Pinkest Bluestocking of the Ton - Chapter 19 - ritaskeetered - Harry Potter (2024)

The duch*ess of Peverell did not sleep. She merely paced the floor of the drawing room, filled with worry and a doom that was most unlike her character. London awoke slowly but surely, the news of the previous night's events undoubtedly reaching their ears, leaving them to gasp at the scandal that had unfolded. All the while, Lily found herself recounting the sight of her husband being escorted to one of Buckingham Palace's holding cells, calling out for her as he saw her, his cheeks flushed. The memory had her feeling out of sorts, her stomach turning.

What it turned for, however, was a marvel. Only the day before - as she had gotten ready for the Royal Wedding, admiring herself in the mirror - had the thought occurred to her, the answer to the question of why her breasts spilled out of her dress, why the elegant attire no longer fit her as a glove. She had been feeling out of sorts for a while, attributing this first and foremost to the drama that had played out between her and her husband in recent weeks. Never had she stopped to consider that she might be with child, not until it had dawned on her quite suddenly before departing for the Princess Royal's wedding, her hand falling to her stomach as she had let out a barely audible: "Oh."

She had been so close to telling her husband the night before, had imagined the way his face would be split in two as his smile brightened up his complexion. She had believed that she and her husband would spend the night in their bed, celebrating. Instead, she was left to deal with the aftermath of a burst of violence that was most unlike her husband, and had caused her mother-in-law to retire with a migraine.

Thankfully, the Dowager duch*ess Lady McGonagall had been there to escort the woman. Lily did not think she herself was fit to do much other than wait for news of James. Surely, she thought to herself, they would allow him to write her a note? She fidgeted with the handkerchief in her hands, picking at the loose thread that was her sole comfort at this hour of the day.

It was a mistake, was it not? Her husband would be returned to her swiftly, would he not? Another wave of nausea, made her pause, closing her eyes as she breathed in through her nose, bile rising up her throat. For what if she had no reason to hope? What if they would not let James go? What if they meant to imprison him, keep him from her for an undefined period of time? What if she was doomed to carry his child without him at her side for the foreseeable future? What if she did not get to tell him? What if the only way her husband were to know about his impending fatherhood, was through a letter she penned as tears dropped from her eyes, leaving stains all over the paper?

"His name must be cleared!" Lord Black said for what most have been the dozenth time that morning. "I shall march to the palace myself if he is not released in the next hour. My sources say that he struck Lord Malfoy, which can only be deserved -" Her husband's best friend and brother grumbled. "Just wait, until Lady Whistledown hears about this."

The latter, she was certain, was meant to make her smile, but she could not partake in his jests today. She was quite simply too fatigued and distressed, positively tormented over the thought of James spending the night and better part of the day in a holding cell. "I do not think even your writing alter ego could make a difference now. If she is seen favouring his side too much in all of this when we do not have all the details of what has transpired just yet, you may be found out and that is the last thing I would want, nor James for that matter. We must tread carefully."

Sirius scoffed. "Married life surely has turned the both of you into contented bores," he heaved a sigh as he let himself fall onto the sofa. "Alas, I shall just have to oblige and do what must be done. I will not clear his name, but I will also not make him out to be guilty of anything until proven otherwise."

"Thank you," she told him. Her hair was loose and hung in waves down her back, her evening gown by now traded for a more comfortable day dress. A book rested in her lap, but so far she had been unable to read so much as a word. "I wish they would tell us what happened. One moment, James leaves me reluctantly and then I see him escorted away by a number of palace guards. They would not let me near, not even when -" she blinked rapidly, trying to push the tears down. "He was not hurt, thankfully."

"I should have been there," muttered Lord Black under his breath. "I could have stopped -"

"There is nothing you could have done," she shrugged, feeling defeated. "I doubt James would have been in any less trouble for it. Perhaps, the both of you would have found yourselves confined if you had attended the Royal Wedding." She shook her head to herself. "How much worse things would have been if that were the case." Her smile was weak and watery as she looked at him. "Imagine the uproar at the fact that no new Lady Whistledown would have been published today."

Black hummed, legs splayed out in front of him. "I am sure Lady Skeeter is rejoicing at this moment. My cousin is most likely writing the vilest of accounts of last night's happenings. We shall just have to hope that the Ton do not choose to take her word at face value."

This worried her, too. Knowing the identity of Lady Whistledown's rival - even if Lady Lestrange's writing alter ego could hardly be considered true competition for the true gossip author of the Ton - was a point of true concern. The woman, after all, disliked both her and her husband greatly, not to mention that she despised her cousin - James' brother - with such passion that Lily imagined her pen was currently happily scratching into the nearest parchment at her disposal.

