as I can. Jasper here has always been my co-conspirator in such adventures.”

“Belle is my own co-conspirator. Has been since I was young in fact.”

“You named your horse beautiful?” she said, smiling at him.

“Well she is a beauty,” Steve defended.

“She certainly is.”

“Though I must admit that at the time belle was one of the few words I knew in French and I thought it gave her a certain elegance.”

“That’s actually very sweet, Mr. Rogers. Do you speak French fluently now?”

“Not fluently, my reading and writing are better, but I have a basic understanding of the language. How many languages do you know?”

“Well fluently I can speak, write and read French, Italian, Greek, and a touch of Latin.”

“Only a touch?”

“It may be a dead language but a lady must be prepared in case of any scenario.”

Steve laughed.

“Well I certainly know whom I shall be going to in case Latin ever returns in full swing.”

Miss Carter laughed and shook her head slightly.

They passed the next few minutes in comfortable silence, Miss Carter looking ahead, Steve looking at her every now and again. Her hair was tied back into a long braid, a few unruly strands out of place due to her mad rush earlier. The rest of her was all put together, from her boots to her puce coloured riding dress.

“Who does this other beauty belong to?” he finally asked, glancing down at the horse separating them.

“She belongs to my sister-in-law. She doesn’t ride as often as my brother and I do, but Willow’s normally temperate nature means that she is the perfect candidate to teach my niece about horses.”

“Your niece?”

“Her name is Sharon. She’s a little over two years old but I figured that now is as good a time as ever to begin getting her acquainted with horses, and Willow here is as gentle as they come - when she isn’t spooked, that is.”

“Trying to get your niece to follow in your footsteps?”

Miss Carter grinned widely.

“If I were to be honest, I don’t believe that she will need my help getting into trouble. If she takes after even one of her parents they shall have their hands full.”

“Thankfully they have your hands to help them as well."

She laughed softly, ducking her head slightly this time.

“I was always a pain in my mother’s side,” she said after a moment. Her voice was quiet, as though she was confessing a secret. “All my life I’ve only wanted a life of adventure. Or even just the freedom to choose.”

“You feel trapped?” he inquired without thinking as to whether or not she’d want him prodding further into the meaning of her words.

“All women are, in a way,” she told him bluntly. “We are told from the moment we are born that we are only allowed to want marriage and children. We are trained to be a certain kind of desirable so that we may marry as soon as possible, but no one ever asks us if we should like to do something else with our lives - nor do they care. Even if we do wish to marry - whether for love or money - the constraints of society mean that unless we are marrying another woman we are the ones who must settle because we are lucky that someone would dare marry us. And if we don’t marry, well, our prospects in life diminish all the more.” 

Steve looked at her thoughtfully for a few moments as she huffed.

“You all deserve more,” he said softly but firmly.

She gave him a wry smile.

“I’m glad you understand.”

“My mother is the most capable, intelligent woman I know,” he told her matter-of-factly. “My father passed when I was very young and I saw firsthand just how much she struggled - how much she continues to struggle - simply because she is a woman. I have never had to experience it, but it has always made me furious.”

“Was it just the two of you then? Growing up?”

“Yes,” Steve told her. “And I didn’t make it easy on her - I was small and sickly as a child.”

“You were?” she asked incredulously, and he couldn’t help but note how her eyes looked him thoroughly up and down.

He nodded.

“I owe everything to my mother. Not only is she the reason I am alive, but she also made me into the man I am today.”

“Well… I’d say she did a rather wonderful job,” she told him, a genuine smile on her face.

Steve couldn’t help but mirror her smile.

They arrived at her brother’s home all too soon for his liking, where Steve could see the man in question carrying a small girl with blonde hair on his hip. Young Sharon began squirming in his arms at the sight of her aunt. 

Steve couldn’t blame her, as his heart had a very similar reaction every time he encountered Miss Carter.

“Goodbye, Mr. Rogers,” she said. “Thank you for both the escort and the stimulating conversation.”

“Likewise,” he smiled. “It was a pleasure… Robin of Locksley.”

The sun was no match for the grin she gave him before she went off to her family.

“If I might be direct,” Bucky said after Miss Carter was a safe distance away. “I believe that you, my good friend, might be in serious trouble.”

Steve looked back at Miss Carter, who had hopped down from Jasper and was now carrying her niece while her brother and sister-in-law led the horses back to the stable. Miss Carter looked back at him, a soft smile on her face and waved, prompting Sharon to do so as well.

“Yes,” Steve admitted as he waved back. “I believe I am.”

Peggy saw Mr. Rogers at the next ball two days later, hosted by her favourite members of the Fitz family - Leo and Jemma. When she made her entrance with Michael and Angie, she immediately spotted Mr. Rogers and both Mr. Barnes-Wilson speaking with the hosts. Thankfully she was without her parents for the night, as her father had taken ill and her mother insisted on caring for him herself. The only reason Peggy had been allowed to go with Michael and Angie as her chaperones was that she had not only danced with half a dozen men the last ball, but she had begrudgingly accepted a very brief, chaperoned walk with Mr. Thompson the day before.

Jemma saw them enter and enthusiastically waved them over. Peggy hadn’t seen Jemma since her first days back home. Her school-time friend had been busy with their newborn, Alya, who was hardly a month old now.

Halfway to the group, Mr. Rogers caught Peggy’s eye, and she suddenly lost her breath as she saw them light up ever so slightly upon seeing her. The only reason her steps hadn’t faltered was due to Angie’s arm being looped tightly through hers.

She and Angie curtsied as Michael bowed, and the party in front of them gave them the same greeting.

Jemma, for all her stiff upbringing that Peggy shared, openly shared her joy at seeing each other again, and gave Peggy a tight (if brief) hug. 

“Good evening, love,” Jemma said. “It is so wonderful to see you.”

“Same to you, darling,” Peggy smiled. “How is little Alya?”

“Fast asleep,” Jemma assured.

“She knows because she’s gone to check on her no less than five times in the last hour,” Leo joked.

“Tonight is the longest I’ve been away from her,” Jemma admitted sheepishly. “She’s just on the other end of the house and even then it’s so difficult, especially when she looks as sweet and adorable as she does.”

“She truly is a treasure,” her husband agreed. “I can say that because she has taken after my beautiful wife in almost every way.”

Peggy smiled warmly as they shared a caring look. What she wouldn’t give for a love like theirs.

“And how are you this evening Mr. Rogers, Mr. and Mr. Barnes-Wilson?” Angie redirected.

In a rather pointed fashion, Peggy couldn’t help but think.

“We’re doing well, thank you,” Mr. Wilson answered.

As the rest of the group began chatting about the latest engagement between Miss Romanoff and Miss Hill, Peggy couldn’t help but keep looking over at Mr. Rogers.

She might also dare say that he was having the same issue.

After Jemma and Leo excused themselves to play host to more of their arriving guests, Michael and Angie were engaged in conversation with Mr. Barnes and Mr. Wilson. As Peggy listened politely as they debated the advantages and disadvantages of a hyphenated last name as opposed to sharing the same one, Mr. Rogers subtlety stepped closer to her.

“Have you had any more adventures since I’ve seen you last, Miss Carter? Or have you officially changed your name to Robin of Locksley yet?” he teased in a quiet voice.

Peggy grinned.

“I plan on keeping my own name, Mr. Rogers. No matter how many new adventures I go on.”

“It does suit you quite well.”

Peggy considered him for a moment, unable to stop the corners of her mouth quirking up.

“You are only saying what you think I wish to hear.”

“That is quite a serious accusation, Miss Carter.”

“I’ll have you know that I take these sorts of matters very seriously, Mr. Rogers.”

He leaned in ever so closer, and lowered his voice, sending involuntary shivers throughout her body.

“And what would the punishment be should I be found guilty?”

Peggy pretended to muse it over for a moment and matched his tone.

“Considering that you had noble intentions, your reparations should be minimal. All that would be asked of you, Mr. Rogers, is a dance.”

His mouth grew into a wide smile.

“A dance?”

“A dance,” she confirmed. “One that I may ask you for at any time this season.”

“That sounds more than reasonable.”

“I should certainly hope so, seeing as I’m planning on keeping you to your word.”

“I look forward to it, Miss Carter.”

“As do I, Mr. Rogers,” she whispered.

For a moment they simply gazed into each others eyes, and Peggy couldn’t help the warmth that bloomed in her chest. It took every ounce of her restraint not to close the gap between them right then and there.

“Well then,” Michael announced rather loudly. “I promised my sister a proper chaperoned-turn about the room.”

Peggy and Mr. Rogers jumped slightly apart.

“What?” Angie asked, clearly as confused as Peggy felt.

“Come along, Peg.”

Peggy frowned, only just remembering to curtsey in goodbye before Michael grabbed her arm.

“Don’t think that I don’t know what you’re doing,” Michael told her as he escorted her away, Angie attempting to keep pace beside him.

“And what am I doing Michael?”

“You were flirting with Mr. Rogers for the entire ball to see.”

“First of all, no one but those of our immediate circle was paying close enough attention to us to notice. Secondly, the flirting was mutual. And thirdly, can you honestly blame me?”

“I certainly don’t,” Angie winked.

“Peg… our mother and father will expect you to make an advantageous match this season.”

“Yes I know,” Peggy huffed irritably. 

“Sweetheart, do you really expect her to marry Mr. Thompson or Mr. Sousa?” Angie asked him pointedly.

