HIS II | Arthur Morgan x Reader

Perfidy

"I'm sorry dear but Tris is busy tonight."

"Busy? She's five years old what do you mean busy? I want to see her, it's not right I should be with her! I heard her yell, what's going on why are you keeping up apart?"

"Please calm down, you'll wake the baby. Maybe you can see her tomorrow?"

Jack flops back down onto the bed, bouncing an overly stuffed pillow to the floor.

"I have a right to see her."

"Of course, you do dear, just not tonight, okay? I'll ask again tomorrow." the maid pulls the door closed behind her and locks it, pressing her head against the wood she breathes out a deep sigh, smoothing down her apron before she turns down the hall to answer the door.

Downstairs Mary checks herself in the hallway mirror, frowning one last time at the sodden ends of her dress.

"Oh Miss, I've got it!"

"No need it's fine. Could you prepare me some tea?"

The maid notes the slight catch in her voice and is about to ask if she's okay but thinks better of it, already having had enough scolding's tonight. Nodding her head she makes her way to the kitchen slowly, curious as to who would be calling at such a late hour.

"You're earl-Jamie? What're you? Why are you?"

"Happy to see you too sister." He smiles, opening his arms to her but she continues to blink at him. "I'm sorry it's late, my train was behind, but I figured after so long the time wouldn't matter." His arms still hang awkwardly. "Surprise, I guess?"

Her eyes dart quickly behind him before slowly stepping into his arms her one hand still on the door.

"It's so good to see you. Your dress is wet, are you alright? Did I catch you at a bad time?"

A beat passes before she remembers he asked her a question.

"Hmm? No- I mean yes, I just... Oh you know, silly maid spilled a pot."

"Well can we go in? We've so much to catch up on."

Upstairs a door slams, followed by the slapping of bare feet hurrying across the bare tile.

"Now's not really a good time, you know the maid has made a mess and...I-it's late." She edges the door closed slowly but Jamie presses his hand against the wood.

"Mary are you okay?"

"It's fine I'm-."

"I'M GOING TO FIND DADDY!"

"Mary, who is that?"

"Jamie wait, I-."

He forces himself by her, just as Tris rounds the curved staircase, her feet teetering to a stop on the bottom step.

Removing his hat, he crouches down. "Hey there what's your name?"

Her hand still on the banister she glances over to Mary who shakes her head slightly.

"Jamie, I can-."

He holds up his hand to silence her, his eyes still on the little girl. "It's okay, my name is Jamie, can you tell me yours?"

Setting her chin up she thrusts her hand out defiantly just like her Momma had shown her, "Charlotte Beatrice Morgan, but everyone calls me Tris."

Coughing away a choke Jamie shakes her hand, "Pleased to meet you, Miss Tris. Would you mind giving me and my sister a moment? I need to speak with her."

"I'm off to find my daddy."

"I'm sure you are, but how about you wait in the kitchen, and then we can talk about finding your daddy."

Satisfied with the new man's commitment to helping her, she scowls at Mary, before swinging from the stairs and stomping off down the hall.

Waiting for the blond curls to disappear around the corner he whips around to his sister.

"Do you want to tell me who the hell that is?" he struggles to keep his voice to a whisper.

"Jamie I can explain."

"You better, because I thought you and Arthur were done?"

"We are, she's-."

He begins to pace from side to side, "Why didn't you write, I could have- Jesus how long has it been Mary?" he stops wiping his hands over his brow. "She's got to be what four?"

"Five."

"Five." He throws his hands up pacing once again, "And where is Arthur?"

Genuinely unable to answer that she shrugs suddenly fascinated by the nonexistent dirt under her nails.

"Mary, how could you let this happen? Pa would be turning in his grave if he knew. I've got to say I thought better of Arthur, but I guess Pa was right, he's an outlaw through and through. Oh, Mary, I'm sorry, with all you've been going through." He rakes his hand through his hair his feet still scuffing across the tiles, "She looks so much like him, I can't believe it." Stopping finally, he makes himself take a deep breath and takes Mary's hands. "If you want me to kill him I will."

Mary has to bite her lip at his threat, prying her hands free, "No, no Jamie. It's okay I'm fine. We're fine." She opens the door gesturing for him to leave, "But she is in the middle of an awful tantrum so can we do this another time?"

"But Mary, it's been five years. Don't you want-?"

"Another time."

"Very well, I guess I'll call around tomorrow and we can chat then?"

"No bother, I'll come to find you, where are you staying?"

"Well, I was hoping... but I see you have your hands full now." He steps into the light of the streetlamp, realizing his sister already has the door half-closed, "I'll check into the Bastille."

"Very good."

"Mary." He places his hand firmly on the door. "Your last letter came from the hospital, it really didn't sound like you, I feared something had happened, was it him?"

"Oh, I'd forgotten about that. No no, everything is fine. Goodnight, Jamie, it was good to see you." She closes the door before he can say goodbye.

Frowning up at the house Jamie places his hat back on his head, shoving his hands into his pocket he begins walking around the corner and towards the Bastille. Lost in his thoughts he misses the man, their shoulders colliding painfully under the dim streetlight.

"Watch it!"

"My apologies sir, I wasn't paying attention."

The man just grunts and continues on his way, mumbling something about "god damn city filth' while he flicks a cigarette to the ground and straightens his hat.

A/N: Are you all as pissed off at Mary as I am right now?