Chapter Text
1
When Francesca’s awakened following the waning of her last wave, she was left a puddle of shameful desire as she attempted to catch her breath. She was bathed in a coat of perspiration and her chemise lay a shredded wreck somewhere about the room. When trying to push damp tendrils off her face, her hand caught and she groaned all too sufferingly. She imagined her hair was also beyond salvation.
Atop her breasts lay the waistcoat, surprisingly still somewhat intact if it weren’t for the fang sized holes at the uppermost buttons. The object was devoid of its previous scent, and though she could not smell it, she sensed herself ]oozing from it. She felt a strange sense of pride at making it hers, but mourned the loss of the previous scents. Even when pressed to her nostrils, she could not make anything of it except for knowledge that it was hers.
Scanning her surroundings, she noted that the room was completely devoid of light, save for the golden hue peaking from underneath the door. It must be evening. She pulled her knees to her chest and sighed. If it weren’t for the saturated bedding, she would’ve made haste to leave this room of ignominy, to brush it off as one of life’s trials before making it anew, and ring the staff bell perched above her.
But beneath her was the incontestable evidence of her absence of control. She somehow was able to keep this side of her abay for her nine and ten years on this plane, and yet the second she truly has some autonomy in her life, it is ripped from her grasp before she could truly taste it. Oh, how she wishes she could go back to her time in Bath, away from both societal and biological expectations. Her extended family didn’t pry and would allot her time and space alone, something she was eager to find comfort in as the new Countess Kilmartin.
Francesca was not so ignorant to her new role to ignore the fact that she would not have the luxury of unlimited free time, but she had hoped that being in charge of her own schedule, she would find a balance between her duties as John’s mate, contributing to the estate’s maintenance, and carving time out for her interests. Now, she has ruined what was to be their honeymoon and must find some way to adapt to this disruption.
She made sure to bask in her discomfort, to remind herself of what was at stake if she lost precious control once again. She refused to rise even as the candles died out in the hallways and she crossed one leg over the other to delay her trip to the chamber pot. Francesca forced herself to trace the cracks in the door with her eyes. What she couldn’t bring herself to do, was remember her sinful transgressions against–against those undeserving. If her cruelness wasn’t enough, it was her complete disrespect of the staff that did her in.
She had lived in a family that respected their staff, and treated them–as much as society would allow– as equals. If only her former governess could see her now, she would be disgusted with her, but not with as much contempt that she held her own self to. She would apologize as soon as she was able to. Francesca couldn’t stomach making others, especially those who have resided here longer than her years, uncomfortable or heaven forbid, frightened, with her presence.
When she had deemed herself thoroughly punished for now, she wrapped a sullied sheet around her shoulders, securing it over her chest, before sitting up on her knees and ringing the staff bell as gently as she could. Almost immediately, the sound of a rather large object moving It was time for her life to begin.
After she shyly scrubbed herself clean under the watchful eye of her new lady’s maid, she returned to find the room cleaner than she first found it. The bed was draped in new linens and the food had been replaced. It was only when she saw one of the maids begin to crouch by the side of the bed that she stepped in.
“Excuse me,” she had addressed. “There is no need, I plan to renovate this room and it shall be soiled once again–I’d hate for you to waste your time,” she said kindly.
The maid stood up to her full height. “As you wish, Your Ladyship.”
Francesca held her breath as she passed by, “Please ensure I am not to be disturbed for a moment.”
“Of course,” she curtsied before leaving the room.
She stood frozen for a moment, as if waiting for someone to barge in. When no one did, she crouched down onto the floor, an undignified position for someone of her social standing, and carefully felt under the space. She tried not to cringe at the dust as she mapped the floor, feeling for something out of sorts. When her hand grazed cool glass, she tampered down her rising excitement, and cautiously extracted it. She managed not to spill a single drop and sighed with relief as she brought it to her nose and sighed deeply. The cloying sweet honey scent was not only still present, but even more so, the potent aroma calming her growing nerves greatly.
Quickly looking both ways, she examined her surroundings. Francesca cradled the glass against her chest, the object feeling solid and real, grounding her for reasons unknown. She would have to find a way to keep it safe from prying eyes, who knows what would happen if others caught sight of it. Surely they would wish to steal the sweet ambrosia for themselves.
For now, she would place it in the armoire for safe keeping. She would find a more secure place after she has officially settled in.
