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Lord Stark and Miss Potts

Summary:

“So, Miss Potts,” he purrs, using the few inches he has on her because of his heeled boots to lean down to her, looking straight into her eyes, “what is your answer?”

He acts as if she hasn’t already made a decision.

Unable to keep the smirk entirely off her face, Pepper pushes her chin forward and raises her wrist with the dance card.

Lord Stark raises an eyebrow.

“If we want this to work, people need to see us,” Pepper explains, quite satisfied that now she is the one explaining something to him. “The best way to be seen is by dancing. And if you want to dance with me, you need to sign my card.”

His smile widens, showing a row of white teeth, as he signs the card with flourish, the single word Stark taking up entirely too much space. “Miss Pott, I do believe this is the beginning of a very successful partnership. Now, shall we, my lady?”

~~~~~~~~~~~

aka the Bridgerton AU for Pepperony that I wanted to read, so I wrote it

Notes:

Hi! :)

Should you happen to follow me on tumblr, you might already know that I have been working on this fic. From the moment I first watched Bridgerton, I immediately wanted to write a Pepperony version of it - and now, 5 months later, here it is. Haven't finished writing all of it because I'm too impatient and so excited to share this, so I really can't promise regular updates.

I don't think it is necessary to have watched the show to understand the plot, but it might help setting the scene. It takes place in London in 1813, and the language is probably too modern, but hey, I tried. Also: a rake is a (and I'm quoting the actor of the Duke of Hastings here) a regency fuck boy.

Big, massive thank you to my beta-reader ghostly-blues!

Now, get out your gloves, top hat, make yourself some tea, and enjoy! :)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: The Diamond of the Season

Chapter Text

When Virginia Potts is only a few weeks shy of five years old, her parents fall incredibly ill and die, leaving her all alone in the world. However, the young girl doesn’t cry; not when the vicar she hardly knows tries to explain her what happened, not when she’s told to gather all of her belongings and leave, not when she’s sent to live with some nuns until they find an aunt or uncle, a distant cousin or a grandparent who will take her in.

Even at her young age, Virginia knows her manners; she simply thanks them and sits still, waiting until they discover that there’s no one else left, that the only family she’s ever had is now buried in two freshly dug graves.

But fate seems to have other plans for her.

Almost a fortnight after the funeral, a carriage stops in front of the nunnery and a man steps out, wearing the finest clothes she has ever seen. Virginia knows who he is, simply because the nuns are unexpectedly fond of gossiping whenever they aren’t busy praying; Lord Terrence Rhodes, a viscount who mostly lives in London with his wife and son.

She has never met a viscount before and she doesn’t know why he came here, but she does know her manners, so when he approaches her, she curtsies as best as she can, only swaying a little bit.

To her biggest surprise, the man kneels down in front of her until their faces are on the same level, and he gives her a warm smile, the kind that makes someone’s eyes soft. “You must be Miss Virginia Potts,” he says, his voice a low rumble.

“Yes, my lord,” she answers with a steady voice.

“Do you know why I’m here?”

“No, my lord.”

“Your father and I were close friends.” That surprises her. She may not know much, but she knows that people like the viscount are not friends with people like her family. Society doesn’t allow it. “We fought together and he saved my life once. I vowed to repay it in any way I can – which I failed to do. So, I am going to keep safe the one dearest to him.”

Before Virginia can decode the meaning of his words, she’s hurried into his carriage by the nuns, who are more than eager to send her off, happy that there’s one less mouth to be fed. Clinging to the only things she knows – her manners and the small bag with her few belongings – Virginia doesn’t protest, simply doing as she is told, and thanks the nuns for their hospitality.

The ride to London is long, but Lord Rhodes does a wonderful job of distracting her, telling her all sorts of stories about the scenery that passes their window, tales about the adventures he and her father shared, and humorous anecdotes about his family. Virginia, as always, remains polite, smiling and nodding, answering when asked something, but refrains from asking that one burning question: what is happening?

After two days, they arrive at the lord’s house – a house grander than any Virginia has ever seen before, with a tall gate and flowers adorning every surface possible, like something out of a fairy tale in the middle of a busy city like London. Inside, they’re greeted by all of the servants, each and every one greeting her with a smile and a bow or curtsy – she returns them all, making sure to introduce herself each and every time. Lord Rhodes doesn’t rush her, but because she doesn’t dare to look up to him, she doesn’t see his smile.

Eventually, she meets Lady Roberta Rhodes, who greets her with a warm hug that almost melts the tension and anxiety inside her away, and their son James who only looks a few years older than her. They’re all so nice and welcoming to her, full of smiles and compliments, feeding her, bathing her, and giving her a more than spacious bed chamber all for herself. Virginia thanks them for all of it, just like she’s been taught to do.

And then, she waits.

Waits for someone to tell her what to do, because no one has told her why she’s here. Lord Rhodes told her he promised her father to look after her, but what does that mean? Her parents were simple people with no land, no title, nothing that made them any different from most people in the country. She’s from the families that work in fancy houses like these, not live in them.

That must be it, Virginia suddenly thinks, relieved by the sudden revelation and having clarity. They want me to work here. It’s not the worst outcome, she supposes. They’re kind people, which is rare, and she vows to show her gratitude for their kindness through her work.

Over the next week, none of the Rhodes’ mention anything about her being a servant. Lord Rhodes takes every opportunity he can get to make the people around him smile, Lady Rhodes teaches her how to play the pianoforte, and James has a mischief in his eyes that he’s not afraid to share but hides as soon as his mother enters the room, replacing it with a charming smile. Virginia likes them, she wants to stay with them, so she makes sure that they notice she is diligent and useful.

She wakes on her own and makes her bed, washes, dresses, and braids her hair all by herself. She memorizes everyone’s tea order and what they like to eat alongside it, jumping to her feet to serve them as soon as someone even looks in the direction of the tea pot. She waters the flowers, tidies up after everyone, does her best to clean the big windows, sets the table and cleans up afterwards.

A few days later, Lady Rhodes grabs her arm as Virginia jumps to her feet after dinner to clear the table. “Dear, what are you doing?”

“I am doing the chores, my lady.”

“Yes, I see that, but why?” Virginia doesn’t answer, too stunned by the genuine confusion in the woman’s voice. Suddenly, something dawns on Lady Rhodes and her face softens. Carefully, she takes the dirty dishes out of Virginia’s tiny hands to cradle them in hers. “Virginia, do you know why you’re here?”

“To work for you, my lady.”

“No, my dear.”

Virginia blinks in confusion. She’s not here to work? Why, then? The answer flashes through her mind and she feels like a fool for not thinking about it sooner. “To marry your son?” She knows that she’s still far too young to marry, but she will get older. It’s a woman’s job to marry and have children.

And James is nice. True, she hasn’t considered marrying him and the thought makes her want to scrunch up her nose in an impolite manner, but he is witty and charming and fun and kind and from a very good family. What more can you ask from a husband? Love is a luxury not many have.

Lady Rhodes’ smile turns a bit sad. “No, Virginia. Should you both wish to marry each other in the future, then you are free to marry, but that is not why you are here.”

“Then why am I here?”

“To be part of our family. If you want to, that is.”

Never once had that thought crossed her mind. With wide eyes, Virginia stares – quite rudely, which she later realizes – at the lady in front of her, her eyes slowly traveling to Lord Rhodes and James who meet her surprised face with kind smiles.

And then, for the first time in weeks, Virginia starts to cry. She cries and sobs and shakes and can’t get a single, intelligible word over her lips, so overcome with sudden sadness about the family she has lost and relief and happiness about the family she gained that she can’t restrain herself. Her new family engulfs her in hugs and kisses on her forehead, and Lord Rhodes carries her to bed as if she weighs nothing and as if her tears don’t stain his silken shirt.

That night, when she is unable to sleep and lays in her bed, staring at the ornamented ceiling above her, Virginia vows to do everything in her power to make the Rhodes family proud. She won’t embarrass them, not when they have been so extraordinarily kind and gracious to her. How could she ever pay them back for their kindness? The little inheritance she got from her parents is barely enough for a proper dowry.

That is how Virginia decides that she will become the most promising debutant of all of London – nay, England! – as soon as she is of age. After all, the only way a woman can make their family proud is by marrying well.

From then on, Virginia ‘Pepper’ (a nickname she gained shortly after accepting her place in the Rhodes family, and while she can’t remember who gave it to her or when it happened – she is convinced it is because of her damned freckles, even though James insists it isn’t – it is now the name only her family and closest friends call her) Potts devotes every second of the day to reaching perfection.

She spends a lot of time on her appearance, not out of vanity, but because men are looking for a beautiful wife – everything else matters less. Even a less than ideal spot in society could be overlooked if she has a pretty face. So, Pepper spends hours finding out which type of dress looks best on her, which colour compliments her pale skin best, how to hide her freckles best, and how to curl her hair. She walks through the entire house with a book on her head, making sure that her posture is impeccable, even when James tries his best to make the book fall down – as revenge, Pepper makes him practice dancing with her again and again and again until she deems it good enough (and a bit longer, just to vex him). She practices how to best curtsy until her knees hurt and how to elegantly use her fan until her wrists ache.

However, at some point, she perfected all of that and still wasn’t old enough to join society. So, Pepper takes on all the other things a wife can be besides beautiful. She learns horseback riding and playing the pianoforte, she practices her singing, and even though she knows her voice will never be good enough to be an opera singer, it is at least good enough to not embarrass her family. She learns to write in beautiful letters and to read without stuttering, she embroiders hundreds of pillows, studies all the countries known to men, reads poetry, and studies art. Any topic that might come up in a conversation, from art to politics, she studies enough to discuss – even though she knows it will hardly matter. Women who speak their mind aren’t what men look for in a wife, so Pepper also learns to keep her opinions to herself.

Despite her ambitions to become the perfect debutant, she still finds time to do things she enjoys and is interested in. Even though Lady Rhodes told her she is not here to work as a servant, Pepper still makes sure to help them whenever she can. The work isn’t too different from what she did and saw her mother do when she lived with her parents, and it soothes her aching heart whenever she misses them.

To the surprise of everyone, Pepper enjoys organizing immensely. Whenever the Rhodes are hosting a dinner or even tea, she is in charge of planning everything to the last second. It is quite a useful talent, one Lady Rhodes praises her for, saying it will be very beneficial for leading a household once she’s married. The lord lets her read every book from his study she desires, even the ones deemed improper for a lady (Pepper only rolls her eyes at that – do men really believe a woman’s mind can’t process something like numbers or politics?).

She enjoys spending time with her friends, especially Natasha Romanoff, who seems to have an answer for every question, no matter how scandalous – Pepper’s cheeks still heat up when she remembers her friend’s answer to the question of how a lady comes to be with child. In typical Natasha fashion, she had looked completely unbothered and only smirked, enjoying the embarrassment of her friends.

But, without a doubt, Pepper’s favourite pastime is spending time with the Rhodes family – with her family. Even though she cannot bring herself to call the lord and the lady Papa and Mama, she sees them as just that. When the viscount suddenly dies, only a year before Pepper is about to be introduced to the ton, she mourns his death more than the death of her birth parents.

James becomes her dearest friend, despite their sibling-like tiffs. He encourages her to get back on her horse after she falls off for the first time, but he still teases her endlessly about it afterwards. When she’s practicing her singing, he comments about how the wails of their neighbour’s dying cat are more pleasant, but he beams proudly at her when Pepper sings during a soiree without embarrassing herself or her family. Pepper doesn’t stop making comments about James’ first crush (though only when the lord and the lady can’t hear them) that leave him blushing madly, but she also offers him comfort when his heart gets broken by the girl. Every time James leaves London for school, he vows he won’t miss her, but still sends her a letter every week – and Pepper never fails to send a letter back with a comment about how much she enjoys the full attention of Lady Rhodes and having no one around who steals the food from her plate.

And so, the years pass, until, finally, the most important day in Pepper’s life comes.


The room is filled with agitated debutants, no matter if this is their first season or fifth, all dressed in white, ornamented gowns, the best jewellery their families have and the (ridiculous) feathers, and their mamas bustling about, reminding their daughters to stand tall and smile and look pretty.

Ignoring the nervousness that is building up inside her chest, Pepper lets her eyes drift across the room, silently comparing herself to all the other debutants. They are about to be introduced to the ton, London’s society, by being presented to the Queen. The Queen will give one of them her favour, choosing the most eligible debutant of the season and therefore improving her chances to find a husband immensely.

Naturally, Pepper is striving to be that one lucky debutant.

Her friend Natasha catches her eye, standing next to her sister Yelena who looks less than pleased to be here, and they share a smile. Natasha is a true beauty, making every gentleman’s head turn when she walks down the street, but it is also a well-known fact that she has no intention of marrying any time soon, simply joining the ton to accompany Yelena and Pepper. Once, during a walk through the Romanoff’s rose garden, she confided in Pepper that she would gladly skip the entire marriage ordeal and become a ballerina instead, something she and her sister have been practicing since they were able to stand up.

Lady Rhodes touches her arm. “How are you feeling, my dear?”

Pepper gives her one of the smiles she’s perfected over the last years. “I am thrilled to meet the Queen.” Lady Rhodes – always able to see through her children’s masks – raises an eyebrow. Pepper looks around, making sure that no one is listening, before adding in a low voice: “Nervous.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” she soothes her, placing her hand against Pepper’s cheek. “Just be yourself.” Pepper doubts being herself will get her as far as she wants – needs – to go, but she accepts the advice with a smile nonetheless.

Finally, the doors in front of them open, and one by one the families enter the room, being presented to the Queen and the ton like a head of cattle on a market.

And then-

“Miss Virginia Potts, presented by the honourable Dowager Viscountess Rhodes.”

Pepper raises her chin, gliding across the room with a smile on her face, just like she has practiced, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on her, but she simply refuses to look nervous. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees James, now Viscount Rhodes (he had inherited the title after his father’s passing) standing among the crowd, looking handsome and almost regal in his new coat, a small, encouraging smile on his lips.

When she reaches the end, Pepper curtsies, bowing her head and keeping it low, standing perfectly still no matter how unpleasant the position is, waiting for the Queen’s judgement. The Queen wallows in the fact that she has so much power over the ton, meddling with matches and pushing people together she seemed fit – however, her influence on them is shaking since the mysterious columnist Lady Whistledown started sharing the most scandalous gossip of London, ruining families with just a few words.

For a few moments that feel like an eternity, nothing happens. Pepper keeps perfectly still, all the while many doubts are invading her mind. Did she make a mistake? Had she overlooked anything? Even though she spent most of her life with the Rhodes family, she hadn’t been born into this society – what if she broke some unspoken rule, one that is so fundamental and obvious for everyone else that no one seems it worth enough to actually tell her? Did she ruin her chance to make the Rhodes family proud?

Suddenly, there is a hand underneath her chin, gently lifting her head. “Look at me, child.” Slowly – demure, coy, and whatever else makes her look humble – she looks up, right into the face of the Queen. The woman studies her face, inspecting everything from the curve of her nose to the distance between her eyes, the freckles blemishing her otherwise flawless skin, and the curl of her lips.

The Queen smiles.

“Flawless.”


Pride is considered unflattering for women, for men are looking for a modest wife, leaving the glory to them, but Pepper can’t help but feel that sinful feeling swell up in her chest as she enters the ballroom of her first social gathering. Every head turns towards her, a whisper weaving through the crowd. Not only had she gained the favour and approval of the Queen, but Lady Whistledown had described her as the diamond of the first water of this season – the most beautiful debutant and therefore the most desirable young woman to court.

How can Pepper not be proud? Having both the Queen and one of the most influential women of the ton elevate her like this; she’d dreamed of starting her first season like this, but she never really thought it would be possible.

Keeping her head high and a ghost of a smile on her lips, she floats into the room, expecting the first, bold young gentlemen to come forward and asking her to sign her dance card, thereby securing at least one dance with her.

However, the first gentleman who appears at her side and offers his arm for her to take is not the one she wants to see right now. “James,” Pepper says and takes his arm reluctantly, giving him a tight-lipped smile that her brother knows means she is annoyed at him – in return, he simply smirks. This is a common dance between the two of them. “I wasn’t aware you would be here tonight.”

“From all the talents you have masters, my dear sister, feigning a lack of knowledge isn’t one,” he answers, giving short greeting nods to the ladies and gentlemen they pass. “You know that it is my duty as the head of the family to find you a good husband.”

With a considerable amount of willpower, Pepper doesn’t roll her eyes and simply continues smiling. The head of the family – usually the father or, in Pepper’s case, the eldest son – secures a fitting match most of the time. There are stories where the future couple haven’t even shared a single dance before the men decided the wedding date. Yelena complains about it a lot (“Why do they get to decide who we marry? They aren’t the ones who have to spend the rest of their lives with those idiots.”) and Pepper can’t help but agree. The only reason she isn’t fussing about it, is because she knows James has her best interest at heart and wants her to be happy.

“Are you saying I’m incapable of finding myself a husband?” Pepper asks, because his comment still stung her.

“Of course not.”

“Or do you worry that no one will show any interest? Did you forget that I am the most desirable young lady of the season?”

“That is precisely why I am doing this,” he hisses, stopping and pulling her closer to the wall, shielding them from prying and curious eyes. “Every unmarried man of the ton will be trying to win your heart. They will be trying to impress you and therefore they will try to hide their less favourable personality traits.”

“And you know which gentleman is worthy enough?” Pepper can’t help but snap back, not liking his condescending behaviour one bit.

James narrows his eyes. “I do, for I have seen most of them at the club.”

“If the mere presence at the club is already enough to qualify a gentleman as unworthy, what does it say about you? Since you spend almost as much time there as you do at home.”

Given James’ title, his influential family name, wealth, and handsome face, he is one of the most eligible bachelors in all of London, no matter his age; however, he seems determined to avoid marriage, citing his new responsibilities as a viscount as an excuse, and escapes scheming mamas and young ladies by hiding away in the club that only permits gentlemen entrance. Natasha has shared some thoughts about what scandalous things might happen in the club, and she has yet to be wrong about something.

Before James can open his mouth – no doubt to continue this spat – Lady Rhodes appears, a smile on her face that both of them know far too well. It means the lady is not pleased with their behaviour. “Children,” she says, keeping her voice light and sweet, as if nothing was amiss, but her eyes say something different, “you shouldn’t quarrel at a ball, much less in a place where everyone can see and hear you.” They both mumble an apology. “Now, James, if you insist on escorting Pepper through the room, then do it. But start moving before the last dance ends, yes?”

Wordlessly, Pepper takes the arm James offers her and they start circling through the room again. It doesn’t take long until a gentleman approaches them. If Pepper recalls correctly – and she always does – his name is Lord Ambrose, eldest son of a highly regarded family, though not quite as highly as the Rhodes family, and he has a handsome smile. “Lord Rhodes, Lady Rhodes,” he says, addressing them first with the bow of his head, before turning to Pepper. “Miss Potts. You look very beautiful this evening.”

Besides her, she can feel James stiffen. Like the good sister she is, she ignores him. “Oh, you are far too kind, Lord Ambrose.”

James pulls his face into a brooding grimace. As always, Pepper continues to ignore him. Lord Ambrose isn’t quite able to do the same, growing nervous under the viscount’s intense gaze.

The lord clears his throat, trying to appear unbothered by it, but his smile falters. “How, uh, how are you enjoying your first ball, Miss Potts?”

“It is completely exhilarating, and so delightful to enjoy the company of so many good people.”

“Ah, yes, it is certainly a good chance to socialize.”

“Speaking of socializing,” James speaks up before Pepper can find a topic that would move this (admittingly boring) conversation forward, “I haven’t seen you at the club for quite a while, Ambrose.” Immediately, Lord Ambrose pales and James tilts his head in a way that looks almost innocent. “That would have absolutely nothing to do with your betting debts to several gentlemen, I am sure of that.”

Pepper doesn’t even bother to listen to Lord Ambrose’s stuttered apology as he takes his leave, frustration already building up in her chest. Across the room, she catches Natasha’s eye. By the looks of it, she is certainly enjoying herself, taking a sip from the lemonade while some poor man tries his best to woo her and her sister. Upon noticing Pepper’s gaze on her, she sends her a smirk. Pepper cocks her head towards James, just a little bit. Immediately, Natasha’s smile widens and she disappears in the crowd.

“Are you trying to find a good husband for Pepper or to drive all of them away?” Lady Rhodes chastises.

“You can’t possibly want her to marry a gambler and a cheat. If he would have any honour, he would’ve paid his debts already,” James huffs. “Of course, I want her to find a good husband. A respectable one.”

“What about him?” Pepper asks, nodding towards a gentleman that had just danced passed them, sending her a dashing smile. “Clement Fenton has a respectable reputation-”

“Mr. Fenton is a second son, therefore he will not inherit a title, and since he and his brother had a fallout many years ago, it is unlikely he will get anything from the family fortune. He is looking to marry into a wealthy family, not to make his wife happy.”

Pepper’s patience starts to wear thin. “And him?” She asks again, pointing towards a gentleman by the windows. “What is his sin?”

“It is well-known that he has a mistress.” James doesn’t give her a chance to get a word in, instead he fixes his gaze on one gentleman after the other. “If the rumours are true, that one has a child with one of his maids. That one is of dubious parentage, and the gentleman over there likes to lay his hands on women.” To control her frustration, Pepper grips his arms and presses her lips into a thin line. “I’m here to look out for you, not to keep you from finding a husband.”

“And will you actually let me talk to someone, so I can find out who might be my future husband? Or will you simply keep me from even looking at anyone?”

Before James can even open his mouth to say something, Natasha suddenly appears by their side. There’s a sly smirk on her face that is a stark contrast to the scowl on her sister’s face, who had been dragged along. “Lord Rhodes, it is so good to see you here,” Natasha greets him with a small curtsy, her voice saccharine.

James, clearly caught off guard by the two ladies, clears his throat, trying to put on his usual charm as he bows to them. Since Pepper is such good friends with the sisters, he knows them – and he knows that Natasha’s smirk almost always means trouble for everyone but her. “Miss Romanoff. Miss Romanoff. The pleasure of seeing you here is all mine.”

“I must admit that having at least one honourable gentleman here puts my mind at ease. Please, you must give me the honour of accompanying me to the dance floor for my first dance as a debutant.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly-”

Natasha doesn’t let him finish and simply holds out her wrist with the dance card tied around it, once more disregarding proper social customs by asking a man to dance with her. “Please. I insist.” Feeling the gaze of Lady Rhodes on him and knowing it would bring more trouble to decline than trying to argue, he quickly signs her empty card, probably thinking he can go back to keeping Pepper from talking to anyone, but Natasha isn’t finished. “And my sister’s card as well.”

Yelena glares at her.

Natasha smiles back.

Yelena narrows her eyes.

Natasha slightly raises one eyebrow.

With an unamused quirk of her lip, Yelena holds out her wrist for James to take. “Please. Sign it.” Her voice holds no enthusiasm at all, quite the contrary, actually, but he signs it anyway.

As if it was planned – and Pepper wouldn’t put it past her friend to have actually planned it – the orchestra starts intoning a new song, giving everyone in the room enough time to hurry on the dance floor and take their places. Immediately, Natasha grabs James’ hand and pulls him along, not accepting no for an answer, and finally, her brother leaves Pepper’s side.

“Thank you,” she whispers to Yelena as she passes her, genuinely grateful.

“You owe me,” Yelena simply answers, keeping her head high and her gaze hard, scaring away anyone who dares to come close to her. (Pepper doesn’t point out that one corner of her lips is slightly pulled upwards, because if the Romanoff sisters share one trait, it is that they both love scheming and ruining other people’s plans and expectations.)

After getting a reassuring nod from Lady Rhodes, Pepper makes her way towards the refreshment table, completely unchaperoned, letting everyone look at her and hopefully encouraging a gentleman to talk to her, now that Lord Rhodes is tied to the dance floor. Her eyes roam over the brimmed table, several large bowls of punches and lemonade, sweets from all over the world, exquisite pastries, fresh and exotic fruit, the sight making her mouth water, but of course she doesn’t try anything. She’s here to find a husband, or at least a few suitors, not to eat.

“Miss Potts.”

Unable to hide the small smile on her face and feeling the pride once again swell up into her chest (this time, that her plan of distracting James worked so well), Pepper turns around – and immediately freezes.

Lord Aldrich Killian stands in front of her, bows, takes her hand and presses a kiss to it – making Pepper very happy that she’s wearing gloves – before giving her a smile that can only be described as lecherous. “I am so happy to see you here.”

“Lord Killian,” Pepper greets him, pulling her hand away as soon as she can and slapping a smile on her face. Because she doesn’t know what else to say, she keeps quiet.

If Lord Killian thinks her quietness rude, he doesn’t mention it. “I have to admit, I’ve been waiting patiently for you to finally join the ton and make your debut. In fact, I’ve been waiting years for this.”

“I was merely a child back then,” she answers, doing her best to keep the smile on her face. There is something about Lord Killian that Pepper can’t put her finger on but that sends a shiver down her spine – and not in a good way. Maybe it is because he’s always looking at her in an inappropriate way. Maybe it is because he has been doing that long before she reached the age to even consider joining the ton. Besides, everyone in London knows that he is trying to climb the social ladder – Pepper, as a ward of the Rhodes family and as the diamond of the season, is the perfect target for it.

His eyes flicker to her empty dance card. “Perhaps you will allow me to sign your card?”

Over her dead body.

But she can’t exactly say that.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Natasha and James float over the dance floor.

“I think my brother is looking for me,” Pepper quickly says and rushes past Lord Killian. She knows the lord is bold (or hopefully stupid) enough to approach her again, even with James by her side. Even now, he does not give up, trailing after her and calling out her name, pulling way too much attention towards them.

This is not how she pictured her first ball to be. She was supposed to meet her future husband, not get chased through the room by a creep and be caged by her brother!

She hurries around a corner, finally out of Lord Killian’s sight, but because of her haste, her shoulder catches on something – or rather on someone – and she stumbles, the stranger’s hands grabbing her arms before she can fall. “Oh! My deepest apologies! I didn’t-”

“You’re forgiven,” a gentleman says, sending her a tight-lipped smile before moving to turn away again.

Pepper can see Lord Killian at the other end of the room, clearly searching for her.

Her mouth moves before her mind can catch up. “What is your name, sir?”

The gentleman stops and turns back to her, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your name,” Pepper repeats with a charming smile, moving so that she’s shielded from Lord Killian’s view. “Surely you must have one, sir.” Admittingly, she is taking a page out of Natasha’s book of Breaking Accepted Social Customs by introducing herself to the man instead of being introduced to him, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

The man looks her up and down, taking a second to really look at her, and Pepper decides to take the same liberties. He looks older than her, somewhere between her and James, his brown hair a bit messier than it is in fashion right now, a neatly groomed beard, and big brown eyes – Pepper is certain she hasn’t seen him anywhere in London before. She would have remembered such a handsome face, no matter how brief their interaction. His red coat is embroidered with golden yarn and pinned to the middle of his dark vest is a silver brooch with blue stones that almost looks like they shine as they catch the light around them.

Slowly, the man’s mouth forms into a smirk, making him even more handsome.

Unfortunately, he also starts talking. “I do have a name. And I’m certain you’re already perfectly aware of it.”

Pepper can only blink. “Pardon me?”

“No need to act coy with me, my lady. It seems like the dear mothers of the ton have stepped to new, even lower levels of scheming.” Even though his voice is full of humour, there is a slight strained undertone to it, and it sounds like he is more talking to himself than her. “Sending their daughters to accost me to forgo proper introduction.”

“Accost you-” Pepper interrupts him, unable to keep silent at his outrageous accusation. “Sir, that is not-” He looks at her, raising one eyebrow in a way that looks entirely too smug. Pepper pulls her shoulders back, straightens up to her full height – almost as tall as the man before her – and holds his gaze with an icy one herself. “What is your name?”

Instead of answering, he huffs out a puff of air, like she is the one with no manners.

Pepper can feel the anger in her stomach boiling up. “Your name!”

“Stark!” Both of their heads whip around, seeing James hurry towards them, a wide grin on his face. A grin that is immediately mirrored by the man Pepper had just been conversing with and who now happily ignores her to reach out and take James’ hand. “I thought my eyes were playing a trick on me, but you really are here!”

“I simply missed you too much, my dearest Rhodey.”

“It is Rhodes.”

“Not to me, and you know that.”

James simply ignores the jest. “I’m surprised to see you in London, much less at this ball. I thought the Duke of Hastings had a reputation of avoiding any place he could meet a potential wife.”

Someone lights a candle in Pepper’s head, clearing the confusing fog. “Oh, the Duke of Hastings, is it?” she says, trying her absolute best to keep her voice as polite as her words, but failing at it.

She, like the rest of all of England, has heard of the new Duke of Hastings, of course. Though, new isn’t quite the right word to describe him, seeing as he had inherited the title a few years ago. It is a well-known fact that he prefers the reputation of a rake and as a supposedly eternal bachelor over being married, as well as the fact that he has been ignoring his responsibilities for as long as he has had them.

Suddenly, James seems to realize that he isn’t alone with the duke. “Ah, yes. Stark, you surely remember my sister, Virginia Potts.”

“Your sister?” Lord Stark asks, his eyes jumping from James to Pepper, clearly confused for a second. Logically, Pepper knows she can’t blame him for it, seeing as they look as different as night and day, but she still makes a point of holding it against him. Then, to her surprise, something like recognition flashes across his eyes, and she is certain he wordlessly mouths Pepper

Wait – did James just say remember my sister?

“This is Lord Anthony Stark, the Duke of Hastings,” James explains to her. “We went to school together and I had to pull his head out of the noose quite a few times. The headmaster had quite… a lot of first-hand experience with Stark’s desire to cause havoc.”

“You act like you had no part in it, Rhodey,” Lord Stark says, looking way too proud. “If I remember correctly, you’ve been a co-conspirator at least half of the time.”

“Then you clearly don’t remember correctly. I’ve devoted my time at university to broadening my horizons.”

“It is so good to know that at least someone still values education,” Pepper says with the sweetest smile on her face, looking from her brother to the duke. “Unlike other people.” As a woman, she isn’t allowed entry to a university and the very fact that Lord Stark disregarded his privilege so carelessly, angers her even more. Then again, given how much he ignores his duties, it shouldn’t be a surprise.

Lord Stark fixes her with another glance, but this time, there is something in his eyes she can’t quite place. Refusing to back down, she continues to smile and pushes her chin slightly forward. One corner of his mouth turns upwards, like this is somehow greatly amusing to him. Oh, how she wishes she had chosen to bring a fan tonight, simply so she could smack it across his face!

James clears his throat. “How long will you be remaining in London, Stark?”

It takes a moment, but eventually, Lord Stark looks from Pepper to her brother. “’til the end of the season, I’m afraid. My aunt insisted on it.”

“Ah, yes, it is quite impossible to get out of Lady Carter’s fangs,” James laughs. Lady Carter is an aunt in the same way Pepper is the daughter of Lady Rhodes. “I assume I will see you at the club, then.”

“Since it is one of the few places my aunt isn’t allowed in, yes, you assume correctly.” Pepper certainly doubts that a woman like Lady Margaret Carter can be stopped by a door a man told her not to go through, but before she can make such a remark, Lord Stark turns to her and bows, that damned smirk back on his face. “Miss Potts, it was a pleasure running into you here.”

She feels her cheeks burning, reminded that she has been the one who so rudely ran into the duke, but she refuses to show a reaction. Instead, she smiles and curtsies. “I wish I could say the same, Your Grace.”

Somehow, the comment seems to amuse Lord Stark even more, the smirk on his face stretching even bigger and lighting a certain spark in his eyes. Pepper decides to not remain long enough to find out what kind of spark it is, grabbing James’ arm and marching off. She can feel eyes on her, burning into her back and making her neck tingle – however, instead of wondering if those hungry eyes belong to possible suitors, she’s only wondering if Lord Stark’s eyes are among them.

“Pepper, what-”

“Did you tell Lord Stark about me?” she asks, not letting James finish.

“What are you talking about?”

“You said surely you remember my sister. Did you tell him about me?”

“Well, yes.” Some of the tension in her shoulders eases away, but then he continues speaking. “But he also met you.”

“What?” Pepper freezes on the spot, forgetting all of her manners for a second to stare at James, mouth slightly open. “When?” The thought that she has already met the duke and can’t remember it, infuriates her for some reason. Especially because he clearly remembered her, saying the name only a few people know her by. It makes her feel like she is at a disadvantage, and that is not something she likes.

James looks at her like she has lost her mind – maybe she truly has. “Many years ago, only a few days after Father brought you to us. He was visiting with Lady Carter and they stayed for dinner.” She searches her memories for this dinner, but there is absolutely no trace of it. “Pepper?”

“I don’t remember,” she whispers as something in her chest tightens. If she is truly honest with herself, she doesn’t exactly know why this irks her so much, but it makes her feel less in control. Like Lord Stark’s found a crack in her perfect plan and she is quite certain that he will use it to cause chaos.

“I’m not surprised,” James simply says, gently leading her through the room towards the table with the refreshments. “You were still heavily… influenced by what happened.” He certainly tries to find a nice way to say traumatized. “Why does it matter?”

Yes, why does it matter?

Pepper wishes she knows the answer to that.

But she doesn’t. So, she only shakes her head. “It doesn’t. I was simply… surprised by it, that is all.” James squints his eyes at her, obviously not believing her, but she doesn’t give him a chance to question her again. Instead, she steers them back towards the dancefloor, regaining control over herself with every step she takes. “Now, come, brother. Show me which of these gentlemen is respectable enough to even speak to me.”

With a roll of his eyes, James drops the topic and starts gossiping about the gentlemen in attendance, spreading out all their worst qualities in front of her. Pepper does her best to ban the duke out of her mind and instead concentrate on the scandalous tales.

Chapter 2: A Fateful Evening in the Gardens

Notes:

Hi! :)

Thank you so much to everyone who left kudos and comments and bookmarks! I'm so happy that you enjoy this story! :)

Once again a massive thank you to ghostly-blues for beta-reading this!

Enjoy! :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The entire street can hear Pepper Potts playing the pianoforte through the open windows of the Rhodes mansion, and therefore the entire street knows that she is angry. For all their neighbours, it is a well-known fact that Pepper – who always does her absolute best to keep her composure, never swaying from a polite smile no matter how furious she is – expresses her anger through playing music. The more aggressive and lively the piece is she is playing, the angrier she is.

And judging by the fast tempo, the staccato notes and the almost unbearable loudness of it, she is angrier than ever before.

Not that anyone can blame her – the entire city read Lady Whistledown’s column this morning.

Dear reader, it seems the Queen might have to overthink her decision to elect Miss Potts as the diamond of the season, for all the suitors of the ton seem to disagree.

The words are burning behind Pepper’s eyes and her face distorts into a frown as she all but smashes down the keys, torturing the ivory with her anger.

Or maybe it is simply the good Lord Rhodes’ overzealous protectiveness that frightens every possible suitor, chasing them towards a more obtainable – and maybe even prettier – lady.

The pianoforte shakes with her anger, but it does nothing to extinguish the fire burning in her.

Of course, this author can only speculate about the possible reason a suitor might have to turn away from the most desirable debutante in London. It makes one wonder: how much trouble is a pretty face worth?

Pepper’s finger slips, hitting the wrong key for the last note, ending the piece with a disharmonic cacophony, making her even more irritated. Her eyes flicker to the damned pamphlet and the desire to take it and rip it into tiny pieces is almost overwhelming.

“That was a lovely melody,” someone says from behind her. James. Pepper’s eyes turn into angry slits, but she refuses to turn around, staring straight ahead. He has to feel guilty, because that melody could be described as a lot of things, but not as lovely. “Who wrote it?”

“I did,” she answers in an icy voice.

“You’re a very talented musician,” he keeps praising her as he walks closer, his steps echoing over the marble floor. “Do you have a name for it yet?”

“I do.”

A moment of silence. As it becomes clear that Pepper won’t continue on her own, James prompts: “Would you share it with me?”

“It’s called I Will Poison My Brother Tonight During Dinner Because He Is The Worst Brother In History.”

Another moment of silence. “That’s a bit long, don’t you think?”

“Then why don’t you pick a name?” she almost spits, turning around on her stool to glare at him. “Since you have already decided that you will pick everything else for me.”

James presses his lips into a thin line. A lesser man wouldn’t even have dared to breathe under her dark glare, but he has always been brave. In a few strides, he is next to her, sitting down on the stool the wrong way around, leaning back until his back hits the pianoforte, sending a few, soft tones through the room. “I’m only trying to look out for you.”

“You didn’t even let me talk to them for more than a minute!”

Two days ago, the morning after Pepper’s first ball, the entire house had been filled with anticipation, for everyone assumed that the entire day would be spent receiving gentleman callers. And they did – but, unfortunately, James had been the first one to arrive and the last one to leave, insisting he has to be present the entire time. That in itself isn’t unheard of. In fact, it would have been very inappropriate to leave Pepper with those gentlemen alone.

However, it had been completely unnecessary for him to sit directly between them and all but interrogate the gentlemen instead of joining Lady Rhodes at the other side of the large drawing room to give them some kind of privacy to get to know each other. It certainly didn’t help matters that a lot of the gentlemen were already intimidated by him for many reasons and his undivided attention made them even more squirmish.

By the afternoon, the stream of her suitors slowly moved towards one of their neighbours’ houses to court the young, beautiful lady who is a distant relative of the lady of the house – and, most importantly, who doesn’t have an overprotective brother.

The day after, there were no gentlemen waiting for her at all.

Well, no. There was one; Lord Killian, who stayed, in Pepper’s opinion, far too long, and was way too encouraged by the lack of suitors.

And then, this morning, all of London read what Lady Whistledown had to say about the matter.

So, yes, Pepper has spent most of her morning torturing the pianoforte – alternatively, she would have throttled her brother.

“Pepper,” James sighs, “you know I don’t do this to anger you.”

“Is that supposed to comfort me?” It looks like he wants to say more, but she doesn’t give him the opportunity. “Because it is not working.”

“Don’t-”

“If you call me hysterical, I will poison your dinner,” Pepper vows.

“I was going to say dramatic.”

“Are you really trying to get killed today? Because I can call on Natasha and Yelena, I am certain they have some ideas.”

“I simply want to help you,” James says, quite clearly trying to control his own frustration. “It was never my intention to anger or hurt you in any way.”

“And yet you did,” she says, turning her head again to stare straight ahead. “Whistledown practically declared me undesirable this morning. Too much trouble for any gentleman.”

James snorts in disbelief. “The Queen declared you flawless! How can the word of a gossip be worth more than hers?”

“Because the entire ton is listening to her.”

“It won’t matter. You’re still a Rhodes and therefore-”

“But I’m not,” Pepper interrupts him, keeping her voice as steady as she can and ignoring her brother’s gaze on her and the growing burn in her own eyes from unshed tears. “Not really. Not by blood.”

“Why does that matter?”

“Because what if, one day, Lady Whistledown will write it is not enough? That I’m an imposter? I’m only a Rhodes as long as society accepts me as one.”

“Then I will duel every single one who dares to even suggest you’re not family.” He says it with so much vigour and determination that Pepper can’t help but snort in a not very flattering way. “You think I won’t? I’ll have you know that I’m an exceptional marksman.”

“I think someone will eventually notice it if everyone who speaks ill of me dies of a gunshot wound.”

“They wouldn’t be able to connect it to us. I will ask the Romanoff daughters for help.”