"I do not know what to do," she thus lamented. "What use am I to my husband if I cannot help him?"

"Do not speak as such," Sirius eyed her sternly. "If James could hear you now, he would break his chains, slip through the bars, fight his way through the guards, run back home and demand you to take back your words, getting in even more trouble than he already is." The laugh that escaped her was accompanied by a fresh bout of tears. "My brother loves you more than any man has ever loved his wife, I am sure. I cannot even begin to tell you how many times I have had to endure talk ofMiss Lily that andMiss Lilythis. The name change to Miss Evans and then to duch*ess of Peverell, quite frankly, was and is music to my ears."

"You love him," she reminded the gentleman sitting across from her. "You would not change a thing about him."

"I would not, no," he spoke frankly, "and I am glad that he married a woman I am happy and proud to call my sister."

Her nose pricked. "Donot make me cry again," she scolded him. "I fear I might end up fully dehydrated and in my state -" she snapped her mouth shut, heat rushing to her cheeks, very much aware of the fact that she had very nearly spilled the one secret she was determined to keep until her husband were to have heard her break the news to him.

A brief silence followed in which Lord Black eyed her sharply before he cleared his throat and turned his head away. "Well, we shall just have to call for some more tea and other refreshments, shall we?"

Before either of them could, however, Mr Weasley entered the drawing room, looking rattled as he rushed in with a letter bearing a seal that she recognized instantly. She got up from her seat as the footman bowed and held out the silver tray upon which the letter rested, holding it out towards her.

"A letter from the palace, your Grace."

Her fingers trembled as she reached for the neatly folded parchment, her heart in her throat as she held it in both hands.

"Her Grace, the duch*ess of Peverell."

She entered the drawing room of the palace she was so familiar with through her friendship with the Princess Royal, the newly-married woman awaiting her entrance and getting up to meet her as she came to a halt in front of her. "Oh, Lily," the Princess breathed, pity in her eyes, "I do apologize so. How dreadful you must feel! I tried to reason with papa and mama, but they say favouritism does not do. Even if we are friends, they cannot excuse what has happened without a proper conduct into the nature of the incident."

"I understand," she reassured Mary, taking her hands in his. "I would not want you or your family to risk your good name and standing." She sat down on the sofa next to her friend. "Do you know how he is, though? Is he well?" The vision of James in his holding cell haunted her. Mary had told her that certain parts of the palace were in desperate need of repair, the prison cells being one of them. "I know that his actions were uncalled for, but I do worry -"

"I have arranged for you to see him," her friend interrupted her. "That's why I called you here. I knew that you would be beside yourself and that his mother, too, must be so worried. You will only be allowed half an hour with him, but -" Lily wrapped her friend up in an embrace, quite close to breaking down fully, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Mary," she spoke softly, "you are truly too kind. I would have understood if you would not want anything to do with me any longer -"

"You are my only true friend," Mary's hand squeezed her own. "I am sure that whatever has happened between Lord Malfoy and the Duke is based on a misunderstanding. My cousin said -"

"Your cousin?" Her eyes widened.

"Yes," Mary nodded solemnly, "he was there, apparently. Lord Malfoy wanted your husband to give Amos some advice, seeing as he is travelling to Paris as an envoy -" Lily pulled her hand free form her friend's grip, her ears ringing as she turned away from the royal. "Lily? What is wrong?" She tried to speak, but no sound escaped her, her mouth merely opening and closing again. "You frighten me," her friend added, her hand on her shoulder now. "What has you so troubled?"

"Nothing, I -" she shook her head, eyes on her hands in her lap, which were folded together in a desperate clasp. "I couldn't possibly say -"

"Of course you can!" Mary's grip on her shoulder tightened. "Whatever it is, you do know that you can trust me, do you not? I am always on your side."

Lily let out a laugh that sounded awfully bitter. "Surely," she glanced the Princess Royal's way, "there is a limit to our friendship. Where family is concerned, blood must always win out, must it not?"

Mary's eyes flitted across her face. "What do you mean?" She asked, brow furrowed. "Is this about my cousin's courting you earlier? Has he been horrible about it? You need only say and I will speak to him, tell him that he cannot ruin what you have with the Duke just because he could not have what he had wanted -"

"No," she shook her head, knew that she was blushing furiously, "it's not that. It's not -" She stood from where she had sat perched on the sofa, crossed her arms as she walked over to the window, which overlooked the Buckingham Palace gardens. "I cannot possibly reveal -" She breathed in shakily. "It's not my place, not any of my business -"

"Now," Mary spoke, making her way over to where she stood, "you must understand that youhave to tell me now. You cannot say such things and not expect me to demand that you tell me what you are speaking of." Lily looked at her friend and found that she was a little pale. "He did not do anything to you, did he? Amos did not hurt you -?"

