Edith looked to the grass on her right and smiled, scanning the beautiful garden. He believed her, that was all that mattered. She looked up to him with her smile, “You are right my Lord, forgive me, sometimes I speak too much” she gave a little laugh. Cecily had always told her she was a non-stop talker, but in public, Edith made sure to be graceful, to be ladylike, to represent her family The Howards, well.

She felt so close to him, holding his hand, it was the first time they had touched since meeting, besides his kiss on her fingers. It felt wonderful, she felt so safe, it was strange how the warmth of his hand, gave her shivers up her body.

“It was quite lovely my lord, the ballroom is exquisite” she paused for a moment to straighten her pins in her hair, and then began to twirl a piece in her fingers. “Lord Edmund is a fine man, a great match for the duchess, I’m sure they will live very happily before God” she smiled at the thought of living happily with Tom, marrying him, bedding him before God, doing his will, taking his judgement. Your children will be Catholic the thought crossed her mind in a moment, but she quickly put the distressing words in the back of her mind. They will pray to bread as if it were the flesh of Christ, they will bow down to wine as if it were the Holy Son’s own blood again she tried to put the thoughts to the back of her mind. It was no use thinking about this, she would cross the bridge when she got there, when she’d given him children. She coughed a bit into her left hand, and quickly resumed the grace she had before.

It was very calm outside, but he still couldn't stop such outrageous thoughts swirling through his mind. Lord Villon had disgraced her sister - why would Lady Edith fall for such an invisible ruse to destroy her family? But then he'd seen her, twirling her hair and smiling at the other man. How could he trust her so when he'd seen her doing such a thing with his own eyes? But he hid such judgement and smiled at her.

"He does. I am sure Pemberton will favour greatly from such an alliance," he said. He had been hoping that his Duchess would create such an alliance with either Marcheford or Harleston, so that Ashton ould increase in power and dominance. He knew his Duchess could lead them to infinity - she just needed the time.

They hadn't had an opportunity to dance inside, so he bowed to her and let go of her hand for a brief moment. He knew that romance was something she'd appreciate so he'd give it to her - it seemed prudent given the previous scenario. But then there was a little part of him that wanted to dance with her, given that he'd spend the rest of his life with her.

The rest of his life... it seemed like such a long time. And how could such a union prosper if she was dallying around with other men? But then it didn't need to prosper, really, as long as it survived - and it would as long as he kept silent. He needed to keep a sideline view, not get too immersed, or he would be caught up as he'd seen so many people be.

Like his mother. She'd become too caught up in love and so killed herself. He would never end up like that, and there was no threat that he would. Tom was his father all over again. He would not make the mistake of falling in love or marrying someone who believed so much in it they were prepared to die for it.

And no - Tom was a diplomatic person and he didn't force people to do what they didn't want to. He knew that this lead to mutiny more than anything else and he wasn't keen to embrace it, especially not in his own household. His children would be given freedom of choice - but only between their parent's two religions. He would not raise a heathen.

"Would you like to dance, Lady Edith?" he said as he straightened up to kiss her hand. It was the perfect scenario, more classic than being watched by everyone in a crowded hall. He steadied himself and smiled at her again, his head tilted a little to the side.

The past moment with Lord Francois Villon had completely left Lady Edith’s mind. Her only thoughts were on Tom, Lord Finn, her soon to be husband. Tomorrow she would be fitted for her wedding dress, and choose the jewellery she would wear on that wonderful day. She had already ordered the garment she would wear for the wedding night, a silky white night gown, with white purls and embroidery to symbolise her virginity.

The night before Edith had received a letter from her elder sister Clare, congratulating her on the successful betrothal. But her words were ill purposed, and jealousy streaked between the lines. “I hope you keep yourself in your dress until the wedding, until the vows are said and he cannot break it” the evil words rang in her head. Any other person would have seen that as a sisterly reminder to keep chaste and keep her reputation. But Edith knew Clare all too well. What Clare had of course meant, was that once Tom would see her naked, he would wish to not marry her at all, thus wait until he cannot take it back. It was a nasty comment, and of course untrue. She might not have been as thin as Clare, but she thought she had quite an enticing body. She had nice curves that gave her a womanly appeal, and porcelain white skin that stood in contrast with her dark brown hair.

Edith agreed with Tom’s comment on Pemberton. It was a far away duchy, but often Edith wished she lived there instead of the dull and militaristic Benthey. Edith insisted most of her gowns be ordered from Pemberton, and would often wear the French styled hoods they wore there.

Edith blushed at his romantic gesture when taking her hand. She curtseyed in her usual graceful manner as a queen, and smiled at her betrothed. “It would be my pleasure, Lord Tom” she pushed her hair behind her as the headed towards the ballroom once again. She wondered if Tom was looking forward to their wedding night just as she was. Did he find her attractive? He never seemed to give those lustful stares at her that so many men in the court did, but Edith knew she was beautiful, how could he not? Perhaps he was more so into the blond, brown eyed type with flat straight hair and thin like her sisters.