***
It went without saying that John was the most patient person Francesca had ever met. He had not only not held any blame for her regarding the situation but admired her braveness for overcoming it. The only noticeable hiccup was her Alpha’s reaction to his and vice versa. When he first entered the newly cleaned room, he had hardly made a full step in before he visibly bristled, his nose twitching in interest before entering.
At his intense scent, Francesca let out a warning growl, fangs elongating, before she had even known. When John’s eyes widened in apprehension, she squeaked and covered her mouth in shame, pricking her finger unknowingly.
“I–I apologize, John.”
He took a step back, hovering at the doorway. “There is no need,” he said softly. “I was told that our inner selves will need to go through a transition period. I suppose I was eager to see how you are fairing.”
She gulped, “I am well, I appreciate your concern.”
“One of my great joys in life is having one to worry over. Do let me know if there is anything I can do to make you comfortable,” John said. Francesca detected restraint in his demeanor and felt horrible. “Speaking of, I was able to speak with the doctor briefly today. She suggested separate rooms for the time being as you become accustomed to this change?”
“You mean to say we shall have separate living chambers?”
“For the time being, yes.”
As much as she enjoyed her solitude, she couldn’t help but feel as though she failed. Their mother had silently championed her marriage with their father as the height of happiness and they shared a bedroom. She knew it was rare in society, but it was normal in their family. Was this a sign of her internal failures? A culmination that John had reached his wits end? Without a week passing by, she had managed to ru–
“Do not fret, dear. Think of it as a second courting as we get to know each other once again. We shall still spend our days together, but I worry that when it comes to…territory that we, or are inner selves, may clash.”
“I see.”
“Please do not take this as a stain on our mating. We are still John and Francesca and we are still in love, that is all that matters.”
Francesca smiled thinly, “Of course, whatever you think is best.”
“What I think,” he began gently. “Is we already have shown reactions to each other that contradict who we truly are. It is not only you who must accumulate, but myself as well. To be frank, I have been attempting to diminish some urges that have begun to intensify with our current situation. I believe with this period, we will not only grow stronger, but respect each other all the more. This is a good thing, Francesca.”
Francesca sighed, “I accept this arrangement, John. I accept it wholeheartedly. My only reservation is us growing apart before we ever had a chance to truly grow together.”
“And that is something you never have to concern yourself with. You are my main priority in this life and nothing will interfere with us, nor our union.”
“Alright,” Francesca forced herself to smile as she normally would. “By the end of this period, we shall become stronger than ever.”
“Oh, it pleases me to hear you say so–”
“Pardon me, My Lord,” a used voice interrupted. “I’ve arrived with Her Ladyship’s luncheon.”
“Of course,” John shuffled out of her way, eyes meeting with the figure on the bed. “I will return after you have eaten, I should update you on the happenings during your incoherence. There is not much to be said, but it would be unfair for you to have gaps of knowledge.”
“Is there anything I should worry about?” Francesca laughed nervously.
“Of course not, I shall mostly prepare you for my dear cousin’s boasting. She assisted briefly and goodness knows she is one to lord it over others.”
Francesca choked on her saliva and the servant rushed to give her the glass of water on the tray. She recovered after a few too many gulps of water, and smiled, tears clinging to her eyes from the outburst.
“Hopefully I was not too much to manage.”
“Never too much,” John promised before smiling and taking his leave. Francesca let out a shaky breath at his departure and tried to calm her nerves.
“Your Ladyship?” The servant questioned.
“Yes?” Francesca said soberly.
“I do not wish to speak out of turn.”
“Please,” she signaled with her hand. “Speak freely.”
“My Lady, your hand!” She gasped. “You are bleeding, I will be back at once with ointment and plaster.” She curtsied quickly before scurrying away. Francesca looked down to see a cut on her finger and a healthy amount of blood oozing out, she had hardly felt it. She gasped at the sight and looked worryingly to the door, waiting for the woman’s return. During moments like these, she wished she was home. Her mother or older siblings would always lick her wounds clean and comfort her until it healed.
A few moments later, the servant returned, this time with a small parcel.
“I apologize for the wait, Your Ladyship.”
“There is no need, I hardly feel a thing.”
“A most good sign, Your Ladyship.” Francesca scrunched her nose as the servant began to unpack her things.