The idea is so absurd and yet, somehow, so likely – Natasha and Yelena somehow knowing thousands of ways to rid themselves of any cold body that is laid in front of them – that Pepper simply has to laugh. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees James smile, and the tension between melts away as if it had never been there in the first place. It had always been like that with them. One second, they could be arguing over the tiniest, pettiest thing, chasing each other through the entire building and fighting like cats and dogs, and the next second they would be laughing until their stomachs ached, inseparable until their next fight. It was one of the few things that made Pepper relax after spending hours and hours perfecting herself.

Now, those memories fill her with melancholy and leave a bittersweet taste in her mouth.

“This is important to me, James,” she softly says into the comfortable silence between them, eyes fixed on the black and white keys of the pianoforte. James turns his head to her. “I’ve been waiting and preparing for this moment my entire life. This, finding a good, respectable husband, will determine my worth.”

“Your worth is more than if some bloke fancies you or not,” he almost growls, clearly not happy about her words. “So much more.”

“You’re not wrong. But not in the eyes of society. And before you say anything,” she quickly continues, ignoring her brother’s already open mouth, “I can’t simply ignore their opinion, lest I plan to live as a hermit in a small cottage in the countryside, far away from everyone else. Women and men don’t have the same opportunities. I can’t attend university or travel the world like any man who is not willing to be married yet. I can’t work -”

“There are women who work.”

“Yes, and how does society view them? Besides, if you insist that I am a Rhodes, then that means I am part of the upper society class, and women from the upper society don’t work. They bear heirs and plan soirees and have tea and raise children.”

There’s a certain bitterness to her voice that Pepper can’t truly conceal, no matter how much she tries to. She wants a family, one like the Rhodes’, one that is full of love and happiness and fond memories, but she can’t help but think that it seems somewhat… humdrum. Certainly, there are a lot of women who find it very fulfilling to raise children and socialize and run a household, and she is not judging or condemning them (how could she, as an unmarried woman with no children herself? All she can do is speculate, and Pepper is aware that her opinion on these matters might change when she is a mother and wife herself), but there is something in her that longs for more.

It is the same something that makes her slow down her steps on the market when they pass two merchants discussing their businesses and – more interestingly – their business troubles, or that makes her look at all the prices, imagining what she could buy with the money in her purse and all the ways she could split it. The something that makes her sit by the window for hours, planning social events that will never happen, pondering how the entire flow would change if there was some trouble and how she would solve it. 

As much as Pepper wants to be a mother and have a family, she also longs to be… something.

“I want a happy life,” she admits, fingers running over the smooth keys. “But sadly, that completely depends on a husband who will allow me to do more, to be more. And to find a man who is willing to agree to that is rare.”

“Pepper -”

She doesn’t let him continue. Her chest clenches with unknown longing and pain, and knowing that James will no doubt apologize and promise to do better seems weirdly cruel right now. “I think I need to practice some more.”

Every kind of objection James might have gets swallowed in the music. This time, it’s a lighter melody that invites people to sway from side to side and think of memories they can never relive. Pepper keeps her eyes on the instrument, not reacting at all when her brother stands up and leaves.


Days pass. No gentleman callers wait in the drawing room of the Rhodes residence, hoping for some tea with Pepper and the lady of the house or a walk around the garden. The only good thing about that is that Lord Killian doesn’t stop by either. Pepper keeps playing the pianoforte, not talking about the situation at hand or about James’ very obvious absence from the house.

However, Pepper isn’t a coward. No matter how often Lady Whistledown taunts her and her very abrupt turn of luck and popularity, she refuses to hide from the world.

In fact, she makes it a point to go on walks at least once a day, stopping by shops and by the market, making light conversation with the other ladies of the ton and their daughters. Whenever they think themselves clever and try to hide a jab behind nice words, Pepper simply smiles, acting as if she doesn’t understand what they’re saying. When she and Lady Rhodes visit the opera, Pepper makes sure to sit at the edge of the balcony, not in the back with Lady Rhodes and Lady Carter who whisper the entire time, visible to everyone there.

She is determined to not let this destroy all of her hard work. She simply refuses to bend underneath it. This is nothing more than one of the problems she creates to make the imaginary scenarios in her head more interesting. She can solve all of this; she has done it thousands of times in her mind.

In a year, she will laugh about all of this, the gut-wrenching anxiety nothing more than an amusing anecdote to tell over dinner.

At least, that’s what Pepper tells herself when she lies in bed wide awake and the worries about her future steal her sleep.

But it gets worse.

The Vauxhall celebration, even though it is at the start of the social season, is one of the most anticipated events, thanks to not only their stunning gardens but the host’s desire to always showcase something spectacular. Everyone who believes themselves to be part of the ton, will be there.

Naturally, Pepper has to attend.

Wearing a pale blue dress, one that makes her look less like a bride and instead compliments her hair and complexion, and with her red curls flowing down her back, Pepper glides through the crowd with a smile on her face and her head held high. People stare and whisper, but since they always stare and whisper, she simply ignores them.

“Is James not coming?” Pepper asks Lady Rhodes, and she at least makes an effort to hide the hope in her voice. Maybe if he isn’t attending, some suitors might be more inclined to ask her for a dance.

Lady Rhodes’ slightly apologetic smile crashes her hopes. “He assured me he would be here, my dear.” Despite her almost cheery tone, Pepper knows that the lady is just as vexed as she about the viscount’s behaviour. They had a stern talk in James’ office the other day, and even though Pepper had tried to hear even a whisper of that conversation by working far too long pauses into the songs she was playing, the only thing she was able to notice was James storming out of the house.

“He’s not here yet,” Pepper eventually says, because she feels like she has to say something.

“No.” A pause. “Perhaps we should use that time.”

Lady Rhodes has always been a smart woman.

Letting her eyes scan the crowd, Pepper quickly locates every gentleman on her list of potential suitors that she needs to talk to to find out who would give her the closest version of the life she wants, but suddenly the sky above them lights up.

Gasping and shouting in surprise, everyone looks up. The glass ornaments hanging over their heads are shining, a small light coming to life in each orb. It is fascinatingly beautiful, almost like something out of a fairy tale. Pepper is reminded of the stories of fairies and witches she read when she was younger. If she squints her eyes, she can even imagine seeing the silhouettes of tiny wings. “This is…” Pepper can’t think of a fitting word to describe it. There’s this urge in her to reach out and touch them, finding out if they’re as warm as they look, but her hand stays at her side.

“It is magnificent what this little thing they call electricity can do, isn’t it,” Lady Rhodes wonders, staring up as well. “I believe those are light bulbs.”

Pepper lets the word roll over the tongue, getting used to it. She wonders who the kind of people are that think of such inventions and if she could ever meet one of them – they must be fascinating to talk to.

Someone grabs her arm, ripping her out of thoughts. “Sister.” James appears at her side, looking very tense, his entire body rigid, and the light from above deepens the frown on his face.

“Have you seen this?” she asks, pointing towards the glowing orbs.

However, James seems entirely unimpressed by them, even though he had always been interested in revolutionary inventions. Pepper’s gut starts twisting as she holds his stern gaze.

“James?” Lady Rhodes asks – almost demands – as she turns towards them. “What is it?”

His face turns into a stone-like mask. A terrible, terrible feeling sends a shiver down her spine.

“Lord Killian proposed and I accepted.”

Once again, Pepper is speechless, but this time it isn’t out of admiration or wonder. Her heart painfully beats in her chest, as if it is trying to break free and slap James across the face. Bile rises up in her throat.

No.

No, he has to be jesting.

“And when will your wedding be?” she asks, her voice almost venomous instead of the sweet, light tone she was aiming for. “Since you’re the one who accepted.”

“Pepper-”

“I truly hope that I’ll be invited. I would hate not to see you walk down the aisle to him.”

“You’ll be the bride,” James hisses, unable to keep his temper down now. “He asked for your hand in marriage and I accepted on your behalf.”

“That wasn’t your right to do,” Pepper hisses back. Her fists shake with anger as she tries to keep her voice low enough to not draw too much attention, and she can’t say if the tears in her eyes are from the pain or fury boiling inside of her.

“As the head of the family, it is my duty to find you a husband.”

“A good husband!”

“Lord Killian is a good man!” Pepper starts to protest, but James keeps talking. “He has never been involved in scandal, he’s not in debt, he has a title, and he’s not known to be cruel. He is a good match.”

But I don’t like him, she wants to say, but the words die on her tongue. Despite the notions of a true love match, feelings have shockingly little to do with the entire matter. A title, social status, a good reputation, and wealth are much more important. The fact that Lord Killian makes her uncomfortable has close to no sway whatsoever.

It would be a foolish reason to reject a proposal because of a feeling.

And Pepper believes herself not to be foolish.

“James, you cannot truly mean this,” Lady Rhodes says, laying a hand on Pepper’s arm. “You cannot accept a proposal for her like that.”

“Mother, you reminded me that it is my responsibility to find a good match,” James answers sternly, his hurt pride written all over his face. “Lord Killian is the best suitor Pepper has,” I have no suitors because of you, “and he has proposed. Unless you tell me a reason why I shouldn’t have accepted it, I see no reason why you shouldn’t start planning a wedding.”

The protests pile up on Pepper’s tongue. James wants her to be happy, maybe he would change his mind if she told him about her feelings – but him accepting the proposal without even asking her beforehand hurts so much.

She feels like she can’t breathe. There are too many people around her, crowding her space, making her feel trapped. Someone laughs in a high, shrill voice, a sound that pierces through her skull. The lights that suddenly seemed so magical are now burning her eyes.

She has to go.

So, Pepper turns around and hurries away, squeezing through the other guests and ignoring the shouts of her name. Her feet carry her further and further away from the feast, the chatter of the guests growing silent and the music fading away.

Eventually, she finds herself in a quiet corner of the gardens that are most likely absolutely lovely, but right now Pepper can’t appreciate it. Far away from the ever-gossiping ton and the pressure society (and she herself) puts on her, she allows herself a moment to panic.

She can’t marry Lord Killian.

She doesn’t want to marry him!

How did she end up here? She had a plan! A near perfect plan! Only a fortnight ago, she had the favour of the Queen and the grandest gossiper of all of London called her the diamond of the season. And now – now she is supposed to marry Aldrich Killian? Did she torture herself through all of the lessons and hours, days, weeks, years, of practicing for him?

“Miss Potts, what are you doing here?”

Speaking of the damned devil. It is just her luck that the man she is trying so badly to avoid finds her in this deserted corner of the garden.

“Aldrich, please, not now,” Pepper says, doing her absolute best to remind herself of her manners, choosing to pace up and down instead of cursing at him.

“Aldrich, is it? We are to drop the honorifics so soon?” He has the audacity of sounding amused, as if this is merely some kind of courting. “Then again, since we’re getting married -”

Pepper makes a snap decision.

“No,” she says sternly, finally turning around to face him and giving him a look that tolerates no objection, “we aren’t. We’re never getting married.”

Something flashes across his face. “Lord Rhodes-”

“He doesn’t speak for me. And he made a mistake, nothing more.”

For a moment, Lord Killian simply looks at her, holding Pepper’s gaze. There’s a sudden shift in his posture, a glimmer in his eyes that awakens the urge in her to take a step back. “Do you think yourself better than me?”

It is a dangerous question, she knows that. James said Lord Killian isn’t known to be cruel – but just because he isn’t known for it doesn’t mean he is not cruel. Pulling her shoulders back, she steels her spine and determination. “I think it would be best for you to leave now.”

“You should be thanking me,” he all but growls, slowly coming closer. He reminds her of her neighbour’s cat preying on a mouse. “No one wants you. I’m your last hope. I saved you.”

Suddenly, he is right in front of her, grabbing her arms with a grip that is too tight, fingers digging into her flesh in a painful way. “What are you doing?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He pulls her closer to him.

“Stop it!” Fear starts filling every inch of her body. She escapes his grip, but he chases after her, his sharp fingers reaching for her again and again. Panic makes her desperate. “Let go of me!”

Killian approaches her again, but this time, Pepper refuses to back away. Before she is entirely aware of it, her hand balls into a fist and flies forward, connecting to Killian’s face with a – quite satisfying – crunch. The man falls backwards, eyes closed and body entirely unmoving.

Pepper can do nothing but stare at her own fist in shock.

Did she just –

There’s a bark of laughter.

Pepper whirls around and looks at the Duke of Hastings, Lord Stark himself. She doesn’t know when he entered this part of the garden or why, but here he is, a wide smile stretching across his face. “Well, that was a lot more entertaining than dancing a waltz.”

“Your Grace,” she gasps, shaking her fist absentmindedly, “I had no intention of-”

“Of breaking that arsehole’s nose?” he asks, sounding absolutely delighted.

On the ground, Killian groans.

“I-I didn’t break his nose,” Pepper says, desperately trying to regain her composure.

Lord Stark steps closer to Killian, peering down on his face. “No, not quite. He certainly will be getting a nice black eye, though.” He turns his head, giving Pepper a smirk. “You could try again, if you truly want to break his nose. I can be of assistance and hold him down.”

“What are you doing here?” she asks, ignoring his jest.

Lord Stark scrunches up his nose. “Hiding from the mamas of the ton, of course.”

While Pepper had been appearing in quite some of Lady Whistledown’s articles, she hasn’t been the only one. The mysterious author never fails to mention the continuing presence of the – unmarried – duke in London, quite obviously inciting the mothers to take every opportunity they get to introduce their daughters. She has seen the back of his head at several social gatherings, but only for short moments before he ducked away to hide somewhere. She has a hunch that Lord Stark only attends those gatherings because of Lady Carter and her feared cane she isn’t afraid to use.

A different thought strikes her.

One that is even more nauseating than the possibility of marrying Killian.

“I’m alone with you,” Pepper breathes, the reality finally setting in. “I’m alone with two men in a dark garden while the entire ton is merely a few paces away!”

“Well… I would argue it is more like one man,” Lord Stark points to himself, “and one arsehole.” He points towards Killian.

“I shall be compromised just the same,” she spits out, not at all amused about the lord’s lack of seriousness. “Do you have any idea if someone-” She can’t bring herself to finish the sentence. Everything would be ruined. And worst of all, she would bring so much shame over the Rhodes family, who have been nothing but kind to her. Is this truly how she will repay them? By befouling their reputation? “I must go.”

“Marry me, Miss Potts,” Killian slurs from the ground, his head rolling from one side to the other.

Lord Stark and Pepper stare at him.

The duke clearly tries to hold back a laugh, but he’s not trying very hard. “Oh, how magnificently romantic. I truly wonder why no woman has fallen to his charms yet.”

Pepper feels like she is in a fever dream. She prays it is, one that would explain the absurdity of this entire night. “My reputation will be ruined,” she says, more to herself than any of the men – conscious or not – present. “Well… at least I would get out of marrying him, then.”

“You must be jesting,” Lord Stark exclaims, hands on his hips and looking at her like she just grew another head. “You can’t possibly think about marrying him!”

“What other choice do I have? It is not like any other gentlemen are waiting in the streets to meet me. And unlike you, I don’t have the privilege of choosing not to marry.”

“I have to confess, I was quite surprised that your eager suitors turned away. At the ball, they seemed all so eager to sign your dance card, I would’ve expected they’re willing to fight Rhodey for just a moment with you.”

His words sting. “I don’t need your mockery.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” he says. His voice is sincere and he makes a point of holding her gaze. “I truly mean it.” Pepper doesn’t know what to say to that. She certainly wasn’t expecting him to be this sympathetic towards her. “It is impossible to escape the gossip that Whistledown author spins, and believe me, I have just as little love for her as you do. Thanks to her, all of London sees me as some sort of… of…”

“Price?” Pepper offers, raising an eyebrow at his slightly stunned look. “Oh, how terrible that must feel, to not be seen for yourself but merely the name, title, and prestige you can bring one’s family. Surely, it is not something I or any other lady of the ton will ever know.” 

Lord Stark tilts his head to the side, just slightly. There’s a certain look in his eyes Pepper can’t quite place, something that makes it near impossible to look away.

However, Pepper always liked mastering an impossible task.

“I will go back,” she announces, not giving him any time to protest. “I would very much appreciate it, Your Grace, if you would wait a few minutes and then take a different path back, lest someone starts spreading rumours.”

“Rumours that would be entirely false, of course,” Lord Stark says, nodding in a way that seems both serious and not serious at all. Pepper’s glare darkens. He bows a little bit. “I will do as you suggested, Miss Potts.”

Pepper can take less than three steps before the duke calls out again.

“Unless you would like to hear my brilliant idea, that is.”

“Brilliant idea?” Despite Pepper’s better judgement, she actually turns back around. Lord Stark looks very pleased about that, leaning back onto the heels of his feet. “And what brilliant idea might that be?”

“The solution to my problem, of course.”

Why did she turn around for this? Every moment she spends here is a moment someone could spot them. “And why would I be interested in hearing the solution to your problem, while I am already quite troubled with my own problem?”

He smirks again. Even in the dark, Pepper can recognize a certain kind of mischief in his eyes. “Because it is the solution to your problem as well.”

Pepper would like to say that at least a tiny part of her isn’t interested in hearing that solution, that she tries to put as much distance between herself and the lord as possible – but that would’ve been a lie.

Truth to be told, Pepper is very interested in hearing it.

“And what might that solution look like?”

Slowly, Lord Starks strolls over to her. “Quite simple, actually. I will be courting you.”

Pepper blinks. “I beg your pardon?”

“Not really, of course, we will only be pretending.”

“I still do not see how it can help any of us.”

“Because then, Miss Potts, whenever one of the dearest mamas tries to interest me in one of their daughters, I can claim that my heart is already taken.” Theatrically, he places a hand on his chest, right over the blue brooch that he is wearing again, and dons an overly dramatic, pained face. “I’ll act as if you have bewitched me completely, body and soul, and therefore I simply can’t possibly even think about as much as looking at another lady. They will think me incredibly romantic and I have the perfect excuse to deny as many dances as I want. Except for the few you will grant me, of course. I shall only be seen dancing with you.”

The corners of Pepper’s mouth start to quiver in a traitorous way, teasing to put a smile on her face because of his overly dramatic act. She quickly schools her face back into a stony mask. “How would it help me if every gentleman thinks you are courting me?”

The smirk sneaks back on Lord Stark’s face. “Because men, and dare I say especially gentlemen, always want what they can’t have. And if you managed to grab the attention of a duke, then surely you cannot be as unworthy for their troubles as Lady Whistledown made you out to be. After all, the Queen endorsed you. Whistledown declared you a diamond of first water – prove to her that she can’t ruin your reputation that easily.”

There is something about the way he talks that entices a certain something in Pepper to come forward. She feels challenged in a similar way to when she is creating her own scenarios in her head. He prods her to not be something society expects her to be, someone who doesn’t wait until men – suitors or brothers who get to decide who is worthy – make a decision for her, but instead to be someone takes charge and makes her own decision.

It is so incredibly tempting.

But Pepper spent so many hours going over imaginary plans and creating problems for them – she would be a fool to immediately agree. “And what if the scheme doesn’t work?”

“It will work.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because my schemes always work.” Pepper raises an eyebrow. “Mostly work, then. And if it shouldn’t work – which is highly unlikely – then I will be simply off to my castle.”

“Oh, how good to know that you can escape so easily, Your Grace,” she says and squints her eyes at him. Lord Stark comes closer, way closer than really appropriate for them at the moment, or any moment, but she stays her ground. She won’t back away during this negotiation, either literally or figuratively.

Lord Stark smirks. “You didn’t let me finish, my lady. Should our scheme fail and you are not at least engaged by the end of this social season, then I will make it my personal mission to find you the perfect husband.”

It is very difficult for Pepper to not mirror his smirk. “And how would you do that?”

“I’ve got friends.”

“Besides James?”

“Who? Oh, Rhodey!” She can’t help but roll her eyes. “I’ve got other friends. Many of them, to be precise. And all of them would make absolutely wonderful husbands.”

Of course, Pepper doesn’t believe him. But that doesn’t mean she is not intrigued by his idea.

Besides, does she really have an alternative? Killian was speaking the truth – no one else wants her. This could change it. Neither Lord Stark nor she want to marry each other, so they can end this scheme as soon as they both are satisfied with the results.

What is the worst that can happen?

“So, Miss Potts,” he purrs, using the few inches he has on her because of his heeled boots to lean down to her, looking straight into her eyes, “what is your answer?”

He acts as if she hasn’t already made her decision.

Unable to keep the smirk entirely off her face, Pepper pushes her chin forward and raises her wrist with the dance card.

Lord Stark raises an eyebrow.

“If we want this to work, people need to see us,” Pepper explains, quite satisfied that now she is the one explaining something to him. “The best way to be seen is by dancing. And if you want to dance with me, you need to sign my card.”

His smile widens, showing a row of white teeth, as he signs the card with flourish, the single word Stark taking up entirely too much space. “Miss Pott, I do believe this is the beginning of a very successful partnership. Now, shall we, my lady?”

He offers her his arm to take, but in a bold move, one born from the want to surprise him again and to make this entire scheme work, she takes his hand and starts walking back to the feast. Even though she keeps her gaze straight ahead, not sparing him a single glance, she just knows he is still grinning.

The ton doesn’t notice them immediately, their attention still focused on the dance floor and the light spectacle in front and not on the gardens behind them. However, Lord Stark has the talent of drawing the attention of everyone around him if he wants to. He stands taller, not by a lot, but it seems like he turned into a giant, demanding both respect and attention from everyone he passes – and they all give it to him with no protest at all.

The moment the first heads turn towards them, surprised gasps and urgent whispers travel through the crowd. Pepper keeps her head straight ahead, not giving anyone a second glance – not even the gentlemen who are suddenly looking at her with new interest, the jealous debutants, the Romanoff sisters (who smile in a way that makes Pepper think at least one of them can see through the charade), Lady Carter, Lady Rhodes, or James.

The dance floor is empty when they reach it.

“Look me in the eyes,” Lord Stark murmurs as he bows. He pulls Pepper close – a smidge too close to be appropriate, but if she’s already learned one thing about the duke, it is that he has no high regard for appropriateness – the second she rises from her curtsy, one hand grabbing hers and the other lying on her back, keeping her in place, as she gently lays her free hand on his shoulder. “For this to work, we have to appear madly in love. You should only look at me.” He smirks. “But I have been told that shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Pepper puts the loveliest smile she perfected on her face. “Whoever told you that was lying.” For a split moment, Lord Stark seems surprised and then he smiles again. But instead of looking smug, it is genuinely amused. “But you don’t need to worry. I’m committed to this. And now, I really hope you dance well enough to not step on my toes, Your Grace. I would hate to have broken toes by the end of the season.”

“Do not worry, my lady. I will keep your toes safe.”

Then, the music starts playing and they start gliding across the dance floor, with no toe ever getting stepped on.

Notes:

So the plot thickens!

I know Rhodey is a bit of a overprotective prick right now, but the story kinda needs him to be one. Don't worry, he'll change back in chapter 5. The next chapter will focus on Tony and his journey, and I'm really excited to see what I've done with his story.

As always, I survive on comments and hearing your opinion, so please feed me if you have the time :)

Chapter 3: The Duke's Journey

Notes:

Hi everyone! :)

Once again thank you to everyone who left me some kind of feedback in any form, either through comments, kudos, or bookmarks, they really make my day! ❤

This chapter focuses on Tony's past and it is a mix between his MCU past and the life of the duke in Bridgerton, but I thought they actually work quite nice together. You can let me know in a comment if that's true or not ;)

A big thank you - as always - to ghostly-blues for beta-reading this chapter!

Enjoy! :)

Chapter Text

Great joy and great tragedy often go hand in hand.

Anthony ‘Tony’ Stark is reminded of that constantly, for only mere minutes after he was born, his mother passed away. His father, Lord Howard Stark, didn’t notice her passing until many hours later, long after he proudly showed off his heir and celebrated with his friends with plenty of wine, the boy already handed off to a foster mother.

From then on, their relationship only gets worse. Tony often thinks his father is only proud of the fact that he was born a boy.

The Duke of Hastings doesn’t really bother himself with spending a lot of time with his son, leaving him in the care of his servants, aside from parading him around other lords and ladies. Tony isn’t too saddened by it – after all, he doesn’t know any different. And they are nice to him, so much nicer than his own father. In particular, Tony loves spending time with their butler Jarvis and his wife Ana. The butler, even though he mostly tends to the needs of the duke, being at his assistance whenever he calls for him, always goes out of his way to encourage and praise him, and Ana teaches him with the patience of a saint.

From the very first moment, Tony is a very bright kid, his eagerness to learn about the world around him not only thanks to Jarvis and Ana’s encouragement, but because of his insatiable curiosity. He is a quick study, able to read and write and count way before his peers, and after a first initial shyness of the tall animals, he is a natural at horseback riding. His most impressive feat are his nifty fingers, however, taking everything apart and rebuilding it in a different way before anyone even realizes what’s happening. He is mischievous, but in a charming way, his big eyes helping him to avoid too much trouble.

Truth to be told, he is the kind of boy every parent would be proud of.

Except for one thing.

Tony hears the heavy steps of the duke only seconds before his voice booms through the room. “Why isn’t he talking?”

“He simply needs a little more time,” Ana tries to calm him down. Tony keeps his eyes on the parchment in front of him, but the quill has stilled in his hands as his heart beats almost painfully against his chest. “Compared to other children his age, he is far more advanced. Numbers in particular seem-”

“I do not care about that!” the duke yells, and Tony tries and fails not to flinch at the loud, sharp voice. “He needs to speak! He is four years old, he should have at least uttered a sound years ago! The Prince is already speaking in full, sharp sentences and he’s younger than this boy!”

“Your Grace, you’re scaring him-”

“If that is what it takes for him to make a sound, then so be it!”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Tony sees a movement – his father’s raised hand – and before he can recognize the feeling inside him as fear, he turns around, his reckless obstreperousness taking control of his body, and levelling the tall, imposing man with a hard glare. “No!”

The duke stares at him, his hand still raised, and a look of utter confusion crossing over his face – either because of his son saying something or because of his disobedience. Tony stays strong and doesn’t shrink away. In all of the portraits that line the halls, he looked a lot nicer; more like a father. “What did you say?”

Tony keeps his mouth shut, but his eyes flicker to Ana. There are tears in her eyes despite the encouraging smile she gives him.

“Speak!”

“D-D-D-D-Do,” he starts, scraping together every single ounce of courage in his tiny body, trying to not fold as realization flashes over the duke’s face, “n-n-no-no-not“ Tony can’t finish the sentence, his words getting swallowed by his too fast and too shallow breathing as an invisible hand grabs his throat and squeezes.

“You’re,” the duke says slowly, as if that would make the words less true, “you’re… an imbecile.”

Tony doesn’t know what that word means, but he has heard it from a few servants when they whispered about him and thought he couldn’t hear them.

“Your Grace, Anthony is exceptionally sharp,” Ana says, her usually soothing voice almost angry. “I’ve never met a child who-”

“He is an idiot!” the duke screams at Ana, and if Tony would have been any braver, and maybe a little taller, he would’ve jumped up to protect her. However, he is only four and tiny and scared. The man that calls himself his father turns back around to him, his face pulled into a grimace of anger. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve brought shame onto our family! You were supposed to be my legacy, to carry on our proud family name, but instead you are-“ he looks him up and down, a snarl on his lips. “You are a disgrace.”

Tears are spilling out of his eyes before Tony can stop them. Ana is saying something, but the duke has already turned around. He dismisses everything she says with a sharp: “This boy is not my son! He is dead to me!”

The same day, Tony is told to step into a carriage that will bring him away – he’s not told where to. The duke doesn’t come to see him off, and Tony isn’t upset about it. It gives him more time to hug Jarvis and Ana goodbye.

The journey to his new home is long, a cottage far away in the countryside with only a few servants to help him. They’re all very nice to him and his new teacher provides him with new things to learn every day, but Tony can’t help but long for the people he knows. He doesn’t speak, only shaking his head or nodding and pointing to things he wants, never uttering even a single sound.

Every day is the same and soon enough, they start morphing into a timeless mess, a simple repetition of waking up, eating, learning, and going to sleep. He’s not happier than at his old home, but he’s not exactly sadder either.

And then, his entire life changes.

Unlike the last time someone interrupted his studies, Tony doesn’t hear the footsteps first.

“So, you are actually alive,” someone says, and the boy can’t help but jump up in his seat in surprise and turn around. There’s a woman standing by the door – some kind of lady, judging by her detailed dress – with a smirk on her face and her brown hair that is already streaked with a few grey hairs curled in a fashionable way. He is certain he has never seen her before. “The entire ton thinks you are dead and your father didn’t even try once to convince anyone of the opposite.”

Tony keeps quiet, not knowing what to say. The memory and hurt from what happened the last time he tried to speak to someone is still too fresh.

“Well?” The lady says, coming closer with an air of confidence Tony usually only sees from a highborn man. “Why are you kept here, so far away from everyone else, as a well-kept secret?”

There is something about the lady – not the confidence or the directness of her words, but something that catches one’s attention and fascination – that makes Tony open his mouth for the first time in a long while. “I-I-I-I c-c-can’t spe-spe-spe-speak.”

Just like with the duke, something flashes across the lady’s face, a mixture of confusion and pity that Tony doesn’t like. He braces himself for the inevitable, for her to call him a simpleton, turn around and leave, for her to never grace him with another glance and instead gush over the Prince and his accomplishments – the same way the duke did.  

However, that doesn’t happen.

The look on the lady’s face changes, the pity suddenly gone as fast as it had appeared as she takes two careful steps closer. “When I grew up, people tried to silence me as well,” she says, her voice steady yet comforting. “Men tried to silence me, because they thought I should not speak because I am a woman. They tried to frighten me into silence, but I refused to obey. I sharpened my wit, my tongue, and my mind and didn’t allow them to speak over me even once. Instead of being frightened, I became frightening – the most terrifying creature in any room I entered. Soon, they were the ones too frightened to speak.”

Tony stares at the lady in awe as she crouches down right in front of him, taking another moment to look at him before clasping his hands.

“You can speak,” she says with so much determination that Tony almost believes it. “I understood you well enough. And I can help you overcome this little stutter of yours, even turn you into someone who is never afraid to speak his mind, least of all to speak in general. All I ask for in return is that you will be a man worthy of the attention you will command.”

He doesn’t think about her words, too tempted by the prospect of learning how to speak, to not be silent for the rest of his life, to regain the attention of Lord Stark, and he simply nods.

The lady smiles, showing all of her teeth and a warm glow in her eyes as she squeezes his hands again. “Very well, boy. Now, tell me your name. I want to hear you say it.”

His heart beats in his throat, but he draws strength from the lady. “T-T-T-To-To-Tony.”

“It is my pleasure to meet you, Tony. I am Lady Margaret Carter, and I think it is time I bring you to your new home.”

Somehow, Lady Carter defies everything Tony has ever known about anything. She is strict, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t kind or loving. She is smart and cunning and yet she pretends not to be if it gets her further ahead. Whenever someone tells her no, she smiles and nods and does the exact opposite of what they told her. She knows she is breaking every socially acceptable standard and she isn’t the least bit apologetic for it. Lady Carter seems to have her own rules for the world, and Tony believes hers are much more sensible than the rules of society, so he adopts them, not really caring if his actions are seen as inappropriate or not, as long as Lady Carter will smirk at his antics in the way he knows she approves but can’t say it for one reason or another.

The lady keeps her promise of teaching Tony to speak fluently. It takes almost frustratingly long, but Lady Carter doesn’t allow Tony to lose hope and give up. She makes sure to always engage him in conversation, staying patient and her eyes never straying from his as she waits for him to stumble through an answer, not rushing him once. The servants are doing the same, only reacting to his words, no matter how long an answer might take him, and never whispering unkind words behind his back. Lady Carter shows him breathing techniques and helps him overcome his fear of talking by asking him about his passions. To encourage him even further, she fosters those passions, giving him countless books about science, having a blacksmith come by to teach him to wield the tools, and inviting scholars from universities from all of the British Empire to explain to him the wonders of the world. On those days, it is impossible for Tony to keep quiet during their dinner, talking and talking and talking with only a few stutters in between.

Once Tony realises he can talk, he also realises he loves talking. He has been silent for too long and he vows to never go back to it. However, Lady Carter hadn’t simply helped him speak and fed his curiosity for knowledge, she also sharpened his wit, teaching him how to disarm anyone with just a few right words. Tony is certain that it had not been the lady’s intention, but seeing as she doesn’t rebuke him too much for his cheeky barbs, he can’t help but think the lady enjoys his humour.

However, Tony knows Lady Carter is also preparing him to face the duke again. The thought alone makes his throat dry and his heart race, the stutter that has all but vanished back again. Tony is certain that the duke won’t appreciate seeing him – if he had wanted to see Tony, he would’ve answered even a single one of the hundreds of letters he has sent him, instead of being busy visiting the Prince.

Lady Carter tries her best to ease him into it. He is told to speak more with his teachers and the servants. When they visit the market, he is the one to talk to the merchants. They are invited to dinner with a viscount and his family in London, and even though Tony has no idea that the boy will become his best friend and that he changes a certain girl’s name by uttering a single word and making it her future nickname, it is a very pleasant evening without a single stutter.

Then, he has to face Lord Stark.

Tony chooses his finest coat for the visit – an unannounced visit, for Lady Carter jested that the lord might barricade the doors if he knows they are on their way – and he goes over what he wants to say so many times, the words are imprinted on his eyelids. Lady Carter stays by his side the entire time, a reassuring force that keeps him calm. The servants of the duke look at him with big eyes, like they can’t believe he’s really dared to come back here. Tony hopes to see Jarvis and Ana somewhere, but they reach the duke’s study too soon for that.

Lady Carter doesn’t knock. She simply walks into the study as if it is her own home.

The duke glances up from the letter he’s writing for a mere second. “I cannot remember inviting you to my home, Lady Carter. Or into my study, for that matter.”

“You didn’t,” she answers in a clipped voice before beckoning Tony forwards with a flick of her wrist. Mustering the strength he tried to imitate from the lady, he steps out of her shadow and stands in front of the gigantic desk, head held high, hands clasped behind his back and holding the duke’s – very surprised – gaze. “But I thought you would like to know that your son is still alive. It would pain me greatly to know that you belong to the rest of the ton who believe him dead.”

The duke allows the surprise to only flash across his face for a second, before he clasps his hands in front of him on the desk, his face turning to stone. “What is the point of your visit?” Despite looking straight at him, Tony knows the question is directed to Lady Carter.

Tony answers anyway. “I am receiving high marks in all of my studies, sir,” he says smoothly and sharp, every single letter intelligible. The duke blinks in surprise, standing up from his seat. Tony feels emboldened by it. “I fence, I shoot and I am an excellent horseman. I have learned about science and inventions from the best scholars in the world.”

The duke comes closer, dark eyes pinned on him. Suddenly, the confidence that just filled Tony seconds ego, seems to lapse. His heart starts racing in his chest as the words the duke has called him the last time they saw and the whispered words of the staff echo in his mind.

“My teachers tell me again and again that I will write the book that will change the world one day.”

The duke comes even closer.

“I even-” The word gets stuck in Tony’s throat, choking him. Desperately trying to ignore the duke’s eyes that immediately darken, he takes a deep breath and remembers how far he’s come. “I e-even…”

The words die on his tongue as fear takes over every atom in his body.

The duke’s face is heartbreakingly resigned. “You are my worst failure,” he says with as much emotion as he would talking about the weather and turns back around to his desk, seemingly done with him.

Something cold settled in Tony’s stomach, but he refuses to let anyone see the tears that threaten to well up in his eyes.

“I beg your pardon?” Lady Carter hisses in an almost calm way – the voice she always uses when she is angry beyond measure.

“I’m sure you do,” Lord Stark mutters, not even bothering to look up from his parchment again.

“I shan’t again,” she snarls back. “Might I remind you that this boy is to be the next Duke of Hastings, and that he deserves at least enough fatherly attention and love – which is, frankly, not rich in your frigid heart – to write a flattering eulogy for you?”

“You are free to remind me of that as often as you want,” the duke says, already writing again. “As long as you also remember your place. Which is out of my sight and with your mouth shut.”

Tony wants to scream and rage – how dare this man speak to Lady Carter in such an unrespectful way? But even that fury isn’t enough to overcome the pain and fear that still takes a hold of him.

“His mother-” Lady Carter begins, her voice rising with her anger.

“Her mother was just as useless as he is,” Lord Stark snaps back, finally looking up from his work. “It is already enough that he will inherit my title one day, I will not watch his struggle as well. So, I shall do the same with him as I did with his mother.” His eyes move to Tony and they’re so full of hatred, they steal all the air out of his lungs. “Pretend they never sullied these halls.”

The tears burn painfully in his eyes, but before they can fall, Lady Carter takes his arm and all but yanks him out of the room and down the halls. They pass quite a few servants, but Tony doesn’t look at them, not even in the hopes of seeing Jarvis or Ana, too ashamed by the duke’s words. She doesn’t slow down until they’re in the carriage and she gives sharp, too-loud orders to bring them home.

A tear slips out of Tony’s eyes and he angrily wipes it away.

“Look at me, boy,” Lady Carter says. There’s still anger in her voice, but it is more of an underlying soft tone, letting him know that her anger isn’t directed at him. Reluctantly, he lifts his gaze to meet her and she takes his hands, squeezing them once. “Your father’s opinion of you does not define you. Do you understand that?”

Tony nods, because he knows it is what the lady wants to see.

Judging by the way she purses her lips, she knows the answer wasn’t sincere. “He is a fool for rejecting you like this. For holding onto his stern ways, unable and unwilling to change his mind. He will deeply regret not seeing you grow up and become who you’re destined to be. And you’re destined to be anything you want, Tony. He has no power over your path, no right to choose what kind of man you will be.”

He nods again, this time telling himself that he believes her words, but the tears continue running down his cheeks.

Lady Carter lets go of one of his hands and lays her hand against the cheek, brushing the wetness away with her gloved fingers and forcing him to look at her. “He is wrong. You are not a failure. You are not useless.” Tony spends the rest of the carriage ride crying in her arms.

He continues to live with Lady Carter, and over time, her words get easier to believe. Whenever he reads about the Duke of Hastings in the papers, about him meeting the Prince or simply visiting the opera or dancing with way too young ladies at some ball, Tony feels the icy rage fill his veins still, but he learns to distract himself until it melts away.

They never talk about that short afternoon visit, and only mention the duke when they absolutely have to.

Lady Carter continues to help him speak, and soon enough he can talk so smoothly, no one would ever think he hadn’t been born already talking. And he learns how much power words can have. He wields them like a rapier during his fencing lessons, knowing what he has to say to charm his way out of trouble or insult someone without them noticing.

He also pursues his passion for science, of course. Scholars continue to teach him, but way too soon they can no longer answer his never-ending questions, blinking in confusion while Tony is already thinking about the next thing. He all but devours the books of Galileo, da Vinci, Archimedes, Newton, Franklin, Watt, Fulton and every other scholar who changed the way one looked at the world. When he reads Volta’s theories about something called electricity, Tony marvels at it, already imagining how it could change the future.

They build a small smithery for him in the backyard as it becomes apparent that he can’t keep his fingers still. In fact, Tony only seems at ease when there is something in his hands that he can form and mould, creating something completely new. It doesn’t matter if it is something that requires him to wield the heaviest sledgehammer he can find or if it’s something so small and intricate that he sits hunched over a table for hours, his eyes hurting from concentrating so long – as long as he’s building something, he is content.