She almost physically recoiled. "Gosh,no," she shook her head vehemently. "It is nothing of the sort, it is just -" she swallowed hard, bit her lip. "You know what was written about James, do you not? How he had fathered a child with a Parisian opera singer?" She let out a heavy sigh. "I do not know how much of the gossip in Lady Whistledown's Society Papers or Lady Skeeter's Scandal Sheet reaches the palace -"

Mary's eyes had widened significantly as she had spoken. "The Duke of Peverell has fathered a bastard?" This question, answered her inquiry.

"He has not," she righted, "although we thought he might have, seeing as - well, you know that men enter a marriage with far more experience than women. Especially when they have gone on a tour of Europe for a year." She cleared her throat. "But we spoke with her, it was... it was Aurélie and -" Her friend gasped audibly, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. "- she told us it wasn't James, that it was someone else instead."

"Who?" Mary's hand fell from her face. "Is it another member of the Ton? Someone we know, or -?"

"Cousin," the voice of Prince Amos interrupted their conversation, the man entering the drawing room without an apparent care in the world, "have you seen -ah, the duch*ess of Peverell, how devastated you must be after the previous night's events. It truly was a moment of unprecedented violence -"

Something must have shown on Lily's face for understanding very obviously dawned on Mary's, a brief, silent interaction confirming the truth behind the question the Princess Royal wished to see confirmed. Once Lily nodded, the dipping of her head barely noticeable, Mary twirled on Prince Amos and said: "You pigeon-livered ratbag!"

"No more than half an hour," spoke the surly-looking guard who escorted her to the palace's dungeons. She nodded eagerly, happy to follow any and all rules that were set as long as she got to see and converse with her husband.

She had left behind Mary, whom had verbally attacked her cousin and surprised the man greatly, seconds after his entering the room. As soon as the Princess Royal had revealed why she was so cross with her cousin, the man in question had paled and very nearly fainted. Clearly, he had as of yet been unaware of his being a parent, of the scandal that licked at his boots like flames of a slowly igniting fire.

Lily would have felt more apologetic about exposing the prince's truth perhaps - his shock was an evidently honest response - if she did not feel for Aurélie as she did, if her husband had not been the one to have been accused of such scandalous behaviour and misconduct in the first place. Not to mention, that she was currently far too preoccupied with the fact that the man she had married resided in a prison cell.

The palace's dungeons were dark and the air felt moist. She had very nearly tripped and slipped as she had made her way down the wobbly stone path that led to the place where she would be reunited with James, but she would not let anything get in the way of her and her husband's reunion. She was certain that she could hear the squeaking of mice that ran about freely in this part of the grand building, but she could not find it in herself to care, her attention fully focused on the barred rooms they passed - each and every one as empty as the next - until they turned one more corner and she was faced with a pacing figure, fingers running through his hair, looking startled for a moment before he made for the bars, hands wrapping around them as he breathed out: "Lily." She rushed forward, vision blurry as her hands folded over his. "Lil, I'm so sorry, I'm -"

"Move away from the bars," the guard spoke firmly, both James and Lily listening to the instructions they were given by nearly jumping apart, her heart thumping in her chest as the door to the cell was unlocked and the guard gestured for him to enter. "No funny business," the man warned, eyes narrowed as she rushed inside, the door closing behind her and the lock turned as her gaze met James' - his wild and fatigued, hers most likely not any more ladylike.

Footsteps receded and soon they found themselves alone, James rushing forward instantly, cupping her face with his hands and wasting not a second before his lips met hers, his kiss so welcome and warm that she clung to him rather desperately, her fingers finding the warm skin of his back, seeing as he had shed his tail coat and cravat, his loose white shirt and breeches the only clothes he wore still. He let out an appreciative noise at her touch, deepened their kiss, his own hands trailing down to her neck, one of them slipping to her lower back as he pulled her up closer against him, her chest now flush against his. She felt - once more - at home in his arms.

"God, Lil," he spoke seconds after they had come up for air, "I -" He had very obviously not slept any more than she had, the dark circles under his eyes and the messy state of his curls giving this fact away. "I have been such a fool," he continued. "I let my anger and frustration get the better of me and now -"

"It matters not," she told him, palms flat against his lower back, "I am sure you had your reasons -"

"I lost my temper, yes," he spoke, his lips now pressed softly and lovingly against her forehead. "It was most certainly not my proudest moment. I quite simply did not think, meant to protect you, to protectus -"

"I know that you would not have struck Lord Malfoy unprovoked," she reassured her husband. "I can only imagine what he might have said, being the brother-in-law of the sister who seems intent to ruin you." She removed her hands from their warm hiding place, moving one of them to rest over his heart, the other to brush a thumb over his strong and sharp jaw. "You are a good man, James," she very nearly whispered, "the very best of them."