Michael sighed and finally stopped walking.

“No,” he said honestly. “You deserve more than them.”

“Exactly. I refuse to become some man’s pet . Those men only care about my wealth and status. Some of them even like the challenge of taming me, as it were.”

“I just worry about you getting hurt,” Michael told her before quickly continuing on. “I know you can take care of yourself, but I see the way you look at him and it’s so different from how you look at everyone else.”

“Because he’s different,” Peggy told him. “I understand that you have hardly had a chance to speak to him but you must trust me. He’s-”

“He’s what , Peg?”

Peggy thought about their first meeting, how Mr. Rogers had blushed and stuttered and called her beautiful three times — but didn’t ask her to dance because he didn’t wish to impose himself on her. About how he had called her Robin of Locksley with clear admiration and dare she say — affection. The way he spoke of his mother, his clear love for her.

When she was around Mr. Rogers she felt seen and respected and like what she had to say was important .

“He’s wonderful,” she said softly, surprised by her own honesty.

She paused for a few moments as she slowly came to a realization.

That she was in immediate danger of falling in love with Mr. Rogers.

And that perhaps, that wasn’t such a terrible thing.

Steve hummed to himself as he flipped through the pile of letters. At the bottom of the stack, he found a small letter with unfamiliar writing addressed to him. After setting the other letters down, he opened it.

Dear Mr. Rogers,

I hope you do not mind that I am writing you. As to how I acquired your address, my brother is rather good friends with Mr. Barnes, and after a fair amount of convincing, he so kindly supplied it, therefore if you have an issue with it, you should take it up with him.

I shall keep this short, so as to not take up too much more of your time. Tomorrow in the early afternoon I will be at Kingsley park, pretending to promenade for appropriate suitors. 

Should you also be present, I was thinking, hoping I should say, that we could promenade together. You are certainly better company than anyone else whom I shall be most definitely turning away.

Sincerely,

Peggy Carter

Steve grinned widely, heart racing as he read it over and over again. 

Peggy Carter wrote him a letter.

Peggy Carter wrote him a letter because she wanted to promenade with him .

Though he was suddenly filled with a million nervous and excited butterflies in his stomach, he knew that tomorrow wouldn’t be able to come fast enough.

“I swear to you Darlene, the letter had to be from Miss Carter,” Sarah told her friends avidly at their tea the next morning. “I’ve only seen him smile that way when he’s stared at her from across a ballroom.”

“Does this mean they’re courting?” Winnie asked eagerly.

“I’m not certain, but if she’s writing to him that must mean something, right?”

“As long as she isn’t toying with our boy,” Darlene said.

Winnie shook her head.

“Miss Carter doesn’t seem like the type.”

“How do you know what type Miss Carter is?”

“I have to agree with Winnie,” Sarah interjected. “Everyone I’ve talked to has said how kind she is, how intelligent and well spoken. The only ones who have had anything negative to say about her — that I’ve heard of — are the men she’s turned down.”

“And we all know how reliable men like that are,” Darlene snorted.

“You know her parents won’t be happy about this,” Winnie warned.

Sarah sighed.

“I know. But perhaps if I can somehow show them that I am supportive of them, that they have me fighting in their corner, it could help their budding romance along.”

“Absolutely not. You’ll scare them if you do that,” Darlene teased.

“Oh hush. If I remember correctly you two were ready to hatch a full matchmaking plan the moment your sons expressed half an interest in each other,” Sarah smirked.

“And now they’re married,” Winnie argued.

“Because I talked you both out of it.”

“Touché.”

“Alright,” Peggy’s mother all but announced from where they had set up their space in the park. “You look perfect. Now go promenade.”

“Yes and with any luck I shall return already married.”

“Don’t you joke about that sort of thing, Margaret,” her mother said sternly. “If you had half the sense I do, you would have already married Mr. Wells.”

“Well thank goodness I don’t.” 

“Hold your tongue, Margaret. You’re lucky that it isn’t too late for you,” she said in a sharp whisper. “That you still have options, good options at that.”

Peggy forced herself to bite back the myriad of responses that came to mind. The sooner she began her promenade, the sooner she could end her promenade. She gave her mother a curt nod and allowed her to take her arm. Peggy forced herself to walk along the paved path in silence, trying not to make it too obvious that she was looking for one person in particular. 

“You could at least try to smile,” her mother whispered through her teeth.

“You do realize that whether I smile or not, the chances of a gentleman approaching me are next to nothing due to the fact that you have attached yourself to me.”

“This way I can guarantee that you won’t run away.”

“As tempting as that is I think I’d much rather prefer to have circulation in my left arm again.”

“ Margaret -”

“Miss Carter?”

Peggy tempered her smile as she turned around, managing to detach her arm from her mother’s in the process.

“Mr. Rogers,” she greeted with a polite curtsey.

“Good afternoon,” he smiled as he bowed. “To you as well, Mrs. Carter.”

Peggy continued to fight back a smile, even as her mother eyed Steve with disdain and hardly even curtsied in greeting.

“Forgive me for interrupting, but would I was hoping to be so bold as to ask you for a walk.”

Her mother looked practically affronted, but Peggy quickly answered before she could get any ideas of turning him down on her behalf.

“That would be perfectly acceptable, Mr. Rogers.”

“Margaret I don’t think-”

“Oh come now mother, isn’t that why I’m here? To walk with perfectly respectable gentlemen?” Peggy smiled before she turned back to Mr. Rogers. “Shall we?”

His face lit up and he offered her his arm. Without looking back at her mother — who was most likely still resembling a gaping fish — Peggy accepted, trying not to think about how warm and solid he felt beside her. She could feel the many eyes of the other people around the area watch them closely. The only downside of asking Mr. Rogers to a place where they could walk about without a chaperone meant that there were plenty of prying eyes around them.

Once they were a decent enough distance away from her mother, Peggy looked up at him.

“I see you received my letter.”

“I did,” he smiled.

“And you actually came.”

“How could I not? A beautiful, intelligent woman with an adventurous spirit requested my company.”

“Oh stop it,” she said, resisting the urge to playfully shove his shoulder. “It’s not as though I forced you into it.”

“I know,” he told her, his voice soft. “I came because I wished to see you, and spend time with you. It truly is an honour to be by your side, Miss Carter.”

Peggy couldn’t fight back the smile on her face, and she ducked her head for a moment.

“At the risk of sounding too forward, that is exactly why I asked you to come,” she admitted. “To spend time with you.”

“And here I thought you just needed someone who was barely tolerable to promenade with so that you wouldn’t be forced to promenade with your mother or one of her chosen suitors.”

“I will admit that is a marvellous advantage,” she laughed. “After all, none of my mother’s suitors can be bothered to even hear about the proper method to make tea.”

“The proper way to make tea? Forgive me if I sound callous, but I thought you would have army of staff to make your tea.”

“This is true,” she said. “But I learned the hard way how important it is to be able to make your own cuppa.”

“The hard way? I fear the terrible event that caused you to have to learn how to make a cup of tea.”

Peggy shook her head, her smile growing wider at his teasing.

“One time in boarding school I once convinced Jemma Simmons - now Fitz-Simmons - to go on an impromptu, unsanctioned weekend trip into the nearest town, just the two of us. Now I shan’t bore you with all the details but we ended up at an inn with terrible tea.”

“Was it truly that bad?” 

“It was simply horrid , Mr. Rogers! As was the owner who just happened to be serving us. When we politely inquired if we could possibly have new tea, he began yelling and he told us that if his tea was so bad, the two of us were more than welcome to go into the kitchen and make our own. I had half a mind to do so.”

“But neither of you knew how to make tea?” he guessed.

“ Yes ! It was rather embarrassing, especially since I consider myself rather proficient at most things.”

“And modest,” he grinned.

“I am no less modest than any man.”

“Touché,” he admitted. “And so that embarrassment inspired you to learn how to make tea properly?”

“The first day I went back home,” she grinned proudly. “It’s the only thing I can make but I make it excellently and therefore consider myself a very good judge on the matter.”

Mr. Rogers laughed softly.

“Well then I suppose I should also learn the proper way to make tea so that you are not entirely offended at my efforts.”

“Do you plan on making me tea in the future, Mr. Rogers?”

As though realizing the implication of his phrasing, his eyes widened and his cheeks went pink. Though before he could begin what Peggy could only assume to be one of his trademark adorable rambles, a third voice from behind them forced her attention elsewhere.

“Miss Carter.”

Peggy stifled a groan and reluctantly turned around.

“Mr. Sousa,” she said simply as she curtsied, Mr. Rogers following her lead and bowing politely. “I trust you have been well.”

“I have indeed. Can you believe it has been a week since we have seen each other last?”

“Has it only been a week?”

“Feels more like an eternity to me.”

“The shortest eternity I’ve ever experienced.”

She heard Mr. Rogers stifle a laugh, and it took all her self control not to smile at him.

“I was wondering if you might like to take a walk together, Miss Carter,” Mr. Sousa continued, ignoring Mr. Rogers entirely.

“I am already on a walk with someone, Mr. Sousa, in case you have not noticed.”

“Certainly Mr. Rogers does not mind-”

“I am certain that Mr. Rogers can speak for himself,” Peggy interrupted, hardly able to keep the irritation out of her voice. “And I certainly have answered already.”

