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There’s a part of Nell that almost can’t bring herself to keep walking forward.
Cobblestone fades to dirt beneath the soles of her boots, the town’s modest buildings are replaced by the trees and thick foliage off the beaten path, and when she nears the same clearing she’s stood in hundreds of times before, she has half a mind to turn right around.
It would be so simple to do.
She could head in the same direction she’d come from, like she’d never even shown up at all. She could pretend that letting go for the last time should be easier than this, except—
“Nell.”
That’s when she sees a familiar flash of brunette hair that she’s secretly both hoped for and dreaded, followed by gentle blue eyes that quickly find her own from beneath one of Broadwater Hall’s large perimeter stone archways.
No going back now.
Nell slows her pace as Sofia draws closer, watching as the hem of her long skirt drifts out and around her before ultimately lurching to a halt when she stops just short of where Nell has. Her expression is filled with a relief that Nell now feels guilty having almost denied her of, and her words are tinged with a hint of grateful astonishment.
“You came.”
“I wasn’t so sure I would,” Nell admits. “Almost changed my mind ’bout five times.”
Sofia nods slowly, and offers Nell the slightest shadow of a smile. “I know.”
Of course.
Of course she does.
Sofia knows Nell better than anyone else ever has. Better than anyone else ever will.
Yesterday’s carefully shared glance in the middle of town never could have been enough of a goodbye, though—not when it hadn’t been anything more than an ill-timed coincidence, with Nell riding out on the tail end of an errand for the Talbot and Sofia being ushered from an elaborate carriage into an equally as ornate shop, all while the world had rushed by unaware of the way theirs had stilled.
Hazel eyes had met blue amid the chaos of the afternoon, with a reserved upturned corner of lips, and the most minuscule of waves.
Cryptic and discreet. Small and calculated.
And truly, how could anything so shallow ever touch the depths of the most significant two years of Nell’s life?
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here.”
Sofia’s quiet musing draws Nell back to reality, and she takes in the sight of the woman before her: standing tall in black and white, brunette curls tied loosely to the side, hands lightly clasped together in front of her. Her fingers fidget ever so subtly, the only sign of her slight uncertainty.
She isn’t wearing her engagement ring.
“Well,” Nell says, turning her head to the ground momentarily and scuffing one boot into the dirt. Her long red hair falls into her line of vision. “It’s what we do, after all. Ain’t it?”
Every Friday.
Every Friday evening for months, Nell has met Sofia here, in this very spot hidden behind Broadwater, after a mere acquaintanceship from a chance encounter on tangled paths during a ride had led to something neither of them had ever expected. First an unlikely friendship, and then so much more.
Hushed meetings gave way to talking for hours below the stars.
Conversation grew to a connection deeper than any Nell had ever before experienced.
Connection turned to feelings, and feelings to longing, and longing to confession.
Their time together became a whirlwind of covertly laced fingers, stolen kisses, and hours spent tucked away in Broadwater’s stables when it was cold—Nell never daring to venture home after until she saw the small flicker of a candle in Sofia’s window to signify that she’d snuck back inside without trouble. Safe. No one would ever find out about them, because no one ever could.
“It is. It is what we do. But everything is changing after today.”
When Nell looks up again, there’s the beginning of a frown on Sofia’s soft features, subtle yet telling. She wants to reach out, and take her hand, and press her lips to that downturned curve until they both forget about the pain.
But she doesn’t.
“It was always gonna be this way, Sof. We both knew that.”
This relationship they’ve harbored in secret had never been meant to last, and they’d talked about it many times. Not only could they never fit in among society’s overbearing standards, but Sofia had also been well upfront with Nell from the beginning. Her father would have her matched with the first wealthy man he saw fit, as soon as the opportunity presented itself, and Sofia would have no say in the matter.
The course of her life would be charted out for her without so much as a second thought to anything she cared about, and neither of them would be able to change that.
They had both known.
Nell had known.
And even still, nothing could have prepared her for when the inevitable had turned her world upside down, or for how solemnly Sofia had told her, or for how numb she had felt when it had all happened for a second time—blindsided on a mid July evening—
“They’re moving it up, Nell.”
“What?”
(She’d heard, but it had barely registered.)
“The date. It’s not October anymore. They’re moving it up.”
“To when?”
“Three weeks from today.”
(It wasn’t enough time. It could never be enough time.)
“Oh.”
And so, the chill of autumn had taken hold before August had even begun.
“I just wish you wouldn’t go.”
Sofia’s voice is nearly as quiet as the rustling of the bright green leaves on the trees around them. Memories are blurring with reality, but Nell could never forget where she is. Or when.
“You know I can’t stay.” Nell says. “You’re gettin’ married tomorrow, and I can’t be there for that. I can’t—”
It’s Sofia who caves first.
She silences Nell with a feather light brush of her thumb against her cheek. It’s kind, and it’s warm, and then she steps forward and places a gentle kiss there in its place.
Nell relishes every moment of it.
“You’re one to talk, though,” Sofia says as she pulls away. “Aren’t you.”
She moves back to place the same arm’s length amount of distance between them as there had been before, but her blue eyes are calm, and her words hold no bitterness. There’s not one ounce of accusation or anger, because they’d already had their time for that. The statement is no more than a mere observation, spoken as softly as the ghost of her touch that still lingers.
“It’s fake,” Nell says. She knows she doesn’t need to repeat it, but maybe hearing it aloud again won’t make it seem so wrong. “The whole marriage. All of it. Hell, I even bought the damn wedding ring. It was part of the deal.”
That had been Nell’s brilliant plan, after all.
To run.
If she couldn’t be with Sofia when the time came, then she couldn’t stay in Tottenham without her.
