Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
❝love you right❞ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"DO WE HAVE A VISITOR, ESME?"
Eleanor's heels click on the old floors of the gambling room at the Shelby household, and the two women facing off turn to look at her. She slides her cap off her head and tucks the brim into her pocket, close to her person.
"This woman says Mr. Shelby gave her this address," Esme's voice is light but wary, and Eleanor smirks slightly as she eyes May Carleton, letting the woman stew in uncertainty. "Told her it was a gambling den. I told her that you and Mr. Shelby have proper meetings in your office."
"Yes, you're quite right, Esme," Eleanor nods, laying a hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "But Ms. Carleton here is a special case."
The regal-looking woman shifts on her feet, intimidated and hesitant in the wake of Eleanor's presence. "Yes, I'm– I'm a bit early, I suppose I could go wait in the car."
"If I open the door again, they'll all want in," Esme rolls her eyes, pocketing the keys and turning away now that Eleanor has arrived and given her the all-clear. "Like flies."
"So, what are you?"
Eleanor leans against a column in the shop, watching May attempt to navigate through the interactions with Esme.
"What am I?" May repeats confusedly.
"To Thomas and Eleanor." Because Esme is quite smart when she wants to be, and she has long since learned that the two do not exist separately.
Esme moves around the shop with the paybooks in her hands, voice light and airy, deceptively oblivious but still prodding. Eleanor has no sense of naivety, at least not in the face of another woman who plays the game so well, as they have to do.
"I–I'm going to train his racehorse for Epsom."
Esme pauses, glancing at Eleanor before looking back to May. "You know horses?"
May turns away from Eleanor's piercing look, not quite a glare, but not showing any discernible emotion. "Yes. You?"
"Born riding. I slept in a manger when I was a baby."
"I was born riding, too,"
The door swings open before Esme can continue the polite conversation, and Eleanor's eyes fall to John as he swings it shut behind him, already running his mouth. "There's a fucking great Riley parked out there and nobody's watching it."
"John," Eleanor calls his name as he crosses the room to drop the bags of coins onto the desk, stopping in front of May, sparing no polite distance as he peers down at the woman. "This is the woman who's going to train Tommy's horse."