She started to move back to the hall so he had to pull on her hand a little bit to get her back to him. She was, it seemed, bound by ritual in such a way that she couldn't dance anywhere besides a dancing hall. And he was trying so desperately to be romantic here. He had thought she'd like such a thing - love was mediocre but romance was a whole different world.

"No, here, Lady Edith. I think they are closing down the ball but there is no rule for us not to dance out here," he said and enclosed her hand in his, his other going to her waist. He had danced with two women today - Lady Besseta and his Duchess, but even his Duchess's tests hadn't been as important as this dance. This dance was his future.

Tom didn't like Pemberton much. He preferred the simple elegance of design that was apparent in Ashton, and the unassuming beauty it held. Pemberton was too rich in everything, leading to an underlying need to be pretty but not managing it. Hopefully Lord Edmund's rule would calm down the flittering butterfly that was Pemberton.

When he and Lady Edith were married they would live in Ashton. Tom wouldn't live anywhere else. All the other Duchies were boring compared to his and all the other rulers were poor compared to his Duchess. Besides, he didn't think Lady Edith would mind that much. He had already noted that her clothing was from Pemberton, so it would be easy to show her the loveliness of Ashton.

He attempted to hum a little of the music inside the hall. He was no great shakes at singing or such musical pursuits - his father hadn't deemed it the right sort of behavior at all. But he wanted some music for them to dance to, or his steps would get muddled. He wasn't brilliant at dancing but he had the skill that all Ashtonites possessed.

"Ah well, I really can not sing. Or hum, for that matter," he said, smiling again at her as he started to dance and did his best not to steer them into things or make them tumble down the hill. Lord Villon was gone, the night was old and yet they had so much time to spend.

Lady Edith was surprised when Lord Tom pulled her hand back. What was this? She was a bit confused for a moment, and then stared at him, as a great blush spread across her face. Gosh, how romantic! To dance, right here? Alone? Oh he was just… wonderful she thought.

She smiled at him and raised her eyebrows, in a flirty glance. “But my lord, we won’t have any music to dance to” she gave a small giggle, pushing her hair back to the side. Oh Claire would be so jealous at this very moment. Edith bet she’d never had something like this done for her. Jewels, and gifts were one thing, but something this romantic, oh it was beautiful.

As he put is arm on her waste, Edith tried to hide her blush of feeling his soft touch. She put her right hand on his shoulder, as he took his hand in hers. This was just so different then when Francois had touched her. When Francois had put his hands on her waist, his touch was crude, and filled with lust. But Tom’s touch, oh it was so different. So proper, so romantic, so gentlemen like. He will make a perfect husband. Edith smiled to herself, and she a great wife.

Edith began to laugh when he made the comment about humming. She listened to the tune, all though a bit off key. She herself was very musically trained, and quite an exceptional singer. She wondered if she’d ever get to sing for him. “Sire, what is this melody you hum?”

It's beautiful
Makes everything beautiful
It makes it all better
So we'll live forever

He was relieved that she accepted his offer - he had worried that she'd be too used to a dancing hall to dance on the grass. After all, night was falling and the candles in the windows wouldn't keep outside lighted for long. And he knew from experience that being alone with a woman in the night led to unexpected events - and he didn't want to put himself into the situation in which he'd compromise Lady Edith's honour.

But her proximity and the blush on her cheeks made such a decision hard to uphold. He was a man of honour but then she was Lady Edith, of such radiant beauty that it made his breath catch in his throat - no. He couldn't think this way. It wasn't so much that he was thinking of her beauty as that he was thinking of her physical beauty - namely, her body. And thinking about her body while alone with her was not the way he wanted to come off.

So Tom tried to focus on answering her question. "Er... I actually have no idea. It was playing in the hall." Then, after a moment's consideration, "are you a good singer, Lady Edith?" If he listened to her voice he wouldn't be able to think of anything else. He smiled at her and twirled her, steps moving ceaselessly as he ran through the notes of the song in his head so as not to mess up.

She would make a good wife. As long - he thought about this rather viciously, but said nothing because he didn't want to bring up strife - as she didn't fraternize with other men. He wasn't normally jealous but he would be if he found out his wife was with another man. He might have to duel the man or try end the marriage, and that was a scar he didn't need on his name.

The night was getting darker, and slowly, one could see the stars come out in the sky. Edith’s mind wondered to what Clare was doing right now. She was probably packing to come home. After her sister Catherine, gave birth to Robert, Edith’s new nephew, Clare had no purpose staying with Catherine. Her confinement would be up yesterday; soon the long heavenly peace of the absent Clare would be interrupted.

Hopefully she wouldn’t have to stay with Clare long though; she must be getting married to Tom soon. If you don’t screw this up she thought for a moment, flashing back to what had happened with Francois. But Tom seemed to be forgiving, and Edith knew, she would never put herself in such a compromising situation again.

