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a certain step towards falling in love

Chapter 4: headstrong, foolish girl

Summary:

Privately, she knows that Ramone is far too agreeable and mild-mannered to suit her. She likes a bit of push and pull in her relationships; someone to bicker with and discuss books and politics; someone with a wit to match her own. She wants a partner, not a companion. For some reason, her mind flashes to John Smith and she pushes it away with a scowl, wondering why she’d think of him now of all times.

Notes:

In which there is a proposal, a refusal, and an acceptance.

Chapter Text

“I will speak to her about it directly. She is a very headstrong, foolish girl, and does not know her own interest but I will make her know it.”

- Pride and Prejudice, Chapter Twenty


Breakfast at Pond House the following morning is a quiet affair, with each and every person around the table quietly nursing a headache due to an overindulgence in champagne and dancing the night before. Melody suffers more than most, considering she’d had plenty to drink as she hid from Ramone and even more once she’d lost sight of John Smith after their bewildering dance. Head pounding, she clutches her teacup in both hands and flinches every time she hears the scrape of cutlery against a plate.

 

Pale and droopy-eyed, Amy stares silently into her porridge. With her head down on the table, Clara appears to be actually asleep and even Aunt Tabetha doesn’t seem to have the energy to be her usual self this morning. Melody had expected to endure much gloating about how Mr. Williams had passed most of the ball at Amy’s side but instead, Tabetha only eats in silence. Every now and then she winces as though the very act of chewing pains her.

 

No one looks up when Ramone enters the room. When he doesn’t take a seat, instead simply standing beside the table and fidgeting, Melody finally glances at him. He looks perfectly well, fresh as a bloody daisy. His suit is pressed, his hair is slicked back neatly, and his beard is impeccably groomed. Honestly, the man is too pretty to be a real person. Melody suppresses a sigh of boredom and turns her attention back to her tea.

 

“Good morning.” Ramone clears his throat. “I wondered if you all might give me a moment alone with Melody.”

 

Breath catching, Melody jerks her head up again. Her stomach rebels at the sudden movement and she exhales shakily, pressing her fingertips to her mouth in an effort to quell the nausea. “Sorry,” she manages, her voice a panicked wheeze. “What?”

 

Either oblivious to her anxiety or determined to ignore it, Tabetha merely beams and stands so quickly her hangover must have miraculously disappeared. She moves as though her headache has been lifted entirely, just by the prospect of a proposal. And there is no doubt in Melody’s mind that is exactly what Ramone has planned. There is no other reason to need an audience alone with her. Her nausea spikes once more.

 

“Of course,” Tabetha says, yanking on Amy’s arm to pull her up and away. Amy exchanges a alarmed glance with Melody. “Everybody out. Let’s give dear Ramone and Melody some privacy.”

 

“There’s no need for that,” Melody protests. Her heart feels as though it’s in her throat and her stomach keeps heaving dangerously. She feels very certain that if everyone abandons her to handle Ramone on her own, she will end up emptying the entire contents of her feeble stomach into the potted plant in the corner. “Whatever Mr. Collins has to say to me can be said in front of everyone.”

 

Tabetha shoves Amy from the room with an airy, “Nonsense.”

 

She marches determinedly back into the room for poor Clara, shaking her awake roughly. Giving up when Clara only groans in protest, she huffs and tugs her bodily from her chair with the strength of a woman half her age. Still half asleep, Clara stumbles and nearly falls. “What the buggering-”

 

“Language,” Tabetha chides, ushering her out of the dining room. She turns, eyeing her husband sharply. “Augustus?”

 

Melody stares helplessly at her uncle, silently pleading with him. Stay, she mouths.

 

Newspaper folded under his arm, Augustus frowns in silent apology. Avoiding Melody’s desperate gaze, he rises slowly from the table and follows everyone else out of the room. Melody glares after him, feeling inexplicably betrayed. The last thing she sees before the doors to the dining room click shut is Amy’s white face peering at her from behind her mother. Eyes wide, she mouths, Sorry. And then the doors close, shutting Melody inside with Ramone.

 

Thoroughly abandoned, she clenches her hands in her lap and fumes.

