Chapter Text
There were many things about Rupert Campbell-Black that were known as pure fact. He was attractive, charismatic, intelligent and very persuasive. He was a loyal friend to those he considered worthy, preferred the company of animals over people, and was disgustingly wealthy. None of this was surprising to anyone. However, what was surprising, was that even in his 40’s, Rupert Campbell-Black was still discovering new things about himself. One of those things being, that he was a cuddler. But not with just anyone. Only with his darling fiancé Taggie. She too was another surprise no one had seen coming. Falling asleep with his body slotted against her’s was the only effective sleep remedy Rupert had ever come across. Her soft breathing and sleepy sighs the only lullaby that had ever soothed him enough into slumber.
What Rupert had quickly realised, was that laying in bed with Taggie was one of the few places he felt truly safe enough to relax. There was no performance or opponent to face. Even in bed with other women, it felt like being in the arena. The back and forth, trying to beat your opponent at being more alluring, more impressive. Competing to meet their expectations and challenge them to meet yours. He always had to have his guard up, which left little room for sleep. But with Taggie, it was different. It was intimacy without intimidation. It was connection without performance. It was vulnerability without fear. They explored, they enjoyed, the rested. They felt safe. With Taggie’s body finally healed from her accident, holding her close and drifting into slumber, finally came naturally.
It was with instinct, that when his dreams were interrupted, his body automatically reached across the bed for her. Only to find her missing. Rupert grunted in disapproval as he lifted his ruffled head off the pillow. Opening his eyes, he was disappointed to be met with a solitary pillow. No Taggie.
“Tag?” He called out before holding his breath. He listened for signs of her. Of her washing her hands in the bathroom. For her fussing over Gertrude after she had had a “bad dream.” Rupert had tried to explain to her several times that Gertrude did not have bad dreams - she was just jealous of Taggie’s shared attention. The loyal pup would whine at the bottom of the bed until Taggie crept away with her in arms, for secret treats on the kitchen floor. However on this occasion, Gertrude was happily wrapped up in the warmth of Beaver in their bed under the window. No mistress in sight. Then he heard it. A light hum of a melody followed by the gentle clacking of a saucepan lid. Rupert squinted at the alarm clock. 3:27 in the morning. He sighed and breathed in the light aroma of something sweet. “Uh oh.” He said to himself.
Wrapped in his dressing robe, Rupert thumped down the stairs and followed the light into the kitchen. Taggie was barefoot, long legs exposed and only cut off by one of his old jumpers. It fell mid thigh and was far too large for her. She had rolled up the sleeves around her elbows and piled her hair on top of her head. The radio was on. Playing quiet melodies only just about audible over the sound of her movements. She had her back to him as she washed up a large bowl and wooden spoon. “Angel?” Taggie jumped, dropping the spoon into the sink and splashing soapy suds into the air.
“Jesus!” She cried, before placing her soaked hand against her chest to still her racing heart. Rupert couldn’t help but chuckle. He loved the flush across her cheeks that appeared when she was taken off guard.
“Easy mistake to make, but just me.” He quipped as he began closing the distance between them. Taggie smiled at him but shook her head, her eyes warning him she would get her revenge later. He hoped it was a promise.
She took a heavy sigh as he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck.
“Did the music wake you?” She asked apologetically, staying in Rupert’s embrace but reaching for a towel to dry her hands.
“It was the smell of something inviting wafting up the staircase.” Rupert explained, stepping away to lift the lid off the sauce pan. He looked down to see bubbling red and purple, along with the scent of raspberries and sugar forming into jam. Taggie’s love for cooking was well known across Rutshire, but only a few knew about her secret habit of “stress baking.” If Rupert had awoken to the smell of warm spices and herbs, he would have chuckled and gone back to bed. Knowing inspiration must have hit Taggie in the night and couldn’t wait. But the sweet scent of sugar was a strong alarm bell. Someone or something had bothered her. “You’re stress baking again.” He observed before replacing the lid on the sauce pan once more.
“There is no such thing.” She argued moving to the window sill. A dark chocolate sponge sat patiently for its jammy companion.
“I thought so too, until you began baking after every bad dream and messy phone call from your sister.” Taggie rolled her eyes and pressed her fingertips lightly on the sponge. It was still a little too warm for jam and cream, but cool enough to slice. “Are you going to make me guess?” Taggie rolled her eyes and moved to pull out a knife from the kitchen draw. “Caitlyn get another detention? Another job for the rich and unreasonable?”
“You’re the rich and unreasonable.” She jibed, carefully pressing the knifed blade into the side of the cake.
“Declan?” Rupert guessed, ignoring her sarcasm. Taggie’s eyes shifted slightly, from the deep dark sponge to the sparkling emerald and diamonds currently sitting on her ring finger. “Ah.” Rupert nodded, noticing her subtle movements.
“Don’t say it like that.” She complained and returned her focus to the job at hand.
“Have you changed your mind about telling him tomorrow? Well today.” He corrected, nodding to the kitchen clock.
“I don’t know.” Taggie mumbled, the knife now settled down on the counter, coated in small chocolatey crumbs.
“Tag, we’ve avoided him for almost a month! I’m amazed he hasn’t just turned up on the doorstep and beaten the door down!”
“You’re being melod…d…dramatic”
“Word of the day?” Rupert smiled amusingly.
“Word of yesterday.” Taggie corrected, nodding back to the clock.
“Tag,” Rupert sighed before holding her sagging shoulder in his hands and moving her away from the cake. “I’ve told you already. He knew I was going to propose. He gave his blessing… well in his own Declan way. ‘Don’t fuck it up.’ Was close enough I guess.” Taggie shook her head at his poor Irish accent, but quickly lost her sense of humour.
