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John Shelby bounced his youngest child in his arms as he sneered at the cavalry across the church. Esme did her best to keep the rest of the kids in line as the music played for Grace to enter.
“Here comes the fucking Calvary,” John spat. “Late as fucking usual.”
Grace's family turned their sneers from Preacher Jeremiah to look upon their darling Grace. The wedding was quick, the tension thick. Tommy's side cheered as they were married, while Grace's family barely clapped.
“Pictures, then off to Arrow House for the reception,” John muttered. “There's a kitchen meeting for us men, so I'll be a bit late to the social part.”
“I'll get our children handed to the sitter for the night and find you,” Esme said as she gave him a peck on the lips and took their child from his arms. “First night out since birth, you owe me a dance, Mr. Shelby.”
John smiled softly at his wife, but his eyes wandered to Grace's family as they dispersed from the church pews.
“If you do as much as make eyes at one of those women, I'll cut those Shelby blues out myself, John,” Esme growled.
“No eyes for any but my dear wife,” John said condescendingly. “Even if I'd love to pluck the calvary’s women from them for sport.”
“I'll pluck something,” Esme muttered as John kissed her forehead and they moved to the front steps for photos.
After the pictures, John and Esme handed the children off to their maid, kisses and hugs all around, before they took the car to Arrow House.
“Find Pol and try to make nice,” John said as he chewed on a toothpick. “I'll find you after Tommy has this meeting.”
“What even is it for?” Esme scowled. “It's a bloody wedding reception, what can he possibly hold a meeting for?”
“To keep things civil, I imagine,” John sneered. “The fucking Calvary already started making swipes just by fucking wearing their uniforms.”
John parked the car and stepped out, making his way to Esme's door to let her out. Esme stepped onto the damp, soft ground, thankful she had worn flats rather than fashionable heels. Better to dance with.
John smiled as Esme placed her hand on his chest and pecked his lips. She looked up at him with her big brown eyes, soft-like.
“Look at another woman in front of me again and I'll cut your fucking smile from your face, John Shelby,” she whispered before giving him another kiss.
“It's the hormones talking, love,” he chuffed and patted her ass as she turned to go inside. “There's no other skirt I want up but yours.”
Inside Arrow House was buzzing with life. House staff moved through the attendees, handing out alcohol glasses and appetizers while the band set up.
John slapped Isaiah's back as he nodded to Esme and disappeared to the kitchen.
“So many fucking people,” Esme muttered under her breath as she grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing maid and downed it in a blink. “Here we fucking go.”
Esme fought through the crowd, looking for a familiar face. None of the Peaky men were around, most likely at Tommy's meeting, so she searched the women. Stuffy faces, old and young, surrounded her. Lee girls flirted with cavalry, pickpocketing slyly before moving on. Some of the youth came from the trains, not invited but promised a good time. She finally saw Ada, preaching politics to an older woman from Grace's side that looked rather uncomfortable.
Polly was drinking beyond that, talking to an unfamiliar man. Polly's crooked smile faltered as she saw Esme's eyes on her, sending a small headshake that told Esme to stay away. Esme sighed.
“Care to dance?” A deep voice broke her attention.
She turned to see a man roughly around her age with a thick mustache in a glaring red uniform. Her lips pressed together in a thin line as she looked at his outstretched hand like a viper.
“Well at least give me a little conversation,” the man said as his hand retreated, scratching the back of his head. “Name is Frank. What's yours?”
“Esme,” she said, eyeing him. “Why are you talking to a dirty gypsy, Frank?”
Frank pinked at the question and chewed on his tongue. He sighed as he scanned the room behind her.
“Truth is, Esme,” he exhaled as his hands dropped back to his side. “My wife is cheating on me with a general, and I was hoping talking to you might put dirt on her face, like she's done mine. If you'd be so inclined to a dance, I'd like to snub her before her glare kills me dead.”
“Well,” Esme said as she bit her lip and scanned the room. “You're in luck, Frank. My family is busy and my husband is probably getting piss drunk. You've got one dance to prove you aren't as much of a git as your uniform implies.”