“Well your mother thought it a good idea that I join you,” Sousa said, almost sounding smug at the fact that he had her mother’s approval.

“My mother does not speak for me,” Peggy informed him. “You would do well to remember that, Mr. Sousa.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

Peggy took a deep breath, trying to temper her anger. Beside her she could feel Mr. Rogers tense.

“Like what, Mr. Sousa?”

“You are acting differently than every other time we have spent time together. If this man is bothering you-”

“Mr. Rogers is not the one bothering me, Mr. Sousa,” she said acidly. “I have held my tongue during our previous interactions due my mother’s presence but I believe it is high time to be openly candid with you, as you clearly have been unable to discern my indirect dismissals. I am not interested in a courtship with you, let alone a marriage. I assume you have good intentions but I have no intention of being your housewife. Now, or at any point in the future. Good day.”

“But-”

“I said good day,” she repeated coldly.

Mr. Sousa looked at her much like she’d kicked his horse before he finally seemed to realize the finality of the situation, and left. Peggy let out a small breath of relief. Though she wasn’t looking forward to the dressing down she was going to receive from her mother, it was certainly a relief to know that she wouldn’t have to worry about Mr. Sousa for at least the rest of this season.

She hoped.

“That was incredible,” Mr. Rogers said, his voice tinged with awe.

“You really think so?”

“I have never seen anyone come up against Mr. Sousa. And if I may, you did it quite well. I could watch that exchange hundreds of times and still enjoy it.”

Peggy felt her shoulders drop with further relief that she hadn’t driven him away.

“If you thought that was impressive, you should see my right hook.”

“What in the bloody hell were you thinking?”

Peggy sighed. While word about her argument with Mr. Sousa hadn’t gotten back to her mother until after they were back home, she was still in no mood to argue this point.

“You’ll have to be more specific mother, as I tend to have many thoughts-”

“Rejecting Mr. Sousa so coldly at the park!”

Peggy sighed.

“If Mr. Sousa has mistook my directness for coldness, I would say that’s his issue, now isn’t it?”

“When did you become such an insolent child?”

“I’m an insolent young woman , thank you very much.”

“How dare you speak to your mother that way?”

“Respect is a two way street.”

“Oh my dear, you have no idea just how much more demanding we can get.”

“Believe me, I know,” Peggy said darkly. “I haven’t forgotten how you both changed toward me the moment I broke my engagement to Fred. You barely even speak to me unless it’s to set up dinners or balls or promenades with suitors that you’ve already approved, or to berate me for rejecting those suitors. So go ahead, tighten your grip. You can’t break my heart any more than you already have.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To visit Michael and Angie.”

“Margaret don’t you dare leave-”

The door slammed behind her before her mother could finish her sentence.

“So just to be clear,” Angie began slowly as she set down her tea cup. “You’re asking me to not only be your designated chaperone when you wish to spend more time with Mr. Rogers — whom you wish to be courting officially but can’t because of your parents — but you also want me to run interference with your parents when they try to set you up on walks, dinners, et cetera, with Mr. Thompson and any other suitors they may choose?”

“Yes, and I know it’s a lot for me to ask of you, but-”

“Say no more. You can count on me.”

“Really?”

“Of course. And not only because I’ve never seen you happier than you are around Mr. Rogers. It will also be rather cathartic for me after all the grief I received — and continue to receive — from your parents about my marriage to Michael. In fact, it might be rather fun for me.”

“Oh thank you Angie,” Peggy squealed as she threw her arms around her friend. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Angie grinned and hugged her back tightly.

“So what is our first step?”

“We’ll have to start small,” Peggy told her. “But this is what I’m thinking.”

Steve received a letter from Miss Carter two days later.

Dear Mr. Rogers,

I know you have told me not to worry about it, but I feel as though I should properly apologize for the incident at the park yesterday. It was never my intention for you to become caught in the middle of such a public scene. Although I do want to be clear that my regret lies from Mr. Sousa’s actions and you having to be witness to them.

As for the matter of your company, I hold no such regrets. 

If I may be so bold, I look forward to our next meeting. So much so, that perhaps if you have been invited to the Rumlow’s ball, I could finally ask you for that dance.

If you are still amenable, that is.

Sincerely,

Peggy

Steve grinned widely, rereading the letter several times over. Her tone was direct, to the point, but it was also kind. He even dared to say that it was almost caring. Whether she was interested in friendship or something more, he was simply happy that she wished to be in his presence. He took a breath as he remembered how it felt to have Miss Carter’s arm looped through his, hear her laugh at his jokes and smile when he said something she liked.

Dear Miss Carter,

You need not apologize for what happened at the park. The fault lies with Mr. Sousa and his despicable treatment toward you. I must admit however, that I was very impressed at your response to him. You continuously surprise and inspire me.

While I won’t be at the highly anticipated Rumlow ball in two days’ time (due to a lack of invitation and a lack of will to go even if I had one), I would like to say that I also look forward to when I can see you next. And if I may be bold, I look forward to that dance, whenever it may come.

Sincerely,

Steve

They continuously exchanged letters from then. At first they were brief, innocent and polite, but they soon grew to be pages long, detailing stories from their childhood, to their families, and their wishes for the future.

Steve felt a thrill inside him knowing that Miss Carter confided such things to him, that this vibrant, intelligent, wonderful woman continued to write him letters. That despite the fact that he’d hardly seen her in person since their walk together, he was still privy to her thoughts and opinions, and that he could learn more about her.

Dear Miss Carter,

I am glad to hear that your misadventures with the piano as a young girl have not deterred you from continuing your education of it. Perhaps one day when I have gained more of your trust you could play something for me. I am certain that you would excel at such a task, as I find you have everything done so in I’ve seen you accomplish thus far (it seems your sister-in-law was right). I myself am woefully untalented when it comes to music, but I do draw, and have been told that I can be somewhat competent, even. Perhaps I can even trade you a drawing for a song, if you are amenable, that is.

I must admit with the turn in the weather recently, my thoughts have turned somewhat melancholy with it. I have found myself wondering often when I may be able to see you next (only if and when you wish to do so).

Respectfully yours,

Steve

He knew that this latest letter was a tad bolder than normal, but truthfully, Steve thought it was high time for him to be bold.

And with the arrival of Miss Carter's next letter, Steve knew that it had paid off.

Dear Mr. Rogers,

I do believe we are at the point where you may call me Peggy - at least in these letters. My reason being that I would very much like to call you Steve, and I have always believed that turnabout is fair play.

You truly think too highly of me, but I would love to see your drawings. If that means that I must swallow my pride and fumble through a song or two, it is a price I will gladly pay (so long as you withhold your judgement and excuse my less than nimble fingers).

As for when you may see me next, perhaps these may be of help.

Affectionately,

Peggy

PS. Do not think that I have forgotten about the dance you owe me.

After finishing her letter, Steve finally looked at the two extra pieces of paper in the envelope. 

Invitations to the Carter’s ball the next evening.

Peggy smoothed down her dress, casually craning her neck to take another look around the room.

“Looking for anyone in particular?” Angie asked from behind her.

“The way you’re asking makes me think you already know the answer,” Peggy replied drolly without taking her eyes off the dance floor.

“He hasn’t arrived yet, I just checked.”

Peggy sighed and turned to face Angie.

“Am I really that obvious?”

“Just to me. But I’m sure Mr. Rogers will be here soon,” she assured. “That man would follow you to the ends of the earth. There is no chance that he’d miss the opportunity to see you. Maybe even share that dance.”

“Angie-”

“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“Of course I’ve thought about it,” she answered, unable to help the smile that formed on her face. “But to dance with him at my own family’s ball is-”

“The perfect way to silently - but pointedly - tell them that you are going to marry whom you please?”

“I was going to say it’s a surefire way to ruin any chance I might have with him.”

“You won’t know that until you do it.”

“It seems like a rather dramatic way to find out.”

“You say that as though you’re not the most dramatic person I know,” Angie grinned. “Just, think about it at least, will you? At the very least you know your parents wouldn’t dare cause such a public scene - least of all in their own home.”

Peggy rolled her eyes fondly, but nodded slightly, knowing that Angie was right.

“Miss Carter?”

Her heart sunk, knowing it was not the particular blond, blue eyed man she’d ben waiting for. 

“Mr. Thompson,” she greeted politely.

“Care for a dance?”

“Actually I’d rather sit this one out, thank you.”

“I’m certain that there are plenty of people expecting our dance.”

“Yes well if I were to follow everyone’s expectations all the time then that would make life quite boring for everyone involved.”

Mr. Thompson’s eyes went entirely cold at her comment. Peggy straightened her back when a familiar figure in the distance caught her eye.

Mr. Rogers.

Peggy thought about Angie’s earlier words. If she wanted that dance — which she did — here of all places, she would have to earn it. Fighting her instincts, she turned to face Mr. Thompson once more.

“Actually,” she amended. “I suppose following expectations every once in a while couldn’t hurt.”

Thompson’s mouth grew into a smarmy smile, and Peggy had to fight back the disgust she felt as she took his proffered arm and followed him to the dance floor.

“Well look at who’s here,” Bucky said loudly once Steve was within earshot of his two closest friends.

“Would you look at that?” Sam agreed.

“Not that I’m not overjoyed that you’re here, but since when do you get invited to the Carter family’s balls?”

“I think it’s just my good luck,” he shrugged.

