Chapter Text
You may not have known who John Shelby was, but when you were invited for the wedding through your best friend, you didn't hesitate to go. A wedding was a wedding, after all, and you loved them. The getting pretty, the dress, the vows, the ceremony of the mingling blood, the food, the dancing... Oh, the dancing!
You were more jaded than your sisters by far, as you were the oldest, and still unwed in your twenties, but that didn't deter you from the topic of love. When you saw the looks the couple gave each other during the ceremony, and the tension in the air was tight-strung, it was easy to deduce this wasn't a marriage of love. But it could be, you told yourself. There is all the time in the world for love to blossom. Weddings were so beautiful, and you watched as the ceremony turned into the party. Helping the other women with serving drinks and food, the time flew by.
"I just love weddings," sighed one of the Shelby's to you, a young woman, as you handed her a drink.
"Me too," you responded, politely, not expecting further conversation. The way she looked at you made you halt.
"Are you married? I see no ring." Before you could answer, she downed the drink in one go, and continued. "I am. We got married in secret. He said I looked like an angel..."
"He's lucky to have you, in secret or not," you responded.
A worried frown crossed her face. "My brothers hate him. Or; they'd rather have him not be part of the family."
"Why is that?"
She shook her head, refilled her own glass and took a good drink. "And now they're marrying John off to solve some political dispute I'm sure. They never tell us women anything, do they?"
She needed to vent, you let her speak.
"I wore the most beautiful dress... Matching white lacquered shoes... It was-" She interrupted herself to finish her drink.
As she went for the bottle, you stopped her. "Love, not so quick. Maybe have a dance, first. If your love ain't here, there's a dozen handsome men willing to stand in, I'm sure."
Her eyes turned fierce as you held onto the bottle, not handing it over to her. "You can't refuse me. Do you know who I am? I'm a Shelby."
A man stepped closer, hands in his pockets. "I thought you were a Thorne, now."
That was how you met Thomas Shelby.
Just like Ada, her brother Thomas was used to getting what he wanted. A little later on in the evening, the sun had set, you topped off his glass. He stopped you from moving on to the next empty glass, with the flick of his fingers, gesturing to the empty seat next to him. The smoke from his cigarette curled upwards, to the bare night sky.
"Sit. Join me." His words were spoken softly, but with an authoritative edge that made you do as he said, more curious than anything.
"Mr. Shelby, right?" you asked, with an eyebrow raised.
He set his glass down on the table, took the bottle of whiskey from him, plucked an empty glass from the table, and poured it neatly half full. He handed it to you. The drink was cold against your palm. "A toast. To the newlyweds." He didn't even really smile, but you clinked your glass against his and took a sip.
"To the newlyweds, may their union be one blessed with joy and laughter."
Thomas brought the cigarette to his lips, and the two of you simply sat, staring at the other. It felt like he noticed a great deal about you, from the way you wore your hair, how you fidgeted with your lace cardigan, to how you suppressed your wince at the sharpness of the drink. He was breathtaking in the flickering light of the campfire nearby, it danced over his face, highlighting the sharpness of his features. Yet his lips were plump, and you tore your eyes away before you could get any ideas.
"Cigarette?" he asked, already finding the case in his jacket pocket. He lit your cigarette for you like a gentleman and the drag you took was perhaps the first time you breathed properly in his company. "You're not a Lee I know. Are you a friend of the family? Recently married into it?"
"A friend, as of yet unmarried," you say, eyes dancing over his handsome face. Laughter sounds as the music takes a more upbeat turn. "If I'm no longer doing the whiskey rounds, I'd like to dance. It's a wedding after all. Will you join me, Mr. Shelby?"
He laughed softly, rubbing his face with his free hand. "Well, why don't we, hm?" And he stood up to follow after you.
You hadn't expected to see Thomas again, not at all. It felt like a magical night, one of few in your life. One you had to make count, somehow. That's why you dared press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, before making off to your wagon at the edge of the Lees territory. Yet you did, as you followed your brother into an unsuspecting pub in Birmingham. It was by a street with factories, and workers did their work. It smelt of burnt coal and ashes.
The pub was a welcome change in temperature, as it was cold outside. Your brother, Edwin, was here on some business or the other, and you came with him purely to have a change of scenery. Or rather, that is what you'd tell anyone who asked. Rather, as the oldest, you felt you needed to keep an eye on him, to make sure he didn't get in any trouble he couldn't handle. He was rather prone to that after dad died, but it was no matter to consider, as the two of you entered the pub. It smelled of smoke, stale drink, and of wood varnish. It was after dinner, so the pub was gradually filling up with patrons, their chatter a comforting sound.
"Thank you for coming. In here," said the man you were meeting, Arthur, and he lead you to a room to the side, shutting the door behind you. Another younger man was already seated, a toothpick pressed between his lips. Another man stood to the side, leaning against the wall, and you startled as recognition hit you.