 

Oblivious as ever to the atmosphere around him, Ramone rounds the table and approaches her. Melody stares resolutely at the door, willing it to open again. She tenses as he stops beside her and bends down on one knee. The moment he does, she wants to bury her head in her hands out of embarrassment for him. Oh honestly, she wants to snarl. Get up before you make an even bigger fool of yourself. She breathes in and doesn’t exhale, biting down hard on her tongue.

 

“Melody Pond,” he says, gazing up at her. Melody glances at him out of the corner of her eye and finds him staring up at her in worshipful fascination, like a sinner supplicating before a vengeful god. She turns abruptly to stare at the door again. She can’t recall a single instant where she’d ever encouraged him to think she might welcome him looking at her like that. “I hope you won’t think me too bold when I tell you that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever beheld. You’re clever and kind and when you are on my arm, I am the envy of the room.”

 

Melody clenches her teeth, nostrils flaring.

 

Ignorant of her derision, Ramone keeps talking. “I believe you would make a wonderful companion and I know such an arrangement would benefit you as well, considering the unfortunate circumstances surrounding your uncle’s estate once he passes on.”

 

When Melody risks another glance at him, he beams up at her. Lord but he is very pretty. For a brief moment, she lets herself imagine what a life as Ramone Collins’ wife would be like. She imagines marrying him and moving away from her family to take charge of his household as its mistress. She imagines becoming the neighbor of Lady Kovarian and inviting the woman over for tea. She imagines the same dull conversation every night at the dinner table and even more dull nights between the sheets. She imagines bearing Ramone’s pretty babes and raising them to marry equally respectable, boring partners.

 

In the span of a few seconds, her entire future with Ramone flashes before her eyes and the complete and utter lack of excitement, romance, or love terrifies her to her core. “It’s a lovely offer, Ramone,” she says, lying through her teeth. “When you take possession of Pond House in the future, you can do so without guilt knowing you gave me an opportunity to save my place here by asking for my hand.”

 

The broad grin slips from his face. “Are you… Am I to understand you are refusing me?”

 

“I am.”

 

“But…” His brow furrows. “I can offer you stability. A home. A future.”

 

Melody forces a smile, pushing from her mind images of the very future his offer conjures. “That may well be true but I’m quite convinced you’re not the sort of man who would make me happy, Ramone, and I’m certain I could never make you happy either.”

 

Privately, she knows that Ramone is far too agreeable and mild-mannered to suit her. She likes a bit of push and pull in her relationships; someone to bicker with and discuss books and politics; someone with a wit to match her own. She wants a partner, not a companion. For some reason, her mind flashes to John Smith and she pushes it away with a scowl, wondering why she’d think of him now of all times. But perhaps it makes a bit of sense… She may hate the man but he’s never been boring. For every insult he’s ever given her, she can name twice as many times he’s very nearly made her laugh.

 

With a frown, Ramone rises slowly to his feet. “I don’t understand,” he says. “I thought you would be overjoyed at such an offer.”

 

“I’m not really a marriage-minded girl, Mr. Collins.” Melody shrugs, smiling at him. “It will take far more than a proposal from a man I don’t love to satisfy me.”

 

He nods slowly, still looking puzzled. “If you change your mind…”

 

“I won’t,” she assures him firmly. “But thank you.”

 

Deciding to leave before things get even more awkward than they already are, Melody rises from the breakfast table and moves quickly toward the doors like something is at her heels. She pushes the doors open and steps out into the corridor, scowling when she finds the entire family hovering outside in an effort to eavesdrop.

 

Augustus straightens from his disinterested slouch against the wall, watching her with an anxious furrow in his brow. Amy and Clara hover at his side, clutching each other and staring at her like they’re waiting for terrible news. It’s clear by the hopeful expression on Tabetha’s face that she hadn’t heard enough of their conversation to make heads or tails of it. Bracing herself, Melody addresses them all wearily. “He asked for my hand.”

 

Tabetha lights up like a candle in the dark.

 

“I said no.”

 

Without waiting for a reaction, Melody pushes past them all and stalks off down the corridor. Behind her, she hears Tabetha shriek, “You what?

 

Just as Melody reaches the front door and steps outside, she hears the echoing peals of laughter as Amy and Clara break into helpless giggles. The door slams shut on Tabetha’s frantic apologies to poor, jilted Ramone. Melody pauses only briefly to draw in a gulp of fresh air, letting the wind tumble her curls into her eyes and whip her skirts around her legs. She stares out at the beautiful, green expanse of land around Leadworth, infinitely grateful there is a whole unknown future spread out before her that has absolutely nothing to do with being Mrs. Ramone Collins.