“Mhmm, and does that good luck happen to take shape in a certain beautiful young brunette woman whose parents are the hosts of this ball?”

“That is on a need to know basis,” he smirked.

“And?” Bucky prodded.

“I’m assuming we don’t need to know,” Sam frowned.

“Like hell we don’t. There is no one more invested in your blossoming romance-”

“I wouldn’t call it-”

“-with Miss Carter than the two of us,” Bucky continued as though Steve hadn’t interrupted him.

Steve shook his head fondly, before looking out at the dance floor, where Miss Carter was currently with Thompson.

“Still, it seems I’ve missed my chance.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Sam told him.

“How do you know that?”

“We were standing close enough to hear, but far enough that Miss Carter couldn’t see us. She rejected Thompson’s offer to dance at first.”

“Then what changed? Why is she dancing with him now?”

“You entered the room,” Bucky told him.

“How is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Miss Carter is intelligent,” Sam said. “She is well aware that Thompson is also one of the only viable candidates that her parent. So if she wishes her leash to be loosened even slightly, she has to be strategic about when and where she plays by her parents’ rules.”

“So she’s subjecting herself to his presence so that she I can be in hers?” he asked, bewildered that she would do such a thing. “Why?”

“Steve, if we still have to spell it out for you, you’re worse off that we thought,” Bucky smirked.

Steve ignored the way his cheeks heated up in favour of looking back at the dance floor. His eyes met Miss Carter’s. Though the moment was brief, he could see the same thing he felt clearly reflected in her gaze. 

Longing.

Finally, after three never-ending dances with Thompson, Peggy managed to escape to a corner of the ballroom. She took a breath and shut her eyes, wanting just a moment of peace.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Peggy opened her eyes, a welcome sight standing in front of her.

“Mr. Rogers,” Peggy smiled. “It’s so wonderful to see you again.”

“You as well, Miss Carter,” he grinned. “It feels like an eternity since I have seen you in person last.”

“I know, and I sincerely regret it. But alas my mother grows more desperate, which means more and more of my time as of late involves being forced into picnics and dinners and teas with the most egotistical men this county has to offer.”

Steve frowned.

“That sounds dreadful.”

“It is,” she sighed. “There’s only so many times I can force a smile when Mr. Thompson implies that I shall be well taken care of when I marry him.”

He frowned, but before he could answer, she continued on.

“But never mind all that,” she told him. “How is your mother? I haven’t seen her here tonight.”

“She has a bit of a cold she’s fighting off at the moment. Otherwise she would have been here.”

“Oh,” she frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. Please do send her my best.”

“Believe me, she was ready to come along, it took quite a while for me to talk her into staying at home and resting.”

“How did you manage that?”

“Well…”

“Yes?” she prodded eagerly.

“I had to allow her to approve my outfit for tonight,” he admitted reluctantly, his ears turning pink.

Peggy covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the indecent snort that escaped her.

“Well do tell her that I think she did an excellent job,” she told him, flicking her eyes up and down his figure. “She has good taste.”

“I will be sure to tell her that,” he smiled as he held her gaze.

“Mr. Rogers?” she asked softly after a few moments.

“Yes Miss Carter?”

“You still owe me a dance.”

“Here?” he asked, clearly bewildered at her proposition. “Everyone will talk.”

“Let them,” she said decisively, extending her hand for him to take.

Steve’s breath caught in his throat as Miss Carter extended her hand to him, an invitation not only to dance, but to be seen. Together. Despite the glove that separated her skin from his, he inhaled sharply as he took her hand. As they walked slowly with purpose toward the dance floor, Steve could feel every head turn to look at them. Still, he didn’t falter under the gazes and stares. With Peggy’s hand in his, he felt like he could do anything.

She curtsied. He bowed in return. And the whole world narrowed to just her. Despite the other people dancing around them, despite the glares and the whispers, Steve’s only focus was on Peggy. Her hand in his, the waft of her perfume every time she moved by him, her never faltering smile every time they locked eyes.

Their dance lasted simultaneously an eternity and yet not long enough. Soon enough they were bowing and curtseying to each other, this time as a bookend to the last few minutes. As everyone clapped, they remained gazing at each other with soft smiles.

“Thank you for the dance, Mr. Rogers,” she whispered.

“The honour was all mine, Miss Carter.”

With a large smile, she finally stepped away and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him staring after her with a dazed grin of his own.

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind him finally brought him out of his reverie.

“If you’re not careful, you’ll start drooling in front of everyone,” Sam teased.

Steve rolled his eyes as Bucky snickered.

“Never mind the two of you,” Steve said. “Nothing can ruin my good mood now.”

“Even the gossip that has been swirling around this ball since the second you took Miss Carter’s hand?”

“Even that,” Steve grinned, clapping Sam on the back. “Now who would like a drink?”

After Peggy’s tenth dance after the only one that mattered that night, she managed to find a moment alone on one of the balconies of her parents’ estate. Despite the chill in the air, she was content to stand and look at the sky and appreciate the twinkling stars that were speckled across their dark canvass.

As she had expected, there was some backlash to her dance with Mr. Rogers. Despite strategically dancing thrice with Mr. Thompson prior, and accepting an offer from Mr. Rumlow immediately after, she was bombarded with a litany of whispers behind her back, wondering why she would dance with him. She didn’t even blink twice.

After all, it would take hours to list all her reasons.

While Peggy knew her mother was seething at her actions, she also knew that she wouldn’t be able to deny that her daughter had danced with plenty of eligible men. Mr. Rogers could be credited as nothing more than a random whim of the night.

Except he was so much more than that.

He was kind and intelligent. He had a close relationship with his mother. He named his first horse Belle as opposed to simply Beauty because he thought she deserved a better name. He respected her, wanted to learn more about her.

And if the way he looked at her was any indication, he genuinely cared about her.

Perhaps he even…

A pair of heavy footsteps interrupted her reverie. 

“Mr. Rogers,” she smiled gratefully.

“Miss Carter, I’m sorry to keep intruding on you. I only came out here to escape the crowd. I can go if-”

She shook her head.

“You are always more than welcome to join me.”

The smile he gave her was brighter than all the stars in the sky combined.

“I adore balls,” she admitted. “But sometimes it’s nice to simply look at the stars.”

After a few moments of her getting lost in her own thoughts, she caught him staring at her with an expression she couldn’t quite make out in the low lighting.

“What is it?” she asked softly.

“Miss Carter-”

“Peggy,” she interrupted. “No one else is here to hear such… informalities. Please call me Peggy.”

“Peggy,” he corrected with a smile. “If I may be bold… I care for you. I’m not so foolish to presume that I am the only one vying for your affection, I know that you can have anyone you want. But if you give me a chance-”

“Steve-”

“Please let me finish,” he asked as he took another step forward. “If you give me even half a chance… I promise to do everything in my power to make you happy. To give you the life that you want and deserve.”

“I believe you,” she said softly. “And my answer is yes.”

“I - wait… yes?”

“Do you really not know how I feel for you?”

She watched him swallow thickly in disbelief.

“I… I wished but I would never dare assume. I - yes?”

“Yes, I wish to court you,” she grinned. “Officially. And none of that half chance nonsense. I’m all in.”

His face widened into an impossibly large grin.

“That’s the best news I’ve ever heard all week,” he told her sincerely. “And that includes you asking me to dance earlier tonight.”

“Now we do face some complications,” she warned him, though there was a smile on her face. “Mostly my parents and their desire for me to marry someone of their choosing. Apparently I can’t be trusted to make a good enough match for myself.”

“Then I’ll wait for you,” he assured her quickly. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

She shook her head.

“I am not going to delay my own happiness while my parents fight for control of my life,” she told him firmly. “While we court in secret, I’ll find some way to get them to approve of us - or at least call off the various suitors they’re attempting to arrange for me.”

“And if you can’t?”

“And if I can’t, I’m almost 21 and at the very least I can stall until then. After that, it won’t matter what they say, I’ll be able to marry whomever I wish without needing their consent. That is… if you’re willing to court in secret.”

“Yes,” he responded immediately, taking a small step forward.. “Yes, I would love to have the honour of courting you, Miss -  Peggy . In any fashion you’ll have me… but how will we avoid being found out?”

Peggy grinned.

“You leave that part to me, my darling.”

Steve met Miss Carter three days later at a designated location that was sent to him through a letter. He turned the corner of the designated park and found the entrance to a large hedge maze that her words told him he would find.

“Peggy,” he smiled when he saw her and her sister-in-law. “Mrs. Rogers,” he added quickly, bowing to both of them.

“Mr. Rogers. Steve,” she amended softly as they both curtsied. “You came.”

“Of course I did,” he told her as he closed the majority of the distance between them.

She grinned widely at him, her cheeks turning a light pink.

“Angie has agreed to play the part of our chaperone,” she told him, clearing her throat slightly. “She has even promised to make herself sufficiently scarce while take we turn about the hedges.”

“That’s very generous of you, Mrs. Carter.”

“I would do anything for Peggy… And I mean anything .”

Steve raised his eyebrow at her intense stare.

“Including hurting those who should decide to play around with her affections,” she finished.

“ Angie -”

“I simply wish to inform Mr. Rogers of the consequences should this budding courtship grow sour.”

“It’s alright,” he assured Peggy before turning to Mrs. Carter. “I understand completely, but I would never harm her. I know the privilege I am being given, and I have no plans to take it - take you , Peggy - for granted.”