Frank took her hand in a flash, spinning her with a smile as he moved her around the room. Esme noticed a few Lee girls gave her a look, but she smiled at the stuffy calvary woman who sneered as they danced around.
“She’s over there, in the blue dress, talking to her lover,” he said lowly as he pulled Esme too close for comfort. “I'm going to dip you in front of her.”
Esme saw the flash of anger in his eyes as his smile didn't reach the top half of his face and his hands clung to her a little too roughly. Esme flinched as he dipped her, his hands slowly moving to less respectable places. Their faces were so close she could breathe his air.
“Right,” she breathed. “I think that's enough dancing for me.”
She tried to break from him but he grabbed her wrist to pull her back.
“What's one more dance between new family?” He said between gritted teeth. “I insist.”
His wife smirked beside her lover as Esme did her best to scramble from Frank as he squeezed her ass.
“I didn't bloody marry you lot,” Esme whispered as she tried to shrug him off. “I'm done now, Frank. Fuck off.”
Esme looked behind Frank and her eyes widened as she saw Isaiah and Finn pushing each other as they walked into the room, laughing. Finn noticed her, bumping Isaiah and pointing.
“One more dance, gypsy,” Frank said as he yanked her again. “If she's this green from a dance, maybe I should bed you in the coat closet.”
Esme turned and connected her palm to his nose quickly. Frank let go with a curse as he grabbed his face.
“You little-”
“Ah, there's my loving wife,” John said as he wrapped an arm around Esme's waist, twisting her away from Frank. His smile turned into a clenched jaw as turned back to face Frank.
“Problem, copper? Or just thought you'd harass my wife for fun?”
“This little bitch hit my nose,” Frank spat.
“And what'd you do to earn that, huh?” John spat back as he stood forehead to forehead with Frank. “I'll show you what Shelby blood can do to a useless cavalry git.”
Esme grabbed John's arm.
“Tommy said peace,” she hissed. “Let's go, John.”
Esme tugged and John relented, letting her take him away as he spit his toothpick at Frank’s face.
“See you around,” John said as he flashed a smile that more closely resembled a snarl.
John let Esme lead him to another room, watching the other man until he was out of view.
“What the fuck was that, Esme?” John growled as his hands encircled her hips. “I'm gone for all of thirty minutes and you're cornered by calvary scum. And you talk of cutting me.”
Esme held his face before placing a soft kiss on his lips.
“They're all gits,” she murmured against his lips. “I want you.”
“Damn right you do,” John smiled before kissing her again.
“Dance with me?” She asked, biting her lip.
The band switched to a slower number, echoing through the house across all the rooms. John took her hand in his and began to sway.
“One before they sit us for dinner,” John said softly as he kissed her fingers. The chaos around them bled away until all they saw was each other.
Frank and his wife sat across the table from John and Esme. John did his best to make the most insulting jokes, acting dumb as if he didn't realize they would take offense between downing his drinks to be drunk. Frank's wife glared at Esme the entire time. Frank turned increasingly deeper shades of purple as the night went on.
“What do you call an animal with a prick up his back?” John swallowed the last of his whiskey and slammed the glass down. “A calvary horse! You get it, right? He gets it.”
Ada prattled on about political movements. Polly seemed to be flirting with multiple men. Arthur was nervous. And Tommy seemed elsewhere in his head, always scanning the party. When dinner ended and the dancing began again, Esme sighed as Arthur immediately clasped John's shoulder.
“Business, brother,” Arthur said. “Tommy wants us.”
John nodded as he kissed Esme's hand.
“Be good,” he said. “Find Pol or something. I'll return for that dance.”
Esme turned to find all the Shelby women preoccupied. She hesitantly made her way to the gaggle of Lee girls.
“Oy,” John hit Isaiah's chest as he passed him. “Watch Esme. Keep her entertained if need be. There's a calvary asshole sniffing around and Tommy said no fighting. If I catch him grabbing her again, I'm cutting his fucking hand off.”