“And you’re sure he didn’t think you were joking? He might not have actually believed you meant it.”
“Angel, there was no joking about it. You were in a hospital bed and neither of us knew for certain that you would be okay.” Taggie’s frown deepened.
“You never told me that bit before.”
“Does it matter?” Rupert shrugged. “What matters is, he may not like it, but he has accepted that I love you. And you, for some very silly reason, love me. He knew I was going to ask you to marry me. He didn’t try to stop it. He didn’t argue with me.”
“That doesn’t mean he’ll be happy when he finds out you actually did it! When I walk into the Priory with a ring on my finger!” Rupert sighed defeated, his palms sliding down from Taggie’s shoulders and back to his sides. He was tired and they had been having this conversation over and over again for weeks. That was another surprise he hadn’t seen coming. Taggie had taken after her father with her stubbornness. With his withdrawal, guilt washed over Taggie. Most women would be screaming it from the roof tops. “Rupert Campbell-Black chose me! I’m going to be his bride!” But not everyone had her family to deal with. Not everyone had had to face the hurdles they had, just to be together. She raised her palm and stroked the left side of his face. His well sculpted face that had been on the receiving end of her father’s aggression far too many times. “I just don’t want you to get punched again.” She said with a sly smile. To her relief Rupert grabbed her hand and turned his head to kiss her palm.
“I don’t mind. My darling wife can kiss it better.”
“I’m not your wife yet.” She reminded him.
“Well then I better lock you up and throw away the key until we can rectify that situation. Not having you run out on me O’Hara.”
“I would never.” She whispered, stepping closer until their bodies met and her lips were just millimetres away from his. Rupert wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, keeping her close and unable to run away.
“Then let’s get this meeting over with and just tell everyone. Then we can finally get married and I never have to risk loosing you again.” He leaned down and closed the aching distance that was remaining between them. Their sleepy kisses naturally finding their rhythm and growing into long caresses of lips against lips. Taggie sighed with a sleepy and happy moan as they parted. Looking to the table with the cake waiting to be filled, she sighed.
“I’ll finish it tomorrow.” She replied to Rupert’s unspoken concern. Rupert smiled and nodded proudly, releasing his tight grip on her waist and letting her retreat to tidy everything away. Under her strict instructions, he poured the jam into a glass jar through a muslim cloth. Apparently the Hampshire’s had the nerve to request seedless jam for the next Venturer meeting. Rupert bit his tongue. Taggie didn’t like awkward confrontation. Rarely did she thank him for lecturer their teammates for not thanking her enough for her catering service. Her free catering service, he liked to remind them.
With the kitchen clean and ingredients tidied away, Rupert pulled Taggie’s hand to drag her away from the kitchen. But just as she was about to switch off the lights, they heard a little snuffle and whimper at their feet. Looking down Taggie saw Gertrude looking up at them with wide and sad eyes.
“Oh no,” Taggie said motherly, crouching down to her pup. “Did you have a bad dream again Gertie?”
“For fucks sake.” Rupert groaned under his breath. Pulling Taggie away from the kitchen in pursuit of a good night’s sleep was hard enough. Now he had to pull her away from Gertrude’s needy attention.“Dog’s don’t have bad dreams Tag.” He tried to convince her whilst pinching the bridge of his nose.
“You don’t know that for a fact! Go get the bag of treats from the pantry.” Rupert obeyed reluctantly, walking into the pantry before feeling something soft brush against his leg. Looking down he saw a very sad looking Beaver, mimicking the wines and postures of Gertrude.
“Not you as well?” He asked with a sense of betrayal. “You O’Hara’s are bad influences.” Rupert announced, walking out of the pantry with dog treats in hand and Beaver close behind.
“Well it’s a good job you’re turning me into a Campbell-Black then, isn’t it?” Taggie teased, her eyes still on fussing the scruffy mutt on the floor. Rupert chuckled, silently thanking the Gods that they had convinced Taggie to accept his proposal.
Taggie stifled back a yawn.
“Right,” Rupert declared, deciding enough was enough, he began walking out of the kitchen. He switched off the lights, leaving Dogs and Mistress in darkness without any comforting treats for bad dreams. “If you want your treats, you need to shepherd mummy into bed!” He shouted over his shoulder. Taggie laughed playfully but the dogs leaped into action. Pushing Taggie’s hands away and nudging her to her feet. They barked until her feet began to move and walked out of the kitchen.
“Fine! I’m moving!” She laughed as they ushered her up the staircase.
.
.
As Taggie stepped out of the car, Rupert caught her eyes repeatedly darting to her ring.
“Do you want to take it off?” He asked in a quiet sigh, shutting the car door.
“What?” Taggie frowned, fingers twiddling with the delicate gold on her finger.
“Just until we’ve told them.” Rupert nodded down to her hand. Taggie looked at him with wide eyes filled with guilt. Guilt at being caught and being relieved at his offering. “It’s okay.” He chuckled, rounding the car to stand before her. He held her soft fidgeting hands in his and with careful fingertips, pulled the ring off her finger. “It just means I get to propose to you all over again in a couple hours.” Taggie laughed nervously.
“I have an idea.” From under her jumper, she pulled out her necklace. Unclasping the back before retrieving the ring from Rupert. She slid the ring along the chain and held it up proudly. “Help me?” She asked. Like the dutiful husband he hoped to become, Rupert lay her necklace against her delicate throat, the ring settled comfortably against her heart. Clasping the necklace securely together again, he leaned down and pressed at sweet kiss to the back of her neck.
“This doesn’t mean you’re a free woman.” He warned playfully. “I don’t want to find you in the pantry with the likes of Henry Hampshire or Enid Spinks.”