Angie scrutinized him closely, and she gave him a small, almost approving, nod.

“One misstep and you shall regret it for the rest of your life,” Angie warned.

“I’m certain I will,” he agreed.

“If you’re done threatening the poor man,” Peggy interjected exasperatedly. “I’d like to take that walk now.”

“Alright,” she huffed with a satisfactory grin. “Go and have some mostly chaperone-less fun. As long as you remain decent.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

Before her sister-in-law could continue teasing her, Peggy took his elbow and marched him off further into the hedge maze.

“I’m incredibly sorry about that,” she said once they were out of earshot, releasing her hold on his elbow. “Angie means well but she’s always been intense in her methods.”

“It’s clear she loves you,” Steve told her with a smile before looking around them. “How did you know this place would be empty?”

“From my experience, no one likes going here because the gardener built this maze to be too complicated to navigate through easily.”

“And you’re not worried that we’ll get lost?”

“Now would that be such a terrible thing, Mr. Rogers?” she cheeked. 

Steve smiled, trying to ignore the way his heart began hammering at the thought of being alone in this maze with her.

“I used to run away from my governesses as a little girl. One day I stumbled onto this place. It took hours for anyone to find me, but I grew to love it, especially because it was a chance for me to be alone. I visited as often as I could and eventually learned it inside out. You’re in good hands.”

“Oh I know,” he grinned, offering her his arm. His smile grew as she looped her own through his.

“Look at you. A charmer after all.”

“I do my best,” he grinned, allowing Peggy to lead them leisurely through the maze. “Though I must admit that I require much more practise. My experience is woefully lacking in this area.”

“Surely that couldn’t have been for lack of interest. Just based on how you look, of course,” she smirked.

“I’m afraid the lack of interest was on my part. It never felt… I suppose I wanted to wait.”

“Was there a reason you were waiting?”

“The right partner.”

She smiled then, simultaneously soft and radiant in a way that made Steve want to draw her, made him want to live in this moment forever.

She could have remained walking with Steve for hours (and it had been at least an hour already) but when she heard a familiar whistle, she knew Angie was warning her that she needed to get back for dinner. They were hosting the Thompsons tonight, and while she had no wish to leave her current companion’s side, it wouldn’t do for her to be late. If she was going to get what she desired, she would need to play the long game.

“I’m afraid I must get going,” she told him with a sad smile. “But I want you to know that I can’t remember laughing this much in a long time.”

“Me as well. I had a wonderful time,” he smiled.

“Even though Angie was eavesdropping on us this entire time?”

His eyes widened and he turned his head to look behind them, frowning when there was no one there.

“She was?”

“No I wasn’t,” a familiar voice called out from behind the greenery. “And you have no proof even if I was.”

They both looked at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing. Her cheeks ached from how much she had smiled this afternoon, but she continued grinning at him even after their laughter had subsided.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“For what?”

She didn’t know where to begin. For being kind and genuine. For being interested in her, not for her fortune, but for her interests and thoughts and personality. For seeing her . All of her.

“Just… thank you.”

Steve smiled in understanding and raised her hand to his lips. Even through her gloves she could feel their warmth, and she lost her breath.

“Until next time, Miss Carter,” he whispered.

And so they kept up with their clandestine meetings for the next few weeks. Most times they met at the maze with Angie in tow as their mostly absent chaperone. When she became indisposed, they enlisted the additional help of Sam and Bucky. With the snow slowly melting, their walks through the maze became easier to navigate, though Steve found that with Peggy on his arm it didn’t matter where they were.

Despite the dark cloud of her parents’ interference hanging above them, her continued promises that her affections remained solely with him eased his anxiety. Even when she arrived late or their time together was cut short, Steve knew that she was risking everything by coming.

By being with him .

He knew he didn’t have much to offer. While he wasn’t poor, he couldn’t hold a candle to her class or wealth. But he also knew well enough that she didn’t care for any of that. When he made her laugh, it was genuine. When she disagreed with him she avidly debated with him. Despite what her parents were planning for her, she was determined to live her life by her own choices.

And for some reason that he couldn’t fathom, but wasn’t about to dispute, she had chosen him.

“I’m being entirely serious,” she told him as they casually trotted side by side on their horses in a field far enough away that they didn’t have to worry about being recognized. Angie was following several feet away behind them on Willow with Sharon in her arms. “I never liked riding with anyone else. All I ever needed was Jasper.”

He considered her for a moment.

“Then what makes this time different?”

Peggy looked over at him, steadily meeting his gaze.

“The right partner.”

Dear Steve,

I am glad to hear that your mother is steadily regaining her strength and her health. Please continue giving her my best.

As to the matter we discussed the other night, I am continuing to persuade my parents (to varying degrees of success) that I have other more than adequate options that don’t involve Mr. Thompson. My mother has at least finally agreed that Mr. Sousa is a lost cause, at the very least, though that was a miniature war in and of itself.

I don’t know how, but I shall manage it one way or another. I’ve been told I’m quite persistent when it comes to fighting for the things I want. In the meantime, the earliest I am available to see you again is this Tuesday.

Affectionately Yours (in case for some reason you were still doubting that I am in fact yours),

Peggy

Steve smiled at her teasing tone, and he held the letter to his chest, feeling as though his smile would split his mouth in two. Even after weeks of secretly courting and countless letters that had begun even before that, she somehow still managed to make him feel weightless and bashful.

“Steve?”

He turned to find his mother looking at him with an amused smile.

“Is that letter from Miss Carter?”

He cleared his throat and hid the letter behind his back.

“Ma-”

“I only ask because you only ever have that smile on your face when you receive a letter from her. Or when you see her. Or think of her.”

“Ma,” he complained, knowing that a blush was now staining his cheeks.

“I am glad that you’re so happy,” she said with a soft smile. “She seems like a special young woman.”

“She could be the one,” he admitted quietly, still holding the letter gingerly in his hands.

“I know. Which is why you need to ask for her hand before someone else does.”

“ Ma , we hardly know each other -”

“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. Not when you spend so much time in her presence looking as though she has hung the moon itself.”

Steve smiled, then glanced down at the letter, running his fingers over her written words. 

“What is it?” she asked.

“I know in my heart how she feels. But I’m worried that one of these days she’ll wake up and realize that I have nothing to offer her.”

“You have so much to offer, Steve Rogers. You are loyal and kind and hardworking and good . And Miss Carter knows that. I can tell by the way she looks at you, as though you are the first glass of water she’s seen after she has been wading through the desert for years .”

Steve was now certain that his cheeks were redder than the shade of the dress Peggy wore to the Danvers-Rambeau ball.

“You’re describing lust , ma.”

“She also looks at you with love in her eyes,” she continued. “The two are not mutually exclusive.”

“What if she doesn’t say yes?”

“You won’t know until you ask.”

With one last knowing smile, his ma left.

Steve’s next reply to Peggy’s letter was uncharacteristically short, but he was almost certain that had never felt more exposed.

My dearest Peggy,

I have heard from a reliable source that you are available this Tuesday afternoon. If you should be amenable, I would like to ask you for the pleasure and honour of your company at Kingsley Park at 1pm for a walk.

I can provide the chaperone (whom I shall be sure to ask to be less obvious in his eavesdropping than the last time).

Yours (eternally yours),

Steve

My darling Steve,

I am more than amenable to your request. I even dare to say I look forward to it.

Whether you were planning on asking either Mr. or Mr. Barnes-Wilson to be a chaperone is all the same to me as they are both equally terribly obvious in their eavesdropping endeavours. I suggest that they take lessons from Angie. I have only actually caught her eavesdropping once since we first met, though I know her well enough to know that she does it every time she is in the same vicinity as us. I should think that I’ll bring Angie along.

Still, as long as you’re there, that’s all that matters to me.

Yours,

Peggy

Steve checked his watch for what felt like the hundredth time in the last forty-five minutes. Peggy had a habit of being late (especially if she had a commitment with one of her potential suitors prior to their meeting) but she had never been this late. 

Finally, after another quarter of an hour, he let out a breath when he saw Peggy turn the corner, Angie hot behind her.

“You are late,” he said, though he couldn’t help the relief in his voice.

“I know, I apologize,” she said as she reached him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Angie discreetly making herself scarce. “It took me far longer than I thought to detach myself from Mr. Rumlow.”

“Rumlow?” Steve frowned. “He’s worse than your previous suitors combined.”

“I think my mother’s doing it on purpose so that Mr. Thompson will seem the best choice of the lot. I have to admit it’s quite clever.”

Steve gave her a sad smile.

“I’m sorry,” Peggy said immediately. “You don’t need to hear about all of that. I am here with you now and that is the only thing I wish to focus on.”

His offered her his hand. She readily accepted, and he could see her entire body relax.

“I’ve missed you,” he told her softly.

She ducked her head, though he could tell she was smiling.

“And I you, my darling,” she answered.

It still fascinated Steve how her touch managed to fill him with warmth and excitement. He squeezed her hand and ran his thumb along her bare knuckles, still revelling at the sensation. Peggy’s shoulders relaxed further and she looked up at him, her eyes soft.

“Shall we begin our walk?” he asked quietly.

“Not yet,” she whispered. “We’ve no need to rush.”

Steve nodded and stared down at their intertwined hands.

“I wish we could always be like this,” he admitted quietly.

Peggy arched her eyebrow.

