Crimson peak re-telling (Reader x Tomas Sharpe)

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A Family Picnic

Your father's proposition had not left your mind since the morning of his return. Now, a few days later, you sat in your room, writing, barely thinking of the words your hand was aimlessly scrawling across the blank pages. You suddenly heard a knock on the door from downstairs and cocked your head to the side, wondering who would be calling on you in the middle of the day.

You listened as Margaret answered the door. You heard low rumblings of voices and then Margaret's telltale climb up the stairs and to your door. You laid down your silver pen and turned expectantly towards the door.

When she knocked, you welcomed her in. She wore a smile that would befit a child who had stolen some cookies out of the cookie jar without permission.

"There's someone here for you, miss," you teased. "A Sir Thomas Sharpe."

She watched your reaction carefully, but you would not oblige her with giddiness. You simply stood, trying to master the butterflies in your stomach and thanked her for the information. She frowned, hoping for a more cheerful reaction, but led the way downstairs.

Again you were struck by the beauty that Thomas exuded. It was not only his sharp features and piercing eyes, but the way he held himself. He seemed to be much wiser and mature than his age would suggest. He was standing in the foyer, clutching his hat nervously in his hands and talking to your father. Oh no. You rushed down the rest of the stairs, careful not to push Margaret over as you moved her out of your way. Leaving your father alone with the man you had admitted to liking was a terrible idea. He probably would propose marriage for the two of you right there and you were sure you'd die of embarrassment that very moment. Thankfully as you got into ear shot you heard that they were simply discussing Thomas' business in England.

"Ah, there you are," you father welcomed you warmly with an energy you had not seen in a long time. "Sir Sharpe here was just informing me on his business plans back home."

"Thomas, please," Thomas corrected him with a small smile. "My lady," he nodded a greeting to you.

"Thomas," you greeted, your voice shakier with nerves than you would have liked.

Your father and Margaret shared a glance and a smile that neither escaped, nor pleased you. They were acting like school children trying to get their two friends to kiss beneath the mistletoe.

"What brings you to our house this afternoon?" you asked.

"My sister and I were wondering if you would like to join us on a picnic. I apologize for not sending word earlier, but it was not planned. I would understand if you would rather not--"

"No, please," you cut him off almost too eagerly. You smiled and took a breath. "I would love to join the two of you."

Thomas nodded and smiled genuinely. You could feel your father beaming at you. Avoiding his gaze, you moved to get your coat. It was the beginning of fall, but as you wrapped yourself inside the coat, you were thankful for the barrier between you and the man who may soon enough become your husband.

Thomas shook your fathers hand and held his arm out to you. You walked towards him and his hand settled on the small of your back, making your legs feel weaker than they should. You scorned him for making you feel these weak feelings and yet here you were, enjoying the tingling in your back where his hand lay.

"Take care of her," your father tried to sound casual, but you knew the meaning of his words.

"On my life," Thomas responded more to you than your father.

Thomas led you out into the crisp air and towards a waiting carriage. Through the glass you could see an outline of a woman sitting absolutely still, almost as though she were a painted silhouette. Thomas opened the door for you and you carefully stepped inside. You took the seat across from the woman, taking her in. Her features echoed that of her brother's. Her sharp countenance and penetrating eyes were similar, but not as welcoming. She wore an extravagant black dress. Your eyes followed down her laced sleeves to the red ring that lay on her left hand.