However, his eagerness means one other thing: school.

“I don’t want to go,” Tony says – one might even say he sulks – over dinner as Lady Carter once more starts talking about university.

“You are a smart boy,” she answers, pausing cutting through the meat on her plate for a moment. “The teachers that come here can’t teach you anything new. If you want to keep that curiosity of yours burning, you have to continue feeding the flames.”

“According to your analogy, I am all but destroying my current teachers.”

Lady Carter raises an eyebrow. “Have you seen the looks on their faces when they leave here? They all look like they are doubting their calling.” Tony has the audacity to not look ashamed. “Oxford will be good for you. Full of intelligent people who want to learn.”

“I heard other things about it,” he mutters, though judging by her face, the lady still heard him. “I will be younger than all of the other students.”

“Are you worried that you won’t be able to keep up with them?”

“More like they won’t be able to keep up with me.”

“Then what is the problem?” She has the special challenging tone in her voice that usually means she’s about to win an argument. “You will learn, which you enjoy. You will meet new people that are closer to your own age, which can only be beneficial for you. You will have plenty of opportunities to show off how smart you are, which is one of your favourite vain sins. Why don’t you want to go?”

Tony keeps his gaze pinned to the peas on his plate. It takes him a few seconds to answer. “I don’t want to leave here.”

Lady Carter doesn’t react immediately. In fact, she is silent for so long that Tony has to look up to reassure himself she’s actually still there. Her face is characteristically unreadable. “Very well,” she says after a heartbeat and resumes eating her dinner, “you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Tony squints his eyes. This was… far too easy. “It is your decision. You are your own man. However, I do believe that I raised a young man who would not be too frightened to pursue his dreams. Especially when he can easily return home whenever he wants and is very capable of writing letters.”

Tony groans deeply, knowing he has to accept his defeat.

How is it that he can best everyone but Lady Carter in a battle of wits?

Oxford is not as dreadful as Tony thought it to be – a fact that he, of course, never admits to Lady Carter. Judging by the smirk on her face, though, he doesn’t need to say it. It is the first time he is really around people his own age and standing, and a decent amount of them are able to at least somewhat keep up with him. The rest think him too arrogant and prideful – which he is – but they are still quick to flock around him once they find out who he really is; or, more importantly, who he will become.

The best thing about Oxford isn’t their phenomenal library or the professors who feed his curiosity with new information or the attention he gets (no matter how fake or shallow it is) – no, the best thing about Oxford is James Rhodes.

Tony doesn’t recognize the young man living across the hall from him immediately – in fact it is James who talks to him first, mentioning that they had already met years before. Since he is a nice enough fellow, Tony has no objection to sitting next to him during meals or lectures, occasionally studying together well into the night. The first time the name Rhodey slips over Tony’s lips is when he is half asleep and his friend is dragging him out of the library, and since then, Tony has barely called him anything else.

Before Tony even knows when or how it happens, James turns into his dearest friend, and even though James always makes sure to roll his eyes at his antics, he also listens with a smile on his face when Tony starts a discussion with yet another professor just to spite him.

However, he doesn’t appreciate all of Tony’s ideas.

Like this one, one that causes him to wake up in the middle of the night to Tony banging his elbow against the door. “Someone better be dying,” James hisses as he opens his door, half asleep and half dressed. Apparently, he doesn’t like being woken up like this.

“Quite the opposite, actually.”

For a second, James looks at him in confusion before he notices what Tony is carrying. “Are those… puppies?”

“Well, they aren’t birds,” Tony answers, already striding into James’ room despite not being invited in. Once the door is closed, he finally sets the pair of mutts onto the ground, still completely drenched, but seemingly happy to not be on the street anymore.

“Since when are animals permitted in the school?”

“They aren’t. Which is why we have to hide them.”

“Excuse me, we? When did I become a part of this?”

“Look at them!” Tony gathers the dogs back in his hands, thrusting them towards James to see. “Are you really willing to let them be all by themselves? Look at how small they are! They wouldn’t survive a day! Can you live with that on your mind?”

James rolls his eyes in the way he usually does when he thinks Tony is being theatrical, but he sits down on the ground with him nevertheless, holding out a hand for the pups to sniff at. “Why do you have them in the first place?”

“They were in a box by the street, looking all,” lonely, “wet. And you know my bottomless, good heart, Rhodey. I couldn’t just leave them there.”

“Do you know how much trouble we will be in if we get caught?”

Tony can’t help but smirk at the fact that James said we. The man might act like it is his duty to reign Tony in, but he enjoys the shenanigans just as much as Tony. “Ah, but that’s the important part. If we get caught. Which we won’t.”

And surprisingly, no one seems to notice the two puppies, even when they start to grow. Tony and James sneak food for them out of the refectory, and take them out of the building between lectures and at odd hours, when all the other students are occupied with other things. It is not easy – in fact, it is a disaster more often than not, but neither of the young men even think about giving the dogs away.

“You should have thought about names for them,” James says one day as they are taking the dogs for a walk. They have already grown twice their size and it’s getting more and more difficult to keep them hidden, especially with their seemingly never-ending desire to rip everything apart they can get their paws on.

“You make it sound like it was solely my responsibility to name them. As their parent, you should have-”

James interrupts him with bark of laughter. “I am not their parent. Not with the way they are attached to you. I am an uncle at best.”

Tony rolls his eyes, hiding his smile behind a frown. “It’s too late for names, anyway. They only listen to dummy and you respectively.” Both dogs perk up when they hear the words they’ve come to believe are their own.

“You can’t possibly be telling people that those are their names.”

“Of course not. Their names are Dominicus and Uther, which will be shortened to-”

“To Domi and U. Clever.”

“I’m glad you finally recognize my genius, Rhodey,” Tony says with a smile which James doesn’t even grace with a roll of his eyes.

No, Oxford truly isn’t as horrible as Tony thought it would be – until all of it comes to a crashing halt when one Mr. Obadiah Stane is waiting for him. The steward of the Duke of Hastings.

That can only mean one thing.

Less than an hour later, Tony sits in a carriage that will bring him to the residence of the dying duke. He had hoped this wouldn’t happen for many more years, not necessarily because he cared so much about the duke’s wellbeing, but because he knows that his life will change once he inherits the title. New responsibilities he doesn’t want, new expectations he couldn’t care less about.

When they arrive at the mansion, it is the middle of the night. The entire building is eerily quiet, the only sounds his footsteps echoing through the halls as candles flicker around him.

Tony likes to think he had gotten over the duke’s rejection, but the moment he steps into his bedchambers and sees the man lying there, so close to death that one can already feel the grim reaper hiding behind the corner, he is overcome with an unknown fury. That man rejected him again and again for a little stammer, claiming him unworthy, and now that man lies in that bed, barely able to breathe and recognize what is going on around him, not at all a paragon of the grace he claimed to care so much about.

Tony should have some form of sympathy for him, he knows that.

But he doesn’t. Not the tiniest bit.

Slowly, he walks closer to the bed, waiting until the duke finds the strength to look at him and recognize the young man standing beside him. His eyes light up with something like hope as he weakly reaches out, trying to grasp him. “My son,” he breathes, clearly struggling with the words, “you have returned.”

If there truly had been even an inkling of sympathy in him, it would have been quenched by those words. The fury in him grows into an all-consuming inferno. How dare this man call him his son?

“My heart swells with pride,” the duke whispers, interrupted by a wet cough, “to see that you will continue the Stark family.”

Then and there, in that moment, Tony makes a decision – most likely the most important decision in his entire life.

“I thought I am not your son,” Tony says in an icy voice, looking down at the duke. “You certainly had no interest in being a father.” The duke stares at him, gasping like a fish on dry land, unable to get a single vowel over his lips. “I can’t stop you from dying, of course, and I suppose the Devil will be happy to have his right hand man back. However, I can make a vow.”

Tony leans closer until his mouth is right by the ear of the duke.

“I will never marry. I will never sire an heir. The Stark line will die with me.”

The duke chokes, reaches for him, grabs his arm, but Tony can easily shake himself free of it as he stands back up.

“I hope my words were clear enough for you to understand, Your Grace. You hated them with such vigour in the past, I know that.”

The duke continues to gasp, trying to reach for him again. Tony takes a step back. “Have you nothing to say to that? You were never shy to share your opinion before. Simply tell me if you disagree with my vow.”

Nothing but wet, violent coughs fill the room.

“Speak!”

Lord Stark stares at Tony, eyes full of something he has no desire to decipher. Not gracing him with another look, he turns around and walks out of the room with his head held high. The coughs follow him, echoing through the halls – until they suddenly stop.

Tony doesn’t stop, not until someone calls for him.

“Your Grace.” It takes him a moment to realize that he is being addressed – that he is now Lord Stark, Duke of Hastings.

It feels like someone dropped a mountain on his shoulders.

Tony turns around, seeing Mr. Stane standing behind him, bowing once their eyes meet. “My deepest condolences,” the man says. Tony simply nods. “I have worked for the late duke for many years, and I would be honoured to offer my services to you, Your Grace. Since the late duke fell ill, I have been managing the estate and finances in his stead and I am familiar with the process. If you wish to return to Oxford to finish your education, I would be honoured to dutifully look after these affairs.”

“Yes, do that,” Tony answers, waving his hand through the air, trying to seem nonchalant. “Manage everything in my absence. Until I return.”

And then, the new Duke of Hasting steps out of the mansion and doesn’t return for many years.

He doesn’t have a plan what to do next, not really, it is more a deep urge to run. He does return to Oxford, but not to finish his studies with the rest of the peers. After a lengthy discussion and a generous donation, Tony graduates within a few days with some of the highest marks in the school’s history. James tries his best to talk to him, but Tony turns as slippery as an eel, fobbing him off with vague answers. He pays a lad handsomely to bring Domi and U to Lady Carter together with a short letter that explains he will work through his grief by travelling the continent and that he will return soon.

Tony knows she will see through all of those lies at once, but by the time she has the letter in her hands, he’s already on a ship to France.

While many young men decide to travel before they take up their responsibilities to broaden their horizon and to mature, Tony knows he isn’t like any of them. He is not looking to grow, he is looking for a distraction.

And he finds plenty.

Some distractions are in the form of fine wines and liquors, others are beautiful and warm bodies pressed against his, and some are words written in old books and discussions with scholars. During the day, he’ll visit universities and other famous landmarks, finding the smartest people in the country to discuss theories and possibilities the future might hold – and during the night, he will walk into the first tavern he sees and start drinking until he forgets why he ran from England in the first place. He almost always wakes up in some stranger’s bed, sneaking away before they can wake up.

Tony never stays too long at one place, for he fears that Lady Carter might find him. He enjoys the anonymity of being just some traveller and, sometimes, if the mood strikes him in just the right way, he tells each stranger he meets a different story about himself. Sometimes, he is running away from an arranged marriage, other times he is looking for a forgotten treasure, once or twice he even made up a story about looking for a distant relative of his – he never tells anyone who he truly is and what he is truly running away from.

Which doesn’t mean that nobody recognizes him. Every now and again, he stumbles over a gentleman or a married couple from London, someone who recognizes his face. That is the new Duke of Hastings! There are no other words that make him reach for more brandy faster, and those nights often end with no memories at all and a headache that feels like someone split his head in half.

And because the ton of London loves to gossip, and especially over something as scandalous as a young duke becoming such a rake, Tony knows that most likely all of England already knows how exactly he is grieving. So, he keeps moving before the gossip can reach his ears.

He travels all of Europe, staying in one place for as long as he is interested, with nothing holding him down. Sometimes, it is the taverns and warm bodies that keep him occupied, sometimes it is the knowledge he is gaining by visiting new libraries. Italy steals his heart – a beautiful landscape filled with beautiful people and delicious wine and food, rich in its history, home to geniuses like da Vinci and Galileo; and his mother’s birthplace.

Tony doesn’t think about his mother often, seeing as the only memory of her he has is staring at her portrait. Lady Carter had told him a few stories, but not enough to soothe the ache in his heart. When he travels through the countryside and stops in small villages, seeing mothers look after their children, he often wonders if his mother would have been the same.

Once Tony gets tired of Italy and he still has no desire to return to England, he picks a destination that is a bit… further away. He always wanted to see China, he tells himself as he picks his new route. Along the way, he makes many stops in places like Greece and the Ottoman Empire, his skin now constantly tanned from all of the sun, and the idea of returning to rainy London seems more and more unalluring.

However, fate seems to want him back in London.

Travelling alone, Tony makes his way through a rather isolated piece of land, not quite desert yet, but brown rocks and mountains all around him, emerging out of the sandy ground with scarcely any plants (Years later, he would still wonder where they hid, how they managed to be invisible in such a terrain.) It happens without the slightest of warnings. One moment his horse is trotting through the heat while he wonders where the next tavern is, the next there is a loud bang and pain erupts across his entire chest. He falls from his horse, though he is barely aware of it, too immobilized by the pain. Hands pull at him, taking his coat, rummaging through his pockets, kicking him in the stomach and face until everything around him turns black.

A part of Tony doesn’t think he will open his eyes again – but he does.

Strangely enough, he is not lying on that road, but in a small, humble camp bed. The air is stale and sweltering hot, making him feel like he can’t fill his lungs. Tony takes a deep breath and immediately gasps in pain.

“It will hurt for a little while longer,” a voice with a heavy accent says from somewhere out of his line of vision. Panic takes a hold of Tony and he tries to move around, tries to see who it is that is holding him here, but the pain in his chest barely allows him to move his head. “You shouldn’t strain yourself, Your Grace.”

Finally, the person talking to him steps into view and Tony is a bit baffled. The man doesn’t look threatening, tall and lanky, balding, with glasses perched on his nose, a bit too thin to look entirely healthy. He gives Tony a small smile as he settles on the side of the bed.

“What happened?” Tony rasps.

“You have been robbed and shot in the chest.”

That would explain the pain. But it doesn’t explain something else. “How am I still alive?”

“Because I found you and removed the bullet from your body,” the man explains as he reaches inside one pocket and pulls out a ball, smaller than a marble children play with. “You had someone protecting you, Your Grace. Not only am I one of the few people insane enough to live out here, I also used to be a doctor.”

There are a million questions running through his mind, but the most insignificant one stumbles out of his mouth first. “You know who I am?”

“Many people have heard of the young duke who seems so determined to travel the world and learn about the greatest minds that ever walked this earth.”

“Oh? Is that truly the only thing they say about me?”

The man smirks. “No. But it is the only thing I am interested in.” Tony laughs, which is a mistake. A new wave of pain runs through his body, making him shout out in pain. “You need to rest. Your body needs time to heal.”

“What’s your name?” Tony mumbles, feeling the strong pull of sleep already grabbing him.

“You may call me Yinsen.”

The first days are all muddled, one grotesque fever dream Tony can remember little about. At one point, he is certain he will die in that little cot in the middle of nowhere, away from the only people he considers his family. He must have muttered those words, because Yinsen keeps pulling him back into the world of the living, asking him if this is really how a duke dies, if this is really how he intends his life to end – and Tony, always too stubborn for his own good, refuses to die like this.

He can’t say how many days pass, but eventually his fever breaks and Tony can distinguish reality from his dreams again. Yinsen stays by his side, treating his wound, cooking, cleaning, telling Tony about himself. He talks about his wife and children as if they are about to return at any moment, but there is no trace of them in the entire cot, and Tony suspects that they will never come. The cot and everything inside it is simple and functional, just enough that one can live – the only thing that stands out is a geode, tinted in blue hues Tony has never seen before. He once asks Yinsen about it, but he only answers that it was a gift from his wife and offers no further explanation. For once in his life, Tony doesn’t ask any further questions.

“Why are you travelling?” Yinsen asks him one night as they are playing a round of chess.

Tony moves a pawn, sniffing once. “To see the world.”

“You have already seen more than most people do in fifty lifetimes.”

Yinsen has a talent the man might not even be aware of – he can strip down Tony’s defences as easily as Lady Carter. “I don’t want the responsibility of being a duke,” he mutters, keeping his eyes on the board. “The late duke wasn’t… He wasn’t a kind man to me. He never believed that I would be good enough for it.”

“And you believe him?” Tony only shrugs, not knowing how to explain the hurricane of emotions in him that overtake whenever he thinks about the late duke. “Your privilege comes with responsibility, Your Grace. The lives of the people you reign over depend on you. Or do their lives not matter to you?”

For the first time in a very long time, Tony loses a game of chess.

A few days later, Tony starts his journey back to England.

“Thank you for saving my life,” he says as he shakes Yinsen’s hand as a goodbye. “I don’t know how to repay you.”

“Don’t waste your life,” Yinsen answers with a smile. “Too many depend on it.” Despite the warm tone, it feels like a threat – however, this time Tony isn’t running away from it; he is racing towards it.

Tony only stops when he has to, not giving in to the temptation of night company or interesting conversations. Instead, he focuses like a madman, something tight in his chest (his chest that is now scarred as a reminder that he needs to get his act together, and although the scar is almost tiny, thanks to Yinsen’s talented hands, it is the only thing Tony can see when he sees his own reflection in a mirror) whenever he thinks about all the time he spent with distractions instead of doing his duties.

In his haste, he completely forgot to send a letter to Lady Carter, informing her about his return – and that he is still alive. The first words that escape his mouth when he stands in the drawing room in her mansion in London, the first time they have seen each other in years, don’t help either. “When did you get so old that you need a cane?”

Tony finds out that the tip of the cane is very sharp in a painful way before he gets engulfed in one of her hugs. They both ignore the tears glistering in their eyes. As they sit on the terrace, overlooking the lush gardens with Domi and U fighting for their attention, Tony tells her about his travels – except for Yinsen. Of course, Lady Carter can sense that he is keeping something a secret, but for the first time since they know each other, she doesn’t challenge him about it.

Only a few days after his arrival at London, there is a package arriving for him with a letter written in broken English. Yinsen died and he left instructions to send this to him. Immediately, Tony’s heart aches as he realizes Yinsen must have died only a couple of days after he left. Opening the package with nifty fingers, he sees the blue geode. Or what’s left of it, since it must have broken during the journey, shards covering the bottom of the package, shining and glistening in the light.

For a moment, he simply stares at it.

Then, he walks into the smithery, crafting a brooch out of some of the shards before riding off towards his own mansion, the residence of the Duke of Hastings.

Tony doesn’t know who might have sent a letter to the residence as a warning, but when he arrives at the mansion, Mr. Stane is already gone – most likely because he knew Tony would drive him away once he saw the state of the village he is supposed to care for. He should have assured himself about Stane’s credibility before he left him in charge for years, but he’d been too preoccupied with his own anger and bitterness to think ahead.

Feeling the pain from the healed wound in his chest and seeing the reflection of the brooch, Tony goes to work to fix the mistakes of his carelessness – which is easier said than done. In all of his years of studying, he never had any interest in learning how to run an estate or govern a village for that matter. Yes, he has a sharp mind and is practiced in spending hours and hours just reading, but that doesn’t mean he understands it right away, no matter how unwilling he is to admit that.

Finding solutions for problems is much easier when they don’t impact so many lives. He needs to find solutions that help his people right now and that will remain sustainable for the future. And whenever he does find a solution for one problem, it appears that it also creates three more problems. He desperately needs someone who teaches him how to do it.

Fortunately, he knows someone who can.

Unfortunately, that someone is Lady Carter, and she is not an easy bargaining partner.

“I will teach you how to handle all of it,” she says one day during a visit as they stroll through the gardens, the hounds running around them.

“And under what conditions?” Tony asks, because it is never this easy.

Lady Carter smirks. “You will spend the entire social season in London.”

His glare darkens. “I won’t marry.”

She rolls her eyes, as if he is simply a boy claiming he is not tired yet. “If you think that statement will save you from going to balls, you are mistaken. You need to re-enter society,” she continues, not giving him a moment to protest. “The Queen had been quite displeased that you left without seeing her. Besides, you need to make friends with the other dukes and whoever is someone. It will allow you to make trade easier and to ask for their assistance in case of food shortage or other damages.”

“And who will look after the estate? I can hardly leave it without anyone in charge.”

“I know a very trustworthy man who is more than capable of looking after your duties until you return.”

“The last time I agreed to something like that, it created a surplus of misery.”

“Then you should be happy to know that that man is nothing like Stane. Or do you honestly believe I would send a man like that to look after your estate?” She raises an eyebrow and Tony can do nothing but smile sheepishly. “I know why you are hesitant, boy, but I assure you that, if you come with me for a few months, it will benefit you greatly. Even if you are determined not to find a wife.”

And because Lady Carter is seldomly wrong, Tony agrees.

He waits until the temporary new steward, a man called David Sousa, arrives and shows him around, before he makes his way back to London. The second he arrives at Lady Carter’s mansion, she starts teaching him in the same manner she always had, which makes him as nostalgic as it makes him happy. Whenever he isn’t learning from her, he visits his old friend Harold ‘Happy’ Hogan, a boxer he met what feels like a life-time ago in France, or he talks to Peter, the nephew of one of the servants who has a quick laugh, a bright mind, and an insatiable curiosity that Tony is intimately familiar with.

True to her word, Lady Carter still makes him go to balls and be part of the ton. Tony begrudgingly goes along, following her through the crowd like a petulant child until he can find an opportunity to sneak away and escape all the debutantes. Even if he has changed a lot in the last few years, there is one thing that won’t change: He will not marry and have a family.

And then, he meets one Miss Virginia Potts. 

Chapter 4: Partners in Crime

Notes:

Hi! :)

I'm so glad that you all enjoy the story so far. Here is one of my favourite chapters! :)

Big thank you to ghostly-blues for beta-reading this!

Enjoy! :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Tony dodges the fist that comes his way.

“Aren’t you supposed to be smart?”

“No,” Tony says, breathing heavily as he dances from one foot to the other in the boxing ring, fists raised to shield his face. “I am smart.” He aims back at Hogan, but the boxer moves out of the way at the last second. Tony is sweaty, his shirt clinging to his torso, but he doesn’t want to take it off and expose the scar, knowing it will only invite questions he is not ready to answer.

“I doubt that, Your Grace,” Hogan answers in the tone of voice that always makes Tony think he’s mocking him. “Or else you would have realized that this entire charade is one of the worst ideas you have ever had.”

“Well, I am happy to say that the bar for being my worst idea is quite high and this one doesn’t reach it. Mostly because it’s actually brilliant.”

Tony is still feeling the high from the night before, the one that always fills him when one of his ideas plays out exactly as he intended it to – and despite the fact that he is not too fond of the ton, Lady Whistledown, or the drama of the ton, he can’t resist being the reason for more scandalous gossip. Dancing almost the entire night with Miss Potts, never even looking at another debutant, and all but snarling at any young gentleman who tried to approach her, was more than enough to be the centre of the gossip, especially after Lady Whistledown didn’t even mention anyone but Miss Potts and him in her entire column. This morning, all of London is talking about them.

He still believes the idea is quite brilliant. Lady Carter won’t allow him to skip any balls or festivities, claiming he needs to socialise – which she isn’t wrong about – and now he has the perfect excuse to ignore all the matchmaking mamas while also helping Miss Potts regather the attention of no doubt jealous suitors, so she can forget Killian and his less than respectful behaviour.

Another perk of this is that Tony enjoys spending time with Miss Potts. She is an excellent dancer – not that he had expected anything less from her, she seems very much like the kind of lady who strives for perfection – but she has a tongue that rivals Lady Carter’s. And because she doesn’t see him as a possible suitor, she doesn’t hold back her wit and doesn’t hesitate to make a barb at him if he pushes too far. He really couldn’t have picked a better woman for this scheme.

Tony isn’t quite sure why he told Hogan about the true nature of the scheme, but seeing as he is not part of the ton, doesn’t associate with anyone from the upper part of society, and is generally a very taciturn fellow, there are very few chances he might tell anyone about it. That is, unless he is Lady Whistledown, of course.

“And what if your plan fails?” Hogan asks as they begin circling each other again.

“I promised her I would help her find a good husband, and I intend to keep that promise.”

“I meant feelings, Your Grace. What if they change?”

“Well… I suppose it is very easy to fall in love with me, with my devilishly handsome looks, my charm, and my title, but Miss Potts seems like a sensible woman. I’ve made my intentions quite clear right from the start.”

Hogan doesn’t even grace that answer with a roll of his eyes. “And if your feelings change?”

Tony is saved from answering that (absolutely absurd) question as the door to the little boxing gym gets thrown open and James Rhodes walks in, looking quite angry. “May I have a word?” he asks in a booming voice that leaves no room for a refusal.

“Of course. Which one would you like?” Tony answers, but before he can get out of the boxing ring, James is already ridding himself of his coat and gracefully climbing into the ring, rolling his sleeves up. With a simple shrug, Hogan leaves the ring, grabbing a towel for himself.

Of course, Tony already suspected that James might have a word or two to say about him supposedly courting Miss Potts – after all, he did notice the dark glares the evening before, and the only reason the viscount hadn’t demanded an answer then and there was because both Lady Rhodes and Lady Carter had held him back.

“I would like to know what was going through your head last night,” James says, raising his own fists as they start circling each other.

“You have to be a bit more precise. Many thoughts run through a mind as quick as mine.” Tony has barely time to gloat as he ducks one of James’ fists. Suddenly, he remembers that James is quite a skilled fighter. He had wanted to join the military before taking on the viscount title, but those plans got cut short when his father died.

Maybe Tony should’ve gotten out of the ring when he had the chance.

“Are you courting Virginia?”

“Should I not be courting Miss Potts?”

“Obviously not.”

“Do tell, Rhodey, why shouldn’t I?” A thought crosses Tony’s mind. “Do you intend to marry her?”

He barely manages to end the sentence before James’ fist connects with his stomach – hard. Every tiny bit of air leaves his lungs and he only remains upright because James grips his shirt tight.

“If you ever suggest something as perverted as that again, you will deeply regret it,” James growls.

“I mean, she isn’t really your sister and-”

“She is my family!” he hisses, leaving no room for any argument in that statement, and he shoves Tony against the ropes.

“Alright, alright, she is your sister,” Tony says in a placatory voice, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender and waiting until James looks somewhat calmer before turning them into fists again. “Then give me another reason why I shouldn’t court her?”

“You have no intention to marry and, by courting her, you are only using her as a distraction and entertainment.”

“How do you know that? Maybe I simply have no intention of marrying anyone but Miss Potts.”

James is clearly not believing a single word of his lie. “She is already engaged to be married.”

“I was unaware of an engagement,” Tony answers. It seems their plan worked better than expected, if a new suitor had already proposed. Surely someone Miss Potts already knows or else she wouldn’t have accepted this quickly. “Have the banns been read, then?”

“I assure you that all the formal preparations are underway. I have arranged everything with Aldrich Killian and I’ve given him my word.”

An uncharacteristic fury flames up in Tony. “And this is where you are wrong, Rhodey,” he says, trying his best to keep his voice calm. “Killian is an unworthy suitor for your sister.” He had gone to the gardens to hide from the ton, but as soon as he heard the male and female voices arguing, he hadn’t hesitated a second to come and help. He barely had time to realize who was fighting, readying himself to use all the boxing skills Hogan taught him, when Miss Potts knocked that bastard out.

“He is perfectly decent,” James answers, dodging Tony’s fist. “He is never seen going in and out of brothels, at least. I even know where he’s been, these past few years – right here in London, not off in the world and ignoring his responsibilities, refusing to grow up.”

Tony knows James is talking about him and it is a low blow – so low, in fact, that it makes him halt, drop his hands. Tony is very well aware that his reputation is… less than perfect, but he is trying to change, to become a different man. Does James, his best friend, really think someone like Killian who is so entitled, who would disrespect a woman’s wishes and dare to lay his hands upon her, is more respectable than him? Has he really been such a terrible person all these years without realizing it?

However, there are other things to focus on. He and Miss Potts started this scheme so she wouldn’t have to marry Killian, and Tony means to honour that. “Aldrich Killian is hardly a saint,” he says, as James already makes his way out of the boxing ring.

He stops, turning back to Tony and looking utterly irritated and almost tired. “You are, and always have been, a good friend,” he says in a voice that is supposed to be calming, but right now it only irks Tony because James is not focusing on what is important. “The best, really. But this is my sister. My family.  I do not mean to offend you, but it is my responsibility to find her a good husband.”

“And I’m not one?”

“No,” he answers bluntly. “As long as you have no serious intention of marrying, I have absolutely no reason to see you as a possible suitor, and therefore your opinion on this matter is completely irrelevant.”

For a moment, James waits for Tony to say something – maybe claim that he has serious intentions, which, of course, would be one of the biggest lies Tony has ever told. And, somehow, the duke can’t bring himself to tell that lie. James sometimes has that talent; making Tony not want to lie.

His friend slips out of the boxing ring, grabs his coat, and walks out of the building swiftly. Suddenly feeling very tired, Tony leaves the ring as well, accepting the towel Hogan holds out for him to take.

“You could have told him the truth,” Hogan mutters.

“The point of our scheme is for no one to find out.”

“I meant about that Killian bloke. The Viscount seems like he really cares about the lady.”

“If I had told him, James would ask Miss Potts about it, and I am not sure she would appreciate it.” In fact, Tony is quite certain she would have his head if he so much as dared to tell anyone about what happened in the garden. She had been right, of course – a woman’s reputation is much more easily tainted than a man’s, and knowing James, he wouldn’t have taken that kind of insult lightly. No, it is Miss Potts’ decision – or maybe responsibility – to share that story with her family.

Tony pulls at his sweaty shirt, unsticking it from his chest, as he looks for the pocket watch in his coat. “I need to go,” he says as he calculates how long he needs to ride back to the mansion, freshen up, and change. “I am to promenade this afternoon.”


Promenading, even though it is just as important for socializing as going to balls, seems utterly pointless in Tony’s eyes. At a ball, you can dance, eat delicious food, and socialize – but the sole purpose of promenading is walking around to be seen. Well, he supposes you could also say one might enjoy the view of the park, the fresh air, and the sun, but after seeing stunning parks in Europe and experiencing the scorching sun in Greece, the parks in London seem a little bleak; he might even dare to call it boring.

However, he is quite certain Miss Potts would have his head if he didn’t show up. And judging by the look that greets him at his late arrival, she is already sharpening an axe in her mind. Donning his most charming smile (not that it can save him from the metaphorical axe, because Tony already knows that Miss Potts is not one easily impressed by charming smiles), he approaches Miss Potts, who is accompanied by Lady Rhodes and Lady Carter – no doubt to at least give the illusion of chaperoning them.

“Lady Rhodes,” he greets her with a kiss to her gloved hand before turning towards Miss Potts, kissing her hand for a second longer than it is appropriated, giving her another dashing smile as he bowed deep. “And the lovely Miss Potts.”

Miss Potts smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Lord Stark. What a surprise to see you here.”

“Yes, quite a lucky coincidence.” Or their scheme from the night before with Miss Potts already dictating a rather demanding schedule for public appearances. “May I be so bold as to ask you for your company for a walk around the park?” While the question had been addressed to Miss Potts, it is Lady Rhodes’ answer they have to wait for.

“I believe that is a rather lovely idea,” the lady says, nodding towards Miss Potts, who gracefully stands up from the bench and joins him on the path, flicking her fan open and gently fanning herself. Tony suspects it is more for show than actual function. He thinks about offering her his arm to hold onto, but it would be too inappropriate for promenading (holding on to each other while promenading is only something done by couples, family or the dearest of friends), and Tony is quite certain Miss Potts is not above using that fan of hers in an unsupervised moment to chastise him for his cheeky suggestions.

“You’re late,” she says in a low voice, her icy tone a stark contrast to the smile on her face.

“I am always late,” he answers, not apologizing at all.

She gives him a rather unimpressed side-eye. “The point of a plan and schedule, Your Grace, is to keep it.”

“And if you already know that I am going to be late, you can plan accordingly.” Miss Potts doesn’t fight him on it and he counts it as a win. They pass a group of young gentlemen who can’t keep their eyes off Miss Potts, and they both make a show out of smiling and laughing softly at each other, as if they just shared the most wonderful joke.

“For tomorrow’s ball, we will limit our dances,” she says when the gentlemen are far enough away to not hear them anymore. “You didn’t allow anyone else to dance with me last time.”

“Which was part of my plan,” Tony answers, clapping his hands behind his back. “Their interest is already piqued, and with me not letting you out of my arms, they will all but fight to get a chance to even converse with you. I am willing to bet a small fortune that your dance card will be filled within the first hour.”

“A lady doesn’t gamble.” A smirk tucks on her lips. “Especially when she knows she is going to lose.”

“How terribly boring.” This time, he is rewarded with something that could be called an amused snort – or a rather loud exhale through the nose. He chooses the first option.

“Why were you late?” Miss Potts asks after a few paces.

“I was enjoying a nice round of boxing when your brother decided to join and delay the entire routine.” That is not entirely true. James’ interruption only claimed a few minutes, nothing he couldn’t handle with walking a bit faster – what made him really late had been seeing Peter in the smithery (which he is allowed to be in, as long as his scary aunt agrees) working on something, Domi and U running around him. Tony simply couldn’t not investigate what he was doing; in fact, isn’t it his duty to make sure the boy isn’t doing anything dangerous? Peter hadn’t been doing anything dangerous (for once), but that hadn’t stopped Tony from being there for too long.

Miss Potts’ eyes snap to him, looking surprised – however, not as surprised as Tony had imagined. Based on that, Tony guesses that James already talked to her about their courtship. Quickly, the wrinkle between her eyebrows eases away as she lets her eyes roam over his face, most likely looking for any broken skin. “Well, at least James had the decency to spare your face. It would have called up too many rumours.”

Tony feels like he should be insulted by this, but strangely enough, he isn’t. “Are you not worried that I might have given him a black eye?”

“Oh, please,” she says, waving her fan in a dismissive way, seeming almost smug. “James is an excellent fighter.”

Tony hums before leaning closer, so close that his breath moves the fine hairs by her ear as he whispers: “Did he teach you? Is that why you have such a magnificent right hook? How is your hand, by the way?”

As expected, she stops and turns towards him, utterly scandalized by his behaviour. However, she isn’t flushed or embarrassed by his sudden closeness – no, she looks angry, any pretence of the smile now dropped to give him a quite powerful glare. “If you told him anything-”

“I didn’t utter a single word, even as he beat me into a bloody pulp.” Miss Potts doesn’t appreciate his humour, her glare getting darker. “I mean it,” he adds, because he doesn’t actually want her to think he broke their pact. “You have my word, Miss Potts.”

For a long moment, she searches his face, as if to find out if he really is telling the truth or simply telling her what she wants to hear – she really is a smart one. Eventually, she seems satisfied that he is telling the truth and turns back around to continue promenading. Tony follows her, searching through his head for anything to say that might lighten the mood. The only thing that comes to his mind is the weather and how the weather was so much nicer in Italy. However, before he can decide if he should really fall back to talking about weather she most likely wouldn’t appreciate, given her pale skin that looks like it would turn an angry red the second she steps out of a building, Miss Potts begins talking.

“I know this arrangement is merely some form of entertainment for you, Lord Stark,” she says, her voice serious even for her usual demeanour, and Tony feels his spine straighten all by itself, “something you can use to excuse yourself from the matchmaking until you return to Hastings where you will be left alone and allowed to make every decision you want. But for me… this is the most important time in my life.”

Something strikes him as deeply wrong with that sentence. “It isn’t-”

“It is,” she insists. “I am not a man, therefore I don’t have the same liberties. I will take my husband’s name, move into his home, raise his heirs, spend his money, if he lets me.”

“You sound quite frustrated.”

She hesitates, looking around them, as if to make sure that no one can hear her next words. “I am,” Miss Potts confesses. It surprises Tony a bit. With all of her efforts to be the perfect debutante, the one that every eligible bachelor desires, he hadn’t expected such a stance on her own marriage. “I believe myself capable of doing more than being a wife. However, those thoughts are quite progressive and not exactly in the favour of most men, which is-”

“-which is why you need as many suitors as possible, to find the one who allows you the most freedoms,” Tony finishes with a nod, indicating that he understands what she is trying to say. “Miss Potts, it is my honour to help you with that. I never quite understood why so many people – men and especially mamas, it seems, alike – think it is improper for ladies to read a book. In my eyes, all those gossip papers seem much more damaging.”

“Maybe you really are as smart as people say,” Miss Potts muses, her tone teasing.

Tony grins before he is aware he is even doing it. “I assure you, I am not half as narcissistic and self-centred as the rumours make me out to be.”

“Yet enough to listen to the rumours about yourself.”

“Says the lady who willingly accepted a scandalous charade to create more favourable rumours about herself.”

The smirk reappears on her face, and once again, Tony counts it as a silent win for himself. As they stroll past another group of gentlemen, they laugh again in a way that sounds a bit insincere to his own ears, but the men give no indication that they think something is off.

“I must insist that we visit as many balls as possible,” Miss Potts begins to plan again, and Tony dutifully nods. “And promenade at least thrice a week. Visits to the gallery and to the opera, of course. Oh, and there is that picnic.”

“I can never resist a good blueberry pie under the sun, even if it is the London sun,” Tony jokes, for he really does love blueberries, and if he remembers correctly, the Rhodes’ cook makes an exquisite blueberry pie.

She squints her eyes at him. “You seem oddly willing to go along with such a full schedule for someone who wants to avoid the ton.”

“I do not wish to avoid the ton, I wish to avoid the matchmaking,” he corrects her. “In fact, the very reason I came back to London was to reassociate myself with the ton.”

“For whatever reason? Surely you must have known that would include every overzealous mother trying to marry off her daughter to you.”

“Lady Carter insists that it will help me govern Hastings if I make friends with other people. It is easier to ask for help from friends than from strangers.”

Miss Potts makes a humming noise that Tony can’t quite place, and when he looks over to her, there is a somewhat distant look on her face. Interesting. That isn’t the reaction he has been expecting. Then again, Miss Potts had surprised him with quite a few things this day.

However, once again he doesn’t get the chance to ask for more, since she begins talking again. “And you will need to send flowers. Expensive ones.”

“Flowers? Really?” He can’t help but scoff.

“Yes, really.”

“Aren’t they a bit,” he searches for the right word, “unoriginal?”

“It is not about being original, it is about sending an appropriate gift for the courtship,” she says, seeming personally offended. Mayhaps she is fond of them. “And if you were truly courting me, you would buy out every florist in town.”

“If I were to truly court you, I wouldn’t need flowers, only five minutes alone with you in a drawing room.”

The words slip out of his lips before he can think twice about it, surprising himself with them. He stumbles to a stop and turns towards the lady, not sure if to apologize or to see her reaction. Miss Potts is staring at him with wide eyes, the fan now absolutely still in her hands, her expression more open than he had ever seen it before. She doesn’t look angry, not really, and neither shocked – merely confused, like she doesn’t understand the meaning behind his words.

Suddenly, Tony is reminded of the one time in Prussia where he drank with a rather young widow who, after a few glasses of wine, told him how her mother prepared her for her wedding night – as in, she didn’t prepare her at all, other than to simply lay down and wait. Tears were rolling down Tony’s face as he laughed at her dramatic retelling of her mother’s preparations compared to what happened at her wedding night.