“Communicating almost solely through letters? Scrounging for any scraps of time we can manage together while I fend off more and more suitors each week?”

“No,” Steve said fondly as he met her eyes. “I meant holding hands. Having the luxury of simply… being together.”

“Oh,” she responded, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. 

“Now,” Steve said. “Why don’t we take that walk, my dearest?”

“A walk with you and without any dreadful prying eyes? That sounds like a dream.”

Steve grinned and looped their arms together.

They allowed lighter topics fill their conversation as they strolled about. Steve had learned the maze well enough that he vaguely knew where they were headed, but he still held full faith in Peggy to lead them about. She began a harrowing tale from her time at boarding school, waving her free hand enthusiastically as she talked — for emphasis, she always liked to say when he would tease her — and Steve grinned widely at her.

“What?” she asked him when she finally realized that he had been staring.

“I’m simply thinking,” he began, pausing their walk.

“A dangerous pastime,” she teased.

He took a tentative step forward.

“About us.”

“Even more dangerous,” she added, and though her tone was light, he could see the anxiousness in her eyes.

“I love you, Peggy,” he told her, wondering how he was managing to keep his voice so steady. “I love you with everything I am. And I don’t care that your family doesn’t think I’m enough. What I care about is if you do, if you love me too.”

Peggy’s eyes softened, and her mouth slowly turned up into the most brilliant smile.

“Steve, I-”

“ Margaret Carter. ”

“Mother?” Peggy asked, looking horrified as she startled back from him.

Steve’s eyes widened as he turned around and fond none other than Amanda Carter charging toward them, Angie following sheepishly behind. 

“What in Heavens’ name do you think you’re doing?”

“Mother I can explain-”

“You are out here, late into the evening with a man. Have you thought, even for a moment, what people might say? How that might damage your reputation. That is bad enough, but you are not here with just any man, you are here with this-”

“Don’t you dare insult him,” Peggy said angrily before she could continue.

“I put up with a lot from you, Margaret, but this time, you have gone too far.”

“Mrs. Carter,” he tried to interject. “If I may-”

“I don’t want to hear a word from you,” she snapped. “How dare you even think that you’re worthy enough to speak to either of us, or even be in my daughter’s presence.”

“Stop it,” Peggy snapped. “Leave Steve out of this.”

“I shall hear no more of this,” she growled, grabbing Peggy’s arm tightly. “We are going home this instant. And believe me, there will be consequences, Margaret.”

As Amanda dragged her daughter away, Peggy twisted to look back at Steve, her eyes wide and fearful. For his part, Steve could only watch her be dragged off, Angie trailing after them apologetically. 

Steve didn’t hear from Peggy for eight days.

He didn’t catch even a glimpse of her anywhere in town, at Kingsley Park, any of the usual places he could run into her.

She was notoriously absent from Howard Stark’s ball. When Sam and Bucky asked why, he merely shrugged them off and made an excuse that he knew they saw through.

On the fourth day following the incident, he thought he saw Angie in the market with Michael, but they were lost to him in the crowd a moment later. 

On the seventh evening he sat down at his desk and re-read their letters by candlelight. He began writing one to her to tell her how much he missed her, that despite the blow out and the consequences, he hadn’t changed his mind, but realized that even if he sent it, the likelihood that it would reach her was slim to none. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to throw it away, so he folded it and set it at the bottom of the box where her letters to him were kept safe.

The next day, he received a short note in unfamiliar handwriting.

She wants you to meet her at the place it all went wrong. Wednesday at 2pm sharp.

Steve had no doubt who “she” was.

Sure enough, when he arrived where and when the note dictated, he found Peggy pacing back and forth. He let out a small relieved breath and all but ran to close the distance between them, however when she turned around to face him, he paused. Her back was unusually stiff, and her eyes were red-rimmed and shiny.

“Peggy?” he asked softly as he felt a pit grow in his stomach.

She shook her head slightly.

“We don’t have much time. Angie is around the corner as our “chaperone”, and Rose and her mother are distracting my own mother but it won’t be long until she realizes that I’ve escaped. Even then I don’t…”

He took her hands in his when she didn’t continue and pulled her a bit closer.

“What is it?”

“My father is forcing me to marry Jack Thompson,” she said hoarsely.

“What?” he asked, dropping her hands.

“He has officially promised me to him — contracted me to him apparently — and we are to be married by the end of the month. I am fighting him against this but I am not yet of legal age to consent to marry which means I have no rights in this regard.”

Steve swallowed thickly.

“So that’s it then?”

“ No . I don’t want to marry Thompson.”

“It sounds like you have to,” he said flatly.

“I still have time. I can figure something out.”

“And what if you can’t?” he snapped.

Steve didn’t think that her face could fall even more, but he had been wrong. Her lower lip wobbled and she swiftly turned her back to him, though she couldn’t hide the way her shoulders began to shake. Steve quickly stepped around so that he was facing her again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he tentatively brought his hands up to cup her face and wipe away the tears that had escaped her eyes. “I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

Peggy sniffled and shut her eyes, nodding slightly.

“I feel the same, my darling,” she said before opening her eyes. “I don’t want to marry anyone but you, which means that I will find a way to marry you . No one else.”

Steve’s jaw dropped ever so slightly as he realized that though they had been courting for months, this was the first time either of them had brought up the subject of marriage.

“Unless you don’t want to, of course” she added quickly, as though having the same realization.

“Of course I do,” he said immediately, reaching for her hands and holding them tightly. “Peggy, I have been ready to marry you since the day I met you.”

She bit her lip, and Steve could see that she was fighting back a smile.

“Well that’s a bit dramatic,” she murmured.

“Just the way you like me.”

“In fact I love you,” she said softly. “So much that I want to marry you.”

“Then marry me,” he whispered. “Marry me before you marry Thompson.”

She tilted her head curiously.

“Steve what are you saying?”

“Thompson can’t marry you if you’re already married, right?”

“Right,” she said slowly.

“We can elope,” he told her. “We can go to Scotland where your age doesn’t matter. They’ll marry us there, and then we can be husband and wife and we won’t have to worry about Thompson or your parents or anyone else. We can simply be together.”

Steve watched as Peggy worked through his logic, and for the first time since Amanda had discovered them, he saw hope return to her eyes.

“We’d need to leave as soon as possible,” she told him. “My parents are going to force me down the aisle the first possible day they can.”

“Tonight,” he agreed. “Let’s go home and each pack a bag and I can meet you at your home before dawn. We’ll be long gone before the sun rises.”

Peggy shook her head.

“I should meet you at your home instead,” she said. “Less chance of us getting caught. Even if your mother catches us, something tells me she would be far more supportive of us.”

Steve grinned.

“We’re doing this all a bit backwards, wouldn’t you say?”

“That is just the way I like you, Mr. Rogers.”

“Like? Have I been demoted in your heart so rapidly?”

“A lady must always ensure to keep the intrigue in any relationship alive and well,” she cheeked.

“Even if said lady has already agreed to elope with me?”

“Even then,” she grinned.

Steve laughed and squeezed her hands, running his thumbs over her knuckles.

“Steve… I have to go now,” she said ruefully.

“Just one more minute?” he asked, his voice almost timid.

She considered him for a moment before the corners of her mouth turned up shyly. She took a step forward and tentatively wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest.

Steve stopped breathing entirely at the feeling of her pressed against him like this for the first time, though his arms moved of their own accord to hold her close. He shut his eyes and let his nose brush against her hair. He never wanted to leave this moment.

After what could have been 30 seconds or 30 minutes, Peggy reluctantly pulled away.

“I shall see you before dawn, my darling,” she whispered before rushing off.

He caught a glimpse of Angie following her as they snuck out of the garden. Steve could only smile, unable to fully believe what had just happened.

With shaking hands, Peggy quietly shut her suitcase and picked it up. She tiptoed outside her room and along the endless hallways until she finally reached the main stairwell. Normally Peggy would have escaped through her window — as she had done many a time before — but with the extra bag she couldn’t guarantee that she would make it down safely.

“And just where do you think you’re going, Margaret?”

Peggy inhaled sharply and slowly turned around.

“I thought I would take a turn about the garden,” she said lightly. “After being confined to my bedroom for the past few days I’m feeling rather deprived of fresh air.”

“You really expect me to believe that you are planning a turn about the garden while carrying that suitcase?”

“It helps with my posture. And arm strength. All those children I’m going to be giving Mr. Thompson won’t carry themselves, after all.”

“Honestly Margaret,” her mother sighed, and Peggy had never seen Amanda look so resigned. “Will you stop at nothing to ruin my dreams for you?”

Peggy stared incredulously at her, her grip on her suitcase growing tighter.

“That’s the problem, mother, right there. There’s never room for my dreams. Only yours.”

“My dreams for you are for your own good.”

“Oh here we go again-”

“Do you want to live your life poor-”

“There is nothing wrong with not having money-”

“-working ceaselessly for every meal-”

“-honestly mother, you make it seem a death sentence-”

“-and never knowing a day of rest?”

Peggy huffed.

“I’d rather live a life without money alongside the love of my life than marry someone wealthy that I can’t stand and who doesn’t respect me.”

Amanda shook her head but Peggy continued before she could interject.

“I understand that you are trying to do your best to make sure that I am taken care of, but if you would just listen to me for once in your life you would find that-”

A loud thud followed by a scream from upstairs stalled the rest of her sentence. Peggy dropped her suitcase and followed her mother as they rushed toward the noise, only to nearly run straight into one of the maids.