 

She moves quickly, striding toward the stables in the distance. The closer she gets, the more she can smell the fresh hay and hear the whinnying of the horses. She feels her body begin to relax out of habit, instinctively recognizing the scents of the stables as safety and freedom. Her heart finally starts to slow its frantic rhythm against her ribcage. Nothing feels quite as much like home as when she’s with the horses. She’d spent more time with them than she had with her family when she was a girl, hiding away in Lizzy’s stall when Tabetha wanted her to practice curtsying with Amy and Clara.

 

Lizzy is waiting for her now, her head sticking out of the stall as she chews on a mouthful of hay. “Hello sweetie,” Melody greets, breaking into a smile. She reaches out a hand to stroke Lizzy’s nose, refusing to acknowledge the fact that she’s still shaking. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, you are.”

 

Nuzzling into the bodice of Melody’s dress, Lizzy neighs quietly.

 

“What do you say we run away together, eh?” She combs her fingers through the animal’s mane, smiling sadly. “Just us girls.”

 

Lizzy snuffles.

 

With a sigh, Melody admits, “Yes, I suppose you’re right. She’d hunt us like a bloodhound, wouldn’t she?” Listening to the sound of angry footsteps approaching the barn, she shuts her eyes. “Ah well. Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

 

“There you are, ungrateful child.”

 

Melody holds in a scream of frustration, but only barely. “I’m not marrying him, Aunt Tabetha.”

 

“Nonsense.” Tabetha marches toward her, dragging Augustus by the sleeve of his coat. “You get back inside right this minute and tell that man you were only teasing and you would love nothing more than to marry him.”

 

Melody glares. “No.”

 

“But you’ll be mistress of this house someday!” Tabetha stares at her like she has two heads, utterly incapable of comprehending not wanting to marry for financial gain. For a moment, Melody pities her Uncle. “You’ll save me and your cousins from destitution-”

 

“You would make me a whore just to have a roof over your head twenty years from now?” Melody ignores her Aunt’s scandalized gasp at her language, lifting her chin stubbornly. “Amy and Clara would never want that. And I will not let you bully me into it either.”

 

“How dare you, you ungrateful, selfish girl.” Tabetha finally lets go of Augustus, moving to stand behind him. She prods at his back to usher him forward but she’s such a small woman she doesn’t even budge him. “Tell her, Augustus.” She waves a furious hand, red-faced and fuming. “Tell her it’s the very least she can do for us after we’ve taken her in all these years. Order her, Augustus.”

 

“Enough, Tabetha.” Augustus draws himself up to his full height and Melody stares at him wonderingly. She always forgets what a stout man her uncle is, always overshadowed by his tiny, ferocious wife. “We did not take my sister’s child into our home in the hopes of one day gaining some future benefit from her. We did it — or perhaps I should say I did it - because I wanted her to be safe and cared for. Because I loved her even then, wee little thing she was.” He meets Melody’s startled gaze, his scowl softening into something almost apologetic. “And that isn’t about to change now just because she’s grown.”

 

Tabetha gapes at him. “But-”

 

“I know you mean well, Tabetha.” Augustus glances at Melody, his expression amused and encouraging. “But if she doesn’t want to marry that dull little man then I certainly won’t make her.”

 

Melody smiles, feeling grateful tears sting her eyes. “Thank you, Uncle.” She surges forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You really are the best of your sex.”

 

He harrumphs, self-conscious and blushing. “Away with you.”

 

She turns to do just that, patting Lizzy once more before she moves to leave the stables and let her aunt and uncle bicker in private. Only Tabetha’s firm grip on her wrist stops her. Looking into her furious eyes, Melody arches a questioning eyebrow.

 

“You may think yourself desirable enough to have the luxury of refusing every offer of marriage that comes your way,” she says, her voice low and furious. “But rest assured, one day soon you will find yourself quite alone, well past marriageable age and without a husband. I don’t know who you think will look after you once your uncle is dead but I certainly won’t be able to. So I suggest you think very carefully on Mr. Collins’ offer.”