It is another thing Tony doesn’t understand – the lack of explaining how the child they will carry for nine months and look after the most even gets into their belly in the first place – and he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s a man or because Lady Carter thought that rule pointless and he adopted it, simply adding it to the list of Things Women Aren’t Allowed To Do Because It Is Somehow Improper, right underneath going to university, working, and deciding if they want to marry or not.

Maybe he really went too far with that comment. Teasing is only entertaining if both parties are aware of what is really talked about, as well as knowing it is merely more than a jest. “I didn’t mean-”

In a quick flash, Miss Potts’ expression changes to chastising – Tony might even call it threatening. “If there are ever any rumours about this courtship somehow involving anything improper, you will find out what Killian felt when he met my magnificent right hook.”

“There won’t be,” Tony tries to reassure her, pulling her slightly to the side to let a group of two mamas with three daughters in total pass, responding to their smiles and giggles with a quick, tight-lipped smile before taking Miss Potts’ hand and putting it in the crook of his elbow. His hand rests on top of her gloved one as he all but drags them forward, giving it a quick squeeze.

To his surprise, Miss Potts doesn’t let go as if she burned herself. He can’t say if it is because she’s too angry to notice the somewhat intimate gesture or because she doesn’t want anyone to see her pulling away.

Tony clears his throat. “I will buy flowers,” he announces instead of apologizing, because he has never been good at that.

“Expensive ones,” she adds in a voice still a little too sharp for his liking.

“Of course. Do you have a favourite flower?”

“Any will be fine,” she answers. Her tone is a bit softer now, maybe appeased by Tony following her carefully crafted plan. “As long as people will notice it.”

An idea runs through his head, and he has to try his very hardest to not smile. “Oh, I will make sure of that.”

Finally, Miss Potts looks at him again, her eyes squinting lightly as she resumes fanning herself. “Why do I get a bad feeling at that tone?”

Once more, he gives her his most charming smile. “Because you’re an exceptionally smart woman.”

Once again, that smile has absolutely no effect on her.

Oh, Tony will get a reaction out of her by the end of the season, he makes it his personal goal. It is one of his – many – bad habits, pushing people until the polite mask they hold in front of their faces slips away. There’s something oddly satisfying about making people lose control, even though he had read several books that suggests it has more to do with the late duke’s absent attention and thinking that any attention is better than no attention at all.

For the rest of their walk, which isn’t that long, they don’t talk, simply enjoying each other’s company. If you can really call it that, given their scheme. Lady Rhodes and Lady Carter stand up from the bench when they approach.

“Thank you for accompanying me, Miss Potts,” Tony says and he kisses her hand for show as two gentlemen are standing nearby, watching them with sharp eyes.

“The pleasure was all mine,” she answers with a smile, and if he isn’t mistaken, it doesn’t look quite as fake as the other ones. If he continues his efforts like this, he might get one real smile by the last ball of the season – however, knowing himself, he will do something that will quash all his good efforts.

They all exchange common and appropriate pleasantries, making quick small-talk about seeing each other at tomorrow’s ball before they part ways. Without really noticing it, Tony offers Lady Carter his arm, which she immediately accepts. “You seemed quite engaged in your conversation with the young Miss Potts.”

“You say that as if I find conversations with everyone else boring.”

“Oh, you do enjoy conversations, I know that. But most of them involve you making fun of everyone else.”

Tony has the audacity of not even hiding his smirk. “How do you know this conversation was any different?”

“Because she seems like a very intelligent woman with a sharp tongue.”

“Like you yourself, Lady Carter?”

“Of course. That is why I like her.” Tony chuckles. Miss Potts indeed reminds him quite a lot of the lady next to him, and that is a compliment. Suddenly, Lady Carter stops, actually putting her cane against his chest to stop him as well, giving him a stern look. “When I say that Miss Potts is someone special, I do mean it.”

“I never suggested anything else,” he answers, a bit confused.

“She is a hard worker above all else, she has perfect manners and knows how to move and behave in society, not to mention that she is very beautiful. If you’re looking for a woman fit to be a duchess, you don’t have to look any further.” Lady Carter taps her cane against his chest again, unknowingly just slightly underneath his scar, directly underneath his blue brooch. “Do not bungle it up.”

“I’ll try my best,” Tony answers. He is already dreading the conversation they will have once his and Miss Potts’ scheme is over. Lady Carter will probably bring it up for the rest of his life.

Better to change the subject, then.

“I have a few errands to run,” he says, untangling himself from the lady and giving her a quick bow.

Lady Carter raises an eyebrow. “Errands?”

“Yes, of the utmost importance. I shall be returned for dinner.” Before he can leave, he turns back around to her. “If you would like to have some flowers, you should tell me now.”

For a moment, she just looks at him, clearly trying to find out what this odd behaviour is all about. However, she simply waves her hand through the air. “No flowers for me, boy. I have a very beautiful garden full of all the flowers one could desire, I don’t need dead ones sitting in a vase. But I would like to know what this is about.”

A wide grin stretches across Tony’s face. “Oh, you will find out soon enough.”


Pepper wakes up quite excited. After she and Lady Rhodes parted from Lord Stark and Lady Carter the day before, no less than five gentlemen had tried to strike up a conversation with her on the way home, all of them asking about her presence at the next balls and ensuring her they would be honoured to have a dance with her. By the little quiver in her lip, Pepper could tell that Lady Rhodes wasn’t as pleased as her about this, but she remained polite anyway.

As usual, Pepper gets ready without her maid’s help. She actually prefers it this way, taking the time to prepare herself for the day while going over the day’s events. When she is getting ready for a ball or another social event, she accepts the help, but otherwise it is an almost holy ritual for her – brushing her hair until it’s completely free of knots and arranging it in the latest fashion, putting on a dress, jewels, hiding her freckles and making her cheeks shine with a bit of rouge. By the end of it, she feels like she is ready to face whatever the day throws at her.

However, she soon notices that her routine has never prepared her for a certain duke.

Pepper just finished her breakfast and is playing the pianoforte while Lady Rhodes is writing some letters – James is off somewhere, his mood even worse after the argument they had (“The arrangement with Lord Killian still stands.” “There’s no need for that. I will have plenty of other suitors soon, and-” “For one, you speculate that you will have them, which is something quite naïve for someone like you. And for another, you may attract other suitors, but those are not what matter! Proposals matter, and until now, Lord Killian is the only one who has proposed, and therefore he is the only one I even consider as your husband.”) – when their butler Humboldt steps into the drawing room, clearing his throat once. “There are deliveries,” he announces.

“Deliveries?” Lady Rhodes asks as Pepper stops to play.

“Yes. Flowers for Miss Potts.”

About time, she thinks. When she told the duke to send flowers, she had hoped they would arrive on the same day, but by the evening, her music had a certain tone of aggressiveness as still no presents in any form arrived. “Well, they should be brought in,” she says, smiling. “I want to see them.”

Humboldt nods and there is something on his face that Pepper can’t place, however she has no chance to wonder more about it, as a young lad hurries into the room, carrying a vase that is half as tall as the boy and is filled to the brim with colourful, exotic – and no doubt expensive – flowers. There is a small note tucked between the leaves, but before Pepper can even reach for it, a second boy walks into the drawing room, carrying a giant bouquet of flowers as well, immediately followed by a third boy, who – naturally – also has flowers with him, placing them next to others.

“Oh my,” Lady Rhodes says, standing up from the table and walking over to her. More and more flowers follow. “Did someone buy every flower in London?”

A very bad feeling settles in Pepper’s stomach.

Oh no, he didn’t.

Snatching the note from the first flowers – there are no notes with the other ones – and opening it, she is greeted with the sight of very familiar letters that she saw on her dance card not too long ago.

Your wish is my command

She is going to kill him. As soon as she has a husband.

“That is enough,” she announces, making the new boy with the flowers (a rather beautiful arrangement of sunflowers) halt, looking at her like he did something wrong. “Humboldt, please instruct the other flowers to be brought somewhere else. Wherever there is room left.”

“There will be more?” Lady Rhodes asks, still marvelling over the flowers.

“I fear so.”

“But who are they from?”

“The duke,” Pepper answers in a sharp tone. There is this almost overwhelming urge to set that damned note on fire, but instead she simply folds it until it is too small to be folded any more. Why did he have to take her words so literally? Oh, she knows the answer to that: because he is the kind of person who likes to create chaos, otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested that scheme.

(She ignores the voice at the back of her head that asks if she is the same kind of person for agreeing to it.)

Humboldt comes back into the drawing room. “There are gentleman callers for Miss Potts.”

Pushing the irritation she feels about the flowers and a certain duke away, she smiles. “Tell them to come in and let someone bring some biscuits and tea up, please. We don’t want to be rude hosts.”

“Is there really a need to entertain more callers, my dear?” Lady Rhodes asks, a little frown on her face. “I mean, Lord Stark-”

“Lord Stark has not proposed to me,” and never will, “so the most sensible thing is to entertain more callers. To leave myself with more options.”

It isn’t what Lady Rhodes wants to hear, but before she can start an argument, Humboldt already announces a young gentleman named Theodore Crane. He enters in long strides, wearing a dashing smile and a fashionable coat, a box of sweets under his arms.

“Lady Rhodes,” he bows to her before turning to Pepper. “Miss Potts. Thank you for receiving me.”

“Of course, Mr. Crane,” she says, doing a quick curtsy. “I am sorry that we don’t have any refreshments ready yet. We weren’t really expecting anyone.”

“No, I have to apologize for my spontaneity. I should have called ahead if I wanted tea upon my arrival.” Pepper makes a point of at least giggling about his attempt at a joke. He holds out the box for her to take. “These are for you. I would’ve gotten you flowers, but every florist in London seemed to be sold out.”

In her own ears, her laugh sounds a bit too sharp and too loud, but she accepts the sweets nonetheless, mentioning towards the sofa, already opening the long list of questions she has for a potential husband, while Humboldt keeps introducing more and more young gentlemen to join them, and soon there aren’t enough places for them all to sit. However, they don’t seem discouraged by it as still more men fill the room.

Through the open doors, Pepper can see that flowers are still being delivered, being brought to every room in the mansion.


As soon as they enter the hall of the ball, Pepper holding on to James’ arm, Lord Stark and Lady Carter appear in front of them. The duke looks like he has entirely too much fun.

“May I ask for a dance, Miss Potts?” he asks.

“Of course,” she answers as she holds her dance card out for him to sign, which he does with a grin – this time, his name is taking up the appropriate amount of space on the card.

James moves forward, like he wants to stop Pepper from going, but before he can even open his mouth, Lady Carter all but pushes her own arm towards him. “I shall need someone to accompany me towards the refreshments,” she says with a smirk that promises the pointy end of her cane should he disagree. “Lord Rhodes, would you do me the honour?”

“Of course, Lady Carter,” he answers with a face that lets everyone know he doesn’t really want to, but before Pepper gets the chance to even come up with something to say, Lord Stark takes her hand and whisks her away towards the dance floor.

“Did you like the flowers?” he asks with a smile as they position themselves between the other couples.

“You are unbelievable,” Pepper hisses, making sure that no one can overhear them. The man has the gall to chuckle. “They were delivering flowers all day!”

“You did tell me to buy out all of the florists in the city, if I remember correctly.”

“I was clearly not being earnest about it.”

Lord Stark only continues to grin as he takes her hand and pulls her closer for the dance. The music is swelling up, but it is merely a sound at the back of her conscience, and soon they are floating over the dancefloor between the other couples. “I heard the street was still filled with suitors for you. What original gifts did they have for you, now that flowers weren’t an option?”

She lightly squints her eyes. “Did you do it simply because you wanted to see what other gentlemen would think of?”

“Of course. Now, do tell, I’m all but dying of curiosity over here.” Despite her own good common sense, Pepper feels a smile tuck at her lips, which – naturally – encourages Lord Stark. “How many boxes of chocolates do you have now? Enough to fill a room? What else? Ribbons, books, paintings? Did someone write you a dreadful poem?”

“One brought me a kitten,” she answers, smiling as she remembered her own stunned reaction to the animal that was sitting in a beautiful woven basket.

To her surprise, Lord Stark laughs loud and heartily, completely unbothered by the looks he is getting from members of the ton around him. And if Pepper lets the smile on her face sit there for a moment longer, no one needs to know it is because of his laugh. “Oh, bless his heart. That gentleman is really trying.”

“It was better than the poems I received, though I cannot say if it really is a good idea to bring someone something that requires so much responsibility and care.”

“Maybe the fellow wants to see if you are fit to look after children by giving you the kitten. What does it look like? Have you named it yet?” Pepper is about to open her mouth to answer his seemingly burning questions, when he continues to talk – and ruins the entertaining mood between them. “Did you name it Salt to match you?”

She is so surprised by his words that she almost misses her next step. Her smile drops off her face as Lord Stark twirls her around, suddenly reminded of the thing she wanted to ask since their meeting at the first ball of the season. “How do you know about that?”

His smile is still in place. “You really named it Salt? Well, I guess it is true what they say about great minds-”

“How do you know that people call me Pepper?” she hisses in a low voice. There is a part of her that knows she shouldn’t be this hostile towards him, but she is quite protective of that name. Only a handful of people are allowed to use that name and that means something to her.

Blinking in confusion, the lord doesn’t understand her anger. “Should I not know about it?”

“Only my family and closest friends call me Pepper.”

“Then shouldn’t I call you Pepper as well? Since we are meant to be close?” She already starts shaking her head, but Lord Stark continues. “Besides, since I was the one who gave you that name, it would only be just that I am allowed to use it as well.”

This time, Pepper actually does miss a step, stumbling for a mere second before catching herself.

Ever since the name Pepper has first been uttered around her, she believed it to be a teasing jest about her freckles. If she remembers correctly, it had been James who first called her that name during one of their arguments, and she always thought that he used it to rile her up more. Pepper can stomach the jest about them as long as it comes from people she holds dear, from whom she knows they love and cherish her even with that imperfection – but the name coming from an outsider?

It hurts more than Pepper ever imagined.

It makes her want to go back to being Virginia.

“What is the matter?” he asks, sounding genuinely confused.

She sets her jaw. “I do not appreciate being mocked, Your Grace.”

He seems even more confused. “Who is mocking you?”

“I am aware that my blemishes are an easy subject for mockery, but-”

“You think Pepper came from your freckles?” he interrupts her, sounding like it is her who lost their mind. However, Lord Stark doesn’t give her time to answer. “And you call them, what? Blemishes? Absurd. Would you call the stars in the night sky blemishes? Of course not. They’re supposed to be there, just like your freckles are supposed to be on your face. And for the record, Pepper is not because of your freckles.”

His words could be some kind of flirtation, comparing freckles to beautiful stars, however his tone is so offended, like he cannot believe she would accuse him of coming up with the name because of something as mundane as freckles instead of it being a clever joke. She is pretty sure he is actually scoffing at the idea.

Pepper feels something loosen in her stomach. She believes him that the nickname isn’t because of her freckles, which of course leaves the question of the real origin of her name. However, she doesn’t feel like she can stomach the answer right now. It has been a stressful day and she really doesn’t need any more of it today.

Lord Stark isn’t looking at her, instead his eyes are off to somewhere over her left shoulder. She doesn’t think she really needs to apologize for her accusation – but she can meet him half-way.

“It would be inappropriate for you to call me Pepper while I will call you Lord Stark,” she says, making a point of not meeting his eyes.

Which doesn’t mean she doesn’t notice his eyes snapping to her. “You could call me Tony.”

“That is-”

Please call me Tony,” he interrupts her. “I don’t like it when people call me the Hastings or Lord Stark, it sounds too much like the late duke. And Anthony makes me feel like I’m in trouble.”

“What makes you think you aren’t in trouble?”

“That is true, but one can yell Tony just as easily as Anthony, so why don’t you save yourself a little time?”

If anyone dares to suggest Pepper snorted at his words, that someone would be very wrong. She did not snort. A lady doesn’t snort. Especially not about such poor jests.

“Very well, Tony,” she says, keeping her voice low so only he would hear her as she spins around one last time. “You may call me Pepper.”

Tony grins as their dance comes to an end. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Pepper.” His eyes jump to something over her shoulder. “I believe Rhodey will drag me away now. He looks quite furious.”

True to his words, James appears at their side not a second later, all but shoving a gentleman towards her and saying he promised him a dance with her. Before she can make a point about choosing her own dance partners, he already grabbed Tony by his arm and pulled him away.

Notes:

So, they're using their first names, this feels like a big step - let's see how long it will last :D

If you enjoyed this chapter and story, please leave me a comment :) And if you don't enjoy it, leave me a comment and tell me why.

Chapter 5: A Dastardly Lord

Notes:

Hi! :)

I know it's been a hot minute since I updated, but I moved and started a new job that's quite demanding, which is a bit draining, so I don't have as much time and energy to write something as I like. I also lost a bit of motivation for this, but that could also just be happening because of work. I do want to finish this story because I actually really like the rest of the story that I plotted, but I have no idea how long it might take :D

Side note: I wrote this chapter way before Black Widow came out, so the Romanoff family might be a little out of character.

As always, a massive shoutout to my beta-reader ghostly-blues!

Enjoy! :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Were my words not clear yesterday?” James hisses into Tony’s ear as he drags him away from the dance floor. Over his shoulder, he sees Pepper’s eyes following them for a moment before turning towards her new dance partner, a gentleman Tony recognizes as Phil Coulson.

“Which one?” Tony jests, clearly knowing what his friend is talking about. “You said so many.”

“I told you to stay away from my sister.” Finally, he lets him go into a side room occupied by only a few other guests with a small table that is overflowing with refreshments and tiny pastries. Tony looks over them and is slightly disappointed when he finds nothing with blueberries.

“Do you wish me to insult your sister, then?” he asks, turning back to James who looks like he might need at least three flutes of champagne to loosen that tension in his jaw.

“On the contrary.”

“But that is what will happen when I suddenly stop showing her any attention at all,” Tony continues, turning towards the table to help himself to a glass of lemonade.

“Her engagement-”

“So, you’re really planning on marrying her off to a loathsome toad?”

“Lord Rhodes.” Speaking of the loathsome toad in question: Killian walks over to them. Tony can’t help but smirk, especially when he sees the state of the man’s nose – swollen and an angry red. Killian acts as if Tony isn’t there, holding out his hand for James to shake. “Forgive the intrusion, but I only wanted to say that I am happy to restate my intentions towards Miss Potts, if need be. She is a price I have long coveted for her beauty, her grace-”

“Her magnificent right hook?” Tony mumbles into his glass. He is very aware that he should keep his mouth shut, but he doesn’t for two main reasons. The first one being he never keeps his mouth shut and he doesn’t intend to start shutting his mouth any time soon, and the second being he still feels a protective anger towards the man and what he has done to his friend (and, yes, he does consider Pepper his friend now). Calling her a price doesn’t help calm him down either.

James halts, throwing him a glare that is for once not filled with annoyance but confusion. What a nice change. Tony simply takes another sip.

Killian clears his throat. “I simply wish to know if you still intend to honour your promise and handle this… misunderstanding, my lord. I rather wish to avoid the embarrassment.”

“Rather late for that,” Tony says, now loud and clear, leaning against the refreshment table.

Finally, Killian can’t ignore him anymore, sending him a quick, dirty look. Tony does wonder if the man remembers him being in the garden as well. “Are you too friendly with the duke or simply too intimidated by his rank to-“

“Easy, Lord Killian,” James says, holding up a calming hand before giving Tony a look that is clearly meant to be chastising. Tony refuses to be chastised. “As I have already assured you before, I will resolve this matter. A matter which is none of the duke’s concern, as he seems to need reminding of.”

“Perhaps it should be my concern,” he answers, his voice a hint too sharp and too loud to be in jest or teasing, “since you have already failed to see Lord Killian’s true character.”

Again, James seems confused by his words, and Tony prays his friend soon catches up on their meaning before he forgets his promise to Pepper not to tell anyone. Because he knows he will be unable to stand by and listen to them making plans for the wedding while knowing how undignified Killian had behaved. If this is the start of their marriage, Tony doesn’t want to imagine how it would end.

Killian tries his best to ignore Tony. “I shall do my best by Miss Potts, Lord Rhodes. And, perhaps over time, she might even learn to return my affections.”

That seems bloody unlikely.

“Oh, stop it already, Killian,” he says, putting his glass down and remembering the resignation in Pepper’s voice as she talked about how important it is for her to find a husband who allows her her own freedoms. Tony knows the man in front of him won’t be that man. “I presume he failed to mention what happened to his nose and why.”

“I was careless with a cabinet door,” Killian quickly answers.

“He was careless with his honour,” Tony spits back. Out of the corner of his eyes, he notices James turning towards him, but now Tony’s complete attention is on Killian. “He attempted something a few nights ago at the ball at Vauxhall. I shan’t dignify with words why your sister planted a facer. Deservedly so.”

James whips his head from Tony towards the dance floor, watching Pepper dance by.

“My lord, you must know-” Killian starts, but James pays him no attention.

“If this were true, Pepper surely would’ve told me about it.” As if to prove a point, James looks back at Tony – this time, almost questioning.

Tony holds his gaze. “Would she?” It is true that Tony might not know her as well as James does, but he knows that Pepper is someone who would do anything to avoid a scandal that might bring shame over her family.

And James knows it, too.

For a long moment, he looks at Tony, sorting out his own thoughts, before turning towards Killian and stepping closer – invading his personal space in an intimidating way. “There is no arrangement anymore,” he announces in a voice that allows no discussion. “And if I ever see you near my sister again, you will deeply regret it.”

“But we are to be married!”

“You are to be buried if you so much as look into her direction,” James hisses with such venom in his voice, Tony actually feels the need to lay a hand on his shoulder and hold him back. As much as he would love to see James punch a few of Killian’s teeth out, a dark back alley might be better suited for it than a ballroom. James’ entire body is tense and he looks ready to pounce into action any second now. By now, they have also attracted Pepper’s attention. “Now go, and be grateful that you will not take a punch from yet another of the Rhodes family.”

After one last glance, James storms away, only to be stopped by Pepper in the door, her whispers fierce but inaudible for Tony’s ears. Killian stands there as if he suddenly grew some roots before throwing a look that could have killed at Tony and marching away.

Tony is feeling quite satisfied with the entire situation.

Until Pepper stalks over to him, the usual polite mask nowhere to be seen. “You told him?” she asks. There is something in her voice Tony doesn’t like. It sounds like betrayal.

“They were all but planning your wedding right in front of me,” he defends himself. “I couldn’t just stand by. But everything will be fine, I assure you.”

“You assure me?” She laughs without any humour behind it. “I do not know what they teach men at Oxford, but I can assure you that I am quite capable of speaking for myself and solving my own problems.”

“Is that why you agreed to this?” he says before he can rethink his statement, pointing between them to make sure he is talking about their arrangement.

Pepper’s face hardens. “You had no right to do that.”

“I was simply trying to help.”

“You didn’t. All you did was make a man angry, a man who already feels entitled to something he doesn’t deserve. Not to mention you captured the attention of the entire ton. No doubt Lady Whistledown will have to write about it, and what happens then?”

Maybe Tony really hadn’t thought it through. It wouldn’t be the first time. Especially everything concerning his own reputation, considering he doesn’t care for it and there is very little that could damage the boost he gets from his title. Which isn’t the case for the fragile reputation of a woman, even one as proper as Pepper.

“Pepper, I-”

“I believe I have other gentlemen to dance with, Lord Stark,” she says in an icy tone, emphasising his title in a way that lets him know it was anything but a slip of her tongue, before turning away and swiftly walking back towards the dance floor.

Tony stays rooted to the spot, for the first time in a very long while feeling the gazes of the people around him on him and being uncomfortable with it. Pepper joins two other ladies, one who watches him with a dark glare while the other squeezes her hand in a comforting way. For a fraction of a second, he ponders about going over to her, maybe asking her for another dance and trying to explain once again why he did this, but then another gentleman approaches her, bowing slightly and engaging her in conversation. As if nothing happened, Pepper smiles back at him, laughing at his jokes while allowing him to sign her dance card.

Tony remembers why they started this ruse in the first place. For her to find a husband and for him to socialize in peace. So, he sets off to socialize.


The cool air of the night is more than refreshing after spending hours in that stuffy room. Besides, there is something oddly calming about walking through a city at night when everyone is already asleep.

Tony stayed at the ball for as long as it was socially acceptable – meaning until Lady Carter after would have sent him those judgy glares for taking a supposed early leave. He did talk to the lords that have land around Hastings, trying to get into their good graces, but with James running off somewhere to calm his temper and Pepper not even looking in his direction, Tony found the evening not as enjoyable as he expected.

Deciding that a walk back to the mansion might calm his restlessness, Tony refused the carriage and set off. Now, his steps are echoing off the walls, the only sounds around except for the occasional slightly drunk couple that passes him.

He still feels like he needs to apologize for Pepper. Not exactly for intervening, since he is glad he stopped James before he could make a grave mistake, but for telling a secret he admittingly had no right to share. However, apologizing is one of the (very few) talents Tony doesn’t possess. He could send her flowers, of course, but considering he had just bought out every florist in town, it would not only take a few days until they restocked but it would also seem insincere. Maybe he could get her another kitten to join hers? Or one to name after every spice he can think of?

Before Tony can make a decision, steps approach him from behind. Immediately, he feels his anxiety rise up, the memory of being attacked and shot still too fresh in his memory, and his entire body tenses. As subtle as possible, he memorizes possible escape routes and sticks or stones he could use to his advantage before he quickly turns around, hoping to surprise his pursuer.

“Just me, Your Grace,” Killian says, holding up his hands as he jumps, indeed surprised by Tony’s sudden behaviour.

This feels like trouble. “Why are you following me? I believe the matter is settled.”

“It was settled. Until you spoiled it.”

Tony lets go of a humourless, sharp laugh. “Oh, I can’t take any credit for that. That was all your doing.”

Killian scrunches up his face. “I am simply imploring you to speak once again with the viscount. The other night was… a mistake, I can admit that. A temporary lack of judgement. You must understand that.”

“Must I? Because I can assure you, Killian, that there will never be any kind of understanding between us. Good evening,” Tony says, already turning back around to resume his walk home.

The footsteps follow him. “But you do not need her! You’re a duke! You already have everything one could need – the money, the connections, the standing. I- I need her.”

Clearly, you don’t deserve her.

“Why can’t you just let me have her?”

Let you have her?” Tony stops so suddenly Killian almost runs into him and turns back around against his better judgement. “Do you think I have any authority about the decision she makes? If she doesn’t wish to marry you, then that is her choice; not her brother’s and certainly not mine.”

Killian has the audacity to laugh at that. “When I’m buying a horse, do I negotiate with the horse? No, of course not.”

Tony’s mood darkens even more. He should’ve taken the carriage. “I really implore you to stop talking before I forget myself. A lot can happen in dark alleyways.”

“If you don’t want anyone else to marry her, why haven’t you asked for her hand yet? You act so fond of her and she is so smitten with you. Any man would have proposed already, unless-” He stops and Tony can see the thoughts racing through his head. He braced himself for any kind of nonsense to come out of his mouth – and yet he still wasn’t prepared for his next words. “You already had her.”

Tony can only stare at the man. “What?”

“If you have, you must tell me,” Killian suddenly demands, a firmness – almost anger – to his voice that hadn’t been there before. “Because if I know that she is already damaged and loose, not intact, I would-”

“Stop. Talking,” he growls, stepping forward until he is right in Killian’s personal space. Tony knows he is not the tallest man in all of England, in fact he is even smaller than Killian right now, but he has learned how to make himself appear bigger, how to command the respect and attention and seem like more of a threat than he first appears. He is using all of that, all of what Lady Carter taught him, right now, making sure that there is no question who has the upper hand in this.

Fury burns through his veins for many reasons. Most of them have to do with Killian being an absolute arsehole who deserves so much worse than simply a broken nose. Tony frankly wishes that no woman ever has the misfortune of marrying that man.

“I shall not have you question the lady’s unimpeachable honour again,” he commands, the threat behind his words not subtle at all.

“Of course,” Killian quickly says. “That is all I wished to hear.”

“You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as her,” Tony sneers. “Now go. Before I forget myself.” Without sparing him another glance, he turns around, making his way back home.

He gets to take less than two steps before Killian speaks up again.

“And you think yourself good enough for her?” he asks, the scorn clear in his voice. “Or are you so unaware of your own reputation?”

Tony should go home. He should ignore him. Engaging in more conversation with him can only lead to more trouble for him.

Despite knowing that, Tony still finds himself turning back around to Killian. “I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, all of London knows about what you did across the continent.” Now that he found some point to attack him with, the man seems much more confident. “The drinking, the feasts, the… company for the nights. If Lady Whistledown would have been around already, she could’ve filled books with all of those stories.”

The urge to claim he isn’t that man anymore comes up in Tony, but he keeps his mouth shut. Yes, he had been quite reckless in his past, indulging in too many sins to claim to be respectable and proper, but the truth is also that he has changed from that. Ever since he woke up in Yinsen’s cot, his life hasn’t been the same. He had not a single drop of alcohol, too afraid it would loosen him enough that he would speak about things he doesn’t want to speak about; he avoids feasts and celebrations because too often it happens that the crowd makes him suddenly uneasy and he has to fight the urge to hide away; and he is celibate, the tiny scar on his chest feeling too big and important to even dare to expose it to anyone.

However, Tony isn’t going to give Killian the satisfaction of explaining himself. With his jaw set, Tony moves to go, but that man is still not finished.

“Then again, I shouldn’t be so surprised about it. They always say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and I heard the stories about your father.”

It feels like something snaps in Tony.

Since he re-joined the ton, people (especially mamas who hope to gain his favour by this) have compared him to the late duke plenty: his looks, his brain, his charm, his name, of course. Whenever Lady Carter was present for these comments, she would quickly change the subject, drawing the attention to something entirely different. He guesses he should be at least a little used to people bringing up the late duke and comparing them – but Tony isn’t.

“I believe the man danced with half of London,” Killian continues, confident now that he found something that he can use for an attack, “and he invited all of those charming ladies to his mansion. He seemed really desperate to get another heir, no matter how scandalous that might have been.”

It takes everything for Tony to fight the urge to turn around and punch Killian until he is able to speak another word for at least a fortnight.

“But then again, with that mother of yours it isn’t really surprising that you turned out disappointing.”

Tony loses the fight.


It is a nice spring afternoon with just a few fluffy, white clouds slowly moving across the bright sky. The sun has already warmed the air around them to a pleasing temperature, and Pepper kind of longs to just hold her face in the sunlight and feel its warmth. She doesn’t, though, knowing it would only redden her skin in a vexatious manner, so she stays underneath the pavilion with Lady Rhodes and James, watching the other families gathered under their own pavilions for the picnics.

Their cooks prepared a wonderful assortment of pastries and dishes, including a blueberry pie that Pepper might or might not have requested after having promenaded with Lord Stark-… Tony the first time. She still feels conflicted about the night before. Tony had no right to tell James what happened, least of all in a room full of people who like nothing more than gossip all day long (by some miracle, Lady Whistledown wrote nothing about it in her column), but it’s also the reason why James has finally let go the idea of her marrying Killian.

Maybe she can come up with a half-apology, something that expresses both her irritation and gratitude.

Pepper lets her eyes wander around the park as she waits for Tony to arrive; he is late, just like he promised. Children of all ages are playing games while their parents lounge on chairs or blankets. The Romanoff family is next to them, Lord Romanoff’s loud laughter echoing over to them while Lady Romanoff grins widely, both of them watching their daughters have what seems like a small competition who can pirouette the longest, whispering encouragements in Russian. They might seem a bit too brash or odd for the ton, but Pepper knows they’re a lovely family who simply aren’t afraid to be loud. After all, a man with a booming voice like Lord Romanoff can’t be quiet.

“Looking for new suitors?” James asks as he notices her wandering gaze.

Pepper’s eyes flicker to him. “Always.”

He hums, letting his eyes wander as well before clearing his throat. “Several gentlemen approached me at the club the other day, all inquiring about you. If you would like, I will make introductions with the most interesting ones.” It is his way of apologizing without really saying it. James knows he made a mistake, not only by entertaining Killian but by keeping everyone away from her as well. Pepper is certain that he will use the actual words to apologize at one point eventually, but he is still licking the wounds of his ego. Pepper will grant him the time to find his courage – she already decided she will bring this up during every single dinner whenever it pleases her and she needs to make a point against James. As soon as this is something they can all laugh about, of course.

Raising an eyebrow, Pepper turns towards him. “And will you let me talk to them?”

“Of course.”

“Alone?”

He actually manages not to scrunch up his nose. “Well, I presume I might suddenly have to write a letter when one of those gentlemen happens to stop by for tea. Assuming the door stays open and Humboldt is present.”

“Are you suggesting we would do something improper otherwise?”

“No, of course not. The gentlemen are all perfectly respectable.” James pauses before a smirk steals itself on his face and he lowers his voice. “And from what I’ve seen, you are very capable of defending your own honour.”

“I am offended that you ever believed differently,” she answers in an equally low voice. “I am also not afraid to defend myself against my dear brother when he does something stupid that affects me.”

“Does that mean you wouldn’t defend my honour if I did something stupid that didn’t affect you?”

“If you really think I would miss the chance to embarrass you by cleaning up your messes, you truly don’t know me at all.”

James laughs a bit too loudly to be really appropriate, but Pepper doesn’t care – in fact, she snickers along, not even using her fan to hide her open mouth. She missed this, this easiness and teasing between them. Ever since she had her debut and James started to feel like it is his sole duty to find her a husband, their relationship had been strained in a way that annoyed her too much. She needs his friendship and his support on this journey, not his overbearingness.

“I don’t think you really need to entertain other suitors, my dear,” Lady Rhodes says, having overheard at least the audible parts of the conversation. “The duke-”

“The duke, for all his intelligence, is one of the densest men I’ve ever met when it comes to his own feelings,” James says with a roll of his eyes.

Pepper raises an eyebrow again. “Isn’t he your best friend?”

“He is. That is why I can say it.” She snickers again. “I do not believe Pepper should simply wait for him to come to his senses and propose. It might take years.”

“Have some faith in your friend,” Lady Rhodes chastises him and Pepper has a sudden burning interest in the pastries in front of them. “I am sure the duke will propose soon enough, especially if Pepper really does show interest in other gentlemen.”

“For all the years I’ve known him, he’s never mentioned that he wishes to marry. In fact, he was quite certain about never marrying. I don’t know why he has decided to behave so uncharacteristically and court Pepper, but I would stop planning the wedding until he has actually proposed. While being sober. And meaning it in earnest.”

“Oh, would you like him to manifest it in a letter as well?” Lady Rhodes asks, once again proving where her children get the sarcasm from.

James nods. “Yes, actually. That would help me believe it.”

“If James is so certain the duke won’t propose, it only makes sense for me to look for other gentlemen,” Pepper says, trying to sound like a heartbroken girl who has just been denied her dream prince.

“And I believe there will be plenty,” James says with a nod, plugging a grape from the vine and plopping it into his mouth. “The real challenge will be choosing one.”

“That is indeed true.”

“Oh, nonsense,” Lady Rhodes says, waving a hand through the air, seemingly moved on from the idea of Pepper marrying Tony no matter what. “There is no need to complicate the matter. You simply have to choose the one who feels like your dearest friend.”

Before Pepper can remind herself of her manners, she gives the lady an unimpressed look. “Oh, is that all? Is it that easy?”

“Yes, my dear, it is.”

James has the decency to at least try to stifle his laughter as Pepper can only stare at the woman and wonder how she completely missed her sarcasm, while she had been the one who taught her how to use it. Or maybe she simply chose to ignore it – one can never be quite sure with Lady Rhodes. However, before Pepper can continue asking what other easy ways there are to find a husband, Tony appears in their field of vision, slowing his horse down as he comes closer and handing it off to someone standing close by to lead it to the other horses after he jumped down.

“You may go and promenade with him,” Lady Rhodes says, and before James can offer to come along, Pepper jumps up from her seat and walks over to him.

Tony meets her with a charming smile and a quick bow. “Good morning, Pepper.”

“Good morning, Tony,” she adds his name after a second, hopefully a subtle way of indicating that she isn’t as angry at him anymore as the night before.

There’s a subtle shift in his posture, like he let go of a breath he’s been holding. “Should we rejoin your family at their camp? The food already looks delicious from all the way over here – and is that blueberry pie I’m seeing?”

“We should go promenading first,” she says instead and Tony simply accepts that with a nod of his head and clasping his hand behind his back instead of offering her his arm. There is an uneasy tension between them that hadn’t even been there when they first met (or rather: met again), and it’s making Pepper nervous that Tony is so silent, not even making teasing comments about the gentlemen she danced with the night before.

Taking charge, she clears her throat. “You were late.”

He looks at her, cocking up an eyebrow. “Are you telling me you haven’t already readjusted your plans to fit in my being late?”

“Of course I have.”

“I expected nothing less of you. Although, maybe next time I will be on time, simply to throw you off.”

“The worst part of this is that I believe you.” Tony chuckles and Pepper feels like the newly grown ice between them broke. She gathers her courage, keeping her head high and pushing her chin forward. “About yesterday-”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts her, keeping his eyes straight ahead. It kind of looks like it physically hurts him to say the words, but he pushes through it. “For telling Rhodey something I had no right to tell.”

“You’re right, you had no right to tell him,” Pepper says, and after a heartbeat she adds, “but I suppose I also have to thank you for it. James did finally break off the arrangement with Killian.”

A smile pulls at his lips. “So, you’re saying that I don’t have to be sorry.”

“No, you misunderstand me. You were out of line.”

“But I still did a good thing.”

“Purely by accident.”

“I wouldn’t call it an accident, more like a calculated risk.”

“I don’t appreciate risk, no matter how calculated-”

“I am excellent at calculating-”

“Just be grateful that Whistledown didn’t write about it,” Pepper interrupts him, “or else this conversation would’ve gone quite differently.”

“Well, I guess I should send Lady Whistledown flowers as soon as her identity is revealed.” The smile turns into a mischievous smirk. “Once there are flowers back in town, that is.” Pepper laughs, and if the people around them think it is because they’re passing another group of potential suitors, then she isn’t going to correct them.

They continue to walk side by side, and Pepper thinks that if Tony would offer her his arm right now, she would take it – not necessarily for other people to see, but because she is starting to grow quite fond of their conversations, no matter how frustrating he can be.

“Have you found any interesting suitors yet?” Tony asks eventually. “If the light wasn’t playing a trick on my eyes, you spent almost the entire evening on the dance floor. And never with the same dance partner.”

“Oh, I have my eyes on a few that I would like to get to know better,” she answers, thinking back to the few gentlemen she truly enjoyed talking to and dancing with. However, her thoughts drift somewhere else, and before she can regret the decision, Pepper is already talking again. “Imagine you do actually marry-”

“I won’t,” Tony quickly interrupts her in a firm voice that leaves no room for any discussion.

Pepper doesn’t even bother to roll her eyes. “Which is why I said imagine you would marry.” Tony nods once. “How would you choose?”

“Don’t you mean who?”

“No, I mean how. How does someone determine who will be a good spouse?”

“Well, I suppose it should be the one you love.”

This time, she throws him a glance that clearly says to take this matter seriously. “We both know that love matches are very rare, and yet plenty of people still get married.” Tony hums, but stays silent otherwise, maybe thinking about her words or trying to figure out what she wants to hear. “Lady Rhodes told me a curious thing. She said one should marry their dearest friend.”