“What’s happened Colleen?” Peggy’s mother asked sharply.

“It’s Mr. Carter. He’s collapsed.”

Dawn came and went, but Peggy never showed up. 

Steve waited and waited, but there was no sign of her. No Peggy, no horse, not even a letter or a note.

Shortly after dawn, his ma had found him sitting dejectedly on the doorstep.

“Steve what are you doing-”

She stopped short when she had noticed the bag by his side.

“Steve?”

“She was supposed to be here before dawn. We were going to elope,” he said in a quiet voice, not taking his eyes off the horizon. “Something must have happened. She must have gotten caught or… or… there has to be a reason she didn’t come. There has to be.”

“Oh Steve,” she said softly.

He shook his head and kept staring out at the distance, as though that might make Peggy appear.

Finally, just as he was ready to go back inside, Mrs. Roberts arrived on horseback, looking wholly out of breath.

“Mr. Rogers!”

“Mrs. Roberts?” he frowned as he stood, making his way toward her.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” she said as she caught her breath.

Steve frowned and helped her off her horse.

“Is everything alright, Mrs. Roberts?”

“It’s about Peggy-”

“Is she hurt?”

“No!” she answered quickly. “Well not physically - what I mean to say is that she is desperately sorry for not meeting you, but her father suffered a heart attack last night.”

Steve inhaled sharply.

“Is he alright?”

“At present they are unsure if he will make it.”

“Oh,” he said numbly as a hurricane of emotions swept through him. "I’m sorry.”

“So am I, for not getting here sooner.”

Steve shook his head.

“I understand.”

Mrs. Roberts gave him a sympathetic look.

“She really did want to meet you.”

“Me too,” he said quietly, trying to ignore the burning sensation forming behind his eyes.

“They were going to what? ” both Winnie and Darlene exclaimed in unison. 

“Elope!” Sarah repeated. “I woke up at my usual hour and found Steve waiting at the doorstep with a bag at his side looking entirely desolate.”

“Miss Carter didn’t go through with it?” Darlene frowned.

“Not by her own choice. This was two nights ago, when Mr. Carter had his heart attack and passed the day after — though the last part was unbeknownst to us at that time.”

“Such a shame,” Winnie frowned.

“I didn’t know you were a fan of Mr. Carter,” Darlene mentioned.

“I meant about Steve and Miss Carter not eloping because of it. To think that they were so close to a happy ending.”

“I wouldn’t count them out just yet,” Sarah countered. “If I know my son, even though his spirits are wounded, he will not accept this as a defeat. Merely a postponement.”

“And what about Miss Carter?” Darlene asked. “I’m not certain how close she was with her father but at the very least this entire ordeal will preoccupy most of her attention for the foreseeable future.”

“I can’t pretend to know what’s going through her mind right now,” Sarah said. “But I know the way she looks at my son, and I know just how extensively she’s written him over the last few weeks. I know that he has been sneaking away at all hours just so that they could court in secret despite her parents’ attempts at setting her up with other, wealthier matches. That all, at the very least, gives me hope for them.”

Once again, Steve was caught in limbo, not knowing what had happened to Peggy, or how she was feeling. He knew from Bucky that Michael and his family were temporarily living with Peggy and their mother while they worked through their father’s affairs, but otherwise had no news of his love for an entire week.

My darling,

I apologize that I have not gotten in touch with you sooner, and I am even more sorry that it has to be by letter and not in person.

I know that Rose was able to pass on the news about my father. While it is the bare minimum, I am glad that she was able to reach you, though I apologize for the delay in sending her to you. I hope you can forgive me, as my mind has been out of sorts as of late.

My mother, brother and I will be travelling north to my aunt’s house this afternoon (the one who lives a few days’ travel out of town) to give my brother a chance to settle some of our father’s affairs out there. I do not know when I will be back, or even when I shall be able to write you again. As it stands I feel as though I am hardly keeping my head above water. I simply wanted to let you know that if you don’t hear from me for the next few weeks it is not because I am actively avoiding you. Far from it.

The only solace this entire ordeal has provided is that I have had some break from the constant threat of being passed off to Jack Thompson.

Still, it breaks my heart that I was unable to make our date, and that we have had to postpone our own happiness in the interim.

I selfishly wish you were by my side right now, holding me as you did the last time I saw you.

All my love,

PC

It took Steve two hours to craft his reply.

My dearest Peggy,

I am very sorry about your father. I know that while you didn’t see eye to eye on most things, you still loved him.

If you need anything, if there is anything I can do for you, no matter how small or ridiculous, please let me know.

Yours ( always yours ) ,

Steve

Somehow it felt simultaneously like it was too much and not enough. He wasn’t even certain that this would reach her before she left, but he mailed it anyway, on the off chance that it would.

He ignored his ma’s knowing sympathetic eyes when he returned that afternoon, knowing he looked nearly as terrible as he felt.

That night, he stayed awake and simply looked out the window, unable to sleep. Unable to think about anything other than her.

Michael sighed softly to himself as he waited for Peggy to arrive at their uncle’s study. The last two weeks had been a whirlwind of finding and perusing old documents, meetings to see exactly how the family’s estate was actually doing and ensure his transition as the head of the family went as smoothly as possible, all the while dealing with his shuttered guilt about not feeling as upset as he should have been at his father’s death. 

It wasn’t that Harrison Carter had been a bad father. More so a disinterested one in Michael’s case. The opposite had been true for Peggy.

She had been the apple of his father’s eye, and though he had never spoken it out loud, he had been jealous, even gutted sometimes. He watched from a distance as he bought her books and taught her how to ride a horse. How he ensured her education would rival his so that she could be well versed in worldly topics.

Then she broke off her engagement to Fred Wells. Truthfully Michael had never been fond of the man, but their parents took this as a personal attack. From that moment something changed. Michael  but all he knew was that It had broken his sister’s heart to fall from his good graces, to be seen as only an object to be passed away to another man. It made her harder, more determined to fight for control of her life. While he was proud of her for asserting her own free will, he wished desperately that she didn’t have to fight so hard, that his parents would come to their senses. Now it was too late.

The knock at the door startled him out of his reverie.

“Come in.”

The door opened and Peggy entered. As she closed the door behind her, he took a moment to take a good look at his sister. Though she was holding herself together quite well, he could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the wrinkles in her dress from where her hands had worried the fabric. A nervous habit that had persisted from when she was a little girl, though she was far from that now.

“Whatever it is you want to discuss, we should be quick,” she told him once she had turned her attention back to him. “Mother shouldn’t be left alone with Aunt Elizabeth for too long, lest we wish them to begin another war over the decoration in the sitting room or heaven forbid the silverware this time around.”

Michael cracked a small smile at that.

“I promise to be quick. Otherwise we shan’t know a moment of peace until we return home,” he sympathized. “How are you?”

“Tired of everyone asking me how I am.”

“That I understand. You’ve undergone a lot these last few weeks.”

“We all have.”

“Yes, but out of everyone in this house, you were the only one who couldn’t make her elopement with a certain blond haired, blue eyed, six foot tall gentleman because of all this.”

Her eyes widened comically, looking around as though there was someone else inside the study who could have possibly heard him.

“You knew?” she hissed.

“I overheard Angie telling Rose to inform Mr. Rogers the reason why you didn’t meet him before dawn. There’s only one reason why you would be meeting him in the dead of night. You were going to run away to Scotland so you could get married without you needing to be twenty one. That way, there would be no possible way that you could be married off to Mr. Thompson, contract or no contract. Our parents might have disowned you when they finally found you, of course, but we both know you don’t care about their money.”

“Michael, you can’t tell mother-”

“I would never,” he promised. “Not when I’ve never seen you happier than when you are in his presence.”

She swallowed thickly.

“I love him, Michael. Mr. Rogers - Steve - is… he’s the only one for me.”

“I know,” Michael smiled. “If I am to be honest, I’ve known since you asked him to dance at the Underwood ball.” 

“Really?”

“The fact that you asked him to dance was telling enough. I know that there is no man on this earth who can measure up to you, Peg, but I have to admit that Mr. Rogers comes close. And I have to admit I found it inspiring how you two didn’t give up, even when you were contracted to Mr. Thompson.”

“Would anything have stopped you from marrying Angie?”

“No,” he smiled. “And while I can’t promise that our mother will ever understand, there is something I can do for your own happiness.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I have something that I think might lift your spirits.”

“No offence, Michael, but at this point in time there’s very little that could do so.”

He merely smiled and handed her the piece of paper that was sitting on the desk. She arched her eyebrow up at him before she looked it over, and he watched as her eyes widened as she read it.

“Michael,” she said quietly, her eyes still glued to the paper in her hands. "Is this a cruel joke?”

“I promise it’s real. As the head of our family now, I have every right to do this.” 

“But… this is - if this is real then that means I can-”

“Yes. You can. At your earliest convenience, even.”

Before he knew what was happening, she had thrown her arms around him and was hugging him tightly.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “ Thank you .”

“Believe me, it’s my pleasure, Peg,” he murmured, holding her tight to him. “You deserve this.”

She pulled away, and for the first time in almost three weeks, Michael saw his sister smile.

“I have to-”

“Do what you must,” he grinned. “And take your time. I’ll cover for you here.”

