the art of loving ; lord tewksbury

twenty-one

"You know, I'm starting to think I'm a bad influence on you. First the bar and now you're being cunning? We should probably stop seeing each other."

Chapter Twenty-One

  May 3, 1882
Two Years Ago

"Goodness, Daisy! You're going to wake the whole damn neighbourhood if you keep at it," Grant hissed as he waited at the bottom of the stairs. His sister padded down the steps as softly as she could, but the soles of her feet slapping against the wooden boards betrayed her intentions. Upon reaching the very last step, she let out a huff.

"Sorry!" she remarked in a whisper. "It's not like I've ever snuck out before!"

Grant rolled his eyes and pressed his pointer finger against his lips, signalling her to keep quiet. He motioned for her to follow him as they tiptoed to the front of the house, all the while being cautious as to not make a sound. Daisy's heart pounded ferociously in her chest as she watched her brother twist the doorknob. Her eyes travelled back and forth from the front door to the stairs, silently praying that their father hadn't heard a thing. She gulped nervously at the thought of her father bounding downstairs furiously and punishing them. Well, her. He would never hurt Grant. She willed the unpleasant imagery from her mind and focused on her brother again.

Eventually, Grant managed to pull the door open without its hinges squeaking to expose their escape. Once they successfully slipped outside and shut the door behind them with minimal noise, the siblings let out a breath of relief. They faced each other, both immediately breaking into wide grins.

"That was exhilarating!" Daisy cheered as they walked down the stone path leading away from their home. "Thank you for letting me tag along!"

"I didn't let you tag along, you practically blackmailed me to let you follow!" her brother groaned.

  Daisy giggled. It was true, after all. Ever since she found out Grant had been sneaking out past his curfew, she had begged him non-stop to bring her along. He always refused, saying that if she got caught she'd be in deep trouble. Still, it didn't stop her from trying.

When Daisy found a stash of sonnets her brother had written about a particular village girl he fancied, it was kismet. Fate. He had hidden it beneath the loose floorboard under his bed, a secret spot Daisy had stumbled upon on when she was collecting laundry in his room one day. They were cheesy and romantic and embarrassing.

What would happen if they were mailed out?

That would be tragic, wouldn't it?

She thanked the universe for being on her side.

And it worked. She remembered the apple of her brother's cheeks turning a rosy pink when he realised she had discovered his prized possession. He eventually caved into her endless pleading—with the extra help of the sonnets as leverage, of course—and agreed to take her along on one of his late night adventures.

Though to be honest, Daisy wouldn't have sent them out. She wouldn't betray her own brother like that, but it was fun to play pretend evil once in a while.

"Where are we going?" Daisy asked as they strolled out of the village, following a path which led to town.

"Everything is pretty much closed for the night," Grant told her. "Why don't you choose, birthday girl?"