 

Melody wrenches her wrist from her grip, swallowing. “Thank you, Aunt Tabetha,” she says softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

Despite Tabetha’s venom now, she knows eventually her aunt will calm down and be able to look at Melody without simmering resentment. Her temper is something she shares with Amy and while it burns hot at first, it’s gone just as quickly as it appears. She’ll never apologize, of course, but Melody has learned not to expect one by now.

 

As she steps back into the house, Ramone is nowhere to be found. Probably off in his room licking his wounds in private and composing a flowery letter about his failure to his beloved Lady Kovarian. She’d expected to find her cousins still amusing themselves with her botched engagement, laughing themselves silly over Aunt Tabetha’s horror over the whole affair. Instead, they’re huddled on the staircase together. Pale and red-eyed, Amy holds a letter in her hands and Clara wraps an arm around her shoulders, hugging her close.

 

“Amy?” Melody approaches them quickly, skirts in hand. “What’s the matter?”

 

Amy doesn’t reply but Clara takes the crumpled letter from her limp hands and waves it in the air with a scowl. “This just arrived from that uppity bint Missy. She says she’s going back to London for the winter with her brother and her nephew. Apparently, they aren’t planning on coming back.”

 

“What?” Melody snatching the letter from Clara, frowning as she scans Missy’s hastily scribbled note. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would Rory leave? Amy, that man loves you. Anyone with eyes could see it.”

 

“Apparently not.” She finally looks up, still leaning against Clara, her eyes wet and her nose red. Melody feels her heart clench at the sight of her. “He didn’t even say goodbye.”

 

Melody sinks onto the staircase on the other side of her distraught cousin, gathering Amy into her arms. As she murmurs soothing words into Amy’s soft red hair, it occurs to her that she will probably never see John Smith again. She swallows thickly, forcing away thoughts of her well-used copy of Paradise Lost, of the way his hand in hers made her aware of her own body in ways she never had been before, and thinks: Good riddance

 

-

 

Resting her back against a towering oak on the very edge of the Pond estate, Melody plucks another blade of grass to add to the crown she’s making for Lizzy. The horse grazes only a few feet away with Jack’s steed, enjoying the rare sunshine as much as their riders. Melody in particular is overjoyed to be out of the house and away from the somber atmosphere hanging heavy over the family. Between Rory Williams leaving town, the gossip Clara had heard just this morning about Lady Ashildr courting some other young woman called Miss Tyler, and her own refusal of Ramone, there isn’t much to smile about. Aunt Tabetha in particular is in a foul temper.

 

“I still don’t understand it,” she says, frowning as she threads the blade of grass into a small knot. “Though I suspect his sudden escape to London had something to do with his horrible Aunt Missy. Probably didn’t think Amy was good enough to marry into her obnoxiously wealthy family.”

 

Lounging on his back beside her, Jack stares up at the canopy of leaves overhead and hums evasively. “Maybe.”

 

Melody pauses, eyes narrowed. “What?”

 

He shrugs, avoiding her gaze. “I just think you should take Amy’s natural flirtatiousness into consideration. No offense, sweetheart, but at just the ball at Pandorica the other night I saw her making eyes at Jeff, Cleo, and her own reflection.”

 

“What of it?” Melody frowns, bristling a bit in defense of her cousin. “She’s just friendly. You know how she is — she rarely means anything by it.”

 

I know that and you know that but does our dear Mr. Williams?” Jack lifts his head, squinting at her in the afternoon sunshine. “Maybe he mistakenly got the impression that Amy is just a flirt. Maybe he thought she wasn’t serious about him and his affection for her was one-sided.”

 

“Well then he’s blind.” Melody scowls, refusing to think too closely on what Jack is saying. It will do little good to understand what went wrong anyway. Rory Williams is gone and he’d taken his snooty aunt and uncle with him. “She was absolutely smitten with him. Far more than I’ve ever been or ever hope to be with anyone. I was sure she was the one who’d be getting a proposal, not me.”

 

Jack looks away again and in the quiet of the outdoors, Melody hears him swallow. “About that,” he ventures, and for the first time in the entire time she has known him Jack actually sounds hesitant. “I brought you out here because I need to tell you something and I thought it would be best to give you a place to scream.”

 

Melody arches an eyebrow, intrigued. “Something naughty on your mind, dear?”

 

“You know I love a good innuendo, Miss Pond, but now isn’t the time.” Jack sighs, pushing himself into an upright position. He ruffles his hair to dislodge a few stray blades of grass and dandelions; and as he does so Melody notices the way his hand shakes.