“‘Lady’ is enough. And please speak freely.”
“Of course. Hand please, My Lady.”
“What should I call you?”
“Valera, My Lady.”
“How lovel–” she winced as a damp cloth was pressed to her finger.
“I apologize, My Lady, but it will be over soon,” she soothed. “Once you and our kind Earl have mated, these kinds of things will not be necessary.”
“Yes,” she agreed.
“You know, my youngest presented just the other month. Poor thing was terrified, but like we all must during hard times, he got through it,” Valera said as she cleaned the small wound. “That is the way.”
“W-What did he…”
“An Alpha, My Lady.”
“Ah.”
“What I mean to say is, though it seems terribly hard, especially given the impromptuness, you will get through it. In a year’s time, this will all be behind you.”
“One can only hope. Thank you for your kindness.” Valera carefully added a substance to a piece of plaster and as it met her skin the cooling effect took almost immediately. “My word,” Francesca gasped. “That is remarkable.”
Valera smiled, “Family recipe, My Lady.”
“How wonderful.”
Valera secured the plaster onto her finger. “There,” she said kindly. “It should heal soon.”
“By any chance,” Francesca started. “Do you have something in your arsenal that would assist this transformation? In terms of dealing?”
“I’m not so sure, My Lady.” Valera glanced away. “Any assistance would not help in the long run, one must learn to deal with and take control of their instincts alone.”
“Please, just for today? I am having trouble…adjusting. Everything is heightened, I cannot even stand the close scent of my mate, something I once adored, without feeling as though he is challenging me.”
Valera looked at her sympathetically and stood to her full height. She quickly cleaned up her belongings and Francesca began to worry if she overstepped.
“I will be back momentarily, My Lady.” Valera said, curtsying shallowly, before exiting the room.
Francesca worried her lip and fiddled with her fingers atop her lap. The first thing she would need to do is reign in her emotions. They feel so much more than what she typically allows. It felt as though she was a basin constantly on the precipice of overflowing.
Valera returned, this time hovering in the doorway, mimicking John’s earlier actions. She held the knot of a jute bag between her hands.
“May I shut the door, My Lady?” Valera asked, voice hushed.
“Of course.”
Valera gently shut the door behind her and placed the sack on top of her chaise lounge. Francesca clenched a fist, fighting off the need to remove the foreign object from it. Valera ruffled through the sack, finally taking out a sealed jar filled with a green substance. She held it up for Francesca to get a clear view of it.
“This,” she unscrewed the lid. “Is a salve. It will help.”
“What is it? What does it do?” Francesca asked, wide-eyed.
“It is crushed mint, eucalyptus, and aloe.” Valera approached her side of the bed. “If rubbed under your nose, to the point of nondetection, it will conceal almost all scents.”
“I have never heard of such a thing,” Francesca said in awe.
“I am not surprised that you haven’t, My Lady,” she held the jar in front of Francesca, who carefully took it into her uninjured hand. “It is a somewhat well kept secret amongst the working class. Like anyone else, we do not possess the qualities to not befall to our instincts when they are greatly tested. Think house staff, doctors, valets, farmers, vicars, laundry maids, and other professions. We are so often exposed to the unregulated scents and behaviors of those we serve, so this salve here is a means to an end.”
“How fascinating,” she said, shifting the jar here and there to better inspect it. “I feel ashamed to have never considered how other classes go through their own growing pains.”
“It is outside of your realm, My Lady.” Francesca nodded in understanding, but still made a note to go beyond regarding her interactions with the staff.
“How much of this am I to use?”
“Just the length of your fingernail, My Lady.”
Francesca dipped the tip of her finger into the salve and carefully placed it under her nose. She rubbed it in until it had melted into her skin and inhaled deeply. Like magic, Valera’s subtle scent vanished completely and Francesca gasped in shock. Even the stubbornly lingering bit of John’s scent had disappeared.
“This is amazing,” she stared down at the jar in wonder. “And no one else knows of this?"
“Just the servants, My Lady, and I hope it remains as such.”
“Of course. Thank you for entrusting me with this, it will not leave these walls, I swear it.” Francesca held the jar up to her, confused when Valera did not take it.
“As I'm sure you're well aware, we animals rely on our instincts. They give us information on how to react in certain situations, and it shows not be abused."
"I understand."