“Oh darn,” She smiled slyly, turning back to stare at him through dark fluttering eyelashes. “There goes my cunning plan.”
“Oh really?” Rupert challenged, sliding his hand around her waist and pulling her close. His hand fell from her lower back and cupped her buttocks through her sturdy jeans. “Let me remind you, you’re marrying a furiously jealous man.” He whispered before capturing her lips with his own. Squealing with delight at the tight sensation of Rupert’s hand on her arse, Taggie melted into the kiss, the outer world forgotten.
“Jesus Rupe! Put her down for 10 minutes!” Jumping apart from one another, Taggie and Rupert turned their heads towards the Priory, seeing Bas leaning in the door frame with a lit cigarette hanging from his lips.
“Shut up, Bas.” Rupert rolled his eyes, but the smile and transferred strawberry lip balm remained plastered on his mouth. Taggie blushed, tucking her necklace into her jumper and thanking God it wasn’t her father.
Everyone had gathered in the kitchen. Taggie felt relieved to see it still had the warm messy touches of a family kitchen well used. Although, instead of hearty stews and roast dinners, she suspected the kitchen hob was mainly used for heating up cans of baked beans and soups. Taggie looked around the kitchen, spotting Cameron sitting beside her father. The moment she saw her father’s bushy moustache, Taggie felt her stomach twist in knots, and a heavy weight hanging from her neck.
“I forgot the cake.” She said, quickly turning before crashing straight into Rupert’s stomach.
“Whoah!” He laughed, “it’s fine Angel, I’ll get it. Go say hello to you father.” He retreated before Taggie could even argue.
“Tag!” She heard her father call, followed by the excited scraping of his chair. She turned to see his arms already extended wide, inviting her in for a strong hug.
“Hi Daddy.” She smiled, accepting the hug fully, and praying Declan wouldn’t somehow feel the ring around her neck.
“God, it’s been ages! How you feeling?”
“Good,” she reassured him, retreating from the hug and smiling at him with a hot and blushing face.
“You’ve got some colour back. That’s good. That waste of money been looking after you?”
“Hello to you too, Declan.” Rupert returned, holding a polka-dot cake tin in hand. Freddie quickly joined the conversation at the realisation of baked goods. “
“Gentlemen, please. Let’s keep it civil. At least until after pudding. Hiya Tag, luv. How you feeling?”
“Better, thanks Freddie. I made a chocolate sponge with raspberry jam and cream.”
“Homemade Jam?”
“Always.” Freddie laughed with his rosey nose and bright cheeks. Somehow making her forget the reason she was so nervous to begin with.
“Can we start the meeting please?” Cameron called over the festive welcomes with a cold frustrated tone. “We have a large agenda!”
“I’ve got a large agenda.” Rupert whispered into Taggie’s neck. She blushed and nudged him away with her elbow.
“Behave.” She whispered. Rupert anchored his palms onto her hips and gently guided her towards Lizzie. Taggie dared a glance in Cameron’s direction, who in turn was only just averting her gaze away from Rupert’s hands on her waist.
Around half an hour later, much to Cameron’s expressed annoyance, everyone was finally seated and ready for the meeting. Somehow Taggie had been dragged into making teas and drinks for everyone, promising to dish out cake once they got through everything on Cameron’s list. Cameron bit her tongue until it bled, waiting for everyone to stop asking Taggie and Rupert the same questions over and over again.
- How are you feeling?
- It must be lovely living in Penscombe? Quite a change from The Priory!
- Has Rupert been taking care of you?
- No really, has he been taking care of you?
- This is quite a change for you hey Rupert?
Eventually the nosey probing came to an end, everyone was matched with their beverage of choice and work could no longer be avoided. Taggie struggled to keep up with all the announcements of investors, money, marketing and figures. But her ears pricked up at the last item on the agenda.
“We need a space. As lovely as it is having you gather around my kitchen table, it tells the likes of Lady Gosling that we’re not a serious company. Corrinium have offices, studios, dressing rooms. A sodding car park! To be taken serious, we need a hub.” Declan spoke with his colourful Irish accent.
“We have three possible venues. We need to pick one that reflects us as a business, will be operational and practical. And is affordable long term!” Cameron’s serious and business woman stare went across the flashy spenders of the group - Rupert, Freddie and Bas. Freddie shifted uncomfortably, Bas and Rupert just shrugged with smug grins.
“What are our options?” Enid asked with her polished accent.
“First, an abandoned ware house that we could convert into a working studio.” Cameron began handing out stapled booklets, showing their options in bold colours and surrounded with sharp and close together text. Taggie didn’t both reading the words, focusing more on the pictures. Rupert made a mental note to ask Declan to tell Cameron to use a different font next time.
The warehouse was old but sturdy, made from brick and with arched windows neatly lined up along the walls. Large industrial double doors, that went from floor to ceiling, were the proud protective entrance of the building. They were sage green and beginning to rust. The large chimneys thrusting from the roof reminded Taggie of her fathers cigarettes neatly lined up in their packaging. There was space for cars and vans outside and the inside was spacious! There were smaller buildings around the sides in a similar empty state. It was a nice and simple base, full of potential and good space. Taggie looked around, fighting the flutter in her chest as Rupert leaned back in his chair with his sturdy frown across his brow.
“Ambitious space. Sends a good message, converting something old into something new. Shows boldness. But it’ll need a lot of renovation. Could mean delays and extra spending.” He spoke with authority, crossing his legs and brooding towards the paper. Taggie wanted to snatch it away from his large palms and sit in his lap, to have all of his intense attention on her again. Jesus, what was he doing to her? Being jealous of a building! But it was a nice building. She liked the large windows and could imagine them all around a long and large table, eating together communally after a long day of work or celebrating someones birthday.
