tequila ; s. paulson one - shots

specter (w. venable)

victorian age au

Securing the corset around your waist with great care, you pulled on the dark coat that hung on your bedpost. You stared out of the gilded window as you tied your dark hair back. Assuming the appearance of a man allowed you to accomplish more as compared to if you wore dresses like all the other women you were acquainted with.

"Miss Rachel is here to see you, my Lady," your housekeeper informed you respectfully, not daring to step over the threshold of your chambers. "Please inform her I shall be down in a moment."

Your dark-haired schoolmate stood staring at the painting that hung above the mantel, lost deep in thought as you descended the staircase. Her hands seemed to be outwardly conveying emotions she could not bear to speak out loud, twisting the hem of her lace gloves. "What do you need?"

"My aunt requires your services, and she wishes to see you as soon as possible," she muttered nervously. You tilted your head to the right, trying to detect any traces of deception or underlying mockery in her face, "What services would she be pertaining to?"

"She was seeking an escort to an event tomorrow night, and I informed her that you were my escort to various gatherings whilst we were still studying, and now she wishes to meet you."

"Did you inform her of the reason I escorted you to those gatherings?" you questioned, staring her directly in her brown eyes, "Did you happen to mention to her my ulterior motives?"

She nodded tentatively, shamefully, almost, "I also told her that you were only willing to escort me due to the supernatural energy present in those venues. She seemed to think it not a problem, and spoke of a specter that supposedly lurks in the hostess' household."

"When is she expecting me?" you inquired, running your bare hand over the dusty mantel. "She sent me to fetch you. I believe she is expecting you for lunch."

"Under what name is she expecting me?"

"I never spoke of any," she replied hurriedly, "except your surname."

"Let us keep it that way, shall we? She needs not know I am a woman. Hannah, would you kindly fetch my gloves?"

Staring at you with a curious expression as you pulled the black gloves securely around your ringed fingers, Rachel nodded before you spoke again, "In the unlikely event she requires my given name, you shall not refer to me as anyone but Sebastian Davonius. I would not wish for her to be apprehensive in my company upon learning that her escort is also a woman."

"Shall we depart then, Mr. Davonius?"

"I believe it is more appropriate for me to be asking that rather than if it were you, Miss Venable."

"Oh, if you don't mind, please do not call me that," she protested, "That happens to be what my aunt is addressed as, and I, as you very well know, am not my aunt."

"I am required to maintain a certain level of formality in assuming the identity and title of a man, am I not?" you replied with a raised eyebrow, allowing her to slip her arm into the crook of yours as both of you walked out to where a carriage was waiting. "Of course you are, but I do not wish to be my aunt either."

"Then let us compromise, I shall be Mr. Sebastian and you shall be Miss Rachel. In order to both maintain the formality and not put you in an undesirable position, of course."

"I think that is a much better arrangement than addressing each other by our surnames," Rachel laughed lightly as the carriage doors were shut. "Would you care to remind me why you and your aunt share your surname?"

"My father is her brother, which means that regardless of who he married, his children would have the surname Venable."

You nodded, signifying comprehension of this information, "That does make a certain amount of sense."