"Mr. Shelby," you greeted, nodding. "Pleasure to run into you again."
Edwin sent you a look, one that meant 'we will discuss this later', so you immediately straightened your attitude to betray no memory of that night. Thomas sent you a fond nod, and you quickly averted your eyes to avoid staring. Yet your heart leapt in your chest - what a chance to see the intruiging man from the wedding again!
"Have a seat," Arthur said, as he sat down himself. Edwin and you took a booth seat. You nodded politely to the younger one. A barmaid, blonde, came in and set down glasses in front of each of you, and left a bottle on the table. Arthur rubbed his hands. "Let's talk business, then. About those prize horses..."
Their talk and their deal went well, but you found your mind wandering off, your gaze drawn by Thomas' chiselled features. He looked harsher today, in this light, more serious. Perhaps he was softened by the wedding, by being off the clock, last time. Yet, the weight of his gaze bore down on you as the meeting went on.
When the hands were shaken, and the deal was made, his smooth voice shook you from your thoughts.
"Let me get you a drink," he mumbled, too low for your brother who was still talking with Arthur, to hear. He lead you to the bar, where a barman with a white tea towel over his shoulder was wiping glasses clean. The young women from before tended tables. "Whiskey?"
At this point, you'd agree to anything, so you nod. He ordered for you, and he clinked his glass against yours much like that first time.
"What are we toasting to?" you asked.
He looked around, leading you to a quieter corner of the pub with a hand on the small of your back, half a smile tugging at his lips. "Those beautiful racing horses you're selling to us."
"Family business," you grimace as the whiskey burns its way down your throat. Tommy nodded, deft fingers finding the cigarette case in his jacket pocket, he offered you one, before pressing one between his own lips. The flame from the match sizzles as he struck it, and you inhale sharply.
"So, this is Birmingham." you concluded, a bit of a tease. "The factories seem busy, is it like that every day?"
He nodded, regarding you with the patience of a large cat. "Every day. I like the noise, keeps the mind silent. And you, what do you do? Sell horses?"
"I take care of the horses. Edwin sells them." You fiddled with the cigarette, tapping off the ashes. "Sometimes he lets me come along to vet if the people will take good care of them. Just based on feeling, though. I'll only see the stables when we bring them over."
Tommy put the matchbox back in his pocket, leaning forward. "You wanna see the stables? Come on, I'll show you."
In hindsight, you weren't sure what made you follow him unquestioningly - out of the pub, with as little as a wave to Edwin. Your brother grabbed your arm.
"Where d'you think you're headed, girl?"
Tommy answered for you. "I'm showing 'er the horses, so she can rest easy knowing we take good care of 'em."
A short silence fell, the authoritative stare Tommy gave Edwin hung like tension in the air. It felt like he was challenging him, and Edwin didn't protest again when Tommy led you out of the pub.
It was a bit of a walk, and Tommy kept a steady pace. You two chatted idly, about the city, about growing up Roma, about how John and his new wife were doing. Then, you arrived just outside the city, where the stables were, right next to the train tracks.
"Do the trains not startle the horses?" you question, as you look around the place. It all seemed pretty good. The smell of hay and of horse hits your nose, a familiar and comforting smell. Stepping inside of the stables, a large black horse (a Frisian?) greeted the pair of you. "What a beauty," you say breathlessly.
"Trains're only in twice a day. Horses get used to it fast. They're smart beasts." He reached out to pet the nose of the animal. "This one is Monaghan Boy. Quite the race winner."
He seemed proud and something swelled in your chest. "He's so big."
"Wanna ride him?"
You shook your head. "Not today," you laughed, and he smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m not winning any races today,” you joke. As you reached out your hand to let the horse smell you, another man entered the barn.
"Tommy, what are you doin' out here?" He said gruffly, before he noticed you. His voice softened. "Oh, and a young lady, hello."
"Uncle Charlie," Tommy said, jovially, "This is y/n, her and her brother are selling us some horses. She wanted to make sure they'll be well taken care off. Y/n, this is the man who takes care of the horses for us."
Charlie smiled. His face was drawn by years of hard work in the open air, and perhaps by war, you thought as you shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Charlie. I look forward to a good partnership from now on."
"Then I'll leave you two it," he said, with another look between the two of you. Monaghan Boy neighed in agreement. He left, leaving the two of you alone again.
"What are you thinking? Up to your standards?" Tommy asked, teasing undertone resting in his deep voice. He walks closer, until he's next to you, next to the big beast. His cologne smells delightful.
You nodded. "Better than I expected, especially for the city. I mean, look at this one," you say full of awe, as Monoghan Boy allows you to slide your hand over his mane. Thomas mimicked your movement, letting his hand rest on yours, intertwining your fingers.
You turned to him, finding him caging you in against Monaghan Boy's flank.
"Perhaps there's something else you'd rather do than ride a horse, out here?" he whispered, just before his lips touch yours.
“I can think of a thing or two,” and you wrap your arms around his neck.