“Rupert’s right,” Declan said reluctantly, “it could be a financial risk. It wasn’t built for technical set ups. But there’s history there. It connects to the roots of Rutshire. Something we can bring back to life. Isn’t that what we’re all about?”
Freddie began shaking his head.
“I’ve got seen quite a few building like this with my company already. Yes the space is large and its very romantic, but the acoustics would be poor. We’d spend half our budget on repairs and updates to make it remotely useable for TV.”
“So, it represents us a little too well.” Bas chuckled into his drink. “A romantic idea, but a massive risk and most likely a financial failure.”
“Not helping.” Cameron sighed, turning the page in her booklet. “Okay next one.”
Everyone turned their pages quickly. Taggie gently flipped her paper, feeling sorry for the old building and hoping someone would find use for it one day. She quickly set her eyes onto a large towering office building. It was squeezed between two slightly shorter buildings with yellow bricks and lots of narrow windows. This building had pink bricks and stood our unapologetically. Beside it were pictures of white office cubicles and breakout rooms. It reminded her of walking the halls of Corinium when she ran to try and pull Rupert away from the interview with her father.
“Well at least we wouldn’t have to fork out for new heating systems.” Bas shrugged, running his finger along the words.
“It’s more practical.” Declan nodded. “Sensible.”
“it’s very… beige.” Lizzie mumbled into her coffee.
“It looks like Corinium” Taggie spoke candidly. She looked up, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on her. She felt her skin blush heavily and her throat go dry, but spoke none the less. “We want to be different don’t we?” Freddy smiled proudly before ripping the page of the office building of from his book.
“Wot else is there?” He moved the focus on. Taggie met Lizzie’s eyes as they both smiled. Lizzie squeezed Freddy’s hands proudly, looking at him with some sort of secret promise. Taggie planned to give Freddy one of the larger slices of her cake.
Everyone turned their pages and went quiet.
“Before anyone get’s excited…” Cameron warned them. “We need to have it inspected first.” On the page was a small manor house. It looked old, aged and neglected; but it was beautiful. Three levels of brick rising to roofs with several chimneys, promising warming fireplaces inside. Small buildings attached on the sides and wild ivy growing enchantedly around the arched windows. A long winding path lead to a modest carpark amongst green fields of grass that were in desperate need of tending to, but promised the perfect canvas for picnics and staff celebrations. There were oak trees all around and even a small pond. The pictures of the interior were just as wonderful. High ceilings and lots of natural light. Cameron had written a possible plan of layouts and conversion. Drawing rooms could be turned into studios, the bedrooms into offices and editing suits. The dining room a board room and the kitchens into staff hubs and breakout spaces. There was even a large servants quarters that could be turned into dressing rooms and green rooms.
“Could you use the grounds for filming?” Lizzie asked, thinking of romantic films and classic stories just waiting to be played out on this historic landscape.
“Possibly.” Cameron stated clearly.
“Heating could be a nightmare.” Freddy noted.
“Some money would have to go into refurbishing the rooms.” Bas added. Everyone nodded, unable to argue. And then Rupert and Declan met eyes and couldn’t stop themselves from smiling.
“But it looks like us.” Rupert spoke. Declan raised to stand, making Cameron roll her eyes and prepared for another speech.
“It would be a tight budget, we’d need to be crafty. Pull in any favours you can. But this is what Venturer is about. Brining life back to the historic, classic and traditional. Putting joy and life into something instead of turning it cold and practical. It’s a part of Rutshire we can reconnect with the locals.”
“And it would be a beautiful space for fundraisers and events.” Enid chimed in happily.
“Exactly” Declan pointed at her enthusiastically. Seb and Charles were engrossed in Declan’s romantic ramblings, Cameron herself struggled not to smile looking down at the building’s pictures and thinking of what they could do with the space - if they found the money. “Once we choose a place, this all becomes even more real. So we need to be united on this.” Declan said quietly. “So without arguing, without judgment. What do we think?”
.
.
Rupert stood from his seat amongst the merriment now taking place in the living room. Once they had all agreed on a venue, the business element of the evening had ended, and so began the play. Music was put on in the background, cake was slices and drinks were poured. Venturer really did come up with any excuse to celebrate. But it was one of the things Rupert liked about their underdog of a team. They noticed the small wins. Rupert had been sipping on one of Declan’s whiskey’s when he suddenly failed to see any flashes of dark fiery hair, no sounds of hearty laughter or pink blushing cheeks. He was in the middle of discussing the venue possibilities with Declan, Bas and Cameron when he placed down his tumbler began walking towards Lizzie.
“Off to find Taggie.” Bas chuckled playfully. Cameron frowned and turned to see Rupert talking to Lizzie, then quickly striding out the door and towards the kitchen.
“You don’t know that.” Cameron rolled her eyes. “He’s not some love-sick puppy.” She spat rather viciously.
“Oh no?” Bas raised his eyebrows, ready to poke the bear. “Lizzie, Darling!” He waved the older red head over. “What did Rupert want?”
“He asked if I’d seen where Taggie went. I she think told Freddy she was going to start the washing up.” Bas smiled at Cameron smugly, provoking her rolling eyes and standing to attention to strop away.
Rupert found Taggie with her jumper rolled up to the elbows and hands deep in soapy water.
“what are you doing?” He asked in a lecturing tone. Taggie jumped out of her skin again, turning to glare at him with red cheeks.
“Stop doing that!” She groaned. He was making a habit of sneaking up on her - usually when she was over working or doing someone else’s washing up!
“Sorry, Angel.” He smirked again, rolling up his sleeves and joining her by the sink.