"Very well, i you believe it will benefit you, you may keep it.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You may keep the salve.”
“Absolutely not, I cannot accept this.”
“Think of it as an olive branch. If I am still able to speak freely,” she paused, waiting for Francesca’s signal. “I rather like you, you are not at all what I was expecting.”
“I am sure that after my outburst, no one else thinks the same.”
“Though I cannot speak on the sentiment of all the staff, I will say that we are a non-judgmental bunch. We understand life and all of its nuances, and out of character behaviors are not exempt from this,” she hands Francesca the lid. “I insist that you keep this. I have jars upon jars waiting for me at my own residence.”
Francesca, rendered speechless, accepted the lid.
“I thank you for your kindness. Truly.”
“Your welcome, My Lady. You are deserving of every last bit of it.” Francesca smiled tearfully. “Oh, enough of that,” she chided. “There is plenty of the day left to be lived, I suggest you begin with your luncheon.”
“Yes,” Francesca said, sniffling. “Yes, of course. Would you like to join me, there is far too much for just me.”
“Another time, maybe. I have neglected my duties for far too long, My Lady.”
Francesca nodded, “I understand. What are your other duties if you do not mind me asking?”
“Of course not. I assist wherever I am needed. Currently, I am giving the cook a hand with the menu for tonight, and later I shall take a sizable part in the presentation of tonight’s feast. We are preparing everything in the English style tonight, and since I am the most experienced in that aspect, I will be taking charge,” she said diplomatically. “Though primarily I am the lady’s maid of the Mistress Stirling, though if she were to have it her way, she would rather me doing anything else. A stubborn one, that one is,” she said in fond exasperation.
“I would not know,” Francesca said politely.
“Trust you will soon enough,” she laughed. “I shall leave you to your luncheon, good day, My Lady,” she said, taking the sack and curtsying at the door.
***
At the suggestion of John, Francesca was supervising the transport of her belongings to her new bedchamber when she was joined by another.
“You know, I was the one who picked your room. I expect thanks for that,” a warm voice teased. “There were oh so many to choose from, I wanted to lessen the burden.”
Francesca almost lost her footing, her shoulders raising in surprise.
“Oh, did I startle you? I suppose I have my height to thank for that, or lack thereof. It doesn’t allow much to prepare oneself for. One second I’m here, the next I’m not,” she giggled to herself.
Francesca turned to her side slowly to face John’s cousin, to face Michaela. Francesca had just finished speaking to John about her shameful actions. She had tried to block most of what she could remember, and she was doing so very well until she was so detailedly reminded of the way she conducted herself. For the sake of her wellbeing, she had to cut him off when he began to relay something about growling to the point of madness. But hearing of your sins did not begin to remotely compare to seeing its representation right in front of you, giggling.
Bravely, Francesca looked down to meet her eyes, and God, was that a mistake. Her eyes were dancing across Francesca’s face, as if she was narrowing down which part was deserving of her attention. Her plush lips were slightly parted and Francesca wondered what words were hanging on the end of her tongue. Her cheeks had a bit of rouge on them, making her seem all the more alive and real. Her captivating ringlets of curls were pulled up into an updo, locks still managing to escape adding onto her beguiling appearance. Framing her face were coiffed curls that seemed to dance with her every move.
There was not a hint of discomfort on her face, though it definitely should be present, and she held herself with her chin held high, yet her posture was relaxed. Francesca was at a loss of what to say. She would begin something resembling an introduction, just for her tongue to freeze and her lips remaining open. Her cheeks were burning with every failed attempt and she was sure if there were any circuses near they’d take her in on the spot. That would be better than having the verbal intellect of an infant and the countenance of a wobbling deer.
“Are you alright? Should I call for John?” She asked, concerned, stepping closer.
“I-I’m quite fine,” she managed, almost putting her hands out to convey just how fine she was.
“I imagine you are still coming back to yourself.”
“Yes.”
“Ah, that explains it.”
Francesca took a deep breath, “Mistress Stirling please let me offer my apologies for my behavior.”
Michaela waved her hand dismissively, “Do not exhaust yourself, there is no need. If there was something to forgive, which there is not, it is already forgiven.
“Please–”
“It is not necessary, I assure you.”
“Then please let me gather my bearings and offer my unnecessary apologies.”
