Promiscuity • a.u • Robbie Kay

~Twenty~

I was shaking.

Whether that be from the cold wind that whipped around our cheeks and noses, turning them bright pink, as well as making conversation nearly impossible to hear, or the sheer nervousness that gripped me as I sat in the car, hardly uttering a word.

I didn't mind not speaking. Some people thrived on conversation, relied on it like a pair of wings taking them from one place to another, whereas I was perfectly fine with walking. Despite how lonely that grew to be, not many people realized that you notice things more closely when you're on the ground.

The air burned my lungs, breaths were shallow and unsatisfying, but only one thing resided in my mind. Or rather, only one someone.

I didn't know if I could ever tell Arthur of the way I'd fallen for Robbie, or that his touch had once been so familiar to me. I didn't know if it would break him, or delight him to know that in the end, he was the one I chose. He was the one I was going to marry, not Mr. Kay.

The passing buildings became more frequent and soon we were in town, people walking together along the street. We stopped, the car engine shutting off as Varney and Emory left the back seat in which I was still sitting. Arthur hopped out of the driver's seat, opening my door and holding his hand out for me.

"Goodness, your hand are ice, my dear. Had you not thought to bring mittens or are you immune to such weather?" he smirked, rubbing both of my hands and blowing hot breaths on them in attempt to warm them.

"I hadn't even noticed." I responded half jokingly, though there was truth in my words. I had barely noticed anything in the past hour.

"It's exciting to know I'm not only marrying the prettiest girl in all of England, but the toughest as well." he said, not letting go of my hands. I couldn't help but giggle a bit, as I so rarely did, especially since I could hardly stand the word.

"Flattery will get you everywhere." I stated, rather pompously.

"I'm already where I want to be, darling." he kissed the back of my hand once before allowing it to fall to my side, though our fingers remained laced together. "Have you got the things we're bringing the bastard?" he asked Varney. Even though he joked, I wondered if that was truly how he felt about him.

"Emory, have you-" Varney started.

"Yes, pet." she stated, almost annoyed. "I heard him perfectly."

We made our way up the stone steps to the glass door with gold lettering across the top. It read a few names I probably couldn't pronounce, but judging by many wooden desks visible through the window, it looked like the place we might find Mr. Kay.

We entered the building and the pungent odor of cigar smoke was incredibly evident, but the stove in the corner of the room made it quite warm, which I was grateful for. My eyes darted along the many faces in the room, but I didn't recognize any of them to be Mr. Kay.

"Do you have an appointment to see anyone?" a short little man approached us upon arrival, but didn't seem terribly happy that we'd come in.

"We're looking for a Mr. Robbie Kay, he's been down here nearly every day this week working plans for a country home." Varney said, glancing about the room in hopes to find his friend.

The little man looked confused, but turned and glanced about the room as well. "It doesn't sound familiar, but I will check." he said before, pacing off toward another room tucked away in the same corner as the stove.

"Perhaps we have the wrong place. Are you sure this is where he told you he'd been coming?" Arthur asked Varney.

"I'm certain. He told me just yesterday. I recognized the names on the door." he said perplexedly.