“What are you doing?” She asked as he picked up a plate and dipped it into the sink.
“Helping.” He said simply.
“Rupert Campbell-Black volunteering to do the washing up? Has Hell frozen over?” She smirked, happy to see the lines of Rupert’s face deepen with his smile. “Are pigs now flying?”
“Alright, alright. I just don’t want you spending the entire evening cleaning up after everyone. We have some exciting news to share with everyone, remember?” Taggie nervously looked over her shoulder, making sure no one had come in without her hearing.
“Not yet,” she said quietly. “Let daddy have one more drink.”
They washed up in quiet companionship, finding a steady rhythm along side one another, letting the clanging of cups and plates in the water be their soundtrack. Taggie watched Rupert barely rinse a glass before laying it down to dry. Rolling her eyes she reached across him and picked up the glass. “All that money on an expensive education and they never taught you how to wash a glass properly?” She teased.
“I think glassware maintenance was between Poetry Studies and Cunnilingus for Advanced Learners. I felt they took priority.”
“You don’t know any poetry.” Taggie jested as she began cleaning the glass more thoroughly.
“No,” he smirked, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “But we both know I’m very advanced at eating your pu…”
“More plates!” Cameron strutted into the kitchen, high heels suddenly very loud and announcing every step. She slid herself between Taggie and Rupert, the plates falling and sloshing water dramatically around their arms.
“Thanks,” Taggie frowned quietly, whilst Rupert sent dagger’s into the back of Cameron’s head.
10 minutes later, Cameron was back perching on her throne in the living room, forcing back her scowling face as she watched Rupert return with his hand firmly in Taggie’s. Cameron noted his rolled up shirt leaves, dampened at the edges with water and light splash marks on his shirt. Taggie and he sat beside each other on the sofa with Enid and Charles. They were immediately welcomed and met with smiles and rolling questions. Cameron tried not to stare, to focus on what Freddie and Declan were discussing. But her eyes continued to drift. Rupert would wrap his arm over Taggie’s shoulders before resting his other hand on her knee. His thumbs would automatically start stroking gentle lines through the fabric of her jeans. Taggie would naturally lean into his embrace and fiddle with the fabric of his shirt as she listened to the others. At one point Rupert passed Taggie a slice of cake, which she accepted without even taking her eyes off of Enid’s dramatic story. She plucked off the cherry on the top and lifted it up to Rupert’s capturing lips without even a word. There was this casual unspoken intimacy that Cameron failed to understand. How she knew his moves and wants before Rupert even took in breath. How Rupert always managed to find ways to touch Taggie without practically pulling her into his lap. All of this was both confusing and sickening to Cameron. She absolutely was not jealous. Rupert was just another man benefiting from the world that was designed just for him. She certainly didn’t leave to go to the toilet because she watched as Rupert kissed Taggie’s cheek to gain her attention. All to simply to whisper ‘I love you,’ and smile like a child on Christmas when Taggie whispered ‘love you too’ in return. It certainly wasn’t the sting of overhearing Rupert and Taggie discuss ‘exciting news to share’ over hushed tones and dirty sink water. No, she just needed the toilet.
Whilst Cameron was focused on Rupert, Declan was more distracted by his own daughter. Taggie walked in with her usual pink face and uncertain voice. She even carried it shakily with her into the meeting, not contributing much accept to add doe-eyed optimism and the odd non committal ‘sounds good.’ Her comment about the office building looking a bit too much like Corrinium was just voicing what was in everyone’s head. No, she seemed just as she always had. Good old predictable Taggie. Then the business meeting came to a close and Venturer turned into their more sociable selves. That was when his safe little Agatha seemed to disperse into something…new. He’d seen glimpses of it over the last few months, often behind a whiskey glass. But seeing it now with, relatively, sober eyes. It shook him slightly. After being marched back into the room by Rupert, she had an air about her. A straighter spine. It almost resembled her mother. How she leaned leisurely against Rupert like he was her personal sofa cushion. She held his hand and drew lazy patterns on his skin with her thumb, all whilst smiling and laughing at Charles’s jokes. Just like how Maud would stroke her hand up and down Declan’s arm seductively, whilst managing to recite short inserts from whatever play she was working on for their London Bohemian guests. It all made sense when he watched Rupert hand her a slice of cake on one of their plates. Taggie’s eyes didn’t leave Enid’s, but her hands were attracted to Rupert’s like magnets. She took the plate perfectly, and like a rhythmic dance they had repeated over and over again, she lifted the cherry up to Rupert’s mouth. His lips took it graciously, without sultry suave or a flirty glint that so often came from Rupert. It was an unspoken conversation told time and time again with couples much older then them
You’ve not eaten, here.
Thanks. Do you want the cherry? You know I never eat them.
Thank you, don’t mind if I do.
She was comfortable. She felt safe. Confident that the person behind her wasn’t going anywhere Fuck, they really were a couple. So why hadn’t Rupert followed up with his threat to actually capture Taggie and make her his wife? He needed a drink.
When Lizzie could drag her eyes away from Freddie, they were often dancing between Rupert and Taggie. She hadn’t know Taggie long enough to comment on any real changes in her personality, since her and Rupert got together. But even she knew Taggie had grown. From the young filly on shaky legs, trying to find her place and rhythm in Rutshire. To the glowing mare trotting around her stable without a concern in the world. Lizzie would only give Rupert some of the credit. Well, he didn’t need his ego getting too big now, did he? He had certainly been one of the few supportive voices whispering in her ear. Telling her she was so much more than the dyslexic daughter of a famous journalist and glamorous actress. She was destined for more then laundry and the washing up. She did what so many just couldn’t. She made art when other’s simply made meals. After years of her family not appreciating her efforts or her gifts, it was about time Taggie stood on her own two feet and carve out a life for herself. And a life that happened to include shacking up with the Cotswold’s most notorious rake. Well, reformed rake. Where Rupert had made Taggie sturdier, she had made him softer. Lizzie smiled as a needy Rupert desperately searched for ways to touch Taggie that wouldn’t embarrass her. Stroking her knee, casually letting his arm rest behind her on the back of the sofa. And then there was the moment his restraint cracked and he pressed her lips against the edge of her jaw. Taggie smiled as she turned to him, a questioning brow, silently asking him ‘what was that for?’