He turns towards her, his face more serious than ever before. “Are you suggesting I marry Rhodey?” Pepper can’t help but chuckle, and, of course, Tony gets bolder because of it. “I suppose that isn’t such a bad idea. After all, he still tolerates me after years at Oxford. If anyone would survive being married to me, it would be him.”

“You are under the impression that James would accept your proposal.”

“You think he wouldn’t? Why? Did he say something?”

“I am being serious,” Pepper says, not bothering to hide or suppress her smile. Tony sighs dramatically, but drops the issue of marrying James. “If marrying really is about finding one’s dearest friend, how can anyone accept a proposal from someone they’ve only talked to twice?”

“I assume that feelings – no matter of love or friendship – don’t play a significant role in those unions,” he ponders, now a bit more serious and maybe even intrigued by the topic. “I think it is important that you don’t grow bored of the other person.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“If someone snores terribly, you can always have separate bedrooms. If someone has terrible table manners, you can simply sit at the far end of the dining table. But… if you can’t have a conversation with someone because they’re just too boring, I think that is what truly dooms a marriage.” He tilts his head to the side. “However, I admit that I could be wrong. I’ve never been married, after all.”

“And, according to the rumours, you grow bored of your partners quite quickly,” Pepper says. However, despite the barb, she can’t help but think there’s truth to his words. If love and even friendship are truly not part of her marriage, then having someone she wants to talk to is really the best she can hope for. After all, they would have to spend the rest of their lives together – or, at least, until one of them dies. Nothing seems more dreadful than to spend so much time with a person you don’t even want to have a conversation with.

“I haven’t grown bored of you, if that is your concern,” Tony jests, that easy smile back on his face.

Yet, good sir. You haven’t grown bored of me yet. It is only a matter of time until you do.” (Maybe there is a smidgen of disappointment in her over that prospect. However, she also knows that once the duke is back in Hastings, the fragile friendship they’re building will fade away and make things easier.)

“You are allowed to take pride in that, Pepper. Because, according to my own words, you would be the most suitable option.”

“Except you won’t marry.”

“And you don’t want to marry me.”

“Precisely,” she says with a certain finality in her voice. Tony simply chuckles lowly, but doesn’t press on the matter. This time, it is Pepper who can’t stay quiet, sighing in frustration. “No one ever told me it would be… such a battle to find a husband.”

“A battle, huh?” he smiles before puffing out his chest, turning towards her with a solemn expression. “Then I will be your trusted general, Miss Potts.”

She quirks up an eyebrow, but manages to hide her smile. “Oh, a general, is it? I believe you would rather be a simple soldier.”

“Preposterous! Simply because of my title, I should be a general. Not to mention all my wonderful qualities.”

“I guess the King and the Queen can count themselves lucky to have such a brave general.”

“And handsome, let’s not forget that. And ingenious. And-”

“Modest?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that, of course, but if you’re saying that, I guess it has to be true.” They both laugh – or rather snort and chuckle, but it is sincere and that is all that counts.

They walk for a little while, talking about the night before, Pepper speaking about the most terrible and boring gentlemen and Tony about how dense some people could be. Neither one of them is really surprised that their talk is about boring conversation when they just established boredom is the death of marriage, but they also don’t point it out to each other.

When they’re almost back at the Rhodes’ pavilion, they come across a group of gentlemen ahead of them, playing a game of pall mall – or at least they had been playing before they grew more interested in the couple promenading.

Suddenly remembering that this isn’t simply for their entertainment but has a more serious purpose, Pepper steps in front of Tony, who blinks in surprise, and holds up her wrist to him. “Button my cuff.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“My cuff,” she repeats, slightly nodding towards her wrist where the cuff of her sleeve is unbuttoned. “I do believe it needs to be buttoned.”

Tony blinks once more before he finally catches up with what she is doing, his eyes jumping to the men not too far away. The smirk reappears on his face. “Indeed. Allow me to assist you with it.” He grabs her hand and brings it closer to his face, as if he needs to get a good look to see the very visible buttons.

There are a lot of things Pepper could concentrate on. How his breath tickles the little bit of skin exposed between her short glove and her sleeve. How he works at an almost sluggish pace. How his fingers brush over her skin and that they are unexpectedly calloused. How there is a certain glimmer in his eyes that she can’t decide if she likes or despises, for it certainly means trouble.

However, she is concentrating on none of those things, because now she can see his hands for the first time this morning.

“Whatever happened to your hand?” she asks, sounding breathless as she fights the urge to grab his hands to inspect them herself. The skin around his knuckles is red and broken, clearly having been hurt in a fight.

As if he burnt himself, Tony immediately lets go of her hand, moving to hide his hands behind his back again, but one stern look from Pepper stops him. “An accident. You don’t need to worry.”

“An accident?”

“Yes, a boxing accident. Despite what you might think of my boxing abilities, my right hook is just as mean as yours.”

“And what did that accident look like?”

“It was-” Tony stops, his attention caught by something behind her. All humour drains out of his face and he curses in a clipped manner she hasn’t expected from him. Pepper turns around, curious what could discomfit him so much –

And she sees Aldrich Killian walking towards their pavilion like a man on a mission, a piece of paper clutched in his grip.

His face looks like someone beat him bloody.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened.

Pepper turns back to Tony so fast, her hair almost falls out of its knot. “A boxing accident, was it?” Her tone is so sharp, you could cut something with it – but it is still relatively harmless compared to the look in her eyes.

Tony sniffs once. “I mean, technically, it wasn’t a lie. Boxing was involved and I didn’t exactly plan for it to happen.”

Deciding she can chastise him later for this, Pepper hurries over to the pavilion, where James and Lady Rhodes had been talking to the Romanoff family, enjoying the perfectly pleasant day until that man had decided to ruin it.

“I bring good news,” Killian says in a cheery tone. Everyone immediately turns towards him, most of them frowning at the state of his face. Yelena narrows her eyes at the man, as if she is trying to hurt him simply by imagining it enough, and Natasha’s eyes jump from him to Pepper and then Tony’s hands. “I have taken matters into my own hands and sought a special license for our wedding.”

“And whose wedding might that be?” Lady Romanoff asks in a clip voice, her accent more prominent because of her anger.

“Mine and Miss Potts’, of course.”

“There is to be no wedding,” Pepper immediately says, hating that smug smile on his face. It makes her want to punch him again – and this time, not by accident.

“I have already told you that the arrangement is cancelled,” James all but growls, taking a step forward but getting stopped by Lady Rhodes, who is the only one trying to hide her annoyance.

“Lord Killian, you look in a great deal of pain,” she says with a strained smile. “Shall we continue this conversation in a more private location?”

“There is no need for that, Lady Rhodes. Though it is a pleasure to finally talk to the true head of the Rhodes family. For if it were you,” he looks towards James, whose jaw is so tense, it looks like it might snap any second, “I imagine you would’ve instructed Miss Potts to take better care than to encourage certain attention while alone with me in the gardens at Vauxhall. Of course, mere hearsay of such a scandal could wreak havoc on even the most influential of families.”

“You act as if it weren’t you who-,” Tony starts but Pepper throws him a quick, very sharp glance.

“Shut your mouth,” she hisses. Her heart beats in her throat. If Killian really starts telling people about the night at Vauxhall, it would start a chain reaction. Her reputation would be tarnished, making her so undesirable that even Tony’s help could not fix it, not to mention all the shame she would bring to the Rhodes family because of it, and society would pressure Killian into marrying her, as it would be the honourable thing to do. He would get what he wanted from the start, and while people might whisper about the nature of their marriage, something like that isn’t uncommon.

It doesn’t even matter if the accusations are true, the rumours would spread through London like wildfire. Even faster if Lady Whistledown decides to write about it.

There is no way out of this unless Killian willingly says no to the wedding. And if the lecherous and triumphant smile on his face is anything to go by, he is not likely to do that.

“Is that a threat?” James asks.

“Certainly not,” Killian answers with the smile still in place. “Because in three days, I am going to marry the diamond of the season. The very best the ton has to offer this year; Miss Virginia Potts.” Pepper never hated that stupid title more than in this moment. “And I am looking very much forward to the union of our families. Good day, everyone.”

Pepper barely notices Killian leaving. The air around her feels suddenly too stiff and it is nearly impossible for her to draw in a single breath. All too quickly, she starts to feel faint, and in a flash, Natasha and Yelena are at her side – having shoved Tony out of the way, who had been a bit too slow at moving towards her – grabbing her arms and holding her hand, one of them fanning her some air. She must look as bad as she feels.

“That man has not a single decent bone in his body,” Lady Romanoff tuts, holding a glass out for both Lady Rhodes and Pepper that could either be filled with water or vodka. Right now, Pepper doesn’t really care.

The burn in her throat tells her that it was indeed vodka. Lady Rhodes reaches for a second one.

“I must issue my challenge to Killian right away,” James says, clenching and unclenching his hands.

Lord Romanoff nods, arms crossed over his chest and looking like he already has a fleshed-out plan in his mind. “Of course. I have plenty of experience with these matters, my lord, do not worry. There’s a doctor who is very discreet for the right amount of bribery, and a… friend of mine has a piece of land just outside of London where no one will look twice at a freshly dug out piece of soil. And I will be your second, of course.”

“I will be your second,” Tony says, stepping to the two men. “You have gotten me out of tight spots so often, it is about time I return the favour.”

“We will both be your second,” Lord Romanoff decides in a voice that allows no protest.

“I need a pistol,” James says.

“You can have mine,” Tony suggests at the same time as Lord Romanoff, who says: “I have an entire collection, you can take your pick.”

That finally snaps Pepper out of her stupor.

“You are not to duel with Lord Killian.” Her voice is a lot firmer than she herself expected it to be, considering how much her knees are shaking.

All eyes turn towards her. “Pepper,” James says in a voice that clearly says she has lost her mind, “what he did-”

“First of all, it is illegal, not to mention positively horrific,” Pepper continues, not allowing him to talk over her. “And if you truly think that all our problems will disappear if that man suddenly disappears after declaring our marriage in the middle of a picnic with half of London present, then you are gravely mistaken.”

“There are rumours that deserve to have deadly consequences,” Lord Romanoff murmurs, and – Pepper can’t really say if she is surprised or not – the ladies of the Romanoff family nod in agreement.

James doesn’t give up. “I have to-”

“You have done enough!” Pepper hisses and her eyes jump to Tony. “Both of you. You, dear brother, by even accepting his proposal in the first place, and you, Your Grace, by angering him even more. I think it is finally time for you to stop getting involved in any part of this matter.” Neither of them look happy, but they keep their mouths shut.

Taking a deep breath, Pepper composes herself, squeezing Natasha’s and Yelena’s hands as a sign of gratitude towards their support (even though they look like they’d rather challenge Killian to a duel themselves, and she doesn’t doubt that they have been properly trained for it) before standing up towards her full height. She enjoys solving problems, especially those involving people.

And there is only one solution for this.

Pepper turns towards Lady Rhodes. “We should head home. After all, we have a wedding to plan and three days are not a lot of time.”

Notes:

Looks like Pepper has found a husband - or has she? 🤔 Or will there be a freshly dug grave on the country side?

If you enjoyed this story, please leave me a comment :) If you didn't enjoy this story, please leave a comment as well and tell me why :)

Also: I'm looking for a bit more bonding/pining moments for these two to add, just so their relationship can develop a bit more naturally, so if there is anything you wanna see - scenes/conversations from the movies, headcanons, something that you find interesting of the setting of this AU - let me know! Maybe I can make it work :)

Chapter 6: Sly Friends

Notes:

Hi!

I know it's been a hot minute since the last update, but, y'know - life. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter, I had a blast writing it! Also as a side note: Yelena will be in here and I wrote this before I watched Black Widow, so her character might be a bit off.

Big thank you to ghostly-blues for beta-reading this!

Enjoy! :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Pepper allows herself one night of spiralling and feeling sorry for herself and her future.

During the terrible tense carriage ride back to their home in London, Pepper didn’t utter a single word. Immediately after setting one foot into the house, she starts planning the wedding, as three days truly isn’t a lot of time. James thinks her insane, she knows that, but if she pretends it is not her wedding but the one of another poor girl, it is almost enough to make her forget about the nauseated feeling deep inside her. Hiding away in her favourite corner of the library, she makes lists over lists, writing down venues, cooks, guests, orchestras, dresses and whatever crosses her mind. As long as her quill moves over the parchment, she can pretend that everything will be fine.

Later, after a very silent dinner with James missing (he is no doubt at the club, maybe drinking the pain away or still entertaining ridiculous fantasies about challenging Killian to a duel), Pepper retreats to her bed chamber for an early night. There, in her bed with the curtains drawn shut and all the candles blown out, her kitten pressed against her chest, she allows herself to fall apart. Her tears wet the soft fur and the animal tries to console her, meowing softly and licking her wet cheeks. It does very little to comfort her.

How did her plan go so disastrously wrong? She was supposed to marry the most eligible bachelor of the season, bringing pride and joy over the Rhodes family, making them proud of her – and now she has to marry Aldrich Killian. It feels like an especially cruel joke.

The next morning, Pepper doesn’t want to get out of bed. But she wouldn’t be Pepper Potts if she is anything but efficient. Trying to motivate herself by thinking about all the planning she has to do, Pepper gets ready for the day. However, when Lady Rhodes tells her that Killian’s mother will be coming over for tea, she wants to hurry back to her chamber and curl herself into a tight ball under the covers. She doesn’t, of course; instead she helps set up everything for tea in the drawing room.

Lady Killian is an even more unpleasant person than her son, which Pepper thought impossible. She is overly sure of herself and praises her son to the moon and back, going on and on about his accomplishments, and how he turned away so many debutantes – all more beautiful than Pepper, as she points out with a smile – because he wants to marry for love. To tell the truth, Pepper is impressed by her own restraint, for all she does is smile and nod.

Lady Rhodes is very forthcoming to Lady Killian, laughing about her jests as if they are the most entertaining words she ever heard – they aren’t – and praising her and Lord Killian to no end. Pepper doesn’t know what possessed the woman, but she keeps staying silent. Eventually, the conversation moves towards the wedding planning, which puts Pepper at ease. This is something she knows, something that gives her comfort. Of course, Lady Killian takes that comfort away with a wave of her hand, dismissively saying that an unmarried woman such as she doesn’t know what needs to be done.

Seconds stretch into eternity as Pepper sits at the table in silence, listening to the truly horrific ideas Lady Killian has, but then Humboldt steps into the room, clearing his throat. “Miss Potts, there is a visitor waiting for you in the library.”

Immediately, she sits up a bit straighter. This could be her chance to escape this very special kind of Hell. Her eyes jump to Lady Rhodes, begging her as subtly as possible to let her go. “I think you should go and entertain your guest,” Lady Rhodes thankfully says. “After all, once you’re a wife, you will have to learn to be a good hostess.”

“Yes, that is true,” Lady Killian agrees with a vigorous nod of her head that almost catapults that tacky little hat on her hair over the table. “My Aldrich values impeccable manners quite highly.”

“Then I shall go and practice,” Pepper says with a smile. The common pleasantries flow out of her mouth without her paying a lot attention to them, and she hurries out of the room as fast as her manners allow her. Once she is far away from the room to be out of sight, she stops for a second, leaning against the wall and taking a deep breath.

Is there a point in pretending that this isn’t her real life? That she won’t be related to that woman for the rest of her life? Pepper prays that Killian doesn’t insist on his mother living with them – she is not quite sure she would be able to remain polite for it.

Eventually, she collects herself and makes her way towards the library, wondering who this visitor might be. They have a second, smaller drawing room to receive other guests, just next to their usual drawing room. The library is further away, and Lady Killian wouldn’t see them on her way out. If the visitor specifically asked to be put into the library, that means they must know the layout of the mansion, which only leaves their friends, and from those it is most likely that someone from the Romanoff family stopped by to maybe talk about yesterday’s events.

However, Pepper is mistaken, because when she walks through the open doors of the library, she sees Tony sitting in one of the chairs, a basket of strawberries next to him, and her kitten in his hands, gently scratching him behind his ears. It looks strangely surreal.

He notices her before she manages to utter even a word. Keeping the kitten in his hands, he hastily raises to his feet, doing a half-bow as a greeting. “Miss Potts. Thank you for seeing me.”

“What are you doing here?” she asks, still standing in the open door of the library.

Tony actually seems nervous. “I wanted to see if you are alright.”

“I am engaged. Our… agreement is over. There is no need for you to pretend-”

“I’m not,” he interrupts her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, maybe, or irritation. “Pretending, that is. Our agreement is not the reason why I am here.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I told you. I wanted to see if you are alright.” He pauses and then he sounds almost unsure of his words. “I wanted to see if my friend is alright.”

Pepper’s eyebrows shoot up. “Your friend?”

“Yes, my friend. I do consider you my friend, Miss Potts, and no matter what you might think of me, I do care about the wellbeing of my friends.” Under his breath, he adds: “Especially if they’re being forced to marry an entitled arsehole.”

There is the immediate urge to deny that statement, to say that they aren’t friends, because as a woman and a man who are both at the marriageable age, it is somewhat uncommon for them to be friends. One can have childhood friends or friends of the same gender, and once you’re married you are free to make new friends again, but during that time one is on the marriage market, a woman doesn’t make friends with men, she has suitors. Friend is a nicer word for lover.

But the more she thinks about it, the more Pepper has to agree that they are somewhat friends. Maybe they haven’t known each other as long as Tony has known James or Pepper the Romanoff sisters, but they meet each other, they talk to each other, they jest together – and since they aren’t courting, not in earnest at least, the only way their relationship can be described as is as friendship.

The thought doesn’t irritate Pepper as much as she initially thought. In truth, it is almost comforting.

On the other hand, Tony still seems nervous – or at least nervous for his standard. Fidgeting fingers that are playing with the fur and him calling her Miss Potts instead of Pepper. It is somewhat endearing to see his nervousness about a nice gesture that has absolutely nothing to do with their ruse.

Pepper doesn’t really know how to react, so she looks at the basket. “Did you bring me strawberries?”

“Ah, these,” Tony says, setting the cat down to now take the basket and holding it out for her, clearly grabbing for the chance to change the subject. “I saw them on my way here and the man on the market said they are the most delicious strawberries in all of England, so I-”

“Are you aware that there is only one food I am severely allergic to? And that food is-”

“-so I got them for myself to eat while I wait,” he interrupts her loudly, setting the basket down on the table so fast and forcefully, that a few of them jump out of it, rolling over the table. Tony grabs one, pushing it into his mouth except for the green leaves, and making a show out of humming in approval. “The man was right, they really are the most delicious strawberries. Maybe in the entire world! But I definitely did not get them for you, Miss Potts, only for me. Because I am selfish like that.” Either to prove his point or to stop talking, he eats another strawberry.

Pepper has to bite down on her lips to keep herself from smiling. Instead, she picks up the kitten who wandered over to her and sits down on one of the chaise lounges nearby. “I believe we dropped the honorifics.”

“I wasn’t so certain if you were still willing to do that,” Tony confesses as he also sits back down. The nervousness slowly fades away from him. “You seemed quite angry with me.”

“Because I was.”

“I never meant to hurt or cause you pain in any way, Pepper.” There is so much honesty in his voice and written all over his face that Pepper is forced to believe him.

“I know,” she eventually says, dropping her eyes to the animal in her lap. One could describe Tony as many things, but cruel isn’t one. “Why did you do it?” He doesn’t answer, running his thumb over the still red knuckles of his other hand. The silence bothers her so much that Pepper looks up to him again. “Did he threaten you? Or insult you?”

“I don’t concern myself with threats or insults towards me,” he answers almost nonchalantly, like those things are such mundane occurrences for him that he simply pays them no attention.

For a second, Pepper thinks about following up on that statement for reasons she can’t quite name right now, but she decides that she can always ask him about him later. “Then why?” A thought crosses her mind. “Did he say something about me?”

Tony doesn’t answer immediately. “Among other things.”

“And what were those other things?” The duke eats another strawberry instead of answering. Pepper narrows her eyes. “I do believe I deserve an answer to that. After all, I am engaged now.”

His eyes slowly move back to her. “You are very good at making other people feel guilty, Miss Potts.”

“Only when they have something to feel guilty about.”

Tony snorts, but it is not as carefree as he most likely wants it to be. Deciding to give him some time, Pepper stays silent, brushing her hands through the cat’s fur. After a few moments, he opens his mouth again. “He talked about the late duke.”

Pepper blinks. She had picked up on his cold demeanour towards the late Lord Stark, both because he never gives the man the title of his father and because he prefers to be called something that doesn’t remind him of the man. Of course, there is also the fact that he grew up with Lady Carter instead of the late duke. Even though she doesn’t know what happened between them, it is clear for anyone who pays attention that Tony isn’t fond of the man.

“And that made you angry?”

“Yes.” He hesitates. “It wasn’t what made me punch him, though.”

Getting the answer out of him is like pulling teeth, but Pepper stays patient. “Then what made you punch him?”

Tony looks back at his red knuckles, his brows pulled together in either anger or frustration. When he speaks, his voice is barely loud enough to be heard. “He said something about my mother.” There is clearly more to his words than he wants to let on.

Pepper tries to remember everything she can about the late duchess of Hastings, but nothing comes to mind. “Were you two close?”

He snorts in a humourless way. “Not exactly, but I am very protective of her.” Finally, Tony looks up again, but still not at her. “Or rather, I am protective of my idea of her. I never really met her, considering we spent essentially less than two minutes together.”

Despite knowing it is quite rude, Pepper can’t help but blink at him in surprise. It is well known that Tony’s mother died when he was young, but she wasn’t aware that he never got to know her at all. Her thoughts stray to her own dead parents, which doesn’t happen as often as it probably should. She is more than familiar with the anger that can fill you when other people talk badly about your parents, no matter how much time you actually spent with them.

“I don’t blame you for this,” Pepper eventually says.

Tony looks at her, his face emotionless. “That is the worst lie I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. And you are currently pretending to be smitten by me.”

There’s a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. “You only played a small part in all of this.”

“Still don’t believe you.”

“You share the blame in equal parts with James and Killian.”

“Finally, the truth.”

As a response, she only rolls her eyes, but Pepper is thankful that the tension has eased. “How did you get Humboldt to bring you here?”

“That man was strangely cooperative,” Tony says, taking another strawberry and biting into it. “I mentioned that I wished to see you and before I could even begin bribing him with these delicious strawberries, he already ushered me inside and told me to wait here.”

“Humboldt has always been kind,” she says, smiling. The butler has been here since the day Pepper arrived and while he might not be her family in the way the Rhodes’ are, she does hold him dear. After all, he has always listened and given her his honest opinion when she asked for it.

“He said something about another visitor. Who is it?”

“My future mother-in-law.”

Tony stills, clearly not knowing how to react. “And… is she a lovely lady?”

“She is worse than her son.” He laughs and Pepper, who normally tries not to gossip, can’t hold back, needing to let the frustration that has been sitting in her chest all day long out into the open. “She praises him like he has just received a sainthood from the pope himself.”

“Does that already count as blasphemy?”

“I am certain she believes he is just as important as the Lord.” Pepper pauses. “At least.” Tony chuckles. “I, on the other hand, need to try harder. Something about him choosing accomplishments above beauty – I was too busy restraining myself from throwing my tea into her face.”

He tilts his head to the side. “I believe no matter my answer, it will get me in trouble.”

“My beauty is my greatest accomplishment!” she says, completely enraged by Lady Killian’s comment. Pepper didn’t spend years working on her appearance for someone to claim it was nothing. Especially not from someone who doesn’t know what colours or dress styles are in season, how to powder one’s face, or apply just the faintest of lipstick. Not to mention that horrific coiffeur of hers with that little head. And that woman dares to tell her she needs to be more beautiful?

“Again, I feel like it would be better for my health not to answer this.”

Finally, Pepper notices how uncomfortable Tony looks, shifting his weight on his chair and refusing to meet her eyes. The polite way to handle this would be to change the subject to something he is more comfortable with – but there is something fun about making the man who is known to have almost no shame and make everyone uncomfortable feel this way. Besides, she believes that after the day she’s had, she deserves a bit of entertainment on his behalf. “Why? Do you not think I’m beautiful?”

He presses his lips in a thin line. “The Queen and Whistledown think you are the most beautiful lady in all of London.”

“Yes, I am aware of their opinions, but I asked for yours.”

Pepper allows herself to not sit upright, instead leaning back against the chair, petting the kitten in her arms while looking straight into Tony’s eyes. With each second, he seems more uncomfortable – until there is a sudden switch, the frown on his forehead exchanged for a smirk on his lips. Immediately, Pepper knows that her time of teasing him is over.

“Why, Miss Potts, of course you are the most beautiful woman in London,” he says in a voice filled with nothing but smugness. “No, not only London. I’ve travelled through all of Europe and even further and have never seen such a beauty as you!”

Pepper sighs. Why did she even start this game?

“In fact,” Tony carries on, “even Aphrodite and Venus can’t-”

“Aren’t they the same person? In theory, I mean,” Pepper interrupts him, hoping it’ll distract him.

It doesn’t. “Either way, they should hand over the crown of the Goddess of Beauty to you. And-”

“That is quite enough.”

“Didn’t you ask for my honest opinion?”

“If you say it like that, it does not come across as honest or sincere. It is the same with all the flowers you sent.”

“Well, if I remember correctly, the purpose of the flowers wasn’t for me to express my sincere opinion, but to draw attention to you. Which they did.”

“That is true,” Pepper sighs, thinking back only two days ago when everything had been going like she envisioned. Has it truly only been two days? It feels so much longer. As Tony eats another strawberry, her eyes fall onto the fruit. “Maybe I should eat one. At least it would spare me from marrying Killian.”

“Certainly not,” Tony says and sounds uncharacteristically stern while pushing the basket further away from her, as if he expects her to jump up and leap across the room to grab the fruit.

“Are you trying to tell me what to do?”

“No. But I will throw these strawberries out of the window before you can reach them.”

“The window behind you is closed.” Without breaking eye contact, Tony reaches behind him to open the window as best as he can – which is very amusing to watch, because it is much more of a challenge than he anticipated, but somehow Pepper manages to keep a blank face. “You are being childish.”

“As long as it keeps you from eating them, I am happy to be childish.”

Despite her best efforts, Pepper can’t completely hide that smile on her face as she hears the determination in his voice. Instead, she rolls her eyes and holds the cat closer to her chest, enjoying the feeling of him rubbing his head against her collarbone. “I was merely jesting. After all, I need to take care of Salt.”

Tony blinks twice before the seriousness from before vanishes from his face, replaced by a wide grin that has nothing in common with his usual smirk. “You truly named him Salt?”

“Well…” She realizes she doesn’t have a good excuse for using the name, so she decides to tell the truth. “It is a better name than anything I came up with. And I like the reasoning behind it.”

“I am great at finding names,” he says and somehow, he doesn’t sound arrogant, more proud than anything else. “For example, back as Oxford, I-”

They hear steps coming closer, echoing down the hallway.

Pepper’s eyes jump to the open door and a cold chill runs down her spine as she realizes the situation she’s in: once again alone with a man, completely unchaperoned. It doesn’t matter that there are several paces between them and that the door is wide open, as a young, engaged woman –… Pepper stops her train of thought. She is already engaged, against her will on top of that; would it matter if someone finds them her and accuses them of inappropriate behaviour? It would certainly displease the Killians, but isn’t that even more reason to not care about it?

However, before Pepper can decide if she truly doesn’t care about her reputation anymore, the steps reach the door. James almost walks past the library without seeing them, but then he stops dead in his tracks, standing in the doorway and blinking at them. To say that James looks tired is an understatement. He is clearly hungover, eyes blood-shot and dark bags underneath them. His clothes – the same from the day before – are rumpled and his vest is unbuttoned, the shirt half-hanging out of his breeches.

“Are you two alone in here?” he asks with a hoarse voice after seemingly deciding that they aren’t a hallucination.

“No, the cat is also here,” Tony answers, pointing towards Salt.

Pepper half-expects James to chastise them, considering how he has been acting the past few weeks. However, he only snorts, shuffling towards Pepper and sitting down next to her on the chaise lounge. Well, if you can call half lying on the chaise lounge and half lying on the floor sitting

Pepper scrunches up her nose. “You smell like a distillery.”

“Then I smell a lot better than I feel,” he answers, reaching out to lazily scratch Salt behind his ears.

“And did you drinking what I imagine is half of the shelf of liquor at the club help?” she asks in a clipped voice.

“It did give me a few ideas.”

“I assume those ideas are worse than the notion of duelling him.”

“Well… I guess that depends on the perspective.” Pepper rolls her eyes, and James uses her momentary speechlessness to turn towards Tony. “What are you doing here?”

“Witnessing a fight between siblings, it seems.” He tilts his head to the side. “Should I remove all sharp objects from the room or will that not stop you from killing each other?”

“Please, Stark, I can’t deal with your sassiness right now,” James sighs, sounding quite annoyed. “My head is already killing me as it is. I don’t need you to move the entire process along.”

“Maybe I should,” Tony muses. “I mean, Pepper did admit that all of this is your fault.”

“That is not what I have said,” she corrects him. “You both share equal parts of blame.”

“What? Only the two of us?” James asks, but then he blinks in confusion. “Since when does he call you Pepper? What do you call him?”

“I stopped by to support you and your family,” Tony says instead of answering the question. “After yesterday’s… events, I wanted to see how you are doing.”

“And you asked for strawberries?” James points out, eyeing the fruit that is usually quite rare in this house.

Pepper’s lips curl. “No, he brought them as a present for me.”

Immediately, James sits up straight. “He did- She is allergic to them!”

“Yes, now I know that,” Tony answers with an eye roll. “If someone would’ve enlightened me about the fact beforehand, I wouldn’t have bought them.”

“Why are you saying that like it was my duty?”

“Because she is your sister and you know her better than me! You know me, Rhodey, you should’ve at least uttered the words that strawberries can kill her once I started spending more time with her.”

“They don’t kill me,” Pepper says.

“We don’t know that,” James interjects, his voice still hard, probably remembering the time they found out Pepper can’t have the red fruit. The details are a bit blurry to her; all she remembers is how her throat swelled and breathing got more and more difficult with each second. She doesn’t know how she must have looked, but judging by the twitchy behaviour of all the Rhodes’ when a strawberry gets a bit too close to her, it must have been bad.

“Well, I won’t buy any again,” Tony says, biting into a berry. “For you, at least. I can eat as many as I want.”

“And I didn’t even touch them, so all is good, James,” Pepper tries to calm him down, patting his arm once.

Slowly, James relaxes again, sinking back into the cushions. “I heard voices from the drawing room,” he eventually says.

Immediately, Pepper’s mood darkens. “Yes, that’s your mother and Lady Killian.”

“How come you aren’t there with them?”

“I was for the better part of the morning, but then Tony arrived.”

“Like a knight in shining armour,” Tony says, looking as smug and proud as always.

“With a basket of strawberries,” James deadpans.

“Can we please stop talking about the damn strawberries?”

“Lady Killian decided it would be best for me to practice my hosting skills,” Pepper continues before James and Tony can continue bickering. “Which is why she practically sent me away. Not that she allowed me to help with the wedding planning in the first place.”

James blinks a couple of times at her, looking genuinely bewildered. “They’re planning the wedding and you’re not part of it?” Pepper nods, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Have they gone mad?”

“Isn’t it customary for the mothers to plan the wedding?” Tony asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Yes, but Mother hasn’t planned as much as an afternoon tea in years. Pepper does all of that.”

“You plan everything?” Pepper nods. Tony looks at her like she lost her mind. “For what hellish reason?”

She shrugs in what could be considered an unladylike manner. “I enjoy it.”

For a second, Tony continues to stare at her, trying to make sense of her words. Then, his usual smirk slides back on his face, and for a second it looks like he might say something, but his eyes jump to James and he simply eats another berry.

“Why did Mother agree to it?” James asks, pulling Pepper’s attention from Tony (or rather his lips – not that she would ever admit that!) back to him.

“I don’t know. She has been very… nice to Lady Killian and actually seemed eager to spend time with her. And if you would have met Lady Killian, you would know that no one would want to spend more time with her than necessary.”

“I’m certain she isn’t-”

“She told me to try harder.”

James’ face darkens. He’s seen Pepper try and try and when she reached perfection, she tried some more, danced until her feet were bleeding, practiced the pianoforte until it broke, and wrote the same letters again and again until she couldn’t even hold her spoon for dinner. He told her countless times that she should rest, that she is good enough, that she doesn’t need to try more.

It is quite nice that someone understands all that she is feeling without having to explain it.

“That entire family is a disgrace,” James mutters, leaning forward and cracking his knuckles. “I have to challenge him to a duel!”

“What is it with this family and death wishes when it comes to this little… setback?” Tony asks, sounding genuinely irritated and shaking his head. “First Pepper and the strawberries, now you and your duel! Does it run in the family? I do think the ton should be warned about it. I cannot believe you’re making me the reasonable one here.”

“I’m an excellent marksman,” James says.

“Yes, believe me, I know. I remember our days at Oxford, Rhodey. But while you were trying to find the answer to this dilemma at the bottom of a bottle of no doubt very delicious brandy, I asked around about Killian.”

Pepper sits up straight. Why is he mentioning that only now? Shouldn’t he have led with that in the first place? “What did you find out?”

“Well, Killian seems to be quite a skilled marksman himself, so your notion of easily dueling him is not that realistic.”

“And did you actually find something that can help us or is it simply more bad news?”

“I think that depends on the perspective.”

“Lord give me strength,” Pepper mutters, leaning back and closing her eyes. “So, you found nothing?”

“I did find something and I believe we can come up with a scheme that-”

We?” she interrupts him, though she can’t quite say why she is so surprised by it. While she always believed Tony capable of creating problems, she has never seen him as someone who tries to resolve them.

Judging by the way Tony is looking at her, her thoughts must be written all over her face. For a second, something flashes across his features but then they’re pulled into a mask of determination. “Yes, we. I fully intend to support you in this matter however I can. Since all of this is partly my fault, it is my duty to help with it.”

James snorts, rubbing his eyes. “You never had that mindset in Oxford. It would’ve spared me a lot of trouble.”

“I truly mean it,” Tony insists. “I want to help with this and I believe I can. All we need to do is come up with a good plan, which shouldn’t be too difficult between our three exceptionally smart heads.”

“That is very kind of you, Lord Stark,” a voice says, making all of them turn their heads towards the doorway. Lady Rhodes stands there, an almost amused smile on her face. Pepper can’t fathom why she looks this way, after spending so much time with Lady Killian. “But I do believe it would be unnecessary. Everything has already been arranged.”

It feels like someone dropped hot embers into Pepper’s stomach. If she hadn’t already been sitting, she is certain her legs would’ve given out underneath her.

“Mother, you can’t mean that in earnest!” James protests, jumping to his feet.

“Oh, I do mean it in earnest.”

“You simply let that man marry Pepper?”

“I will challenge him to a duel,” Tony announces, also getting to his feet.

James turns around to him. “Did you not just tell me I couldn’t duel him? And now you want to? That is hypocrisy!”

“It is not, for I can’t let you hurt yourself. But I, on the other hand, am completely fine with getting hurt.”

“No one will duel,” Lady Rhodes commands in a voice that allows no objection. Tears burn in Pepper’s eyes, but she takes a few deep breaths to keep them at bay.

“Pepper can’t marry that man,” James urges again, stepping closer to his mother.

Still with a smile on her face, Lady Rhodes turns towards him. “Who said she is going to marry him?”

That one question makes all of them pause.

Lady Rhodes gives the men a quick glance before walking towards Pepper, sitting down next to her and taking her hand. “My dear,” she says and squeezes her hand, “you didn’t really believe I would allow any of this to happen, did you?”

Pepper can’t help but stare at her. “What did you do?”

“The same thing Lord Stark planned to do, only we were more efficient.”

We?”

And then without any noise at all, Natasha and Yelena appear in the doorway, wearing dresses from Pepper’s maid and their characteristic cryptic smiles on their faces.

This entire situation gets weirder by the second.

Lady Rhodes pats her hand. “Did you really think I would invite that vile woman over without having a good reason to?”

“You were planning the wedding,” Pepper whispers.

“And you truly believed that you wouldn’t be part of it?” Lady Rhodes isn’t waiting for an answer and instead turns towards Natasha and Yelena, beckoning them closer. “What did you find out?”

“Find out?” James echoes, looking as lost as Pepper feels.

“We also asked around for information,” Yelena answers, “but unlike the duke, we knew who we had to ask.”

“There’s a reason our mother has as few servants in our house as possible,” Natasha explains, squeezing herself onto Pepper’s other side on the chaise lounge. “Some people often forget that servants have eyes and ears just like everyone else, and that those eyes and ears work just as well as everyone else’s. A woman like Lady Killian never goes anywhere without her handmaid.”

“And some handmaids,” Yelena continues, “love to gossip about the ladies they serve. Especially when those ladies are unkind to them.”

“Which Lady Killian is.”

“All it takes are some other maids,” she brushes a hand over her borrowed dress, “some tea, and the right questions.”

“You… pretended to be maids and talked to Lady Killian’s maid?” Pepper asks because she cannot believe this is true. Schemes like this only happen in books. The Romanoff sisters smile and nod.

“Now, tell us,” Lady Rhodes said, “what you found out.”

“He has a bastard child from a maid,” Natasha answers with a smirk.

“That is not… unusual,” James says, because it truly isn’t. Many highborn gentlemen have some illegitimate child, either because of their carelessness and lust or to secure some kind of heir if they can’t marry or have a childless marriage.

“It is when you send the maid away before the child is even born and refuse to support or even acknowledge them,” Yelena adds and Lady Rhodes gasps.

That, on the other hand, is quite something. Society allows men to overlook mistakes, as long as you take care of it in the proper manner – which, in this case, means providing for the child and mother. Especially because Killian has the funds to do that.

This could be the solution to their dilemma.

“The more I find out about that man, the more I do want to duel him,” James mutters, and Yelena agrees with a mumbled you’re not the only one.

However, worry still eats away at Pepper’s stomach. “But will it be enough?” she asks, rubbing a hand over her forehead. In this moment, she damns her mind for always jumping to creating new problems. For once, she doesn’t want to think about all the ways this could go bad.

“It will,” Tony speaks up, looking a bit lost in thought – or maybe that isn’t quite right, because Pepper can see the thoughts and ideas racing behind his eyes. “Before, should he really have made true on his threat to tell everyone what happened at Vauxhall, he was the one saving Pepper from a terrible reputation and doing the honourable thing. Now, he is refusing to take responsibility and trying to better his standing by marrying up.”

“That will only work if people find out about this before Killian opens his damn mouth,” Pepper says. “And the wedding is in two days, that is not a lot of time.”

“It is possible, if we get the right people talking about it,” Natasha insists, the smile on her face.

“Like who?”

“Like Lady Whistledown.” Immediately, Pepper sits back up straight. “If she writes about it, all of London will know in the morning.”

“But how can we guarantee that she will even write about it?”

“Lady Whistledown can’t resist scandalous gossip like this,” Lady Rhodes tries to reassure her, patting her hand again, though the excitement is written all over her face. “Why do you think that lady started the pamphlet in the first place?”

“She needs to hear about it first.”