For a moment, Edith was excited as she thought she saw a flash of desire within his eyes. But to her disappointment, it quickly disappeared. She so desperately wanted her betrothed to lust after her, to show her off to his friends. Of course he must appreciate her intelligence and wit too, but beauty was far more important in the world.

Edith rolled her eyes up at his question. She was an exceptional singer, trained like a proper lady. Unfortunately, this was due to her skipping out on her embroidery lessons to practise, thus she was a terrible at embroidering. But of course, she wouldn’t let Tom know that. “Nothing out of the ordinary my Lord, but I do rather have a passion for music” she gave a smile looking away. Her answer was modest, but that was how a lady must speak.

He wasn't sure when his father had arranged for the marriage to be - that was all in the statements left back at Finn Manor in the charge of the manservant. Tom was rather glad he didn't live there any more, because the atmosphere was haunting at best - the lives of two people had ended there, one of those a soft woman who loved another man. He'd heard the story from his father and it had served as a stern reminder that one should never get too attached.

It wasn't so much that he wasn't proud of her as that he didn't want to ruin her. He'd seen so many cases of sex before marriage that it all became one big mess and often ended in runaway marriages or torn-apart lovers. It was much simpler just to wait, if only for a little while, so that nothing could be shattered. So he would wait and bide his time, and in time she would come to realise how much he wanted her. But for the moment he couldn't think like that.

Many men boasted of honour and being true to oneself and never taking advantage of a Lady but once the time came and they let themselves get too far in, all those notions were gone. It was a simple natural phenomenon that they indulged in, but with it went their code of honour. And so Tom didn't let himself get too lustful for women, because sooner or later it would end in the end of his morals and all types of strings attached.

"That is admirable," he said slowly, following her footsteps through the dance moves, "I have to say it's an art I have never managed to pick up. Would you care to sing for me?" He was very open with his art, in such a way that he accepted anyone and everyone who did it - he would never scorn or laugh because he was afraid of such things happening to his own art. So he smiled at her gently and hoped she would open up and share herself with him.

Looking back on when she’d first found out about the betrothal, Edith had to admit, she hadn’t exactly been happy. Her father had kept it secret from her, her entire life, until 4 months ago. Sir Thomas probably did that in case the betrothal fell through, like so many did. But it hadn’t, and at the death of Tom’s father, Thomas Howard had been anxious to marry his daughter off to one of the richest young lads in the land.

At the time, Edith had been reading many fairy tales, including a Spanish tale called Repunzel. She didn’t want to be betrothed to a man she didn’t know, she wanted to be rescued by a knight in shining armour, a charming prince. But by the time Edith had come to court, she had realised this dream was nothing then what it was, a fairy tale.

But of course when she had set eyes upon her betrothed, these thoughts came racing back. He was so charming, romantic, and ruggedly handsome. All she found was she wanted to please him, make him happy to have her as a betrothed. But somehow, Edith had this nagging feeling it wasn’t working.

Edith looked up at her betrothed, and smiled in a playful way. “My lord, I couldn’t possibly…” she looked down in embracement. She wouldn’t sing for him, it was too embarrassing, and she shouldn’t, it was immodest, and scandalous for a woman to sing in front of a man who was not her husband, even if betrothed. She swept her hair to the right so it wouldn’t go in front of her face.

Edith laughed for a moment; “Lord Tom, I should die of embarrassment, please save me from such a curse” she smiled and looked up at him. What was he thinking about? Could he be thinking about their wedding night? He never looked to her cleavage, like Francois had, was he not satisfied with her?

He didn't really dwell on such things as marriages - he thought them important but not overpowering. What was really important was a degree of cordiality, as once everything fell to love and affection it was much too confusing. The best marriages came with simplicity and little pressure, as one could build on this as the marriage continued and one could possibly harbour affectionate feelings for the other.

Just because he wasn't a crude and vile man like Lord Villon didn't mean he wasn't thinking about her. Just because he didn't try to get to sleep with her the moment he saw her didn't mean he didn't want to. And just because he didn't say so boldly how adept a wife she was going to be didn't mean he didn't think it. She was jumping to conclusions about him and shouldn't - one day, when she knew him better, she'd find out that he was very predictable indeed.

"Why not?" he asked, utterly confused. He'd seen many people singing together, in the gardens, on the streets and in the countryside. It was just a practice, like talking except bolder - and he couldn't see anything wrong with singing the national anthem when everyone had to and did. He didn't often share his work with people but that was more because he physically couldn't drag it around, rather than just a voice that she used all the time anyway.

But he shrugged as he slid easily through the steps and tried to cast his mind away from such thoughts - they'd just make him question her and so be unhappy. He had to take things as they came, not create more strife for them both to handle. Lady Edith seemed to be doing fine at that, he thought as he remembered Lord Villon. But he put such thoughts away again and concentrated on her.

"Who have you danced with tonight, Lady Edith?" he asked as he twirled her, trying to focus on keeping her upright. His back was ramrod straight, a concerned look shone in his eyes and his hand was clasped firmly on her waist.