‘Love you’ - he mouthed silently. Taggie’s eyes sparkles and she replied in turn. They both chuckled at their ridiculousness and returned their attention to whoever they were supposed to be listening to.
And then there was Bas. Like a quiet jester watching over the kingdom, gathering material for his latest performance. They were all rather oblivious to the fact that everyone was watching each other. Cameron was doing a terrible job at hiding her distaste at seeing Rupert and Taggie happy. What was probably the most hurtful thing for the woman, was that neither Taggie or Rupert felt the need to show off their new found love. If Rupert was being his usually play boy self, he would have been slobbering up and down Taggie’s neck and pulling her upstairs for a quickie. But he actually cared very little for proving whatever it was he usually felt he had to prove. He wasn’t swanning in late like he did with Beattie. He wasn’t shagging in cupboards like he didn’t with Sarah. And he wasn’t peacocking around the place like he did with Cameron. He was too busy just… sitting with Taggie. So for Cameron to sit by and watch her replacement be the perfect fit for the man she loved, fuck that had to sting.
Declan was also glowering towards the couple, but not in his usual murderous way. It looked liked he was trying to solve a puzzle. The puzzle of ‘how the fuck did that happen?’
Bas sadly suspected the question wasn’t ‘how did I not see Rupert Campbell-black worm his way into my daughter’s heart?’ instead it was most likely ‘what did he see in her?” It was apparent from day one that The O’Hara’s didn’t recognise the gem they had been gifted with. Not just with her culinary talents, but her kind heart, easy nature and beautiful looks. Hell, if Rupert hadn’t practically peed all over her from day one, Bas would have had a crack at her himself. But Bas planned to keep that to himself.
Lizzie was sipping on her wine and had those rosey cheeks she got when she was a couple glasses over her usual limit. That meant good news for Fred-Fred who’s words were also starting to get a little looser as the night went on. Seb had managed to drag Declan’s attention away from his daughter and was now kissing arse, asking questions abut his career that would send him on long romantic spouts about dead poets. Enid and Charles were going back and forth with large dramatic moments whilst everyone else sat quietly, drinking and smiling and their incredibly dysfunctional team.
.
.
Taggie leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes and listening to the sound of muffled laugher and joy happening in the other room. Lizzie poured her a cup of tea and smiled at her kindly.
“you look happy.” She observed quietly.
“I am.” Taggie reassured her, opening her eyes and gratefully accepting her cup of tea. She wrapped her fingers around the mug, welcoming its warmth like a familiar hug. Whilst everyone was getting merry and loud in the other room, Lizzie winked and pulled her away so they could finally catch up without prying ears. “You look happy too.” She nodded, hinting at the latests developments of Freddy and Lizzie. Both had filed for divorce and were now living in proud open disgrace. They didn’t live together, but regularly slept over at each other’s houses when the opportunity presented itself. “I am.” Lizzie echoed. “You know it occurred to me the other day how similar you and I are. Well, how similar we are now.” Lizzie leaned back in her chair and took a deep sip of her tea.
“What do you mean?” Taggie frowned. Lizzie was a successful writer! She had books with her face and name all over the country. Every housewife or romantic divulged and escaped in her stories! Taggie was no where near as creative or, lets face it, literate.
“Well, we both used to live with people who didn’t see our true worth. We now both caused scandal and both have thriving careers. And from what I can gather, we both have very happy bedrooms as well.” Taggie erupted into giggles of laughter. She loved the cheeky glint that appeared in Lizzie’s eyes. She guessed she was right. Taggie used to be stuck playing Cinderella for her family, whilst Lizzie was playing the repressed housewife for her husband. Now they had partners and families who cherished and supported them. She couldn’t comment on, and neither did she wish to imagine, Freddy’s ability in the bedroom. But she could confirm what everyone else already seemed to know. When it came to sex, Rupert excelled.
The laughter echoed into the hallway and quickly pulled Rupert into the kitchen.
“Here’s me trying to keep her out of the kitchen and you’ve pulled her right back in for a cup of tea!” Rupert playfully scolded Lizzie.
“shh!” Taggie shushed him. “If the other’s hear you they’ll all want one. And guess who’ll be left to make it.” Taggie groaned. Rupert smiled with a hazy drunkenness of one too many whiskies. “Ooo. You know you’re very sexy when you’re selfish.” He mumbled, leaning over her shoulder to kiss her cheek and down her neck. Taggie failed to stop her blush as she swatted him away with her hands.
“Rupert.” She complained gleefully. Rupert however ignored her, letting his hands roam around her waist as he nudged her hips - scooting her to the edge of the chair so he could join her. Lizzie smiled motherly and stood with her cup of tea.
“I think that’s my cue to leave.”
“Yes thank you.” Rupert called with false arrogance, now pulling taggie to perch on his lap whilst she protested through fits of laughter.
“Lizzie no! You can stay.” She managed to gasp out as Rupert’s hands continued to roam her body, his lips now gliding along her neck. Lizzie ignored Taggie’s protests and left her to enjoy Rupert’s drunken affections. “You are a very impossible man.” Taggie wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him in place with her stare.