It had never been meant to involve anything so complicated as leaving with someone else, and it had absolutely never been meant to require faking a marriage to pull it all off. But the more Nell worked to piece the whole thing together, the more she realized that getting as far away as she needed wouldn’t be possible alone, simply because in the eyes of society, she was nothing but an eighteen year old single woman.
Captain Jackson was her ticket out.
A soldier passing through town for a few weeks in the right place at the right time, they’d struck up a conversation one night when he stopped into the Talbot. Two drinks in and she just wanted to get the weight off her chest—telling him she wanted to leave, with the reason why tumbling out shortly after, and little did she know he would understand in a way she never expected. He’d been in a very similar place before, too.
He told her all about the army. About how far they’d traveled, and where they were heading, and how he could take her with him. He said they could make the arrangement work, because if she truly wanted a way out of Tottenham, he would be willing to help.
A brilliant plan.
That’s what Nell keeps calling it.
But even though the distance is what she knows she’ll need, it’s never really felt that way. Not when she first told Sofia, and not today, where they stand together in the consequences of their own decisions, and every decision that has ever been made for them.
“You bought the ring yourself?”
Sofia’s question is half curiosity, half surprise.
“I did,” Nell says. There won’t actually be a wedding, but they’ll have to make it look that way. “I thought I was askin’ too much of him as it was, so I told him I’d pay for it. Went out to a shop, made up a story, and convinced ’em to sell one to me. But I barely have enough saved up for anything as it is, so it sure ain’t fancy. Not that fancy’s even something I’d ever want…”
Sofia actually smiles at that. “Gaudy wouldn’t suit you, love.”
Love.
Nell’s breath catches in her throat at the term of endearment. She hasn’t heard it in weeks, and it renders her a bit speechless.
“Can I see it?” Sofia asks, in the absence of a reply. “If you have it with you, that is.”
Nell nods her head until she can find her words again.
“Yeah.”
It’s in part because Nell is worried her family might find it before she tells them she’s leaving, and in part because she’s been known to misplace even the most important of items, but she’s been carrying it around since she got it. The simple ring sits so weightlessly in the right side pocket of her breeches that she’d barely even notice it if not for all of the overwhelming implications tied to its presence.
Smooth metal meets Nell’s fingers when she reaches for it, and she turns it over twice before removing it from her pocket. She situates it in her palm, and holds it out open flat between them as if it’s some kind of closure. Some kind of sign that this is really how everything ends.
But as Sofia glances to the plain gold band that shines in the fading sunlight, Nell’s head begins to spin with impossible thoughts.
Visions of everything that could, yet could never be cloud her mind. Glimpses of a future destined only for fantasy blind her to caution.
They spur her forward, turning her recklessly impulsive, and with her heart hammering in her chest, Nell reaches out to take Sofia’s left hand gently in her own. Sofia draws in a quiet breath as Nell raises it from her side, but she doesn’t pull away, and Nell slides the ring slowly onto her finger.
It’s a little bit loose.
A bit of an odd fit—but it’s still close.
It’s so close to perfect.
“This is how I wish it could be, Sof.” Nell’s eyes meet wide blue with only the utmost of sincerity. “If it weren’t for tomorrow.”
Sofia holds Nell’s gaze for what feels like an eternity before a flash of something not unlike stubbornness replaces her surprise.
“Tomorrow isn’t here yet,” she says decidedly, lacing their fingers together. And with a gentle tug, she pulls Nell even closer towards her—intently, but reserved enough that Nell can step back again if she chooses to. “We still have tonight, if you want it.”
Sofia’s offered proposal sparks every ounce of undeniable affection anew. Everything that Nell has ever felt for Sofia, and everything that she has tried so desperately to suppress…
There’s no more holding it in.
“I do,” Nell breathes. “I do.”
Sofia kisses her properly this time.
Soft lips against Nell’s own, bodies pressed close, fingers tangled in loose red waves.
Nell lets her hands wander higher too, fiddling with the tie holding Sofia’s hair in place until the thin cord falls to the ground and they’re both engulfed in a curtain of fiery orange and deep, endless brown so dark it could be black. Sofia melts into her touch when Nell traces patterns along the side of her neck, and in her effort to memorize all that she can before everything slips away, Nell dips her head to place a light kiss there instead.
And then from Sofia’s neck, it’s her jaw.
And from her jaw, it’s her chin.
And then her cheek.
And then her nose.
And then her forehead.
And then—
“Nell.”
Sofia’s quiet murmur draws Nell out of her trance. She pulls away, and Sofia fixes her with the most serious of looks.
“Yeah?”
“You’ll come home safe. Won’t you?”
Nell takes in a breath.
“I…”
She tries to reply, but she trails off as abruptly as she starts, realizing belatedly that with so many factors, she doesn’t actually have an answer. She’s never before given much thought to coming home.
Not to how, or when, or even if.
“Come home safe,” Sofia states, firmly this time, as if she’s making the choice for her. “And I promise, I’ll find my way back to you again.”
Hope clashes with doubt in Nell’s mind, and she struggles to let herself fully believe what she hears.
“How can you be so sure you’ll be able to?”
“Because I am,” Sofia insists, her fondly adored stubborn streak just barely hidden by the warmth in her expression. “I promise.”
And from somewhere just beyond Broadwater, Nell can hear a church bell toll in a series of low, even chimes.
They drift through the air as a distant echo that ends today and calls the fate of tomorrow, but tonight—god, tonight—the sun sets with colors that swirl around them in gentle pastel hues.
The breeze dances through Sofia’s soft curls, and her eyes shine brighter than a glittering sea, and Nell thinks that if she can remember her just like this, in exactly this way, then maybe she’ll make it through every long tomorrow until that promise rings true.