Chapter Text
Michaela hadn't wanted a ball. She knew her mother and aunt were just trying to make her happy, they hated to throw balls and they were hosting one in her honour because they thought she would love it. So, when aunt Janet and her mother told her they were hosting a ball for Michaela's 18th birthday to present her as a debutante in Scottish society, Michaela smiled and thanked them for it.
She had told herself it would be fine, she loved to dance and talk to people. Everyone always called her charming, and even her family relished in her ability to captivate a crowd's attention, not being very social people themselves.
Her mother and aunt had been surprised — relieved, for sure, but mostly surprised — when Michaela had informed them she didn't wish for a London season, because she had always loved socialising. She was sure they believed her decision to be for their comfort more than her own, but they were wrong.
The idea of being courted by men made her sick to her stomach, she didn't want to marry, she couldn't, it was almost physically painful to imagine herself having such a life.
So, when her birthday ball started she would politely smile at everyone giving her their best wishes, she would entertain them with a story or two about her life at Kilmartin Castle and she would find a minute or two to converse with the pretty débutantes who had been invited.
She allowed three men, other than John, to dance with her, and everything was going alright until Lord Williams chose to speak.
“I'm glad you're finally out in society, Miss Stirling,” he said, and Michaela immediately tensed. Lord Williams was fine, but she didn't like where the conversation seemed to be going.
“Is that so?” She tried to laugh it off.
“Indeed. I've seen you around with your cousin and he has nothing but good things to say about you,” he continued.
“John is too kind,” she tried once again.
“Maybe I will just have to call on you and decide if he's right myself,” he said, as the song they were dancing to was playing the last chords.
Michaela saw Lord Williams take a bow and offered one of her own before running off.
She didn't see where she was going, didn't think where she wanted to go, but she knew this house like the palm of her hand so she let her feet take her to wherever it was she could take some air in solitude.
When she got to the Floral Gardens in Kilmartin House she breathed in relief. She was finally alone and could sit there, beside the fountain without worrying about anyone but perhaps the staff finding her, since her family was busy entertaining guests.
She felt like a farce, if she couldn't go through ONE ball without getting overwhelmed then how was she supposed to go through life as a young lady? She didn't plan to marry and she was sure her family would never force her to. John would never give her reason to need marriage the way other young ladies did. All she had to do was endure a few years of men trying to woo her and then, when she was old enough, she would be considered on the shelf and left alone. That was her plan. She didn't want to be ostracised or excluded from society, so remaining approachable enough was a key point to achieve her dreamed spinster life.
Now she wasn't so sure she could endure trying to be wooed as well as she first thought. And she felt terrified.
“You left the party,” the familiar voice of her cousin took her out of her mind for a second.
“I needed air,” she said, not wanting to make him worry.
“Do I have to speak with Lord Williams about respecting boundaries?” John said, sitting next to her on the floor.
She shook her head, unable to answer.
John accepted her answer and looked at the garden before asking, “What's wrong, then?”
And she could have lied to him, he would have known she was lying, but he wouldn't have pressed, except, she didn't want to lie to him.
Tears were running down her face when she finally spoke.
“Do you know how mother knew she was in love with my father?” She asked, and if he was confused, John was good at hiding it.
“I remember there was a tree,” he simply said, waiting for her to finish.
“They were already too old for such childish games, but when your father dared her to get as high as she could on that tree she had to,” Michaela started.
John chuckled a little, “they were already brother and sister back then, weren't they?” She nodded, with a smile.
“Mother got stuck in that tree and then father laughed,” she continued, “mother says she couldn't remember ever seeing anything as handsome or hearing anything as beautiful as in that moment.”
John looked at her, waiting for the real moment of revelation.
“I haven't felt anything alike, but, the closest thing to it I've experienced —” she paused, fully crying now.
John didn't say anything, he knew she needed time, but he gave her his hand to squeeze.
“It was Miss Miranda,” she finally confessed, holding onto John's hand for dear life while he left out a soft breath.
“Oh.”
That was all he answered. He didn't let go of her hand, but Michaela had started to panic, she could practically see John's mind working, and before she could stop herself, she started rambling.
“I can't do it, John, I can't be a debutante, I will ruin it by being so… inadequate,” tears in her eyes and voice so close to breaking made her look the most vulnerable she had ever been, she was sure of it.
And just when she thought she could lose everything she ever loved because of her confession, John spoke.
“You will never be inadequate in my eyes,” he said gently, but with unwavering conviction.
She couldn't help but cry her relief out for a minute, and when she felt safe enough in John's embrace she also felt brave enough to ask.
“What am I gonna do, then?”
He thought about it for a moment, before weakening his hold on her and saying, “Lady Ashworth told mother she was looking for a young lady to be her companion on her travels, now that her husband is dead. I heard my mother telling aunt Helen about it.”
Michaela smiled, glad she had confessed to John.
“Do you think they will let me go with her?”
“I will help you convince them, Micki,” he squeezed her hand one more time.
The day they embarked, Michaela was filled with excitement, but above all, she felt peace, it wasn't just her secret anymore, John knew the reason she would never marry, and he loved her still. She would miss him, but she knew she couldn't miss the chance to see the world in one of the few appropriate ways a young lady could ever do so. And if John gave her a ring so she could pretend to be a widow when the occasion required it, well, she was more than happy to use it.