“It’s why you love me.” Taggie lifted one of her palms, fingertips stroking the edges of Rupert’s cheek bone..
“One of the reasons.” She whisper before Rupert leaned in and kissed her deeply. She could taste the amber liquid on his tongue and even picked up a hint of smoke. He must had hidden a cigarette whilst she was enjoying her cup of tea with Lizzie.
“Now, serious faces.” Rupert pulled away, doing his best in his tipsy state to appear earnests. Taggie mimicked his face with a frowning brow and intense eyes. “I have been on my best behaviour all evening and have not said a word to anyone about our latest news. However I am now 5 whiskies in, and your father has gone to make a sixth. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to hold it in for much longer Angel. And also, if we don’t tell your father soon, he’ll be too drunk to remember it in the morning.” Taggie laughed weakly but nodded her head. It was time.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Let’s tell them.”
“Excellent!” Rupert suddenly sprung to life, standing dramatically and launching Taggie on her feet with him. “Right, first things first. Necklace off O’Hara.” Taggie unclasped her necklace and let the ring fall onto Rupert’s outstretched palm. He held the ring between his two fingers and in a very wobbly manner, got down onto one knee.
“What are you…”
“Shh.” He interrupted her. “Agatha. Taggie. Tags. Angel.”
“Rupert.” Taggie chuckled.
“For the second time, would you please, pretty please, marry me?”
“Are you sure you’ve only had the 5 whiskies?” Rupert contorted his face that suggested his numbers may not be accurate, but ended with a charming smile that she could never say no to. Taggie shook her head fondly, excited to spend the rest of her life putting up with this impossible man. “for the second time, yes Rupert, I will marry you.” Rupert released a breath, as if there was the smallest possibility that she would have changed her mind. He returned the ring to her finger, where it was to stay for now on. Taggie reached out to stroke a lock of his unruly drunk curls before Rupert captured her wrist with his hand and kissed the inside of her palm.
“Ready to face the firing squad?” Taggie took a deep breath, but nodded.
Taggie stood beside Rupert has he towered high in the doorway. All their friends were busy laughing, rosy cheeks and chatting amongst themselves.
“If I can get your attention,” Rupert announced. The chatter continued. Rolling his eyes he lifted two fingers to his lips and blew out a high pitch screeching whistle! Everyone turned with complaining faces and covering their ears. “Thank you.” Rupert sniggered as he finally had their attention. “Right, I’m too pissed to make a big speech…”
“Thank fuck for small mercies,” Bas interrupted.
“But,” Rupert ignored him. “Me and Taggie have some news. A few weeks ago I asked her to marry me. And she said yes.” He lifted up her hand he was currently holding and turned her wrist gently to show of the white and green sparkling gems that now lived on her ring finger.
Everyone in the room quickly turned their gaze to Declan who was standing with his drink in mid-air, mid sip. Taggie followed their eyeliner and landed on her father who looked, for just a brief moment, as if he was grieving. Then it flickered away. He turned to everyone staring at him and set a thin scowl across his face.
“What are you staring at me for? I’m not paying for the wedding. He’s rich enough for them to pay it themselves.” A few seconds of award silence was broke by a relieved laughter of everyone standing. Lizzie shook her head of the nonsense and collided dramatically with Taggie, wrapping her arms around her and squeezing her tightly! Everyone finally erupted into cheers and smiles, rushing to hug the couple and share their congratulations. Taggie was blushing as she showed off her ring, agreeing that Rupert had chosen well. Bas was patting Rupert on the shoulder, telling him he’d finally done something right, before moving his attention over to the Bride to be. Rupert looked up and saw Declan slowly approaching, with a stern face as usual. Rupert squared his shoulders and breathed in heavily .
“If you ever do anything to hurt her, I will make sure your life isn’t worth living.” Declan said coldly. Rupert nodded, no humour or defence.
“If I ever hurt her, my life already wouldn't be worth living.” He agreed. Declan seemed to find this an acceptable answer as he stretched out his arm and shook the man’s hand before they both broke into laughter and embrace warmly. “Thanks, dad.” Rupert jested.
“Yeah don’t push it.” Declan groaned, swiftly walking towards his daughter. The sea of people parted for Declan as he reached Taggie. She smiled and blushed as her father took her hand in his gently and inspected the ring. It was beautiful, subtle even, but with a unique sparkle of emerald greens that suited Taggie’s colouring. “You really had to fall for a Tory?” Taggie shrugged casually.
“You know I never really understood politics.” Declan smiled, pulling Taggie close and kissing the top of her head.
“If you’re happy, I’m happy.” He whispered earnestly. Taggie released a nervous breath she had been holding since her engagement to Rupert. The secret was out and her father hadn’t exploded into a burst of rage and alcohol.
“Thank you, daddy.”
Rupert watched from a distance as Declan and Taggie embraced, feeling as much relief as Taggie. With Declan truly accepting of them, and his actions matching his words, he knew Taggie could finally rest. Her anxieties could ease and they could now focus on being happy and together, with no secrets or barriers. From the corner of his eye, a harsh movement of red captured his attention. He saw Cameron making a quick exit from the room and suddenly a wave of heavy guilt landed on him. He moved hastily, calling out her name as she was gathering her coat from the stair banister.
“Cameron,” he said simply as soon as she looked up. He saw it right away. The hurt. “I… I’m sorry I didn’t give you the heads up. I didn’t think…
“Don’t. You really don’t need to.” She raised her hand, feeling embarrassed enough already. The last thing she wanted to feel on top of this bile of an emotion was pitied. Knowing the entire room was well aware of how jealous and devastated she was feeling right now was bad enough. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Congratulations.” Cameron didn’t put her coat on, but quickly turned to leave the merriment for those who actually were happy for the couple.