Michaela sighed, “As you wish”
“That day, I soured what was meant to be our first introduction. I forgot myself, I should not have–”
“It was not in your control, surely you do not hold the power to prevent Mother Nature’s doings.”
“Of course not, but even so, my lack of control was irreparable and inexcusable. My only vow is that it will never happen again, I will not allow it to,” she looked down, honed in on the way the wrinkles of Michaela’s skirt hadn’t been pressed properly. She interlocked her fingers bruisingly, placing them just above her navel. She was in control. “I truly thank you for your vigilance. It was not your burden to bear, but nonetheless, you put yourself in harm’s way out of respect and what I assume is your love for John. Your kindness,” she took a quick breath. “It will not be forgotten, Mistress Stirling.”
“You speak too highly of me, there was a bookshelf, a plethora of servants between, and a door between us. I did not do anything remarkable.”
“But you did,” Francesca stressed. “Somehow you were able to get past my mental state, and you managed to pull me back to Earth. That is not something I take lightly. Please, at the very least, let me declare how much I am indebted to you. I don’t recall much but from what I heard you turned something terrifying to something safe, without you I am not sure I would be coherent during this moment in time.” Michaela opened her mouth to rebut. “Forgive me, but I will not accept anything else save for your forgiveness or malice.”
“If you do require it in order to move on, then I forgive you. Sincerely.”
“Thank you–”
“Only if you forgive me.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I will forgive you if you forgive me.” She says matter-of-factly.
“I apologize, I’m confused on what there is to forgive on my end.”
“So we do have something in common,” she smiled primly. “For a moment I was worried. I am seeking your forgiveness for using my Omegan nature against you while you were in an incognizant state.”
Francesca slightly pouted her lips in bafflement. “I do not understand. There was nothing else to do, of course I do not hold you responsible for taking necessary action.”
“But you expect me to hold you responsible for what you had no control over?” Michaela tilted her head. “I’m afraid we are at a standstill.”
“No we are not,” Francesca said tightly, an anxious smile serving as her armor. “They are not comparable.”
“I would disagree. You were in such a state that no one in this estate would hold it against you. On the other hand, I was in possession of all my mental facilities and consciously made the choice to manipulate you into obedience and yet,” Michaela took a step forward, brow furrowing when Francesca took one back. “You wish to claim all responsibility. Tell me, how does that work?”
Francesca tried to think of a counter argument, but she could not form one, especially not when she was faced with a demanding force. Francesca opened her mouth just to close it again, resolve weakening.
“I’ll take your silence as an answer. So, there we have it,” she smiled, the apples of her cheeks pushing into her eyes, clearly proud. “I will forgive you for your barely conscious behavior if you forgive me for taking the action I deemed necessary without your prior consent.”
Francesca stood silently as she stared down at the other. With a countless amount of people in the house growing up, she knew when she lost an argument and to accept defeat.
“I forgive you for doing what was necessary,” she said begrudgingly.
“And I, you,” Michaela smiled, clearly satisfied. “I believe that went swimmingly, wouldn’t you agree?"
“I would agree, Mistress Stirling.” Francesca said with false benevolence, trying to reign in her fervor.
“I assure you,” Michaela took another step forward, eyeing the distance Francesca insisted on creating. “You mustn’t be afraid of me as I am unafraid of you. Please, call me by my name, we are family.”
“Of course,” Francesca agreed, worrying her lip. “And you are to call me by my name as well.” Michaela gazed upon her expectantly, almost challenging, and Francesca took an undetectable step back once more. Michaela pretended to not notice. “I will keep that in mind, M–,” her breath quivered and she cleared her throat. “I shall let you go now. I bid you adieu.”
Michaela smiled charmingly, “I shall see you soon, Francesca.”
Francesca walked away swiftly without sparing a passing glance behind her until she was back in the dreaded room and pressed herself against the closed door. Holding her palm to her chest, she tried to catch her breath, her corset all of the sudden feeling more constrained than usual. She initially struggled in removing her bodice but was able to do so without screaming into the void, and pulled loose the bottom lace until her corset fell down to her waist.
Now a puddle on the floor, Francesca hugged her knees to her chest, the sacred cup that she couldn’t seek comfort in to her side, and tried to compose herself before she faced the rest of the day.
Across the estate, Michaela pressed her trusted balm to the bottom of her nose, still dizzy from the standoff.