Isaiah flashed a smile and a nod, ending his conversation with some pretty thing as he moved around the room to get a better eye on Esme.
She was talking to the Lee girls, quietly sipping a drink and blending into the wall. He saw her look around the room and nervously shift her stance as her eyes shot to the floor. He looked to the last place she looked to see a dark haired cavalry man cutting through the crowd straight for her.
Isaiah appeared out of nowhere in front of Esme, hand extended.
“I know I'm no Shelby, but I'll dance with you,” Isaiah hummed, flashing his boyish smile.
Esme smiled, looking relieved.
“Isaiah, right?” She said as she took his hand and he whisked her away from the wall. “The preacher’s son?”
“Aye,” he laughed, winking at the Lee ladies before turning his attention to Esme in his arms. “Preacher's son, peaky blinder, and loverboy in training now you've taken John off the table. Someone's got to fill the role he's left.”
“I'm sure you'll do just fine,” Esme laughed as he twirled her and brought her back to his arms. “All my cousins and sisters look like they want to eat you up already. You're wasting your talents on a married woman.”
“I'm practicing on a bloody legend is what I'm doing,” Isaiah smiled as he pulled her close. “The woman to marry John Shelby and turn him into a respectable family man. Must have witchcraft or bloody magic between your legs.”
Isaiah's cheeks pinked as he realized what he said.
“With all respect, ma'am,” he said quickly.
Esme laughed a big belly laugh, her head falling back before she hid her face in his shoulder.
“You, Isaiah Jesus,” Esme said as she collected herself. “Are certainly going to break a few hearts. I've got a sister that could give you a run for your money.”
Isaiah quickened their steps, spinning her to the other side of the room with ease.
“Point her out,” he smiled. “If she's half the woman you are, I'll be in love by the morning.”
Finn stopped their dance abruptly as he grabbed Isaiah's shoulder.
“Tommy's opening up betting for the men,” he said, winded. “We're to send the men to the garden for horse racing. He said he's making a fighting ring, Peaky versus calvary, if a soul is brave enough.”
Isaiah nodded, his smile fading. He kissed Esme's hand as he let her go.
“Maybe another time, then,” he said with a wink. “Thank you for the dance.”
He looked over her shoulder as he pressed his lips together.
“I've got to invite your problem out back.”
Esme nodded quietly as the boys left to invite calvary men outside. She turned to watch them, seeing Isaiah patting Frank's shoulder, pointing to the door as he talked. Frank glared at Esme, but Isaiah tapped his chin, pointing back to the door. He nodded with a scowl and left.
Soon, Arrow House was filled with women and half-asleep old men. A few younger men were around, but most were strangers that came by train.
Esme grabbed a drink from a passing maid and returned to the Lee women. She was immediately bombarded with questions about Isaiah. She smiled, answering the giggling women.
“There's only so long a horse race will entertain the men, Tommy,” Arthur said. “What are we to do after?”
“I don't fucking care, keep them away while I do business,” Tommy growled. “A fine night they chose to start all this.”
“We can start a fighting ring,” John said calmly. “Cavalry and Peaky. Take bets on who taps out first.”
“Do it,” Tommy said, pointing at John. “Whoever is in the ring better fucking win. We can't let those bastards hold that over us all night.”
John nodded, fighting a smile. “On it.”
“Off you go, then.” Tommy said as he walked away from his brothers.
Arthur wrapped his arm around his little brother.
“What boy are we putting in the ring?” Arthur asked. “Finn’s racing and too weak to fight anyway. Isaiah? He's small but scrappy. We could bill him as an underdog.”
“I've got a better idea,” John said, eyes glittering in the low light of the fire. “Put me in. I've been drinking all fucking night. Play me off as too drunk. I let the git get a few good hits in, and then I fucking kill him.”
Arthur chuckled, pulling his brother closer.
“How do we pick the cavalry bloke?” Arthur asked. “I'll send Isaiah over to talk him into it while Johnny tries to talk him out of it.”