“Ma, you forgot about the mail here!” Steve called out to his ma as he walked to the drawing room where she was having her late evening tea.

“I suppose I did. Anything interesting?” she asked him.

As he flicked through the letters, a small, handwritten envelope caught his attention and his heart began to thump.

He forgot to answer his ma, putting his entire focus in carefully tearing the letter open despite his shaking hands and reading its contents.

My darling Steve,

I’m writing this letter in a rush but I couldn’t go one more minute without letting you know.

Today Michael took me aside to speak about you and I. More specifically, about the plan we had hatched to marry no matter what my parents had to say.

Before I could defend us, he told me that he’s been secretly rooting for us from the moment we met. How in comparison to Fred, Mr. Thompson, to all other potential suitors, it was clear that you were the only one for me.

He was right about that, of course. 

My brother also reminded me that with my father now having passed away, he is now the official head of our household, and holds all the authority associated with that title. As his first official act, he has found a way to dissolve the agreement that promised me to Jack Thompson, and managed to wipe away any such repercussions that could result from the dissolution.

All this to say that there are no more delays. We can marry as soon as you like, wherever you like. And we do not need to hide.

That is, if you haven’t changed your mind.

I look forward to seeing you again, my darling, and to hearing your answer.

All my love,

Peggy

“Oh my God,” Steve said as he finished reading the letter.

“What is it?” his ma asked curiously.

Steve read the letter again, his mouth forming a grin from ear to ear.

We can marry as soon as you like.

“ Oh my God. ”

“What is it?” his mother prodded again, more impatiently this time.

“I’m marrying Peggy,” he blurted, finally looking up from the small cursive letters.

His mother gasped and rushed over to him. 

“What do you mean you’re marrying Miss Carter?”

Without answering her question and before she could ask any more questions, Steve gave her Peggy’s letter, watching her closely as she read it.

“You’re crying,” he frowned when he saw her eyes fill with tears.

She looked back up at him, a wide smile on her face.

“Well you certainly can’t blame me. Not after everything you two have put me through these last few months,” she teased as she handed him back his letter. He carefully set it on the table beside them. “Here, take this,” she continued, sliding her ring off of her finger and carefully placing it in his hand. 

“Your ring? Ma I can’t take this.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, though the smile on her face diminished its usual sternness.

“This ring once belonged to your great-great-great grandmother. It was given to her by the man she swore up and down was the love of her life,” she told him. “I know that it isn’t much to look at, but it was what he could afford at the time. It has been passed down our family for generations. My mother gave your father this same ring to propose to me with when she saw just how in love we were. And now it belongs to you so that you may give it to the love of your life.”

Steve took a deep breath. He knew just how much this meant.

“Thank you ma,” he whispered, taking one of her hands with his free one. “I-”

The sound of a horse galloping into their front yard interrupted the end of his sentence.

“Who could that be at this hour?” she frowned.

Steve shared a confused look with her before crossing to the window just in time to see an all too familiar figure hop down from a jet black horse.

Peggy.

His mouth burst into a grin and he rushed to the front door and opened it without a second thought. Peggy was looking the most dishevelled he’d ever seen her. Her cheeks were flushed, hair coming undone from her elegant bun, and he could see mud caked along the hem of her dark blue dress.

She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Her eyes caught his and she smiled brightly, rushing to meet him halfway.

They stopped just a foot in front of each other, both of them suddenly frozen in place and breathless.

“Hi,” he said softly.

“Hi,” she smiled in return. “I came back early.”

“I can see that.”

“I sent you a-”

“Letter,” he finished for her. “I just received it. And read it.”

“Oh good.”

“Yes. Good.”

They continued to stare at each other, nothing but sparkling eyes and warm grins shared between them.

Then slowly, before Steve could register that his body was taking action, he sunk down to one knee, his mother’s ring suddenly burning where he still held it in his fist.

“Steve,” Peggy breathed out, and he could see her eyes growing shiny as they both realized what he was about to do.

“I know that you have technically already said yes, but you deserve a proper proposal.”

“ Steve ,” she said again as he showed her the ring.

“It has always been you, Peggy,” he told her, trying to control his breathing as his heart raced wildly. “From the first moment I saw you, my thoughts have been consumed by you. By your intelligence, your humour, your courage. You are present in my mind every moment, and have made a permanent home in my heart. And I risk being even more selfish by asking you to be with me not just in my heart, mind and in my soul, but beside me, your hand in mine, for the rest of our lives. Miss Carter… Peggy Carter… will you do me the highest honour of allowing me to be your husband?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding her head furiously as tears slipped down her cheeks. “Yes of course I’ll marry you, my darling. I wish for nothing more.”

She offered him her hand. He took it delicately and with shaking fingers peeled off her riding glove. Placing the glove in his pocket to keep it safe, he then took her now bare hand and delicately slid the ring onto her finger.

He kissed her hand on the knuckle just above the ring, and didn’t let go of it as he stood.

Steve didn’t want to ever let her go again.

Peggy took a step forward to close some of the distance between them, looking up at him with a wide smile.

The slowly fading light of the afternoon sun was behind her, enveloping Peggy in an angelic halo as her dark brown eyes remained locked in his.

“Is this real?” he asked quietly, suddenly terrified that he’d dreamt this whole thing up.

She gave him a soft smile, and nodded ever so slightly.

“It is, my darling. I promise.”

“Peggy-”

“Kiss me, Steve,” she asked him, her tone low and soft, and dream or not, Steve couldn’t say no. 

Not to her. Not ever.

Steve had imagined his first kiss with Peggy Carter on more than one occasion, but nothing could have prepared him for how soft her lips were, or how warm her body felt against his as her hands found his shoulders and pulled him closer. Their lips moved in a slow but purposeful manner, as though their souls had finally awoken and reminded them that they had done this before, a hundred times in a hundred different ways.

He couldn’t wait to remember all of them.

Eventually, they had to part for air, but he kept his hands on her hips, though he wasn’t quite sure how long ago he’d moved them there. 

She leaned her forehead against his, their breaths mingling.

He opened his eyes when she began shaking slightly in his arms, finding that Peggy was giggling breathlessly.

“Why are you laughing?” he frowned.

“Because I didn’t think this would ever actually happen,” she told him, looking at him with shiny but warm eyes, her thumbs gently stroking his cheekbones. “I dreamed and I hoped but it always seemed just out of reach.”

“Me either,” he confessed, his smile matching hers as he nuzzled their noses together.

“I always had faith.”

They both jumped apart at the new voice, turning to find his mother standing at the doorway of the house.

“Mrs. Rogers,” Peggy greeted her a half-octave higher than her normal speaking voice, taking an appropriate step back from Steve and giving her a curtsey as she approached them.

“None of that now, Miss Carter,” his ma told her Peggy, pulling her in for a tight hug.

Peggy let out a surprised squeak and gave Steve a panicked look. At his nod of encouragement she awkwardly wrapped her arms around the older woman, and Steve’s heart warmed at the sight. He felt something bump his shoulder, and he turned his head to find Jasper’s nose right beside his head. He smiled and petted him as Peggy and his ma hugged, knowing that his heart couldn’t get any more full.

“Forgive my language, but I believe it’s about damn time you two sorted yourselves out properly,” his mother told Peggy when they pulled apart, taking her hands.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Peggy agreed sheepishly. “I truly apologize that I made you both wait so long.”

“Think nothing of it,” his ma answered for them, waving her hand dismissively.

“This is your ring,” Peggy realized as she caught sight of his mother’s now bare left hand. “Mrs. Rogers I can’t possibly-”

“You can and you will. You’re family now.”

“I promise to cherish it,” she assured her, giving her hands a squeeze. “Just as I will cherish and care for your son.”

“I know you will,” his ma smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Now, you are going to stay for dinner tonight so that we may celebrate your engagement. I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Ma,” Steve complained, his cheeks turning pink.

“Miss Carter is going to be my daughter-in-law, Steven,” she chided. “I should think that entitles me to this one dinner at the very least.”

Peggy laughed.

“I would love to stay for dinner,” she accepted, grinning widely. “And not just because I am avoiding the inevitable argument that will fall upon me once I return to my aunt’s house and inform my mother of our engagement.”

His ma laughed softly, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“Well in that case I’ll make sure to feed you well so that you are properly prepared for battle.”

Peggy smiled appreciatively.

“Just wait until Winnie and Darlene hear about this latest development,” his ma gushed as she cupped Peggy’s face. “It’s about time we had another woman in the family. Especially one who can hold her own against our sons.”

“ Ma .”

“Miss Carter should know right here and now what she’s getting herself into. Which reminds me - I’ll have to tell you all about how much trouble this one got into when he was little. There was never a bully he couldn’t walk away from.”

Peggy laughed as Steve’s ears turned red.

“I can take your lovely horse,” his ma continued before he could interject, already reaching for Jasper’s reigns. “Steve, why don’t you show Miss Carter inside and wash up?”

Before either of them could answer her, she was already heading off with Jasper in tow.

“It’s not too late to back out,” Steve half-teased once he was certain his ma couldn’t hear him.

“You are not getting rid of me that easily, love,” she grinned as she took a step forward and confidently wound her arms around his neck. “In fact, I’d say you’re rather stuck with me now.”

Steve grinned as he pulled her closer by her hips, tilting his head down until their lips were almost touching.

“I can’t think of anything I want more.”