“Which is why we already sent out all of the maids of your household and our household to spread the rumours,” Yelena concludes, now mirroring her sister’s smirk. “And no maid or servant can resist good gossip about the kind of people they serve. Lady Whistledown would have to be blind, deaf, and stupid to not notice it. And we already know she is none of those things.”

Pepper can only stare and blink, her eyes wandering from Lady Rhodes to the Romanoff sister, going over the plan again and again, looking for something that would make it fall apart, something that would keep her from getting her hopes up. But she finds none. “That is… it’s…”

“Brilliant,” Tony finishes the sentence. “Using the same kind of threat he used on you to beat him.”

The women look very proud and smug – rightfully so.

Tears gather in Pepper’s eyes as she realizes this might actually happen. This could work.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” she says, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible, but failing at it.

“Don’t marry an idiot,” Yelena immediately says.

Natasha throws her sister a look. “I thought we agreed on saying she should promise to marry for love.”

“Then she better not fall in love with an idiot,” Yelena shrugs, like Pepper has any control over who she falls in love with. However, right now, all she can do is laugh as the knot in her stomach eases away.

“This is such a perfect ending,” Tony says, coming closer to the women who are all now hugging each other with a wide grin on his face. “We, as a team, did such good work. I do believe this calls for a celebration. Now, yesterday, I spotted some blueberry pie, and please tell me there is still some of it left.”

We?” James asks, raising an eyebrow. “What did you do?”

“I was clearly the moral support.”

“You tried to poison Pepper by giving her strawberries.”

Tony groans loudly as Lady Rhodes, Natasha, and Yelena immediately start berating him about the fruit in question. Pepper can’t stop laughing, the tears in her eyes now because of her joy, and she wonders what she did to deserve such loyal friends and family.

Notes:

Little spoiler: this is the last we see of Killian. He was great to start the ruse and have them bond, but the real fun begins now ;) And another small spoiler: the next chapter will have some Irondad because it seems I'm unable to write a fic without them.

Please consider leaving a comment if you have a spare minute or even second, it motivates me a lot, and right now I really need the motivation to do anything but work and sleep :D

Chapter 7: A New Side

Notes:

Welcome back, everyone!

This chapter is my attempt at creating a lab moment, and it turned out... well, I tried my best. Turns out it's not that easy to find create a regency version of a chaotic-genius-in-his-lab moment.

Thank you to spideyspeaches for beta-reading this!

Enjoy! :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

On her supposed wedding day, Pepper takes the liberty of sleeping in and wallowing in some laziness. It is her way of celebrating that their scheme worked.

Yesterday morning, the newest article from Lady Whistledown appeared on everyone’s doorstep and that mixed with the already wide-spread rumours of Killian’s distasteful behaviour had everyone knowing about what the lord had tried to hide. By midday, Humboldt delivered them a very short letter from the Killians that the wedding was off, and several people saw the lord flee the city on top of a horse.

The Rhodes family celebrated by having all of their favourite dishes and opening their finest wines, laughing about all of it as if it had been nothing but a cunning joke from the start. Both the Romanoff household and Tony sent letters congratulating them on their successful plan.

For the first time in years, Pepper decides to simply take the day to enjoy herself. Normally, she would maybe practice her letters or singing voice, trying her best to demolish the last bit of imperfection, but she simply doesn’t feel like boring herself with activities like that when she is already aware of her own value. And, yes, even though maybe there is a stubborn part of her that wants to prove Lady Killian wrong on her claims that she needs to try harder – Pepper certainly doesn’t need to. She is already the best the ton has to offer, as it has already been pointed out by Killian, and now, with this dramatic turn of events, a lot of gentlemen will feel the need to play the knight in shining armour, trying to offer her some real comfort after this scandal.

However, by midday Pepper encounters a problem she hadn’t really had before: something akin to boredom. Until now, she has always been a busy bee, keeping her body and mind busy for the eventual goal of becoming who she is today. And now… what is she supposed to do? Of course, she can read a book or create one of her imaginary problems to entertain herself, but after the excitement of the last few days, the prospect seems uninviting.

Luckily, she has a brother who has to make up for his past mistakes.

Pepper is lounging in the library, Salt on her lap and a book about art in her hands she is simply browsing through, when James stops by. “It has been quite some time since I saw you so relaxed,” he comments, leaning against the doorway. He is dressed to go out, though not fancy enough to merit a visit to the theatre.

“Well, it is the first time in a long while that I have the luxury to relax,” Pepper simply answers.

James snorts. “You must be bored already.”

“Out of my poor mind.” Her sigh gets drowned in James’ laughter. “And there are women who don’t even read! What are they doing all day long?”

“Fixing their coiffeur, I suppose.”

“My dear James, you shall be the last one to talk about one’s hair. We all know that in merely a few decades, you would be absolutely delighted to worry about any hair you might still have left.”

“Dear sister, if I’m being honest, I cannot wait for the day you marry and pester your husband with those barbs instead of me.”

“Oh, nonsense. You would miss me so terribly, you’ll be chasing after my carriage the second we leave the grounds.”

“If thinking that helps you with the goodbye, then keep thinking of it.”

Pepper chuckles. “Are you on your way to the club?” she asks, giving his attire a pointed look. “I don’t want to keep you. At least one of us shouldn’t be bored.”

James moves to turn around, but then he hesitates. Slowly, he turns back, looking at Pepper with something in his eyes she can’t quite place. It takes him a few more seconds to actually get the words out of his mouth. “Would you like to come with me?”

Immediately, Pepper sits up a bit straighter. “Are you suggesting to smuggle me into the club?”

“I’m not going to the club.”

“Maybe you should’ve mentioned that before.” James rolls his eyes, but isn’t withdrawing his offer. “Where are you going to, then?”

“I’m on my way to Stark. See what he has been up to when he isn’t at your side or hiding from mamas.”

From all the possible places he could go to, Pepper wasn’t expecting that. She blinks a couple of times. “You want me to go with you?” He nods. “I thought you don’t approve of Tony courting me.”

Grimacing – either because of her calling him Tony instead of Lord Stark or because of the duke fake-courting her – James sits down next to her. “I don’t. But if the last few days proved anything, it really isn’t my place to meddle with the entire business of finding your husband.”

“And all it took was me almost being forced into a marriage I didn’t want.” He makes a sound that is a cross between a cough and a snort. “You haven’t apologized for that yet, by the way.”

“I’m truly sorry for what happened, Pepper,” James immediately says, his voice and eyes sincere. “It was never my intention to make you unhappy, and from now on, I will only interfere with your search if you ask me to.”

A warmth spreads through Pepper’s chest and she reaches out to squeeze his hand. She has already forgiven him, and only mentioned the apology to tease him, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t appreciate it. “Are you supporting Tony courting me, then?”

He presses his lips together in a thin line, thinking about his next words carefully. “I still have my doubts about the sincerity of his intentions, for I know all too well that he doesn’t want to marry. But during the last few days, he proved that he cares about you. Whether that is romantically or not, is an entirely different question. If you truly consider him a candidate as your potential husband, then you should know all sides of him, even those he doesn’t let the rest of the world see.”

“You make it sound like he is an entirely different person,” Pepper says. She would be lying if she claimed she isn’t intrigued by his words. There have been rumours about the duke since before he became the duke, and she already noticed that the person Tony pretends to be around people and the one he is when they are promenading, away from the ears of the ton, are different. To hear that there is even more to this theory, enough that James thinks she should meet this version of him is definitely more interesting than the book she’s reading.

“Not entirely different,” he says with a laugh, “but different enough.”

“Good or bad different?”

“You have to be the judge of that.” He gets up, walking a few steps back to the door before turning towards her and raising a questioning eyebrow. “What will it be? Will you accompany me or pretend to be fascinated by a book you’ve already read?”

Pepper isn’t bothering to hide the smirk on her face. “Get the horses ready while I go change.”

When they were younger, Pepper and James used to have horse races all the time. Whenever they were at their house in the countryside, surrounded by wide, empty fields, and away from the judging eyes of the ton, they would race each other until their horses couldn’t keep up anymore. But once Pepper got to the age where she had to use a side saddle and wear a fancy dress, coat, and hat to ride, it wasn’t proper for ladies to participate in horse races anymore.

Which doesn’t mean they don’t race once they’re sure nobody is watching, taking full advantage of the empty fields around their country side home.  

Seeing that they have to cross half of London to visit Lady Carter’s estate where Tony is currently staying, they can’t race. Instead, they make conversation, keeping the barbs and jest under their breaths, knowing that people would twist their words around if they heard them; they will already be talking enough about the fact that they aren’t taking a carriage (sometimes, Pepper really does wonder if the upper part of society truly has no other worries but gossip about people taking a carriage or riding a horse). On their way, they pass a few gentlemen who try to strike up a conversation with her, but Pepper feels quite unmotivated to entertain more possible suitors, too curious about meeting the person James insists is a different Tony Stark.

When they reach the mansion, one of the servants greets them, already taking the reins of their horses to take care of them. “If you are looking for Lord Stark, he is in the smithery.”

“I didn’t expect anything else from him,” James answers, holding out a hand for Pepper to help her get off her horse.

“A smithery?” Pepper asks once they’re out of earshot. James took her hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow, leading her around the mansion towards the gardens. A part of her wonders how often he’d been here and why she never knew about it, because he’s moving around like he is very familiar with the place.

“Stark can’t keep his fingers still,” he says, not unkindly. “Lady Carter got tired of him taking apart her home, so she gave him a space he can destroy to his heart’s content.”

“Does he really destroy it?”

“More often than you think. But he also rebuilds it himself, so no one has any reason to complain.”

Pepper isn’t sure what she expected when James said smithery, but she surely wasn’t expecting the small house at the edge of the garden. It is bigger than the house Pepper lived in with her birth parents, and has a shed-like part to it which houses the smithery part of the smithery – there’s a large oven that is idly burning, tools in all shapes and sizes, a large anvil, and several barrels of water. The closer they get, the more Pepper can see the chaos, unable to tell what part of the mess is scraps and what Tony’s creations.

However, it does beg the question what is hidden in the rest of the house if this is already the smithery.

Once they’re close enough, they can hear voices and dogs barking through the door. “Are you certain about this?” James asks, his hand already raised.

Pepper raises an eyebrow. “You were the one who suggested this in the first place. Are you certain about this?” For a moment, it actually looks like James might turn around. Then, he knocks and without waiting for an answer, opens the door for them.

There is so much going on, that Pepper doesn’t know what to focus on first. To ease her into it, her mind makes her focus on the least chaotic things. It appears to be one large room, the walls hidden behind tall bookshelves that are filled to the brim with books, a sofa with a blanket in one corner, and the rest is occupied by several tables in different sizes. All of those tables are cluttered with… Pepper doesn’t know what exactly. She has never seen anything like it, except a few lightbulbs that lay around.

Two large dogs run towards James as soon as they enter, but they aren’t the only ones looking at them. Tony stopped mid-sentence, blinking in confusion, almost as if to make sure they’re actually there. He looks quite different than what Pepper is used to – his hair a mess, standing up in every direction, wearing simple breeches and a shirt that is stained with dark spots, its sleeves rolled up, not even wearing a vest or a cravat. The only thing familiar is the blue brooch. Next to him is a boy, not older than twelve, with brown curls and big, doe-y eyes.

James lets go of Pepper to kneel down and scratch the excited dogs behind their ears. “At least you seem happy to see me.”

“Because they can’t read letters that would usually announce guests,” Tony says, slowly breaking out of his stupor. “And you have been neglecting your responsibilities towards them.”

I have neglected them? Which one of us spent months away?”

“What are their names?” Pepper asks, interrupting Tony who looks like he could start a lengthy argument about this. The dogs noticed Pepper, now coming towards her, wagging their tails and sniffing the hand that she freed from a glove, holding out for them to explore. They seem gentle, though unaware of their size and strength, one of them almost knocking her over when the dog leans against her.

“Dominicus and Uther,” Tony answers.

Pepper raises an eyebrow. That answer was suspiciously quick. Besides, neither of the animals reacts to their names.

“Which they don’t listen to, because Stark waited weeks before giving them names,” James adds. “This is Domi,” the dog leaning against Pepper perks up, “and that is U.” The other one who enjoyed getting scratched behind his ears looks towards James.

“That sounds a lot like dummy and you,” she comments with a smirk.

Tony waves a hand through the air dismissively. “Whatever are you doing here? It is unusual for you to stop by without giving me at least a warning, so I can have tea and biscuits prepared. I remember how much you love those biscuits with cinnamon.”

“I have a few things with you to discuss,” James says as he stands back up, “and Pepper looked so bored, that I simply had to rescue her from it.” She throws his brother a glance that clearly tells him she isn’t appreciating his choice of words, but instead of correcting himself, James turns towards the boy who is still looking at them with big eyes. “You must be Peter. I’ve heard about you.”

The boy blinks twice before his face turns bright red, and he bows. “Yes, my lord! It is an honour to meet you, Viscount Rhodes.”

“Lord Rhodes is fine. And this is my sister, Virginia Potts.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Pepper says, doing a quick curtsy.

Peter mumbles the usual pleasantries, doing another – way too deep – bow, before he suddenly freezes, cocking his head to the side. “You are the lady Lord Stark is courting.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “And how do you know that?”

The boy actually rolls his eyes, something Pepper hasn’t expected from such a polite child. “I know how to read. My aunt likes to read Lady Whistledown just as much as Lady Carter. And I would have to be completely deaf to not hear all of the rumours.” Peter surprises Pepper once more by turning back to her, doing his best to keep his mouth in a straight line (he is failing at it), but there is a certain glimmer in his eyes that she has already seen in Tony’s eyes as well, even in James’. “My condolences.”

“Boy!” Tony chastises him, his protest almost getting drowned in James’ and Pepper’s laughter. Peter looks at least a little bit sheepish. “I do believe I enjoyed it more when you were too shy to even look in my direction.”

“Yesterday, you said something different.”

“Enough of it,” he says, doing a poor job at seeming bothered by all the teasing. “Rhodey, you want to have a word with me?”

“Yes, let’s talk outside.”

As they walk outside, Tony throws her a small smile, but she has barely time to return it before both of them are out of the door, followed by the dogs. Normally, Pepper would not quite be pleased about being left out of a conversation that is clearly partly about her, but the room bears many secrets to this other side of Tony, not to mention the boy.

“How do you and the duke know each other?” Pepper asks him, keeping her voice light.

Now that Tony is not here anymore, Peter seems to lose some of the confidence he possessed when he exchanged jests with him. His face reddens again and he seems to have trouble looking her in the eyes. “M-My aunt serves Lady Carter, and I live with her, Lady Potts.”

“It’s Miss Potts,” she corrects him with a smile on her face. “I am not married yet.” (It is a pity that she never will be Lady Potts, seeing as she will take her husband’s name – she quite likes the sound of it.)

“Miss Potts,” Peter repeats and the corner of his lips curl upwards. “Lord Stark noticed me taking an interest in his work after he came back from his travels. He gave me books to read, and taught me how to use his tools, and lets me come here once I’m finished with my duties.”

“He is teaching you?” Pepper is genuinely surprised by it, though she cannot say why. She never imagined Tony to be a teacher, he seems too chaotic and teasing to have the patience and gentleness necessary.

“Yes, my lady.”

“And he is teaching you about… this?” Walking closer to the tables, Pepper gently picks up one of the lightbulbs, careful not to damage them. They are a lot lighter than she expected, the thin glass beneath her fingertips quite fragile. “About,” what was it called again? “Electricity? And lightbulbs?”

“Way more than that, Lady Potts,” Peter says excitedly. Pepper doesn’t correct him – she has a feeling it wouldn’t stick anyway. “He taught me about lightbulbs months ago, and we are way past that. We are also building new inventions.”

“New inventions?” She looks over all these strange things that are filling the tables. Did Tony make them all? They don’t look like anything Pepper has ever seen, with copper wires curled around them, made out of dark metal and occasionally a few shiny pieces. She has not a single idea what they could be for or how they work. Peeking out from underneath his inventions are sketches for even more ideas, words in familiar letters scribbled at the side. If she isn’t mistaken, she sees something that looks like a carriage, but – according to the sketch – doesn’t need any horses and instead has an engine like a ship or train.

It is mind-boggling – who comes up with such moonstruck ideas? How is any of that ever to work?

“Yes. Lord Stark has many ideas.” To prove his point, Peter waves his arm towards the tables, showing off the inventions and ideas.

“Don’t be so modest, boy,” Tony suddenly says from behind them as he and James – and the dogs – re-enter the room. None of them looks hurt, so Pepper suspects the talk couldn’t have gone too bad. “You have just as many ideas. Maybe even more. Certainly, more brilliant than mine.”

Peter’s face turns as red as a tomato. “Your Grace, I’m not-”

“Yes, you are,” he says, not even entertaining the idea of anything else. “I know that because I have to answer all of your questions. I am certain, once you’re at Oxford, you will give those professors even more trouble than I did.”

James snorts, like the idea that anyone could give their old professors more trouble than Tony is ludicrous, but Peter mumbles something about Oxford Pepper can’t quite make out (by the sound of his tone, it’s some form of protest). Then, he straightens up, a thought striking through his mind. “I do have a question.”

“Then out with it, boy. You know what I always say, questions shouldn’t be kept silent, especially in here.”

For the third time in a shockingly short time, Peter surprises Pepper again by turning towards her and asking: “Lady Potts, how does a woman come to be with child?”

“Parker!” Tony barks, and it’s the first time Pepper sees him being somewhat embarrassed. However, she is too preoccupied with keeping the blush from spreading too much, to pay him (or James who stares at the boy with his mouth open) a lot of attention.

Peter looks quite innocently from Pepper to Tony. “You told me to ask questions if I have any.”

“Yes, but that question is… inappropriate to ask.”

“But shouldn’t Lady Potts know the answer? After all, she is a woman.”

In theory, Peter is right. As a woman, Pepper should know how a woman comes to be with child. However, Tony is also right; it is an inappropriate question to ask, especially around a woman, because it is a well-known secret that women usually know nothing about their wedding night or what happens between a man and a woman until it is actually happening.

Unless, of course, a woman grows up in a family that is considered improper by society, and who is very good at finding out secrets. And if that woman also shares those secrets with her dearest friend, well…

While the men are still very much uncomfortable with the boy asking questions they don’t want to answer in front of her, Pepper wills the redness on her face to disappear and pushes her chin forward, schooling her face into a blank mask. “Why do you assume I don’t know the answer to the question?”

Their heads snap to her so quick, Pepper actually worries that they might have hurt themselves. While James’ expression is similar to that of a fish on dry land – his mouth opening and closing without a single sound coming out of it – Tony looks at her with an expression she can’t quite name, but it makes her chest feel weird.

However, she is Virginia Pepper Potts, an honorary Rhodes, she is not about to be bested because of some weird feeling. Holding Tony’s eye contact until the last second, she turns to Peter with a smile. The boy looks more than confused. “You are right, Peter, as a woman, I do know how we come to be with child. But it seems my brother and the duke are quite uncomfortable with learning about it. Besides,” she lets her eyes drift back to Tony, a smirk on her face, “it seems like the good duke is quite excited to answer your questions himself.”

For a second, Tony looks absolutely flabbergasted before he mirrors her smirk. “Truth be told, I-”

“How?” James interrupts him, a bit too loudly. It seems he regained the ability to speak.

Pepper pretends she doesn’t know what he is asking. “How a child gets into a woman’s belly? Well,-”

“No,” he quickly says, looking more and more embarrassed with each passing second. Good. After the entire matter with Killian, she thinks she’s entitled to make him slightly uncomfortable for a little longer. “How do you know?”

“Like Peter said, as a woman I should know about it.”

“But who taught you about it?”

Pepper arches an eyebrow. “Who do you think?”

It takes James a second before the realization dawns on him. “Natasha.” It’s not a question.

“And Yelena,” she adds with a little nod. “Their parents seem to think they should be educated about such matters before they make their debut.”

James furrows his eyebrows together. The implication of her words isn’t lost on him. “You act as if it were my duty or even my decision. Besides, it is not proper.”

“Since when do you care about what is proper? Shall I remind you of the time you-”

“Hasn’t it been you who is so obsessed with appearing flawless?”

“I can feign ignorance of certain matters, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t know about them entirely.”

“As entertaining as this is,” Tony interrupts before another sound can get out of James’ mouth, “I do believe we should rather change the subject, lest someone dies because of babies. Peter, I will answer your questions when you’re older. No discussion about that,” he stresses as the boy looks like he is about to protest. With a pout, Peter closes his mouth soundly. “Now, should we take a stroll around the gardens? Lady Carter is quite proud of her flowers and the weather is lovely.”

If Pepper is being honest, she is more interested in learning about the inventions that are scattered around the tables than looking at flowers. Besides, thanks to a certain someone, she has enough flowers to look at at her home. However, Tony wasn’t really suggesting the stroll, he was announcing it, opening the door and waiting for them to leave, grabbing a coat and slipping his arms inside (still missing a cravat, leaving his neck exposed) to appear at least a little more presentable.

Pepper shouldn’t have been surprised by the chaos that unfolds in the first few minutes. The hounds seem to sense that everyone is about to go outside, and get so excited, their wagging tails almost knock over some of the inventions of the table. Peter is running around the room, looking for things he has misplaced, and needed to find now, and lastly, both Tony and James had to wrestle something out of U’s mouth that the dog simply didn’t want to surrender. It was an utter mess – and yet, she found it strangely endearing.

Once they’re outside, the situation calms down a bit as nothing delicate is in danger of being knocked over by the dogs anymore. The boy loses his last bit of shyness around them, starting to ask James questions about his days at Oxford – which James, of course, answers with all of Tony’s misadventures there. The duke does his best to save his reputation, but it is fruitless.

When they reach a lovely part of the garden that is decorated with the most beautiful flowers, their little group splits up naturally, with the dogs roaming around, and James and Peter being engaged in a conversation about mechanics Pepper knows too little about to really understand – but to her surprise, Tony doesn’t join them. Instead, he falls back with Pepper, creating a bit more distance between them to allow them to have a private conversation.

“How are you enjoying your wedding day, Miss Potts?” he asks in a teasing tone, offering her his elbow to grab.

She takes it without thinking about it, the smallest smile stealing itself on her face. “Quite different than I imagined.”

“Is your dress not white enough?”

“That, for one. And I’m missing a husband whose proposal I accepted.” Tony chuckles, and Pepper just knows he has another barb on the tip of his tongue – but if they continue like this, she will never get the answers she is burning for right now. “What did James tell you?”

“That he would challenge me to a duel if I ever hurt you.”

Pepper can only roll her eyes. What is it with her brother – or men in general – that they are so quick to challenge everyone to a duel? “Did he say anything interesting?”

“Oh my. Is the looming threat of my death not interesting enough for you?”

“Seeing as it would be deservingly so, I don’t consider it interesting.”

Tony only laughs at her sharp tongue. “He told me that he still doesn’t know what my true motive is, but he trust that I have no intention of harming you – or your reputation, for that matter – in any way. However, since those words were immediately followed by his threat, I don’t feel that much at ease.” This time, it’s Pepper who chuckles. “What made you come with him?”

“I was bored,” she answers truthfully. “James hasn’t been lying earlier, he did save me from a cruel, boring afternoon. He asked me if I wanted to join him, claiming that there is a different side of you that I need to see if our … courtship is truly serious.”

Tony pulls his eyebrows together in real confusion. “A different side of me? Whatever is he talking about? I am always me.”

Pepper hums as a way to give a vague answer. By now, she knows what James was talking about. This Tony right now is very different from the sharp-tongued, quick-witted man who creates grand schemes to escape unwanted attention of mamas and debutantes (and, most likely, to entertain himself during dull events), and who demands and wields attention the second he sets a foot into a room.

This Tony is… no, innocent isn’t quite the right word, because the sharp tongue and quick wit is still there, though with no ill intentions behind them. The way he is looking after the hounds, pretending to be annoyed and displeased with them, when he is clearly not, never declining their demands for attention and affection, scratching them behind their ears whenever he passes them. Or the way he treats Peter – well, the simple fact that he took Peter under his wing at all.

She would almost describe this Tony as soft. Or maybe even go as far as… loving.

“Tell me about the boy,” Pepper demands, eyes drawn to James and Peter as they both laugh ahead of them.

The duke nods; if he is confused by the sudden turn of conversation, he doesn’t show it. “What do you want to know?”

“How did this-” she makes a vague motion with her hand, trying to indicate the bond between them, “start?”

“The boy moved in with his aunt and uncle a few years ago after his parents died,” Tony starts to explain. “Unfortunately, tragedy seems to follow him around quite a bit. His uncle died less than a year ago, and Lady Carter offered his aunt that they can both live on the grounds, knowing they couldn’t make the payments otherwise. Mrs. Parker is a wonderful maid, as long as she is nowhere near the kitchen, and Peter helps in the stables.”

“Lady Carter has him work?”

Tony barks out a short laugh. “Oh, no. In fact, we all try to finally get him to stop working, but he is quite stubborn, saying he can help, so he will. After I came back from my travels from Europe, I saw him a few times, but didn’t pay him any real attention until I came back here from Hastings. He took an interest in my smithery and the inventions I keep there. So, I started to explain them to him, gave him books to read – and he devoured all of it, asking for new books faster than I could provide them. He is smart; smarter than a lot of people I met, and he is still a child. If given the right opportunities, I do believe Peter can change this world. For the better.”

Yes, loving is definitely the right word. The tone of his voice and the look in his eyes strengthens Pepper’s decision. “Is that why you want him to go to Oxford? To give him the right opportunities?”

“Partly. And because I know he will enjoy it.” Tony clicks his tongue in a displeased way. “As fascinating as all the knowledge that is gathered there is, I don’t agree with all of their rules. Admission to the school shouldn’t be tied to one’s money or status.”

“Or gender,” Pepper adds, not even trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

To her surprise, Tony looks at her, his expression solemn with not a single trace of mockery. “That as well. And even though my library isn’t as grand as the one at Oxford, you are more than welcome to read through every single book it contains. Though, I do have to warn you, it is quite science oriented.”

“Thank you,” she says, a warm feeling spreading out in her chest at the genuine offer. “However, I doubt I will understand much of what is written in them. My knowledge of science is quite limited.”

A charming smirk pulls at his lips that Pepper knows is more for show than anything else. “It would be my pleasure to explain them to you, Miss Potts.”

She challenges his smirk with a raised eyebrow, feeling more playful at his not-entirely innocent offer than she first expected. “Of course it would be your pleasure. You would hear yourself talk, and make yourself feel smarter by explaining it.”

Tony laughs loudly, catching the attention of the dogs. “Oh, you know me too well,” he still chuckles. “When did that happen?”

“Contrary to what you believe, you are not that difficult to predict. At least not when you aren’t trying to charm me.”

“Maybe I should start charming you, just to make it more difficult for you in the future.”

“It is far too late for that now, I’m afraid. I already know you.”

“But I do love a challenge.”

“Believe me when I say this, Your Grace, I am also very aware of that.”

Now, they both laugh softly, the light, playful atmosphere between them still lingering in the air. This is nice. The exchange of barbs reminds her of James, though they are different – yet she can’t explain why or how they’re different. But she likes how easy it is to talk to Tony, especially with this version of him that is so at ease, and with her not being afraid someone around them could watch them and start rumours.

(Already, there is a melancholic stab in her chest that this will come to an end once she is married and he moves back to Hastings. Maybe they could keep a correspondence through letters, though it wouldn’t be the same.)

They walk for a few paces in silence, wallowing in the sun, the warm weather, and the comfortable silence between them. “I didn’t know you were an inventor,” Pepper eventually says after they stopped so she could admire a bush of particularly beautiful flowers.

“Have I never mentioned it?” Tony asks, genuinely sounding surprised. She shakes her head. “Rhodey always claims I can talk about nothing besides my inventions.”

“What are they? Your inventions, I mean. However, I should most likely mention again,” she interrupts him before he can get a single word out of his already opened mouth, “that my knowledge about all of that is very limited. I thought the lightbulbs at Vauxhall were revolutionary, but your ward already enlightened me that they’re apparently not all that interesting.”

“They’re a start,” Tony says, almost sounding diplomatic, like he doesn’t want to insult her by pointing out the obvious – that she has no clue what is really revolutionary when it comes to science and what isn’t. The tone of his voice changes, from teasing and carefree to excited – strangely reminding her of the overexcited dogs not too long ago. Like he cannot wait to make whatever he is already envisioning in his mind. “But there is also so much more. Endless possibilities! And one new invention opens the door to ten more. There is no saying what we might achieve with it – we could be riding in carriages that drives themselves or fly through the sky in giant ships or even fly by ourselves, like birds, wearing special suits for it.”

Pepper blinks.

Carriages that drive themselves, without horses?

Flying through the air in ships? Or even like birds?

That sounds impossible, like the ideas that come out of a fever dream.

“Maybe you’re not really the genius people claim you are,” she slowly says, “but simply mad.”

He isn’t insulted by her words, but smirks. “You would be surprised how close those two lay next to each other. And sometimes, it takes someone mad to move forward. People would call Icarus mad, too.”

She isn’t impressed. “Icarus’ wings burned and he died.”

“Very well, I admit that might have not been my best example. But one has to think beyond what is known to create the future. To be a futurist.”

“Futurist?” Pepper asks, cocking her head to the side, letting the unfamiliar word role over her tongue.

“Yes, someone who thinks of the future or works towards the future.”

“I never heard that word before.”

“Of course not, I just invented it.”

Again, Pepper laughs. Laughing seems always so easy with him, like he has the strange ability to tickle those noises out of her, making her lose her composure when she is trying everything to hold on.

A part of her also wonders when it was the last time she laughed so much – a treacherous voice in the back of her head whispers that it had to have been around Tony as well. Quite quickly, she silences that voice.

“If you are done questioning me,” Tony eventually says, throwing her a curious glance and a smirk, “I have some questions for you as well.”

“More questions about how enjoy my wedding day? Or about how a lady comes to be with child?”

The smirk widens, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “That might be quite tempting, but no, nothing like that.” She gives him a little nod as a way to let him know that he can ask away. “Why do you like planning so much?”

Blinking in confusion, Pepper tries to figure out why he chose this question, but then she remembers their conversation in the library not too long ago, and the look in his eyes when James had mentioned her little pastime. “I suppose for the same reasons you like inventing.”

“But inventing is fun,” Tony stresses, giving her an exaggerated, pained look that had her smiling again. “Planning is one of the most tedious things I have to do.”

“It’s not tedious, it’s like a puzzle, or riddle, if you will,” Pepper explains, not nearly as offended by his words as she thinks she ought to be. “You have to twist and move things around until you find the perfect balance, and achieving that balance is so satisfying. But tell me,” she stops on the way, turning to face him, trying to keep her face straight as she sees him struggling to contain his own smile, “how do you see yourself running an estate, being responsible for your lands and the people living there, when you don’t like planning?”

She can see the shift in his eyes, even if the expression on his face stays the same. It is obviously an issue that nags him. “That is the entire reason I am here in London in the first place,” he says. “So Lady Carter can teach me how to plan and lead. However, maybe I should just hire you and have you manage everything. It would leave me enough time to invent all I want, and you could do what you love most.”

“Ah, yes, what a lovely idea.” Even though her voice is dripping in sarcasm, there is a small part of her thinking it actually is a lovely idea. Or at least not an unpleasant one. But she isn’t going to feed into his ego. “I am sure my husband and our children will be absolutely thrilled that I would be living in Hasting, instead of my home with them.”

“Well, if you would end up as a spinster, then-”

“I will not be a spinster,” she says determinedly. Ending up as a spinster – a woman who didn’t find a husband, one who ends up on the shelf, is past her prime age with merely 28 years, and who cannot be picky about suitors – is one of the worst fates a lady of the upper part of society can face (at least, in the condemning eyes of that society itself). Naturally, Pepper will do anything that she won’t end up as one. “I will marry at the end of the season. It will be the last and grandest event.”

The smile on Tony’s face turns real again. “Oh, you already got it planned?”

“Of course. I like planning. The only thing I need is a husband.”

With an amused huff, Tony turns back around, and Pepper follows suit, seeing as she is still holding on to his arm. “Then maybe I should ruin your reputation,” he ponders in a very light voice, making sure that she realizes he is merely jesting. “It would leave you with no other choice but to work for me.”

“Did you already forget the threats James made not too long ago? Or that I am very well acquainted with the Romanoff family?”

“Ah, yes. Your brother who is seemingly just waiting for a reason to shoot me, and the family that doesn’t shy away from murder.” He glances at her. “I do have to compliment you for finding such loyal friends and family.”

“I suppose you could send me letters from time to time,” Pepper chuckles, feeling strangely proud that he praised her family and friends. “To ask me for help or my opinion in those matters. If I am not too busy running my own household, that is.”

“Of course. I imagine you will be quite busy, planning the city’s most selected and desired social events. Hopefully, I will get an invite to them.”

“Only if you will actually attend, and not make up poor excuses why you can’t come.”

He gifts her another grin. “I have to point out once more that you know me too well.”

Pepper returns his grin, but doesn’t get a chance to answer with a jest herself as they reached the end of the little path through the flower garden, and at the end, James and Peter are already waiting with the dogs, as well as Lady Carter, who looks like she is taking great pleasure in making James uncomfortable. When the lady spots them, she starts smiling, looking almost proud.

“She likes you a lot,” Tony says almost under his breath. Pepper also notices that his posture changes, his back now straight, standing tall, head held high. Lady Carter does have that effect on almost all gentlemen – and the ones that are seemingly unaffected by her presence, soon learn to be affected through the use of her trusted cane.

“She does?” It surprises her. Pepper hasn’t really talked to the lady, except for the common pleasantries that are exchanged during social events.

“Oh, yes. I believe you remind her of herself.” He pauses. “She will be very angry with me when this courtship ends. I can already hear her complaining that I let you slip through my fingers or something along those lines.”

Pepper bites the inside of her lips to keep herself from laughing, now that they aren’t alone anymore. “You have my sympathies,” she whispers, keeping the polite smile on her face.

“I don’t believe you,” Tony whispers back, but then they already reached the end of the path, and Pepper has no chance to answer.

“My dearest Miss Potts,” Lady Carter greets her, and Pepper does a little curtsy. “It is such a pleasure and surprise to see you here. I have been waiting for you to come here, but no matter how many hints I’ve dropped for my nephew, he never invited you for a cup of tea.”

“You never dropped any hints,” Tony defends himself, but except for Peter’s chuckle, everyone ignores him.

“How fortunate that your brother has that fine head on his shoulders, and took matters in his own hands.”

“How fortunate indeed,” Pepper agrees, liking Lady Carter more and more with each second.

“Come here, my girl,” the lady requests, waving a hand over, and Pepper lets go of Tony’s arm to join her, “I have already called for tea and biscuits. Now, I do believe you owe me a scandalous story of your almost-marriage, since I didn’t have the pleasure to see it all unfold with my own eyes.”

Notes:

I really hope you enjoyed this, because this was the last bit of happiness and carefreeness they'll get for a while.

The next chapter will be quite angsty, but we'll finally find out how Pepper became Pepper!

(Also starting November, I'll get a second day off, so hopefully I'll find a bit more time to write. Keeping my fingers crossed.)

If you enjoyed this chapter, please leave me a comment and let me know! Reading those really motivates me to skip my nap and instead work on this fic!

Chapter 8: Pepper

Notes:

Hi everyone! :)

I'm back with a new chapter, and now we finally get the answer to the question of how Pepper became Pepper.

Thank you so much to ghostly-blues for beta-reading this!

Enjoy! :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

If anyone asked him, Tony would take the opportunity to loudly complain about going to all the social events Pepper has planned for them, all the balls and opera visits and galleries and promenading through the park and whatever else she deemed a good opportunity for people to see them.

However, no one asks him.

Naturally, that fact doesn’t stop Tony from complaining nonetheless. Loudly. But judging by the way James ignores his complaints, Lady Carter simply rolls her eyes, and even the Parker boy just smirks and asks if Lady Potts – no matter how often they correct him, he seems to stick to the wrong title – will be attending as well, no one believes him.

Which might be because it is a lie.

At least in part. The original reason why he is attending those events, to get to know the other lords and build relationships with them, is as dull as ever; but he does enjoy his charade with Pepper more and more.

They’ve already developed their own routine for all the different events: they always arrive separately but at the same time, making a small spectacle out of meeting there, seemingly by coincidence. At balls, Tony usually has the honour of her first dance, a little reward for his show of appearing displeased with other gentlemen asking to sign her dance card, and during the rest of the evening, they would only communicate through pointed looks, letting the other know when their respective conversation partner is boring. When they visit the opera or an art gallery, they walk around together for a bit before splitting up, maybe passing the other one when they feel like it. The only time they don’t part ways is when they promenade, but if Tony is being honest, it has more to do with the fact that they both get lost in their conversation.

And their ruse is working: the other day, two gentlemen proposed to Pepper, both of whom she declined, saying she hasn’t exchanged more than five sentences with them and she doesn’t believe they would grant her the freedoms she desires. As for Tony’s part of the bargain, the mamas of the ton have finally seemed to ease off of him, giving him a bit more space – however, since he hasn’t proposed to Pepper yet (something that comes up more and more in conversation with other people, and they do have to work on a believable excuse for his lack of action), there are still a few swarming around him.

But the most enjoyable part of the ruse isn’t that it is working, no, it is that he simply can spend time with Pepper. Tony feels like their friendship grows with every event they attend, especially after the entire ordeal with Killian and her visiting Lady Carter’s estate. He genuinely enjoys spending time with her: their conversations laced with all the barbs and jests, her opinions, especially those that differ from his own and she isn’t too coy to voice them, and the way they would confide in each other over their problems.

Pepper complains about her suitors, how none of them seem to be good enough for what she is looking for or simply if one of the gentlemen stepped on her toes too much during a dance, and Tony complains about learning how to run an estate instead of working in his smithery. In turn, Pepper takes the opportunity to find solutions for the problems he is describing, taking advantage of her liking (he still can’t fathom how she can like all of this) what he dreads so much, and Tony offers any information he has about the gentlemen she seems interested in, or simply lifts her mood with a few jokes.

It is quite enjoyable.

Which, of course, means fate – or maybe the vengeful spirit of the late duke – has to ruin it.

In his own – very humble – opinion, Tony has done well to pretend to be less than excited for tonight’s soiree, but judging by the way Lady Carter rolls her eyes and purses her lips, he isn’t fooling her. It has been a couple of days since he’s seen Pepper, due to a gallery opening that had been called off once the painter suddenly fell out of grace after a scandalous Lady Whistledown article. He can’t wait to see his friend again and hear about suitors and rejected proposals and the ridiculous gifts she is getting (though now that the florists have restocked their flowers, the gifts for her become less entertaining – at least for him). Besides, the other day Lady Carter had tasked him with a hypothetical problem to solve for Hastings, and Tony just knows Pepper would enjoy pondering over the solution – unlike Tony.

He enters the grand saloon with Lady Carter on his arm, her cane filling every young gentleman around them with fear with each of its clacks on the ground. The soiree is being held in honour of the first birthday of the heir of a baron who passed away only months after the birth due to his old age and therefore is a more private matter, meaning that not the entire ton is invited, only half of it. There’s a small orchestra, joined by London’s most promising young opera singer, and a few couples are dancing, though this event is made entirely for gossiping, matchmaking, and being seen.

Immediately, Tony’s eyes wander over the sea of people, looking for a particular shade of light, red hair.

“Why haven’t you proposed yet?”