 

Abandoning the crown she’s working on entirely, Melody stares at him fearfully. “Not the time? Jack, you once made an innuendo in the middle of my great grandmother’s burial.”

 

“Hey, your great grandmother would have laughed.” Jack grimaces at her rueful glance. “All right, so the old biddy had a terrible sense of humor but it made you feel better, didn’t it?”

 

“It did.” She swallows a smile as she remembers, folding her hands in her lap. “So the question remains: why isn’t now the time?”

 

Jack takes a deep breath. “Because Ramone proposed to me. And I said yes.”

 

She blinks at him, an incredulous smile curling her mouth. “Sorry, what?”

 

“Don’t make me repeat myself, sweetheart. It’s taken me the entire afternoon just to say it once.” Jack huffs a strand of hair from his eyes and watches her guardedly from beneath his lashes. “What do you think?”

 

Her mouth opens and closes — opens and closes again — but no sound comes out. Jack fidgets as he waits for her to speak and she’s never seen him quite so uncertain. She has known him nearly her whole life and Jack Harkness is usually the sort of man to charge ahead and do what he likes, damn what anyone else thinks. And every man thus inclined found that absolutely enthralling about him. They’re two halves of the same person, she and Jack. Best friends and partners in crime since the moment they met. Hearing that he has settled for Ramone of all people is like a blow to the stomach. Like watching herself make a terrible mistake and being unable to stop it.

 

The first words to spill out of her mouth are, therefore, hardly encouraging. “Jack, why would you want him?”

 

“Why wouldn’t I?” The arch of his brow is downright accusatory. “Because you didn’t?”

 

She almost blushes, shaking her head even though he’s exactly right. “I just don’t understand. I mean, it’s clear why Ramone would propose to you. You’re handsome and clever. You’re kind and generous and anyone would be lucky to have you. Or me.” She winks at him and Jack huffs out a weak laugh, still watching her uncertainly. “And you’ve made no secret of the fact that you find Ramone attractive but I certainly never thought you would entertain the idea of marriage to him.”

 

“Melody-”

 

She holds out a hand to interrupt him and he reaches across the space between them and captures her hand in his. “Jack, you deserve to marry someone you love.”

 

“Honey, you’re the romantic in this relationship. Not me.” Jack smiles ruefully, squeezing her fingers gently. “I see no reason why I couldn’t be as happy with Ramone as anyone else. True he’s a little dull and his small talk could use some work but he just needs training up.” He winks at her, smirking. “And I’m just the man to do it.”

 

Melody bites her lip, wavering.

 

He sighs, bending his head to press a kiss to her wrist. “I need you to be happy for me, Mels.”

 

Jack stares at her imploringly, his handsome face etched with a desperation she so rarely sees from him. His cheeks are flushed pink from the sun and there are still a few blades of grass stuck in his hair. He’s beautiful, she thinks, using her free hand to press her palm to his cheek. And she’ll never believe he doesn’t deserve better than Ramone. Her own astonishment and reluctance aside, however, she sees a dear friend before her who needs her support. Whatever her feelings about this engagement, it doesn’t matter. What matters is Jack.

 

Mustering up a smile, she says, “I am happy for you, Jack. As long as this is truly what you want then I wish you both a wonderful life together.”

 

A wide, relieved grin spreads across Jack’s face and she knows instantly that she’d done the right thing. He doesn’t need her opinion, only her unwavering friendship. Just as he’s always had it. “Thank you,” he says, tugging gently on her hand until she leans across the distance between them and allows him to gather her close against him. Instantly, the scent of fresh grass and leather envelopes her. “So you’ll visit once we’re settled?”

 

Melody rests her head on his shoulder, letting him wrap his strong arms around her. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss seeing you domesticated.”

 

Jack smiles into her hair. “You know, I’ve heard my fiancé's neighbor Lady Kovarian is related to your Mr. Smith. Maybe you’ll run into him while you’re there.”

 

Melody ignores the skip of her heartbeat and pushes at his chest, leaning away to glare up at him. “Bite your tongue.”

 

He growls playfully. “I’d rather you did it for me.”

 

“I’m sure you would. Harlot.” Laughing, she tucks herself into his side again and says, “I’m going to miss you.”

 

With a sigh, Jack presses a kiss to her temple. “Me too.”