“Cameron wait!” What stopped Cameron at the door, was the fact it wasn’t Rupert’s booming voice calling for her, but the light nervousness of Taggie. She turned to see Taggie gesturing for Rupert to leave them before she lightly jogged over to her. She could see the endless list of apologies written over Taggie’s face. She didn’t have the stomach to hear it. It still didn’t make sense in her mind. Cameron was an accomplished, powerful, sexual compatible and attractive woman. A perfect match for a man like Rupert. And yet he tossed her aside for this young slip of a girl who blushed when anyone looked at her and could barely string two words together when nervous. It didn’t make sense.
“Please don’t start apologising and asking if I’m all right.” Cameron rolled her eyes, not able to show any vulnerability to the young girl. All she could do was repeat the words she said to her months ago as she crouched on the steps of Penscombe. “You win.” She shrugged.
“It’s not about winning.” Taggie frowned before shaking her head. “Look, I’m not her to say sorry. I wanted to say…” she sighed as she thought better of it.
“go on.” Cameron demanded.
“You deserve someone who makes you feel safe. Tony Baddingham and… well even Rupert. Did they actually make you feel calm? Or was it the excitement of being with someone you shouldn’t have been with.” Cameron snorted.
“You’re one to talk.” To Cameron’s surprise Taggie laughed.
“yeah that’s fair. But when all that settled, Rupert was the first place I felt seen. Calm. You should find someone who does the same for you.” A cold shiver ran down Cameron’s spine as she thought back to a New Years Eve Party where a trick created to induce jealously turned into one of the most wholesome and embarrassingly vulnerable evenings she had ever had. But Cameron kept that for herself. Turning away from Taggie and driving speedily home.
Taggie shut the front door, not watching as Cameron drove away. Instead she returned to the kitchen to quietly clean up the cups and teapot she head shared with Lizzie early. Amongst the joy and laughter she heard quiet footsteps, following by two strong arms wrapping round her waist and soft lips grazing along her neck. “Can’t I go ten minutes without your finding me?” She giggled.
“Nope.” Rupert whispered. “I can’t breathe without you,” he began, sparking memories of a year ago when all the trouble began. “It’s pure self preservation.” Taggie smiled, turning in his arms and capturing his lips, just as she did that one fateful night. When she said the things she wasn’t supposed to. Kissed the man she wasn’t supposed to. And everything finally made sense.
.
.
The week after their announcement went by in a weird whirlwind of fancy satin gowns and diamond earrings. The Hunt Ball flew into Taggie’s life as quickly as it left. Rupert came home, invitation in hand and demanding that she take his card and go shopping with Lizzie. Considering the last dress Taggie chose with Lizzie resulted in her getting engaged, she had to admit the suggestion was very inviting. Whilst giggling over champagne and Lizzie whispering suggestions for wedding gown silhouettes, Taggie ended up choosing a rather classy and subtle black dress. The high collar made from lace and hugging her torso nicely. The dress then fluttered out into a full skirt that ended mid calf.
The Hunt ball was on a Saturday. In theory it gave Taggie and Rupert plenty of time to get ready with out any delays. But as soon as Rupert walked into the bathroom, ready to shave the light stubble that had begun growing on his face, he was distracted. Taggie was wearing high heels, hair and make-up done nicely and sporting a scandalous set of black lace lingerie he hadn’t seen her in before. Not wanting to mess up her make—up, Rupert hoisted her up onto the sink, pulled down the lacy thong and pleasured her with his tongue. By the time Taggie’s electric mews subsided, there was no time for Rupert to shave. As the couple laughed and giggled at their late arrival with Freddy and Bas, a flash of light appeared from beside them. Paparazzi capturing the couple together. Taggie felt like a deer in headlights, but Rupert was there. His warm and solid hands guiding her away and offering her his glass of champagne. By the end of the night, the flashes of light might as well have been sparkling stars. Together they had danced, drank and laughed with friends. Lizzie had gotten a little carried away with her wine and made a loud toast to Rupert and Taggie’s engagement that she was certain several people at the next table heard. But looking at her slightly stubbled husbands and her glittering ring, she decided she didn’t care. It was time to stop hiding.
The next day, Taggie was humming to herself, frying sausages for sandwiches, when Rupert dropped a newspaper beside her. She noticed his nervous and uncertain face before she noticed her own printed in black and white. She picked up the news paper and slowly read the title the best she could. Eventually she shook her head, it was no use. “Read it to me.”
“Are you sure?” Rupert asked doubtfully, taking the paper from her. Taggie nodded with determination. She knew she was going to have to get used to this. Rupert sighed heavily before reading out load. “A young bride for an experienced groom - second time lucky? It appears wedding bells are once again tolling for Rupert Campbell-Black, who has announced his engagement with all the confidence of a man convinced that practice makes perfect…” To his surprise, Taggie giggled.
“That’s clever.” She commented before returning her attention to their breakfast. “Let me guess. Beattie Johnson?” Rupert nodded, suspicious at his soon to be wife’s positive mood - considering how distraught she was the last time they made the papers. Rupert chose not to tempt fate and simply threw the news paper into the bin. “Wait!” Taggie turned! “Cut out the picture! We look nice.” Baffled in the most glorious of ways, Rupert saved the one page of a newspaper he usually threw away. The Scorpion. He folded the paper into his pocket with plans of cutting out their picture and framing it for his office desk.
“Right then! The Future Mrs CB. What’s the plan for today?” News article forgotten, he joined his fiancé for a late breakfast before they would venture into the woods and start discussing wedding plans.