"Yet, I find myself locked up," he turned his head, lips catching her thumb which now came to rest over his mouth. "I am not proving myself worthy of you. I agonized all night, wondered what you might think of me -"

"Ithink that this is the last place where you should be," she spoke fervently, he had closed his eyes, a crinkle between his eyebrows. "James, you must know that I am at your side, that I will defend you always, that I love you more than I thought myself capable of loving any other person." He turned again, tugged her closer, held her in his arms like she were the only thing that kept him grounded still. "Iknow you, more than I perhaps know myself, and if there is one thing I am certain of, it is that there are few reasons why you would have acted as you did and all of them are honourable." Her declaration was followed by silence, she letting her cheek rest over his heart, the steady beat of it, calming her down significantly.

"They will put me on trial," he whispered against the top of her hair. "The Peverell name might be forever tainted, because of my behaviour the other night. I should not have done what I did, even if at the time I felt a surge of satisfaction as I saw Lord Malfoy fall back in Mr Snape's arms, loudly complaining that his nose was broken."

His words provided a glimpse into the previous night's events that she had not yet been privy to. Rumours had run wild and she did know there had been a physical altercation, but other than that little had been revealed. She had no doubt, however, that the next edition of Lady Skeeter's Scandal Sheets would reveal a much exaggerated account of her husband's actions.

"It will all blow over," she told James, stepping away from him just slightly, so she could look him in the eye. "Once you are out of here and the Crown has declared you a free man, we'll make for Gryffindor Palace and stay there for as long as we need to." His hands found hers and their fingers intertwined. "Perhaps some time out of the Ton's sight is exactly what we need."

He smiled, squeezed her fingers with his own. "I suppose we do thrive in the countryside."

The look in his eyes left nothing to the imagination and a shiver ran up her spine, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as a blush stained her cheeks. "There will be work to be done, too," she told him to which he scoffed. "You cannot disappoint your tenants, I need to master the art of running a household as large as your estate. We might need to refurbish some of the rooms -"

He laughed. "Here I thought that the Peverell fortune would be safe now that my mother is no longer the one to decide we need new wallpaper in every room of the house every few months."

Her stomach fluttered, butterflies moving to and fro as nerves tickled up her throat. "I was thinking -" she started, swallowing hard, but forcing herself to keep her eyes on him, "- I meant to say that there is one room in particular we might wish to pay some attention to -"

The look in his eyes grew fond. "Lily, love, I do not care. You can change it all. I will leave it up to your discretion as long as some of the Gryffindor colours remain -"

"No, James," her interruption was rather abrupt, causing his forehead to crease just slightly. Her face warmed some more. "I love Gryffindor Palace, I would not change a thing if not for... well..." she disentangled her one hand from his, took his arm by the wrist, guided his hand towards her stomach. "I suppose it's the nursery that I would like to make some changes to, seeing as we may be in need of it sooner rather than later."

For a moment his eyes merely sought her face, but then he stepped closer, removed his other hand from her grasp and placed it on her stomach as well. "You mean -?"

"Yes," she was out of breath for it. "I know it is soon and unplanned, but -"

He laughed so loudly that it startled her. "You are with child?" He asked, beaming down on her. "We are to be parents?" She could only nod before he moved to kiss her again, a dozen pecks to her lips, followed by a nearly dazed: "How dreadful that I am in prison now that I receive the happiest of news," he pulled back to look at her, tucking a stray strand of her auburn hair behind her ear. "Imagine what Sirius might have to say about it, what he might write in his latest issue of Lady Whistledown when he finds out." There was a beat of silence, his expression radiating such warmth that she thought she might melt on the spot. “I am the luckiest of men. What did I do to deserve you?”

“How could it be too soon when I have loved you for as long as I have known you? When I want nothing more than to start a family with you? To grow old together?”

He always knew exactly what to say, exactly what she wanted or needed to hear. The power he had over her was greater than she could ever have imagined anyone having. She reached up, stood on her tiptoes, her lips pressed softly against his as she got lost in him, in the world they had created together, one that they would soon be expanding, another person - half her, half him - added. She never wished to lose what they had now, never wanted to live in a world without him. She had had a taste of that for a number of years and she never wished to go back. With him at her side, she would never be alone again.

He just needed to come back to her now, to be released from this holding cell and she thought she knew just how to make this happen. After all, the quill is much mightier than the sword ever will be.