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"Mr Shelby? Hi." Rowan stepped into the living room in Ada's nightgown that was a little longer than it would've been on Ada. It was pink silk that maintained the same volume all the way down to the floor where it piled a little at the bottom because she was smaller than the person it was made for. It was so soft on Rowan's skin but she grew cold with only that to keep her warm, so she kept her cardigan on to shield her arms from the ever-growing cold. It's not like they had central heating in the 1920s.
She saw Mr Shelby staring at the fireplace and since it was 7:58 she decided to head in and see him. "You're early." He said, looking at his pocket watch and then over at Rowan. He admired the gown she wore but soon recognised she was cold with nothing that to cover her. Tommy took off his coat and handed it to her, it's body heat from Tommy being transported to Rowan. "Thank you." She felt a little uncomfortable in the man's coat as it was a very powerful part of him. She could imagine the people he had terrified with his coat as it splayed behind him when he walked. It was a recognisable piece of his wardrobe.
"Sit." He motioned to the seat beside him and she sat hesitantly and folded her legs. He watched her all the while, her shyness flooding through in how understated she was trying to make her actions. She didn't want his attention; in fact, she'd rather if she didn't have any attention at all. "What do you sing?" "W-...well I doubt I know anything that you like because... well I wouldn't have heard of it. So whatever I sing, you won't know it. It probably won't be realised until about 100 years forward." She met eyes with him and almost fainted from the intensity of the blue. They had little touches of green she hadn't noticed before but every colour in his eyes were cold. Rowan's eyes were green with hints of blue, strands of the warm sky that held no coldness at all. It was all warmth.
"Sing whatever."
"Okay... happy or sad?" Tommy went silent for a moment and thought of her, the Irish blonde that still owned his heart. When he had asked her to sing, and she had asked that same question. He wanted a sad song then, and he still did now. "Sad." Rowan nodded and looked at the fire, breathing heavily out of nervousness. She felt this was a test from the Peaky Blinder. There was something behind this and she didn't know what. It scared her. She hadn't had singing lessons since she was 15 or so, and she tried to remember everything her amazing teacher had told her. "Erm... I think I have something."
"Stand up, by the fire." He said, in his usually gruff voice. He took a sip of his whisky and watched her stand and walk to where he wanted her. He could admire all of her from this point of view, and he hoped he could admire her voice.
She coughed before beginning to sing and the voice that broke from her throat was a husky rich tone. A golden voice that her singing teacher had once described her as having a voice that was like hot chocolate. It resonated a sweetness like honey and Tommy's face morphed into pleasure at the words she sang.
Rowan wasn't sure why the Frank Sinatra song was what was picked, she hadn't listened to it for a while as she spent a lot of time listening to classical music, but they were wordless so she could hardly sing them. Tommy's face had become solid, there was no movement or expression at all. "Where... where did you learn to sing like that?"
"I erm... I had a teacher about 7 years ago. That song was my dads favourite, we sung it in the lessons all the time. He said it suited my voice." He still couldn't quite believe the beauty and rawness of the voice she sung with. It had been so purely stunning and he couldn't take his eyes off her for any reason. There was no valid reason for him to ever tear his eyes away. "Do- did you not-... like it?" Tommy stood up and walked towards her, Rowan grew fearful and stepped back. She stopped when she felt the heat of the fire grow and knew if she stepped back more then the nightgown would probably catch fire knowing her luck. Tommy stopped inches from her and for a moment all was silent apart from their breathing. "Go to bed." He muttered and sniffed while he turned away and waited for Rowan to remove herself from the room.
He picked up his glass of whisky and drunk from it as he heard the stairs creak while she ran to her room. He threw the glass into the fire, it amplifying the flames from the alcohol inside of it. The smash caused Sandra the maid to come in and see what had happened. "Go to your room, Sandra." The maid nodded and rushed away. Tommy sat and smoked, thinking of his lost love. He had received a letter earlier that night that Grace would be remarrying some rich American. To break Tommy's heart further, she was apparently pregnant. He sat and he cried, silently and with no whimpers but silent tears. He stared at the fire and felt the warmth of the flames on his eyes as they watered more.
He got up and wiped his face of tears, heading out with a different coat.