Lady Carter’s words make him halt and snap his head towards her. However, she isn’t looking at him but rather at the other corner of the room, focused on the very person Tony has been trying to find. Pepper is standing with the Romanoff sisters, the three of them clearly the most beautiful debutantes in the room, effortlessly demanding the attention of pretty much everyone in the room, and yet Tony’s attention always drifts back to just one of them.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You have been courting her for weeks,” Lady Carter explains in a matter-of-fact voice. “Other men have been braver and proposed already, and Miss Potts isn’t going to wait for you to come to your senses forever.”

“Maybe I simply don’t wanna rush into it,” Tony says. There’s a swirl of emotions in his chest, a mixture of the pressure to come up with a believable lie, hurt pride that Lady Carter made a comment about other gentlemen being braver than him, and something he isn’t willing to name yet.

She sighs – the kind of sighs she always uses when she thinks he is behaving like a spoiled brat. “Boy,” oh, yes, she definitely doesn’t believe a single word he is uttering, “you have never not rushed into things. The good and the bad alike.”

“Then isn’t this a sign that my courtship is different than everything?”

“No, it’s a sign that you have a different goal in mind.”

Tony presses his lips together in a thin line. He doesn’t know how to answer her accusation – and it doesn’t make it easier that they’re surrounded by gossiping people who are too bored to mind their own business. Pepper turns her head a bit, sees them standing by the door, and smiles. Pulling his shoulders back, Tony clears his throat. “I don’t know what you are talking about. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to try my luck to ask Miss Potts to a dance, and leave you to torture other young bachelors – I know how much you enjoy it.”

Before he can hear her response, Tony lets go of her arm, and weaves his way through the swarm of people, trying his best to avoid any contact while they seem so eager to press against him. “Miss Potts,” he greets her as soon as he reaches their little group, giving her a small bow before turning to the other ladies. “Miss Romanoff. Miss Romanoff. What a delightful surprise to see you here.”

“Yes, what a surprise indeed,” the younger Miss Romanoff – Yelena, if Tony isn’t mistaken – says dryly. “It is such a rare occurrence that you attend one of these events when Pepper is present.”

“Don’t mind my sister, Your Grace,” the other Miss Romanoff says with a smile before taking her sister’s hand. “She is simply in a sour mood because they don’t have her favourite eclairs. But I’m sure she will cheer up once we find her something else to eat.”

“I don’t-” Her protests get cut short when the redheaded Romanoff throws her a pointed look. She sighs, but doesn’t protest as she gets dragged away by her sister, leaving him and Pepper alone.

A thought crosses Tony’s mind, and he leans down to Pepper, keeping his voice low. “Do they know?”

“I haven’t told them.” A pause. “However, that doesn’t mean they don’t know. They enjoy knowing secrets too much.”

“Well, as long as they don’t sabotage our plan.”

“Oh, they will. I’m just not sure in what way.”

They both chuckle at that, the sound slipping as easily over Tony’s lips as always. His eyes drift down to the dance card around her wrist, and he blinks in surprise. “It is already filled.”

Pepper looks at the card as well, seemingly needing a moment to figure out what he means. Then, she smirks proudly; Tony might actually call it smug. “It is indeed. Next time, Your Grace, you should maybe arrive on time if you still want to share a dance with me.”

“I had hoped that you would save me a spot nonetheless, seeing as it is already a tradition between us to share the first dance, but oh well.” He sighs, more theatrically than anything else, and his antics are rewarded with a roll of her eyes and a smirk that she is tries to hide. “It seems that I will have to find a different partner to converse with.”

“I am sure it will be quite unpleasant for you,” she says with no sympathy. Out of the corners of their eyes, they see a gentleman make his way over to Pepper who has already signed her dance card, no doubt to ask for a dance the orchestra is preparing for. She stands up a bit taller, lifting her chin, and turns that smirk into a polite smile – however, her voice is low when she talks, just loud enough for him to hear. “And if we have the chance to talk again later, we could discuss if the boy we’re celebrating today resembles the Lady’s footman more than his supposed father.”

Immediately, Tony’s eyes jump towards their host, and he can’t help but agree that the babe bears a striking resemblance to the footman standing not too far away from them who looks utterly uncomfortable. A wide grin stretches across his face. “Pepper! What a barb!”

She graces him with a short glance. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” And with those words, she leaves him alone, meeting the gentleman, and exchanging a few words before he escorts her towards the dance floor. Still with a smile on his lips, Tony looks around the room once more, trying to find other Lords to talk to.

For a while, he talks to James, reminiscing about their old days at Oxford, trading barbs and jests as easily as ever before James leaves his side after a pointed glance from his mother – no doubt being forced to talk to some debutantes himself as well. Tony manages to slip through the fingers of eager mamas who still believe they could entice him to meet their daughters before finding a few lords that possess lands relatively close to Hastings.

If he’s being quite honest, he doesn’t have a bad time. In truth, it’s the opposite. His spirits are high, he has some very interesting conversations, laughs a few times with a lord who is a genuinely nice fella on top of being a good potential ally for any future estate problems. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Pepper a few times, talking to suitors or whispering with one of the Romanoff sisters. The music is pleasant, the food is delicious, and the company is amusing.

Everything seems like a perfectly fine evening.

Until it isn’t anymore.

Tony is in the middle of listening to a humorous tale when a dark pit opens in the depth of his stomach, sucking the warm, buzzing, content feeling out of every pore of his body, leaving him cold and hollow. However, the hollowness doesn’t last long – a choking, all-consuming panic settles inside him instead.

Suddenly, everything is too much.

The air is too muggy and stiff, not allowing him to fill his screaming lungs with any air.

There are too many people.

Everything – the music, the singing, the laughter, even the scandalous whispers – are too loud, piercing through his skull.

The lights from the candles and chandeliers are too bright, as are the colourful dresses of all the ladies around him.

He feels invisible hands grabbing him; grabbing his clothes, trying to tear them off in search for something valuable, a burning pain in his chest, and raw fear.

Before he is completely aware of it, Tony is fleeing. He doesn’t even bother with a good excuse – which will no doubt lead to less-than-pleasant rumours about him and his rudeness, but he doesn’t (cannot) care about it – he simply turns around and leaves. Bodies are pressing against him, as if the entire room decided to keep him in here. With pointed elbows, a racing heart, and the unshakable knowledge the pain will follow if he stays, Tony fights his way out of the packed room.

His feet don’t stop, carrying him through corridors that slowly grow more and more deserted. It is as if his body suddenly has a mind of its own, taking over now that his own mind can’t do anything but spin more and more deeply frightening images – some memories, some pure fiction of his mind, but none any less bone-chilling.

As soon as Tony escapes the mansion, bursting out into a tucked away alcove near the garden, he takes big gulps of cold air, acting like a drowning man who just broke through the surface of the water. He half realises that his legs give out under him, making him slump onto a stone bench. Pressing himself against the chilling stonewall and squeezing his eyes shut, shrouded in darkness, he tries to fight this attack on his mind and body.

Tony is reluctant to admit that this has not been the first occasion that his body has suddenly betrayed him like this, making him feel like he has to fight for his life while being entirely safe. Ever since he woke up in Yinsen’s cot, these sudden, unyielding bouts of panic have been a new constant in his life. He hasn’t figured out yet what causes them, for they happen at the most peculiar of times; when he is about to fall asleep, when he is working in the smithery, when he is taking the hounds for a walk, when he is explaining something to Peter, when he is having dinner with Lady Carter, when he is joking with James at the club, when he is sitting in the opera, when he is visiting soirees – no matter the time, place, or company, the panic finds him, and aims to squelch him, leaving him tired and shaking and feeling oh so vulnerable.

Taking deep breaths, Tony tries to fight the panic, tries to push it away and find reasons that there is nothing he should be afraid of. There is no hole the size of a bullet in his chest. There is no one robbing him who has no qualms about leaving him in the dirt to die.

He is safe.

And yet his mind doesn’t seem to think so. No matter how much he fights that irrational fear, it just pushes back harder, clawing at every single pore of his being, and ripping him open, replacing everything that makes him him with this paralyzing panic, this somehow absolutely certain knowledge that he is going to die in the next few moments.

There’s a voice, clear enough that a part of him realizes that someone must have followed him. They’re saying his name, but Tony feels too detached from the world around him to react to it.

His chest starts to burn, and he swears he feels another bullet buried in his body, can feel the cold metal, the biting pain. He gasps for more air, but no matter how quickly he takes the next – too shallow – breath, it is not enough.

Suddenly, something touches his shoulder, and he violently flinches away from it, putting as much distance between it as Tony can manage. It’s too much, burning and clawing at him in a way the phantom hands can’t because he somewhat registered that the touch was real. Which means that the someone who was with him knows, someone is witnessing this moment of weakness and panic – someone is completely able to take advantage of him.

The never-healing hole in his chest hurts.

“Tony,” the voice says again, and miraculously, a tiny part of Tony’s mind manages to latch onto it, clinging to it like a life belt as he tries to claw his way out of this misery, pushing through the ocean of panic inside him. The voice sounds urgent but calm, almost patient. “Tony, breathe.”

He doesn’t even attempt to argue that he is breathing, because he clearly isn’t. However, the voice keeps urging him on, reminding him again and again to swallow some of the air his lungs are so desperate for, and even though his mind is still a tangled mess, his body seems to follow the command.

After a few shaky breaths that aren’t enough to calm the storm inside him, the touch is back, but it’s different. First of all, they aren’t touching his shoulder, but cupping one cheek. He feels warm skin, almost comforting against his own clammy, too hot skin. There’s no pressure behind it, the touch as light as a feather, seemingly only there to remind him that he isn’t alone, and not to hurt him.

“Breathe,” they demand again, voice warm and soft and with a lingering promise that they won’t leave.

Tony takes a breath.

Finally, air fills his lungs, and with each big gulp he takes, it pushes away the panic out of his body.

Time passes – if moments or an eternity, Tony can’t say – and eventually, the fear is gone, leaving him shaking and exhausted and feeling somewhat cold if it weren’t for the hand against his cheek.

When he finally opens his eyes, he isn’t surprised to see Pepper kneeling before him. His muddled brain had somehow figured out that it was her who came to his aid as soon as the panic wasn’t choking him anymore. After all, he’s heard enough of her demands to behave to recognize her voice when she told him to breathe.

What does surprise him, however, is the look on her face, full of concern and something he can’t name. And how close she is. Close enough that he can count all of her lashes, that he can see the freckles peppered across her face that she tries to hide with powder. Her hand is still against his face, and with something that feels like a skip of his heart, he realizes that she took off her gloves to touch him. It shouldn’t be important, but somehow it feels like it is, because it is the first time he really feels the heat of her skin without any piece of fabric between them. Tony can’t quite say why that fact unsettles him so much (or perhaps he doesn’t want to understand), but at the very least the revelation takes his mind off the lingering rest of the panic.

“Pepper,” he breathes out, quite sure that she only catches her own name because she is so close to him.

Her eyes – full of concern – jump all over his face, searching for something. Slowly, her mouth opens and closes again, though no sound comes out. Tony is overly aware of the smooth skin of her palm against his cheek, wondering if the scruff of his goatee is unpleasant for her. Or if she realizes that her thumb is stroking across his skin.

“Are you alright?” she asks, voice low.

For a mere second, he thinks about playing everything off, pretending he hadn’t been convinced he was about to die a few minutes ago, that this bone-deep fear hadn’t just bested him in such an absolute way. However, Tony knows it would be futile – Pepper is always able to tell when he is lying, and with no small amount of embarrassment, he has to confess that his behaviour had been too strange and concerning to play off as nothing.

A diversion, then.

“Pepper,” he says, the word stumbling out of his mouth.

“Yes,” she says, leaning back a bit, her gaze turning even more concerned, probably wondering if he hit his head, “I’m here.”

“No. That’s where your name comes from. From pepper.”

“Pepper,” she repeats, blinking in confusion. Slowly, she leans back and withdraws her hand from his face. Immediately, Tony notices the rush of cold air against his skin, doing his best to suppress the shiver climbing up his spine. “Pepper like… like the spice? Like salt?”

“Yes.”

A thousand questions must be stumbling through her mind. The one she settles on is: “Why?”

“Because you decided to add a bit more seasoning to my dessert.”

If the situation had been any different, Tony would’ve smirked at Pepper’s utterly shocked expression, eyes wide and her mouth agape. No doubt is she trying to remember that moment of her being anything but a perfect and forthcoming host. “I did not,” she eventually says, half a statement and half a question.

“You did.”

“I would never-”

“Apparently, you would.”

“But why would I-”

“Because I deserved it.”

Slowly, half of a smile steals itself onto Tony’s face, and while it’s not yet his usual smirk, it makes him feel more like himself again. He pats the bench next to him, silently asking her to join him. Pepper’s eyes flicker from his face to the stone bench, and for a fraction of a heartbeat, he thinks she might reject his offer. There are a million reasons why she shouldn’t sit here with him and should go back instead – however, that moment passes, and then curiosity mingles with the shock in her eyes as she sits down, all but strangling the gloves in her hand.

“As you know, the late Lord Rhodes and Lady Rhodes invited Lady Carter and me to dinner some ages ago,” Tony starts. “James told me you don’t remember the evening.”

“I don’t remember a lot from my first few weeks with them,” Pepper says, and there is a kind of longing in her voice that he hears and makes a mental note to ask her about some other time.

“Lady Carter arranged that dinner so I could practice. As difficult as it may be to imagine now, I wasn’t always the social butterfly I am now.” Pepper snorts softly, the kind that is completely unbecoming for a young debutante and that he only ever hears from her when they are alone. “However, that night was important to me, and I was on my best behaviour.”

Immediately, a look of doubt passes across her face, and she raises a delicate eyebrow. “If you’d been on your best behaviour, I strongly doubt I would have seasoned your food.”

“Patience, Miss Potts, is a virtue that is highly recommended for young debutantes.”

“You praise patience as a virtue? Are those words really coming out of your mouth? It does seem rather hypocritical to me.”

“Would you like to hear the rest of the story? Or would you rather continue insulting me?” He is quite certain there’s another barb on her tongue, but her curiosity seems to win once again as she only rolls her eyes, and waves her hand in a way that is clearly an invitation for him to continue. “As I was saying, I was on my best behaviour, which I got quite some praise on. And even back then, praise always went straight to my head, and it made me…” he searches for a more flattering word than rude, “bolder. Which led me to start to tease. Fortunately for my health, Lady Carter didn’t have her cane back then, and I was already able to disguise my jests in clever ways. The only one who noticed those barbs was the person they were directed at.”

“Me,” Pepper fills in, her voice strangely neutral.

Tony throws her a somewhat apologetic look. “Yes. I saw a young girl who was too timid to look anyone in the eyes, who kept her head down and barely talked, and who jumped up and acted as a servant whenever one was needed; an easy prey.”

“Such a gentleman,” she says, and this time the sharpness in her voice is as clear as the day. “Picking on younger, defenceless girls. It is no wonder that the mamas of the ton would love you to be their son-in-law.”

“Younger indeed, but far from defenceless.” A smirk steals itself on his face. Tony could swear his throat starts to burn again just thinking back to the evening. “You’d kept quiet and appeared completely unbothered, except for the occasional dark glares you threw me when you thought I wouldn’t notice. But then it was time for dessert, and as you did with all the other courses, you helped bring in the food. Put the plate right in front of me without so much as a smirk. I saw the dark, tiny sprinkles on the cream, but I didn’t think much of it since we’d just talked about how the Rhodes’ cook had received a new delivery of the best vanilla beans money could buy in London. So, I heaved as much as I could of it on my spoon and shoved it all in my mouth.”

“It wasn’t vanilla,” she concludes, biting her lip to keep her smile from her face. It doesn’t work that well. Her eyes all but sparkle with equal parts joy and mischief, and the expression makes her look younger, more carefree – it is a good look on her, Tony decides; even if it’s founded in his own discomfort.

“No, it was not. My throat started to burn and I barely managed to stutter the word pepper before drowning all of my goblet. You, on the other hand, looked very smug as you ate your dessert, which I am sure had a lovely vanilla taste.”

“Well, it really does sound like you deserved it,” Pepper comments. The horror and embarrassment from a few moments ago had completely vanished from her face – truth to be told, she almost looks proud of herself.

“And you thought the name came from freckles,” Tony jests, and to his surprise, she simply laughs. He joins her before he even knows what is happening.

When the laughter ebbs away, they sit next to each other in comfortable silence. The only sounds around them are the dimmed music, the murmur of conversation, and occasional boisterous laugh from inside finding their way to them through opened windows, and the gentle rustling of the trees around them. Even though it has been a warm day, there’s a light chill in the air tonight that he more than welcomes right now, cooling his still too-warm skin.

To his mild surprise, Tony notices that the empty, cold feeling the panic left him with is all gone, that the bone-deep tiredness retreated to a tingling calmness that keeps him still but doesn’t dull his senses. He feels… normal. Relaxed. At peace. Like himself. Which is odd, because it usually takes him much longer to reach this calmness.

There is the obvious answer to this weirdness in the shape of a young debutante sitting right next to him, which Tony pointedly ignores, of course.

However, the comfortable calmness between them is short-lived as the unspoken question spreads between them.

It doesn’t remain unspoken for long, though, because Pepper isn’t afraid to speak her mind around him.

“Tony,” Pepper begins slowly, and he is somehow reminded of someone approaching a hurt animal. “Are you… are you well?”

Deflecting is most likely pointless. But that isn’t stopping him from trying. With a smile that is nothing more but a farce, he turns to her. “I’m always well in your company.”

She doesn’t believe him. If he is being truthful, he would have been shocked and a bit disappointed if she did believe him. “Shall I repeat my question and have you try again? With the truth this time, perhaps?”

“Do you know what the true definition of madness is? Repeating the same action and expecting a different result.”

“Tony,” she says, her voice coloured with a certain sharpness that allows no room for jests, “I saw you.” A shiver of the unpleasant kind of variety runs down his spine, and his feet itch, almost urging him to jump up and flee. “You looked like…”

He bites down on his lips to keep the words from spilling over; like I was expecting someone to kill me.

Pepper presses her lips together, seemingly unsatisfied with her inability to find the right words. When she does continue, her voice is softer. “You looked afraid.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Can’t you be honest with me? Just once?”

“I’ve always been honest with you, Pepper,” he immediately replies; or rather, he immediately lies. It is not entirely the truth, he knows that. For example, he did lie about his nightly encounter with Killian – which now seems to have been an eternity ago – but it is true that he’s been more honest with her than anyone else.

She narrows her eyes. “Don’t you trust me, then?”

“Of course I do-”

“Then let me help.” The sharpness and softness from before have been replaced by an urgency and a hint of frustration. “I don’t like to see my friends in pain, and I want to be able to help when it happens again.”

“How can you be so certain it will happen again?”

“Because you looked afraid, but not surprised. You knew what to do. It clearly wasn’t the first time, and I doubt you expect this to be the last time either.”

Her assessment stuns Tony into silence. Pepper said she saw him, but he hadn’t realized that she paid this much attention. He thought she saw him flee the room and got curious. Suddenly, his mouth is dry, and his palms turn sweaty again. The panic starts to linger at the edge of his consciousness, not attacking him, but simply there, reminding him of the looming threat. He doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want to admit that weakness to her – to anyone, really – but he also knows that Pepper won’t let this go.

Steeling his spine, and shrugging in a way that hopefully seems nonchalant, he answers, “I was simply remembering something. No need to be concerned.”

“Remembering what?”

This time, he stays silent, determined to not give in. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Pepper studying him, waiting for an answer or any reaction, but when he gives her neither, she faces the garden in front of them.

Tony really should have known that she doesn’t give up that easily.

“I came to the Rhodes family because my parents died,” she starts after a moment, her voice light, no trace of any lingering pain from that memory. Tony knows that, of course, James had told him the reason why Pepper became part of his family often enough, but he doesn’t interrupt her. “They grew ill quite quickly, taking huge strides towards death with every passing hour. One day, I went out to fetch some food from our neighbour who was kind enough to help us during that time, and when I returned, I found them dead in their bed, looking like they were merely sleeping.”

He stares at her. James had never mentioned that particular detail. He wonders if his friend even knows about it.

Pepper continues, still not looking at him. “For the first few months after that, I always got overwhelmed by a strange sort of panic when I saw someone rest, fearing that they might have passed away as well. More than once, I woke James up when I found him hiding and napping somewhere, fearing that he might have died just like my parents.” She pauses. “Sometimes, I am still overcome with that fear when I see the people I care about resting their eyes. Laying there, not moving, looking so much like they passed away as well. No matter how often they prove to me that they are very much alive, there is always that lingering moment that they’re… not.”

“Are you embarrassed by it?” Tony asks softly. To his own surprise, his voice is free of judgement, which he is grateful for, because he truly isn’t judging her, simply wondering if they really feel the same thing.

She tilts her head to the side, thinking about it for a moment. “I was, and I suppose I still am sometimes. However, one’s mind is a miraculous thing, is it not? It can come up with the most fantastical ideas, like carriages that move by themselves,” she gives him a pointed look, accompanied by a small smile, “or remember everything one has ever read. Perhaps remembering those tragic moments in one’s life is simply the mind’s way of preparing us for tragedy. Or the payment for all the greatness it comes up with.” Pepper sounds almost blasé about the entire thing, like being haunted by the thought of her loved ones dying is simply a minor inconvenience in her life. On the other hand, she seems to have had a lot more time dealing with said matter than Tony.

The words sit on the tip of his tongue; he can feel them, ready to burst out of his mouth. His heart, beating way too fast to be considered healthy, has quite a different opinion on the matter of sharing his secret. Tony looks back towards the garden, his jaw set. Pepper isn’t pushing him anymore, simply waiting, and a part of him believes that she would drop the matter if he asked her to – but she shared her demon with him.

And maybe, after all these months of being plagued by nightmares and haunting panic, he just wants to tell someone about it. What better place to spill those secrets than in a dark alcove, with only his friend and the moon as his witnesses.

“You are aware that I toured through Europe,” Tony softly begins. His hands grip the bench he is sitting on, his knuckles already white. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Pepper turning towards him, but he keeps his face straight. She nods once. “I didn’t exactly plan to return just yet. In fact, I had planned to travel to Asia and spend as many years as I could there; and more importantly, away from Hastings. But fate had different plans for me.”

“What happened?” Pepper asks softly, calmly, as he doesn’t continue.

The old wound in his chest starts to ache. He feels hands grabbing and pulling him, feet kicking him.

Tony takes a deep breath before he continues. “I was travelling by myself, as I always did, right through the middle of some deserted place, when I got attacked. I can’t say if the attackers knew who I was or if they just assumed I had valuables with me because of my expensive clothes, but they shot me in the chest, took everything from my body and my horse that they could grab, and left me there to die.”

He expected a reaction from her, maybe a shocked gasp – though nothing as dramatic as a fainting swoon – but she stays silent, her body completely still, eyes watching him.

A soft breeze caresses them as Tony tries to order his thoughts and feelings again to continue. “Fortunately for me, I was found by a man who lived in that isolated place. He was a former doctor, took me to his home, pulled the bullet out of me, and nursed me back to health.”

“What was his name?”

“Yinsen. His name was Yinsen.” Tony makes a point of remembering Yinsen, his face, his voice, his mannerism, in a way to honour him. The haunting thought that one day, he will forget about Yinsen, sends an unpleasant shiver through his entire body. There are several attempts of portraits of the man shoved in his desk drawer, but there’s a reason why Tony isn’t a painter. Almost out of its own will, his hand reaches up and touches the brooch pinned to his vest, fingers running over the smooth silver and the slightly edged stones. “He had a beautiful geode, shining in shades of blue that rivalled the most breath-taking seas and skies. It was sent to me as a gift after he passed away, though it did arrive in pieces.”

“I had been wondering about it,” Pepper says, clearly putting together the connection between his words and the piece of jewellery. “I have never seen you without it.”

Out of an impulse he has never felt before, one he can’t even explain, Tony unfastens the brooch and hands it to Pepper, who takes it with careful fingers. She holds it further into the moonlight to have a better look, turning it slightly in every direction, marvelling at how the light catches the stones. “It is quite stunning,” she praises, “and masterly crafted. Who made it?”

“I did,” he says, finally looking at her as she blinks at him in surprise. These days, it isn’t often that Tony catches her off-guard, since she has long become used to his antics, so he usually marvels in it when he does manage to surprise her – but now, he feels quite anxious.

Pepper is still looking at him with big eyes, and in this light, her eyes shine almost the same shade as the geode. A fleeting thought crosses his mind that Tony should gather the rest of the shards and make a piece of jewellery for her out of them. Maybe a necklace or some earrings. She would look lovely with them. However, as fast as that thought appears in his mind, it is already gone.

“I don’t know why I am so surprised by that,” she eventually says with a soft smile as she hands the brooch back. “You are clearly talented with your hands.” Tony could make an inappropriate jest about her words, but he is certain it would ruin the atmosphere between them – and he doesn’t want that. Instead, he takes it back with a small nod, and pins it back to his vest at its usual place directly above his scar. A part of him wonders if Pepper also made the connection between the fixed placement of the brooch and where the bullet entered his chest. “How did you make your journey back to England if you had been robbed?”

“Miraculously, the thieves didn’t take my horse. Yinsen offered me some coins for the way, but I refused. I remembered the precise route I took on my way there, and considering how much money I spent at each establishment, they were all willing to allow me to stay there for the night free of charge. Whenever I had to stop somewhere I had not been before, I offered to exchange my talented hands for a place to sleep and a bowl of warm soup or some bread, helping them fix broken furniture and the like. Finding my way on the ship to England was a bit more challenging, but a couple recognized me and offered to pay the fee for me. Once I was back on land, there were enough people willing to help me once I told them where I was headed and promised they would be compensated for their troubles.”

Something lifts off his chest that has been sitting there for what feels like an eternity. Lady Carter and James had often tried to prod the story of his return to England out of him – both in gentle and not-so-gentle manners – but Tony had stayed silent, an unknown urge keeping his mouth shut, making him swallowing down the words that so often sat at the tip of his tongue. A few times, he had tried to write it down, but every page stayed disappointingly blank while he dealt with the overwhelming memories. Pepper is the first one to hear the story. It makes him feel strangely vulnerable, yet he is quite relieved that someone just knows.

She doesn’t say anything, most likely still trying to work through everything he had just revealed to her. But then, Pepper reaches out, slowly, tentatively, and places her own hand over his own so tightly gripping the bench as if he’s trying to break it. Her skin is warm and soft, so very different from his hands, marked with callouses from his work in the smithery. Tony can feel her eyes burning into the side of his face, but he still faces forward – he has a feeling he might do something foolish if he looks at her now.

She squeezes his hand just a bit, a gesture that could have been missed if he hadn’t been so aware about, well… everything. “You didn’t deserve to have something like that happen to you, Tony.”

He is so surprised by her statement, by the softness and kindness of her words, by the sudden surge of emotions that swell up in his chest – too entangled and too many and too strong to identify them – that he whips his head around, staring at her with wide eyes. There’s the ghost of a smile on her lips, eyes soft and yet determined, stubbornly unwilling to accept or even listen to any other opinion on that matter than her own.

For a fleeting moment, Tony wants to lean forward and press a chaste kiss against her lips.

There is nothing impure to that thought; yes, she is obviously beautiful, and had they met under any other circumstances, he would have done his best to woo her and convince her to spend a scandalous night – or maybe even a few more – with him. But that urge swelling up inside him has nothing to do with lust or entertainment, it is a way to express everything that he is feeling right now, and the only proper way to show it seems to be through a kiss.

However, the thought vanishes from his head as soon as it appears. Tony knows Pepper would be cross with him if he followed that urge. Instead, he gives her a sharp nod, for he is feeling uncharacteristically tongue-tied.

She gives his hand another squeeze. “Tell me how I can help if it happens again.” Once more, her voice doesn’t leave any room for arguments. “Tell me what to avoid.”

“Being touched is making it worse.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets it, even though it is the truth. Immediately, Pepper pulls her hand away as if she has been burned, cradling it in her lap, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I apologize,” she swiftly says, voice full of displeasure. “I didn’t mean to- … I was not aware-“

“There is nothing to forgive, Pepper,” he interrupts her. “As you said, you weren’t aware of it. And you were able to help me.” He pauses. “Thank you. For helping me. I believe I haven’t actually thanked you yet for it.”

“Of course,” she answers at once, her rigid posture relaxing just a fraction. Then, a smile tugs at her lips, a tentative try to ease the tension between them. “In truth, my evening had been quite boring. It was a welcoming turn of events.”

Tony snorts. There are a million barbs on his tongue, some sharper than others, but he does appreciate her effort at a jest. “I am glad I could be of service then. However, I do believe I saw you conversing with Captain Wilson. I was under the impression that you two get along quite well.”

Captain Samuel Wilson might not hold a title, but Tony knows he is quite high on Pepper’s list of potential husbands. Even without a title or land, Captain Wilson is highly regarded throughout London’s society; all of Britain’s society, truth to be told. He climbed through the ranks of the army quite fast, he is charismatic, handsome, respected, and as far as Tony can tell, Wilson’s pride isn’t so frail that he wouldn’t allow Pepper the freedoms she so desperately seeks. They would make a lovely couple, and every time he catches a glimpse of them conversing or dancing, they seem to enjoy each other’s company, looking like true friends. Plenty of marriages have been built on less.

To his surprise, Pepper doesn’t engage in the barb, her expression turning sober. “We are. But if I have to choose between helping a friend and entertaining a suitor, I will always pick my friend.”

Once again, the whirlwind of emotions inside Tony’s chest makes him choke in a way that is quite different from the anxiety-induced choking a little while ago. Warmth spreads across his face, and he is thankful for the cloud that is passing by the moon at this moment, hopefully keeping Pepper from seeing him blush. “Pepper…” He doesn’t end that sentence, for he has no inkling what he even wants to say.

However, she only shakes her head, giving him a gentle smile and reaching out to briefly squeeze his hand again. “Enough of this. No more expressions of gratitude that aren’t necessary.”

“I don’t believe the manners Lady Carter has drilled in me will allow that.”

“Yet you are always so determined to ignore them. But if it eases your mind, I already accepted your gratitude, there is no need for more of it. Besides,” she says, gracefully standing up from the bench, smoothing out her dress in a practiced motion, before giving him another smile. Tony can only stare at her, drinking in everything he’s seeing like a parched man, “you would have done the same for me, I am sure of it.”

He would have, of course, there is no question about it.

“Take all the time you need to collect yourself,” Pepper instructs him, her usual aura of command back. “I shall discretely inform Lady Carter that you weren’t feeling well and left. However, I do need to get back, or else someone might be looking for me, and I don’t see how another scandal would help this charade.”

“I am sure we would come up with something,” Tony says. Should they be caught out here, together and alone, society will most likely press them to be wed within a week, no matter what actually happened between them. Not that anything happened that would justify a scandal, except for Tony’s own demons.

(There is a whisper at the back of his mind, telling him in hushed words that having to marry Pepper might not be as terrible as he tries to convince himself it would be.)

Gracing him with one last smile, Pepper heads back inside, maybe to find Captain Wilson again or dance with one of the suitors that signed her dance card. Tony is left alone, and he feels himself slumping against the cold stone, feeling both tired and wide awake.

The idea of Pepper being wooed by her future husband right this moment leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. It is almost enough to make him forget about his panic and force him back inside.

Almost.

His hand, the one she had grabbed and therefore had tethered him back to reality with, tingles.

Notes:

I thought a lot about the origin of Pepper's nickname in this AU, and I still wanted it to have some connection to the pepper spray incidence, so... this happened. I actually quite like it.

Their conversation and interaction was mostly inspired from the scene in IM1 where Pepper takes out Tony's arc reactor (Tony handing her the brooch) and the scene in IM3 where Tony admits he's a hot mess and not doing so well (Tony opening up about why he returned).

Also, side note: I totally think that Pepper would choose Sam as her husband in this AU, I think they would work quite well together.
...
...
...
Unless a different suitor will show up who tries to get her attention??? *foreshadowing noises*

As always, I would love to hear what you thought about this chapter :) Reading your comments always makes my day a bit brighter :)

Chapter 9: The Prince

Notes:

Hello my friends! :)

I know it has been a hot minute since I updated, but I actually worked a lot on this fic! I'm almost done with chapter 12 (minus all the editing), and once I finish the last chapter, they will definitely come quicker. Can't promise how long it will take, but hopefully I'll get it done in the next two, maybe three weeks (this does sound like the famous last words, doesn't it?).

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! :) We will get a bit closer to the original Bridgerton story line, so maybe some of you have an inkling what is about to happen ;)

This chapter is un-beta'd, so even though I tried my best, I most likely missed some of the mistakes. Sorry for that.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Pepper has rejected five proposals, and she feels quite proud of it, which is a fact she only shares with Tony for everyone else would most likely chastise her for it. Except, perhaps, Natasha and Yelena. However, they do have that amusing but improper habit of encouraging inappropriate behaviour. Not that Tony doesn’t encourage such behaviour as well, but he is easier to ignore than the two ladies.

Well… that’s not entirely true. At least, in parts.

Oh, it is still easy to hold her tongue when he makes quips and barbs that aren’t that suitable for a young, innocent debutante in her first season (though it does get worryingly more and more difficult to hide the upwards twitch of her lips. Fortunately, fans are an essential and fashionable accessory for women, and no one bats an eye when she hides her smile behind it). Even though Tony enjoys pushing her, reeling her up, and trying to make her slip up, he also knows when he needs to stop unless he wants to sincerely upset or embarrass her. It usually doesn’t take more than a hard stare through narrowed eyes or a somewhat aggressive flick of her fan, and he smoothly changes the topic of their conversation to something more suitable.

But ignoring Tony himself gets more and more difficult.

Even when they aren’t at a social event or promenading, Pepper finds that her thoughts often drift towards him. Sometimes wondering what he is doing, if he is engaged in a new idea, spending too much time in that smithery of his, or if he’s teaching the young Parker boy how to build and create, if he’s taking the dogs for a walk, or if he’s pondering over a problem Lady Carter presented him with. Other times, she would see, read, or hear something that would remind her of him, making a mental note to bring it up in their next conversation. Even rarer, she would walk through the streets with her handmaiden or James or the Romanoff sisters, and see a gentleman who looks a bit like Tony. It’s never him, of course, Tony doesn’t parade around the town if he can hide away instead, but it’s always enough to make her breathless for just a second.

Pepper is certain that all of these things mean a great deal of trouble for her.

Which is why she decided, in a very uncharacteristic fashion, to not think about these reasons too much. She enjoys spending time with Tony, maybe even more after he opened up to her and shared his fears with her, and she doesn’t want it change the last few months they can spend like this. There’s a connection between them, not unlike the ones she has with her dearest friends and family, and yet entirely different.

She could most likely spend hours trying to ponder about it, searching through all the books in the Rhodes manor to find the right word, losing too much sleep in her unsatiable urge to define it and put it in a box to sort it away.

But Pepper doesn’t. Instead, she pushes all of it away, telling herself those confusing feelings don’t matter, and that by the end of the season she will be married and Tony will be back on his way to Hastings.

(There is, of course, a stab in her chest whenever she thinks about this. Obviously, she ignores that stab as well.)

It has nearly been a fortnight since Pepper and Tony had their – unchaperoned and therefor undoubtedly scandalous – private talk, and tonight they’re attending a gallery opening. Pepper has been looking forward to it since the first rumours of this event arose, for Mrs. Cartwright, the wife of the owner of the new gallery, is quite known to turn a simple event into something more joyous, with surprising and spontaneous orchestras and dances that the entire ton already anticipated. Art, dancing, and her friends and family as company are all things Pepper cherishes in events.

As she enters the large gallery on James’ arm, her eyes immediately scan the crowd for messy dark hair or a coat in familiar red and golden colours, but while she does spot the Romanoff family, Tony is nowhere to be seen. At first, she thinks that maybe he hasn’t arrived yet, but then she sees Lady Carter, who is clearly taking great pleasure in turning respectable, young gentlemen into babbling fools who are desperately trying flee.

He’s hiding, then.

“Go on,” James half-whispers as they pass the other guests, smiling politely.

“What are you talking about?” Pepper says through a smile, seeing Captain Wilson at the other end of the room, and doing a little curtsy as she catches his eyes. In response, he raises his glass and smiles.

“I thought you might like to immediately wander off to find out where Stark is hiding instead of pretending to be really interested in talking to someone else.” Startled by his words, Pepper falters in her steps for just a moment, barely noticeable if you haven’t been paying attention. Judging by James’ smile, he did pay attention. “Or have you not been looking for him?”

“I do not know what you’re talking about.”

“Pepper, dearest. I’m not an idiot.”

“Are you not? And in all of the years we lived together, you never felt the need to inform me about that?” James’ laugh is nothing more than a short bark, quickly cut off to not draw attention, but Pepper feels her chest swell with pride and mirth and a strange sort of affection she supposes only the closest of friends can feel over an insincere barb nonetheless.

“You can either go find him or I can change my mind,” James says lightly, his mood too good to be really hurt by her words. “Maybe it is time for another display of brotherly concern, now that you’re gaining not only suitors but proposals as well. It has been a while since I practiced my glares.”

“Do that and I will tell Natasha and Yelena to torture you for eternity,” Pepper threatens in jest before she presses a quick kiss against his cheek and lets go of his arm. As politely and as quickly as she can, she searches the crowd for Tony, but when she still can’t find him, she discretely wanders to some of the less sought-out rooms of the gallery.

It takes her a few tries, but eventually Pepper finds him in a somewhat hidden room, one people only come across when they’re really interested to see the art instead of mingling around, and since this event is not really about the art, he is completely alone. Tony sits on a low plush bench, a little book resting on his knee, and he’s scribbling into it. There’s a wrinkle between his eyebrows, forming a barely-there v on his forehead, as his eyes seem to fly over the page even faster than his hand, filled with a spark she only notices when he is talking about his inventions.

As soundlessly as she can, Pepper approaches him, trying to get a look at it before he notices her. She does get a look, but she couldn’t make sense of all the numbers and letters seemingly being placed randomly next to each other. However, there is a roughly drawn sketch that gives her an inkling what he is working on. “Is that your horseless carriage?”

A lady never gloats in the fact that she startled someone, so if anyone asked her, Pepper would be oh so apologetic about the way Tony jumped at her words – but nobody asked her, so she was free to gloat. “Pepper! I didn’t hear you come in!”

“I believe a cannon could have been fired off next to you and you wouldn’t have heard it,” she jokes, taking a seat next to him. She gives the book another pointed look. “Was I right? Is it your carriage?”

Tony nods once, angling the book to allow her a better look. The better look does nothing to make her understand it even a bit more. “I had a sudden inspiration that I needed to jot down.” He had explained to her that urges like that do come up from time to time; an idea that crosses his mind and that he simply has to write down to catch it before it is gone with the next gust of wind. James had also reassured her that that urge was quite real and that there is no way of stopping that thought or Tony trying to catch it.

“And the opportunity to hide from the ton had nothing to do with this?”

A smirk he isn’t bothering to hide is spreading across his face. “Now, Miss Potts, you do know how thrilled I am every time a mama comes over to me to praise her daughter. Did you know that, according to those mamas, all of London is filled with the world’s best pianists? Each and every of their children is absolutely exceptional at it. That or the violin.”

“Someone should tell the orchestras of the world. Their tedious search for good musicians could be so much easier.”