“I've got just the man.”
“Who among us will start this ring, eh?” Johnny called to the 50 men packed in the back garden. “Who's feeling strong tonight?”
John leaned on Arthur, all but pulling him to the ground, and raised his hand high.
“I'll fucking punch a calvary man,” he called, laughing. “Hell, bring me two.”
He pushed off his brother and stumbled toward Johnny, falling to the ground as Johnny Dogs twisted out of his hands. The group of men laughed as John sat on the grass.
“Do ye cavalry men have a contender?” Johnny called. “I'll wager a pence against the man on the ground. Surely someone can keep him down there.”
There were a few men looking around at each other, waiting to see who stepped up first. John nodded to Finn before standing up shakily. Finn reached two of the younger men, holding them back as John stumbled toward a dark mustache wearing a red uniform.
“Fucking fight me,” John said as he stood forehead to forehead with Frank, breathing whiskey in his face. “Fight me or I'll fuck your wife.”
Frank's dark eyes glittered at the threat as his jaw ticked.
“I believe I was closer to fucking your wife than you were mine,” Frank said calmly, earning a chorus of laughter.
“I don't have to try,” John laughed. “She'll hop on anything that's not as stuffy as you, Frank Burgess. Burgess sounds like a fucking princess, doesn't it? Are you a fucking princess, Frank?”
“Debenham,” Frank growled. “From Grace's mother's side.”
“Are we fighting or not, Frank Debenham?” John asked calmly.
“I might enjoy this,” Frank said.
Finn grabbed Frank and John's wrists and threw them in the air, erupting applause from the other men. He led them to the circle created by a rope taken from the barn. Candles and torches lit up the area as best it could. The fire bounced off Frank and John's faces, creating expressions that were not there.
“Shirts off, boys,” Johnny yelled as he took bets. “Don't want to bloody up those pretty suits before going back to the ladies.”
“The rules are there aren't any rules,” Finn said roughly, standing between John and Frank as they unbuttoned their shirts and tossed them to the side. “Tap out before you die. No cheap shots.”
The men nodded and Frank immediately reached for John to pull him closer. John swayed out of his reach before sending a warning jab. The men danced around each other as the crowd jeered. Frank swung wide to hit John in the ear. John leaned into it, falling to the ground, where Frank kicked him once, twice, three times in the ribs.
John grabbed Frank's foot and twisted, making the man fall to the ground. He scrambled for a head lock, punching Frank in the nose repeatedly.
“Fucking cavalry,” John muttered. “Let's pretty that face for you.”
Frank flailed, his fist catching John's nose. They broke apart with curses, scrambling to stand and face each other again.
They swapped punches for a while, sparring while they looked for an opening. John swayed, spitting blood from his mouth at Frank's feet.
Frank grabbed at John's head, pulling him close to land another punch in his gut. John danced behind Frank to land a punch in his kidneys before spinning around him to land another punch in Frank's ear, sending him off kilter as John landed another punch directly in his face. John put Frank in a headlock, punching Frank until he started to go limp.
“Give it up,” John growled. “You won't win against a Blinder.”
“Give,” Frank coughed. “I give. You win.”
John released him, arm still around his shoulders when a woman screamed.
Esme came running toward the circle. Isaiah and Johnny held her back as Frank smiled wide, punching John in the gut until he doubled over. Frank stood up and walked away, leaving John on the ground gasping.
Esme ran to John, cupping his face in her hands as she assessed his bloody face.
“Oh John,” she sighed, tears threatening to spill. “You stupid git. I just wanted a dance.”
“It's okay, Esme,” John sniffed as he wiped the blood from his lip. “I'm okay. You'll get your dance, love.”
“And me, I've got a name. Tomorrow, I'll have an address. Then, he'll have a bomb in his fucking letter box.”
“John,” Esme whispered as she touched his bare shoulder.
He looked up at her, a faint bloody smile appearing as he patted her hand on his shoulder.
“Don't fuck with the peaky blinders.”