Cold All the Way Through, But Warming

Useless

Oscar could never get quite used to British weather, New York weather was by no means pleasant this time of year but at least it was constant. The weather here changed on a whim, first raining, then windy, then cold enough to make the rain freeze before a dusting of snow covered everything. It was enough to make him carry an umbrella everywhere, and he shook off the afternoon rain and slush before knocking on the door and following Penelope into the Featherstone home.

She pursed her lips at his wet coat, "You'd better hang that up, otherwise you'll be joining Father."

"Is he doing better?" Oscar inquired, glancing towards the stairs. Nigel had been laid low by a bout of pneumonia, fortunately a mild case but it had quickly sapped his strength. Penelope had been turned into a nurse, as well as her other work.

In fact, she looked rather strained. "Oh yes, but he's not fully recovered. He spends most of the day sleeping, to be honest."

"And you?" Oscar raised a brow, "You look rather haggard, Pen."

He saw her lips twitch at the nickname. "I am perfectly alright."

"You look like you're about to fall over," Oscar chuckled, pulling his coat off to hang. "Go sit down and I'll bring you something."

She hesitated, her blue eyes darting. "I really shouldn't."

"Pen," He reached into his coat pocket, "Go, I brought presents and I would like it to be a surprise." She blushed, ducked her head, and disappeared into the parlor. Oscar grabbed everything he needed, made sure she wasn't looking, and stepped into the kitchen. He smirked to himself as he got everything ready, his consultation with his cook was going to pay dividends.

He managed to not burn himself while boiling water, transferring it to the nicest tea pot he could find and adding the finest tea to it. He had prowled through every dealer he could think of and bought at least a dozen packets with him. He had picked one that was floral yet full bodied, and he was praying Penelope liked it.

He knew she would like the ungodly amount of teatime sweets he piled the plates with as well as the fresh cream and fine sugar. Oscar organized everything on a tea tray, hefted it into his arms, and then made his way to the parlor. Penelope immediately looked to him, "Oh, you didn't have to."

"I did, Pen. You desperately needed cheering up and a distraction." He set the tray down. "Cream and sugar?"

She nodded, "You don't have to call me that, you know. My name is perfectly sufficient."

"And it's a lovely name," Oscar handed her a cup. "But I have to admit I do enjoy having a nickname for you, I doubt you let the other boys get away with that."

The color on her cheek had nothing to do with the heat of the tea, "There aren't many other boys, you know."

"But there will be," Oscar poured his own cup. He preferred a much more astringent blend, or better yet coffee, but he couldn't complain, not when the company was so delightful. "I'm quite sure after the war they'll be lining up around the block to sit down to tea with you. I should just consider myself lucky I managed it first."

"And you'll have every girl after you." She spoke quietly, "Once you get back to New York."

Oscar shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. "But you'll be coming over, at least some time! My family, if they haven't disowned me, would be glad to host you." He smiled, then shook his head. "And your father, of course. You both deserve to get shown a good time after everything you've done over here."

Penelope smiled at him, and he couldn't help but notice how the corner of her eyes crinkled and made the light in them dance. "And my hypothetical fiancé?"