Amused about Pepper’s willingness to play along, his smirk turns into a smile. “I will send word out first thing in the morning. Though, I do believe that none of them can hold a candle to your skills at the piano forte.”

“You haven’t heard me play yet, Your Grace.”

“True. I haven’t heard you play yet. But I did hear certain rumours about your entire street hearing you play when your mood is foul enough. And your neighbourhood seems very pleased with your abilities.”

Pepper can’t help but bark out a laugh at that. She knows for certain that, even though her musical skills are above average, none of her neighbours enjoy all of her concerts she forces them to listen to. There are simply too many of them. “They must have been trying to get into your good graces.”

“Or the good graces of the Rhodes’ by helping them marrying off their daughter to a duke.”

“And therefor accomplishing the very self-serving goal of not hearing me practice the piano forte some more, for I would be too far away. Everyone seems to gain something in that scenario.”

This time, they both laugh about the image they painted in their minds of conspiring neighbours. As the laughter slowly ebbs away, Pepper finds that the smile stays on her lips, and her chest is still filled with the good mood that is flowing through her body, travelling all the way to the tip of her toes.

“I had an idea,” Tony eventually explains, tapping the page of his book. “One that might work this time.”

During their times promenading and making conversation during their dances, Tony had told her plenty of all the times he failed at this particular project, and Pepper had expected his mood to be foul, for she knows the bigger a man’s ego is, the more fragile it grows, and Tony’s ego is big enough for half the bachelors in London. However, he surprised her. Instead of being discouraged by his failed attempts, it seems spur him on. It is merely a game of elimination, he had called it, chipper and upbeat, eventually, I will find the right solution.

If Pepper is quite honest, she is excited to see what he will come up with. “Well, if it does eventually work, I do hope that I will be one of the first ones to ride in it.”

“Of course. However, I do reserve myself the right to make sure the carriage doesn’t suddenly go up in flames before I let anyone else set a foot inside it.”

“Yes, of course. We wouldn’t want people thinking you were making weapons instead of revolutionary breakthroughs.”

“Precisely.”

There’s another reply on her lips – keeping the conversation flowing is always so easy, and even if they don’t speak, the silence between them doesn’t become suffocating – but their attention is suddenly pulled away when they hear the distant sound of a commotion coming from the main hall.

“Did some poor girl faint?” Tony asks, and Pepper can’t really tell if she is hearing concern in his voice or rather distaste over the very popular, yet a bit frowned upon habit of young women fainting to get the attention of possible suitors.

“I believe it is time for us to go back,” she says, standing up. There is a voice at the back of her head that reminds her what people will think if they see them coming out of an empty room unchaperoned, but she ignores that voice. She has been ignoring that voice for longer than it is considered to be proper.

Heaving a sigh, Tony pockets his little book before standing up and offering Pepper his hand. She accepts it, as well as the elbows he offers her immediately after, and together they make their way back. Nobody notices them re-enter the hall, their attention drawn to the entrance.

“I believe the Queen just arrived,” Tony whispers to hear, making use of the very few inches he has on her and the fact that no one with a particular tall coiffeur is standing in front of him (unlike in Pepper’s case).

That is a surprise. While the Queen does enjoy gossip, her position in society, and the power she has over the ton, she is not known to grace smaller events like these with her presence. “Whyever is she here?”

Suddenly, the lady with the impressive and view-blocking hair turns towards them, obviously having overheard their whispered conversation. Her eyes are wide and full of excitement, and she almost looks like she might truly faint any moment. “The Queen brought her nephew with her.”

“Her nephew?”

“The prince!”

Just then, as if they have been listening in and waiting for the perfect opportunity, the Queen and her nephew pass Pepper’s line of sight. Nobody had been aware of the prince’s presence in England, not even Lady Whistledown, because even the tiniest rumour would have travelled like wild fire.

Prince Steve Rogers looks like the prince that every little girl imagines when hearing a fairy tale about a young maiden being rescued by a knight in a shining armour on a horse. Tall, handsome, bright blue eyes, blonde hair, dressed in what seems to be a blue royal uniform, decorated with medals and a thin, decorative rapier swinging at his side; and though the London ton is littered with several dragons taking form of vicious people with sharp tongues, Pepper isn’t quite sure a rapier is the right weapon to fight them.

However, there’s a hint of awkwardness to him. She sees it in the way he carries himself, the way his broad shoulders somewhat hunch together under all the attention, in the way his smile looks a bit forced whenever a mama steps closer and fawns over him, looking for flimsy excuses to touch him, steering him in the direction of their daughters. All of the debutantes have wrestled their way forward, standing in the very first line, holding fans in their hands and being the perfect picture of demureness, sending him coy looks from underneath their lashes.

Pepper truly can’t blame the prince for looking like he would rather fight a dragon than continue this.

“Have you ever met him?” Pepper whispers to Tony, eyes still on the spectacle that is happening in the middle of the room. Since he has been travelling across Europe, he must have come across Prince Steve – who lives on the continent instead of England – or at the very least his lands. Given his title, an invitation to tea wouldn’t be unlikely.

Something peculiar happens: Tony stays quiet.

Confused by this, Pepper looks to her friend. Tony’s eyes are fixed on Prince Steve, though they aren’t filled with the curiosity she expected, but with a certain coldness. His jaw is tense, his shoulders stiff, and the wrinkle on his forehead is not from being in deep thought. He looks displeased. Almost angry. For a second, she wants to jest about Tony not being the most desirable bachelor in London anymore (it is a very well-known fact that Prince Steve is not married, hence why every lady is throwing themselves at him), but something stops her. She has a feeling this isn’t the right moment.

“Tony?” Tentatively, she places a hand on his arm, squeezing it once.

His eyes stay on the prince, and he takes a deep breath before answering. “No.”

“Have you not passed his lands on your travels?”

“I haven’t.”

These clipped answers are unlike him, and something akin to worry grows in Pepper’s chest. Clearly, she is missing a few very important puzzle pieces to solve this mystery, but she knows she won’t find them here and now. Instead, she leans a bit closer, lowering her voice so that the other guests can’t hear her words. “I have to say, all the young ladies are suddenly very humble. Not daring to look at him except for stolen glances, staying low, even if it means giving him a scandalous look at their décolleté. And how nervous they must be, for they’re all dropping their fans. The poor prince must have quite aching knees by the end of the evening, retrieving all of them from the floor.”

The corners of Tony’s lips tick upward, just the tiniest bit, but it is enough for Pepper to relax a bit. His eyes drift from the middle of the room to her, a certain sparkle in them. “You seem quite familiar with this game. Have you read the book all these ladies seem to follow?”

“Read it? Please. I wrote it.”

This time, an actual smile stretches across his face, and he leans down to her, lowering his voice as well. “If we’re already talking about the aches the prince will have to suffer through, let’s not forget a sore throat from telling each and every one of them how exquisite their dress is and how enchanting it is to meet them.”

Pepper really tries to keep the laughter from bubbling up in her throat, but she fails. A short burst rises up, and she isn’t fast enough to slap her hand over her mouth to quieten herself. Several heads turn towards them, wondering what is so funny, and she even notices Prince Steve looking in their direction before he is ushered forward. She knows she will have to meet him eventually; for one, she is curious about the prince, and for the other it would be quite rude not to introduce herself. But right now, she doesn’t feel any urge to fight her way through the crowd, just to be told how enchanting she is and how good her dress looks.

“This spectacle has left the table with the refreshments unoccupied,” she points out, “and I do believe I am quite parched.”

“Well, then allow me to change that,” Tony says, offering her is arm once again, and steering her away from the crowd.


There’s a reason Tony has avoided everything that has to do with Prince Steve Rogers during his travels like the plague, and that reason is the prince himself.

A rational part of him knows that the monarch can’t be hold responsible for this, that this is in no way his fault. But that rational part is also the part that remind him to take breaks to eat and sleep during his time in the smithery, and by now Tony is very much an expert of ignoring that part.

Prince Steve has been a looming presence in Tony’s life since the very start. The prince isn’t that much younger than Tony, and he has been a bit of a prodigy himself. That paired with his heritage always gave him a lot of attention, but he caught the attention of the late Duke of Hastings because of one, seemingly trivial, ability: he did not stutter. And therefor he was superior to his own son.

Tony’s memories of living with his birth father are few and dark, mostly the feeling of heartache and neglect, only interrupted by moments of kindness from Jarvis or Ana. He sees dark studies that are filled with books, teachers and governesses that spent the days with him, and the irrevocable knowledge that he wasn’t good enough because he couldn’t speak. Tony knows the hatred he got from his father was because of the stutter and not because the Duke had been unable to care for children, because he did care for children, just not his own. He cared for Prince Steve, who could seemingly charm everyone around him from the moment he could form his first half-word (though, looking at the prince now, Tony sincerely doubts it, he is too uncomfortable to charm anyone).

Whatever Tony did, he had always been compared to the prince, and he always fell short. No matter how good he was with numbers or how clean his letters were or how good he was at fencing or shooting or riding a horse; he always fell short to Prince Steve. Once he lived with Lady Carter, the endless comparison stopped, though that didn’t mean Tony could escape the seemingly growing bond between the late duke and Prince Steve. While all of his letters to the late Lord Stark went unanswered (and unopened, which he found out after Tony returned to Hastings and tried to right the mistakes Stane made), the reports of their friendship grew.

Lady Carter tried to hide the newspapers that reported about their visits, but Tony found them anyway. He heard the news while walking through the streets of the city, people excitingly chatting about it because their own lives were too boring. During his time in Oxford, plenty of professors asked him if he had met the prince. It got only worse during his travels, for everyone who recognized him seemed completely determined to convince him to visit the prince in honour of his late father.

Naturally, that only made Tony want to stay away even more.

But since his return to England, he hasn’t thought that much about Prince Steve, too preoccupied with finally taking responsibility and fixing what he has neglected for so long. Not to mention the entire charade he has made up with Pepper. If Tony is quite honest with himself, he hasn’t spared the prince a single thought in weeks, hasn’t felt the bitterness that came along with it, the feeling of being not enough.

And now, Prince Steve is standing in the middle of the gallery, effortlessly getting the attention of the entire ton.

Well, almost the entire ton.

He steals a glance at Pepper as she helps herself to some lemonade. An almost uncontrollable wave of affection rolled over his body as his friend had decided to give him her attention instead of the prince. Oh, Tony is aware that it is only a matter of time before Pepper will join the rest of the young ladies, he knows she is too curious and too polite to ignore him, but right now, she chooses to spend time with him, and that means more to him than he could ever put into words.

Pepper notices his stare, and raises a challenging eyebrow. “Is there something wrong with my face?”

“Of course not. It is as lovely as ever.” All he gets is a roll of her eyes.

Things have changed. Not only between them – a somewhat, for the lack of a better word, deeper connection between the two of them, after having bared some of their most vulnerable parts – but also inside Tony. It is almost impossible to banish the young Miss Potts out of his head. Whenever he hears about another rejected proposal, he is filled with a strange mix of relief and anger. More than once, he thought about visiting the Rhodes family home, pretending to be a gentleman caller, one of the many she entertains now, with all of her new suitors, but he never follows through with it.

The thought of leaving to Hastings, of leaving Pepper behind, becomes more and more bitter with each passing day.

And yet he doesn’t do the obvious thing. Oh, there are moments when he thinks about it, plays with the idea of ending this charade, but he doesn’t. Perhaps he is too much of a coward. Perhaps he is afraid to destroy what they have.

Pepper purses her lips and takes a sip. “It is rude to stare.”

“I thought we already established that I’m rude quite some time ago.”

“Yes, but usually you pretend to not be rude in the company of the ton.”

“The ton isn’t paying attention though, is it?”

Something must have been in his voice, something only Pepper was able to hear, because she squints at him, blue eyes drilling into him as if she is trying to strip away the walls he built up. “You are acting peculiar. Even more so than usual. What is the matter?”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

Before Pepper could continue her questioning – one that would eventually (in that Tony had no doubt in his mind, even if it would take longer than this evening) make him tell her what is bothering him – they both notice a movement out of the corner of their eyes. Prince Steve is on his way over to them. While Tony can feel his stomach coil at the sight, he notices that Pepper sets down her glass and straightens up, turning towards the prince and dropping in a polite curtsy as soon as he is near enough.

“Your Highness,” she greets him, rising back up, and gracing him with the same polite smile she gives the rest of the ton.

“Miss Potts,” the prince answers, bowing himself a bit as he takes her hand and briefly presses his lips against her knuckles, “it is an honour to meet you. I have heard a lot about you.”

A few paces behind him stands the Queen, looking quite pleased with herself, and Tony doubts it is a coincidence that Pepper has been singled out like this, having this private moment (as private as possible in a room full of hungry eyes) with her nephew. After all, the Queen did declare her the diamond of the season, the best of the ton, and not gently pushing Prince Steve towards her would be like saying she had been wrong. Which is something the Queen never does.

Or perhaps she is simply bored and wishes to steer up some entertaining drama by disrupting Tony’s and Pepper’s infamous courtship.

Both possibilities are equally likely.

Pepper giggles a little, in the way she usually does when she is encouraging a gentleman. She never giggles like that around Tony, simply because she isn’t trying to encourage him to charm her. All he gets are unladylike snorts and smirks and barbs, the occasional loud laugh she doesn’t bother to hide.

Suddenly, Tony wishes she would giggle around him. It is a new wish.

“Please disregard any rumours you heard about me, Your Highness,” she says. “I promise I am not at all as terrible as they make me out to be.”

“Oh, no, you misunderstand me. I have heard nothing but praise about you. It is enchanting to meet you.” Prince Steve motions towards her dress. “And your dress is exquisite.”

There’s a slight tuck at Pepper’s smile as she undoubtedly remembers their conversation from merely a few minutes ago, and Tony wishes she would share a secret glance with him; something that would include him in this conversation, and perhaps ease the tight knot in his stomach away. But she doesn’t. Her eyes remain on the prince.

“Thank you, Your Highness. I am very pleased that you agree with my choice of garment.”

Prince Steve’s cheeks flush slightly, having caught the very subtle jest in Pepper’s tone, but instead of looking thoroughly embarrassed or even offended, the corner of his mouth jumps up. It looks more real than all the other smiles he has been throwing around himself until now.

Eventually, his eyes travel to Tony, which immediately makes him tense up. Lady Carter has taught Tony well in the art of looking and feeling confidence, of commanding a room by merely entering it, and given that Tony isn’t as tall, broad, and impending as the image women have of men from all the tales of heroic knights, it is something Tony clearly needed to learn. Since then, he has never felt intimidated by another man’s posture, knowing that he can outwit them easily.

But now, he is overcome with the urge to straighten up, to puff out his chest and appear more intimidating, to measure himself against the prince and come out of it victorious.

Judging by the look on Prince Steve’s face, Tony is the only one with that urge.

However, before a single word could come out of Prince Steve’s opened mouth, the small orchestra started warming up, and their hostess excitingly surprises (it is not a surprise if everyone has anticipated this event from the very beginning?) everyone by announcing that there would be dancing tonight as well.

The Queen clears her throat in a mock-subtle way.

The prince shifts his attention from Tony back to Pepper, bowing again. “Would you honour me with a dance, Miss Potts? I am aware that dance cards are usually the proper custom for this, but since this is such a surprise-”

Tony has to fight the overwhelming urge to scream no. He has most of Pepper’s first dances at events like these. There’s a part of him that tries his very best at telepathy, hopefully developing that ability in just this second, simply so he could communicate with his friend to decline the offer – but that idea is way more fantastical than the idea of a suit that would allow him to fly through the air.

Pepper does another curtsy, grabbing the prince’s offered hand, smile back on her face. “It would be my honour, Your Highness.”

Tony thinks she throws him a quick look as they make their way towards the slowly filling dancefloor, but he can’t truly say if that look has been real or simply wishful thinking.

There are certain emotions whirling in his chest; emotions that he could identify and name in less than a second if he wouldn’t be so stubborn (or in denial) that would explain the overwhelming urge to do something less than gentleman-y, something that, no doubt, would him make the protagonist in Lady Whistledown’s next pamphlet. However, he seems to be entirely frozen, unable to move anything but his eyes that are still tracking the pair on the dancefloor. Prince Steve is still holding Pepper’s hand – and is it really necessary to hold a lady’s hand that long? Tony doesn’t think so –, leaning a bit closer to whisper something in her ear, something that gets an answer in the form of one of her genuine smiles.

Tony hasn’t touched a single drop of alcohol since his return, despite the many temptations there had been, especially at the club. But never had he longed for a drink more than now.

Someone silently slips next to him. He doesn’t need to move his eyes to know who it is, he can already feel the smugness radiating off of them.

“They make a beautiful pair,” Natasha Romanoff says, her tone light, dressed in colours that would be deemed too dark for a young debutante. “Already looking quite regal. Just think about their children; blonde hair with a hint of red, bright blue eyes, and surely dressed in blue clothes, given their preferred colours. I can already see the beautiful portraits.”

Tony grinds his teeth together. Damn Romanoff and her ability to paint a picture in his mind.

The dancers are still shuffling around, seemingly finding new positions at their hostess’ commands. Tony recognizes the positions; the dance will be a quadrille.

He is moving before his mind can even catch up with his body, his hand already grasping Miss Romanoff’s. “May I have this dance?”

“It sounded more like a command than an inquiry,” Miss Romanoff points out, but lets him drag her along the pairs of dancers nonetheless. Tony’s steps are quick and he has a very specific position in mind; or rather, a very specific pair of dance partners.

After all, a quadrille is danced by two pairs.

It is a close thing, one he only wins because Tony isn’t above using a sharp elbow or two to make his way through the crowd, but he secures the most sought out spot on the dancefloor, opposite of Prince Steve and Pepper. The entire ordeal is such a whirlwind of chaos and excitement, that Pepper doesn’t realize who the pair they’re dancing with is until they’re already bowing to each other.

Tony gets a dark glare from her.

It does nothing to ease the boiling feeling inside of him.

The song starts, and they all fall into the familiar steps. Tony has half a mind to realize that Miss Romanoff is a very graceful dancer (it shouldn’t be a surprise, he knows she and her sister train ballet), but his attention is always pulled away. To the prince. Prince Steve notices Tony’s dark mood towards him. For one, there is the way he stiffens slightly, the way his smile looks a bit more forced, and on the other hand, it is nearly impossible not to notice his glare.  

They swirl around each other, switching partners at one point. Pepper grabs the opportunity of momentary closeness to him. Her bright smile is still in place, and forms a stark contrast to her hissed words. “What are you doing?”

“Dancing.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“Then enlighten me what I am doing, if not dancing.”

She doesn’t get a chance to answer because in the next second, they switch partners back, and for the rest of the dance, Tony holds on to Miss Romanoff’s hand.

As the song comes to an end, Pepper’s glare moves from Tony to sending Miss Romanoff a pointed look, and before Tony can even draw a single breath, the lady’s hand turns around and clutches his hand in an iron grip, all but pulling him off the dancefloor and into a secluded corner of the gallery.

Tony makes a mental note that he should try his best to never find himself the enemy of Pepper and Miss Romanoff.

However, it seems that he already failed that resolution, because before he can even think about making an inappropriate jest involving Miss Romanoff dragging him to a hidden corner, Pepper joins them, her eyes icy. Next to her stands Prince Steve.

Tony has been wrong before. This is the moment that makes him want to reach for a drink like no other.

“It was such an honour to dance with you, Your Highness,” Miss Romanoff says towards Prince Steve, her voice saccharine. The prince doesn’t get the chance to answer, because she already moves forward in the conversation. “Have you met Lord Stark yet?”

Oh, how he loathes that woman. Earlier, Tony had done his best to go unnoticed by the prince, and now she is doing this. Worst of all, he is quite certain that Miss Romanoff is very much aware of what she is doing.

“Not yet,” Prince Steve says, and then he turns towards Tony, bowing just a bit. “Lord Stark, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

Suddenly, he feels almost tongue-tied (something that he hasn’t felt in many years, not since he learned how to talk fluently), and in his head, he is repeating the lessons from long ago when Lady Carter taught him to control his stutter. It takes him a heartbeat before he can answer. “Likewise.” He doesn’t return the bow.

Pepper stiffens, undoubtedly because of Tony’s rudeness, but right now he is unable to pay her any more attention. The prince is clearly confused by all the tension and silent communication, but as he has been taught by his many etiquette lessons, he ignores it and tries to make polite conversation instead.

“I had the pleasure of meeting your late father a handful of times,” Prince Steve continues with a smile on his face. “May his soul rest in peace.”

“Yes. May it rest.”

Pepper tries to mask her gasp as a discreet harrumph.

The prince’s smile falters a bit, but the man is nothing if not stubborn, seemingly determined to continue conversing with Tony. “While I had many conversations with your late father, I must confess he did not talk about you often. Something I cannot understand, for I have heard some great many tales about you. I began to wonder if something might have happened to you, Your Grace.”

A sharp smile spreads across Tony’s face, and it is anything but pleasant. “Those are quite some deduction abilities. You are as sharp as a marble, Your Highness.”

Finally, Prince Steve’s mood shifts, the polite expression on his face melting away to give way to the annoyance. Tony is sure that the man’s next word will be less than kind, and a part of him wants this to escalate further, wants an outlet for all the swirling and boiling emotions that are building up in his chest, just waiting to explode like a steam kettle under too much pressure.

Something does explode, but it’s not Tony and not the prince.

It seems this is Pepper’s breaking point.

“I believe I’m in need of some refreshment,” she says. There is nothing nice or warm about her words, and the last façade of her smile dropped away.

The hidden order feels like icy thorns in Tony’s side. A part of him realizes that she is asking him to come with her, most likely to chastise him for his rude behaviour, and that he should take this opportunity to leave before he causes even more of a scandal.

But he doesn’t move. The anger has his mind wrapped up in cotton, making it slower than it is supposed to be. And when he finally does understand the meaning of her words, it is already too late; Prince Steve is accompanying her towards the table of refreshments, once again holding her hand.

Tony takes a deep breath. It feels like he couldn’t really breathe since the prince introduced himself to Pepper.

“Green isn’t a good colour on you, Your Grace,” Miss Romanoff says. He completely forgot that she was present as well. Surely, she would run off to her sister and share this with her; at least the Romanoffs are known to hoard secrets, not spread them.

Then, he registers her words. Knitting his eyebrows together in confusion, he looks down at his coat that is in the usual red with golden trims. “I’m not wearing green.”

“Oh, you are. Just not on your clothes.” And with those cryptic words and a smile hidden in the corner of her lips, she disappears into the crowd.

Tony doesn’t stay for much longer afterwards, but to his surprise, Lady Carter joins him on the ride back home. He sits as stiff as a board in the carriage, eyes looking at something outside their window and yet not seeing anything at all. The events from the evening are repeating themselves in his head again and again, like a never-ending torture.

However, it is not enough to make him unaware of Lady Carter’s burning stare. Lady Carter isn’t a woman who is afraid to speak up, and Tony knows from experience that it means simply more trouble for him when she fixes him with this particular glare and keeps silent.

“Is something bothering you, Lady Carter?” Tony asks eventually, ripping his eyes away from the scenery, and biting back a sigh.

Her eyes narrow. “Oh, there is indeed.”

“And what would that be?” For a moment, Tony thinks she might chastise him for his behaviour towards the prince. He knows he would deserve it, knows that most likely the entire ton is talking about it while Lady Whistledown already wrote her column, but there is a sharp sting at the thought of Lady Carter doing so. If anyone would understand Tony’s antagonizing feelings towards Prince Steve, it should be her.

“I have raised you to be a great deal of things, but I do believe I haven’t raised you to be cruel,” she snaps.

Something in Tony’s chest tightens. “I may have been rude to the prince, but not cruel.”

“I am not talking about the Queen’s nephew; I am talking about Miss Potts.” Her words stun Tony so much, he is unable to form a reply. Lady Carter, ever the smart woman, takes that opportunity to continue. “When you started your courtship, I told you to not bungle it up. Not only for her many qualities that make her a perfect lady in society, but because of your friendship as well. She is exceptional.”

“I don’t see the point in you telling me all of this,” Tony grits out through his teeth, “and what it has to do with me being cruel.”

“You are hoarding her, keeping her away from other suitors.”

“She talks plenty to other gentlemen.”

“All of them being beneath your status and therefor they don’t present themselves as threats to you. Which is most likely why you haven’t proposed yet.” He wants to say something – and he isn’t quite sure if he is going to protest or not – but Lady Carter doesn’t give him a chance. “You are playing with her heart, but yet you are unwilling to deal with the consequences and take responsibility for it. And when someone else comes along, someone who presents a better opportunity, someone who could make her a princess, you snare and growl like an angry dog and throw a tantrum like a spoiled child.”

“I haven’t-”

Don’t lie to me, boy,” she says firmly, barely raising her voice, and simply gripping her cane a bit tighter. However, what really makes Tony keep his mouth shut is the look in her eyes. “It is time to stop this game you are playing. You have to decide if you want to hold on to her or not. But you can’t expect her to stay by your side and ruin her future, simply because you are being selfish.”

With her last words, they arrive at the Carter mansion.

Tony stays seated in the carriage long after her last words echoed through the room, deeply lost in his thoughts. She is right; of course, she is, there are only a few instances when she isn’t right. Tony can’t continue this limbo. He has to make a decision.


My dear reader,

For anyone who hasn’t been in attendance of the opening event for the new Cartwright gallery, you have missed out on the biggest surprise of the season: the Queen’s nephew, Prince Steve, has decided to visit London! And dear mamas, you might want to sit down before continuing, for he is also looking for a bride.

However, if the rumours are true, his eyes have already fallen on a particular diamond.

A certain duke has been seen to not only be in a very foul mood, but to leave the evening quite early.

This author can only speculate whether a battle for a single diamond is brewing on the horizon or not. Either way, I will do my best to report to you.


It has been a few eventful days.

For one, Pepper has met Prince Steve which in itself has already been quite exciting. He seemed so shy and awkward at first, and as soon as Pepper had a chance to talk to him without too many ears around, when he was more relaxed, she found out that he is not fond of the attention he has been getting for all of his life. Pepper thinks it is almost poetically paradoxical as well as charming. The prince is easy to talk to and he listens, always a quick, polite reply ready. He is also a talented dancer. She enjoyed her conversations with him, and the few letters they have exchanged since the gallery opening.

Then, there is the matter of Tony. His rude behaviour has been more than odd. It is not unusual that Tony likes make sharp barbs on the expense of other around him, but he normally hides them better. Towards Prince Steve, he has been openly rude and challenging, not to mention him joining their dance, making a clear effort to gain that spot opposite of them.

If Pepper didn’t know better, she would have said he had been jealous.

Tony isn’t a jealous man, at least she hasn’t seen such a side of him yet. Over the past weeks, there have been plenty of other gentlemen dancing and conversing with her, buttering her up with compliments and praise, and Tony has done nothing but smirk and jest about them with her afterwards. He has never cut into a dance to steal her away, or has done anything but smile at other men when they interrupted their conversation to ask Pepper for a dance.

And yet he behaved so strangely just a few days ago. The thought of Tony being jealous did… something to her. For one, it makes her want to laugh, because Tony has no right to be jealous. Even though he pretends to be an official suitor, he isn’t. And even if he were, that still doesn’t excuse his rudeness towards a prince.

But while she is angry at him for such an inappropriate behaviour, there is also a small part in her chest that is filled with warmth. It is irrational, she knows that, for she has found a thousand reasons why she shouldn’t be so satisfied about his apparent jealousy, and yet those reasons did nothing to quench the warmth. In fact, she has to fight a smile every time she is reminded of it.

That smile slips away soon enough, every time she remembers that it is nothing but wishful thinking. Tony – and James – told her a thousand times he will not marry. They are doing this because he doesn’t wish to marry. If she learned one thing about her friend after all this time, it is that he is as stubborn as he is smart. He isn’t about to change his mind.

Nevertheless, she will still ask him about it, at the very least because she is curious.

Skipping along the street, her handmaiden behind her, Pepper makes her way to the little café that Tony and her have already visited a few times. They serve exotic tea and delicious pastries, and it offers shelter from London’s infamous bad weather. It is also a nice change from promenading.

Tony is waiting in front of the building, his hands behind his back, dressed as always in a red coat (though less fancy than the ones he wears to more official gatherings), the blue brooch pinned to his vest. He may face forward, but even from the distance Pepper can tell that his mind is somewhere else.

She tries to hold on to her irritation from the gallery as she approaches him. It isn’t an easy task. “Good morning, Tony.”

Something flickers in his eyes as he turns towards her; something that makes her stomach clench in a way she cannot describe. “Good day.” There’s a formality to his tone, even in just those two words, that she hasn’t heard in a long while. Truth to be told, Pepper thinks she has never heard it from him before. Maybe when he came to apologize and brought her strawberries, uncertain of the state of their friendship.

It makes her uneasy, but she simply clutches the small bag dangling from her wrist. “Shall we head inside?”

“There is no need for that,” Tony says, stopping her from taking another step towards the door.

For a moment, Pepper simply looks at him, trying to find out why he is behaving like this, but his eyes give nothing away. “Would you rather take advantage of the nice weather and promenade?”

“No.”

“Then what do you want to do?”

The expression on Tony’s face shifts into something Pepper can’t quite read, but it makes her heart skip a beat. He seems nervous. Why? Is he hiding something? Perhaps… Perhaps he isn’t as stubborn as she thought? Perhaps-

“I want to end our courtship.”

Every bit of air leaves Pepper’s lungs. “You… what?”

“Our… arrangement has fulfilled its purpose,” he begins, eyes fixed on something to the left of her head. “The prince seemed very much charmed by you, not to mention that you have the attention of every other man in London.” Not every man, it seems. “Therefor, I am quite certain that you aren’t in need of my assistance anymore.”

There’s a lump in her throat, growing with each word he says. Somehow, she manages to talk anyway. “And what about your benefit?”

“It has been a while since the mamas have made any effort in matchmaking. I do believe I will be quite successful at avoiding them until the end of the season.”

He still isn’t looking at her.

He is breaking their arrangement, and he doesn’t even have the curtesy of looking her in the eyes!

“Tony, I don’t understand,” Pepper says, voice dropping to barely more than a whisper and ignoring the way her heart beats in chest as she steps closer to him. Urgency is taking hold of her, the overwhelming need to do something, to fix this, and she almost reaches out to grab his arm, having half a mind of shaking this absurd idea out of his head. “Why are you doing this?”

“I just told you.”

“But I-”

“You wish to attract more proposals from suitable gentlemen, and I do believe my continued presence at your side and the attention I display in public would only hinder that.”

With every word that leaves his mouth, it makes less and less sense to Pepper. That can’t be the real reason why he is doing this. It simply can’t. The attention he displays in public? What about the attention he gives her in private? When she visited him at Lady Carter’s home? When they’re too far from everyone else for someone to overhear? When they steal away to hidden spots to share a laugh? Has all of that been part of his charade as well? Pepper sincerely doubts it; or at least she prays that it is not the case.

Because if it has been, then that would mean that nothing has been real.

The thought breaks something inside her chest.

Tony looks at her for merely a heartbeat, perhaps waiting for her to say something. But she doesn’t. Not a single sound leaves her lips. Then, he bows politely. “Good day, Miss Potts.”

He turns around, a whirl of red, and strides down the street, leaving Pepper standing there, confused and hurt beyond measure.

Notes:

THE PETTY DRAMA IS ABOUT TO BEGIN!! I'm honestly so excited for what is about to happen, you have no idea.

If you have a minute and enjoyed this story, please consider leaving me a comment :) It always makes my day and it helps me finishing this fic. If you didn't enjoy this, let me know why! Either way, I really enjoy hearing from y'all!

Chapter 10: A Game of Jealousy

Notes:

Hello everyone :)

I'm back with another chapter and I'm hoping that I can keep up the weekly updating schedule for the rest of this fic. Thank you so much to everyone who left a comment, I really do enjoy reading them! :)

Enjoy! :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

With a pounding heart and a spinning head, Pepper stares at the spot where Tony got swallowed by the crowd. Right after he left her, letting her stand on the sidewalk in front of the little café Pepper began thinking of as theirs, where everyone could see her, with explanations that did nothing to explain his actions.

He left.

He ended their ruse without so much as asking her permission or thoughts about it.

He broke her trust in ways Pepper can’t even begin to comprehend.

Tony left.

“Miss?” The voice of her handmaiden, Rose, pulls Pepper out of her stupor. The young woman, barely older than her, looks at her with concern. “Are you well?”

No, she wants to say. No, she is certainly not well. But Pepper isn’t going to admit that, not here in public, most likely not even in private. It’s enough that everyone witnessed it – how long would it take until the whispers about their interaction reach the ears of Lady Whistledown? Surely, it would turn her into the laughingstock of the ton once more.

(The thought of everyone who is anyone in London’s society mocking and laughing at her isn’t nearly as hurtful as the thought of Tony leaving her.)

In a fashion that Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts has mastered, she stretches her mouth into a polite smile, steels her spine in a way that looks natural, and turns towards Rose as if her friend hadn’t just abandoned her. “Of course, I am.”

The pinched expression on Rose’s face clearly tells her that she doesn’t believe Pepper, but after years of being by her side, Rose knows when to press an issue and when to drop it. Pepper has never appreciated that talent more than now. “Would you like to head inside, Miss?”

“No,” she answers, way too quick and sharp, but Rose gracefully ignores that. “No, I’ve changed my mind. I’m not in the mood for tea and pastries.”

“Do you wish to return home then?”

No, she also doesn’t want to go home. Strangely enough, there are clinging too many memories of Tony to that place, despite the fact that he has only visited it twice, and one of them she can’t even recall! But now, the house reminds her of Tony buying every single flower in London and sending them to her, of him visiting her with strawberries in his hands after Killian revealed his sly scheme, of him telling her about the dinner that turned Virginia into Pepper.

And now she wouldn’t connect any more memories of him to that house because he left.

It hurts.

Suddenly, she knows what she wants – needs – to do. Giving Rose a short answer, Pepper turns around and walks down the street, as fast as her slippers will allow her. She partly realizes that she is acting rather rude, because her determination makes her ignore some gentlemen and ladies who try to talk to her, but in this moment, she can’t concentrate on pleasantries.

As soon as she arrives at the imposing mansion, Pepper wastes no time knocking at the door; most likely a few too many times than it is polite. However, politeness is the last thing on her mind. Luckily, the occupants of the building are… flexible when it comes to being polite and proper.

Instead of being greeted by a butler or footman, Lord Romanoff himself opens the door, and for a moment Pepper is reminded of her friend’s words that their family tries to keep as few servants as possible. “Miss Potts, it is lovely to see you this fine day.”

“Yes, Lord Romanoff, the pleasure is all mine,” she rattles off, more muscle-memory and manners that she drilled into herself than truly meaning it. “I am sorry to bother you this morning, but I hoped I could talk to Natasha and Yelena.”

Lord Romanoff merely looks at her for a moment, undoubtedly taking in her slightly out of breath manner and the wild look in her eyes that has to be there. However, instead of asking her questions, he simply opens the door a bit wider with an equally wide grin. “Of course. They’re upstairs, supposed to be practicing their needling, but that is just their way of saying they’re gossiping. Your handmaiden is welcome to come in as well, of course. I do believe she is acquainted with Maria.” Rose nods once; the two women became fast friends, given that they’re always present when Pepper wanders through the city with either or both of the Romanoff sisters.

“Thank you, Lord Romanoff,” Pepper says as she enters the house.

“No need to thank me. You are always welcome here.” There’s a warm smile on his face, the kind of warm smile that makes Pepper long for the late Lord Rhodes. “You look like you might be in need of refreshments. Would you like some tea? A glass of warm milk? Or perhaps water?” Then, before she can even open her mouth to form an answer, he leans closer, the smile turning into a mischievous smirk. “We have vodka as well, and we can pretend it is water. No one would come close enough to smell the difference.”

For a moment, Pepper is utterly tempted to give in to that offer, but in the end, she refuses any kind of refreshment; partly because she isn’t certain either Lord or even Lady Romanoff would slip at least a bit of schnaps in there, and her head is already muddled enough. Hurrying up the stairs, Pepper easily finds Natasha and Yelena lounging in Yelena’s room. The younger sister is sitting at her vanity, absentmindedly running a brush through her seemingly knot-free hair, as she talks to Natasha in hushed Russian, while the other sister is spread out on a chaise longue, newspaper in her hands and her eyes running over it lazily.

Both of them immediately snap their attention to Pepper as she arrives in the doorway, even shorter of breath now.

“Pepper?” Natasha asks, putting the newspaper down and sitting up straight. Yelena sets down her brush and turns around, a small wrinkle appearing on her forehead. “What are you doing here? We saw you walking down the street with your handmaiden earlier. Were you not on your way to meet Lord Stark?”

“I was,” Pepper says. Her voice is barely more than a whisper, and now she wishes she would have accepted the offer of alcohol. Maybe it would make this easier.

“Then what happened?” Yelena asks.

Her chests aches as she answers. “He ended the courtship.”

Other ladies might have gasped at her words, but the Romanoff sisters have proven again and again that they aren’t like those ladies, and now they’re proving it again. Yelena’s eyes darken a bit as she lowers her head, and Natasha merely tilts her head to the side before patting the spot next to her, a silent invitation for her to sit down, which Pepper follows. Immediately, her friend reaches out and takes her hand. “Start from the beginning. What happened?”

“We were to visit the café,” she explains. “He was already there when I arrived, but instead of going inside, he simply told me that he wouldn’t be calling on me anymore, and that he has no desire to continue his courtship of me.”

“Did he state any other reason?” Yelena asks.

There have been other reasons, of course, but none of which Pepper could tell them about because the Romanoff sister don’t know about the ruse – at least, she hasn’t told them about it, and the simple idea of telling them now after Tony ended it in such a one-sided fashion makes her face flush in embarrassment.

The truth, the hurtful truth, is that Pepper can understand his reasons, and she might have even agreed with them weeks ago. She had gathered a number of acceptable suitors, had even received several proposals, there is no need for Tony to draw more attention to her. And by pretending to only have eyes for her, all the other mamas, even the most stubborn ones, have eventually let go of the idea that their daughters might be wedded to a duke. Their ruse had worked, and there is no need to continue it.

Except that Pepper doesn’t want it to stop for so many reasons she doesn’t dare to name, especially after the most recent events. It would only add to her embarrassment.

“No,” Pepper eventually lies. “No, he didn’t.”

“It seems quite strange,” Natasha says not unkindly, squeezing her hand once. “You two seemed so close, and at the gallery opening, Lord Stark looked so enraged and jealous by the attention the prince was giving you.”

“We are. Close. Or maybe were. And after his behaviour a few days ago, I thought he would-” The last word gets stuck in her throat.

Propose.

She thought Tony would propose to her.

It has been a silly thought, even more abstruse than some of the fantastical inventions he is so hellbent on creating, but once that thought had weaselled its way into her mind, it wouldn’t leave. A tiny, hopeful part had clung to the idea that whatever had Tony so determined to never marry might not apply to her. That he would loath the idea of parting with her as much as she hates the idea. That all the time they have spent together had been as meaningful to him as it has been to her.

And if he had proposed, Pepper would have said yes.

The thought has scared her just as much as it made her giddy, so she only allowed to think that thought in the lonesomeness of her bedroom in the middle of the night with no one around to witness.

But he didn’t propose. He all but told her he doesn’t want to speak with her again. And in doing so, he broke her trust in ways Pepper has never experienced before.

Tears are welling up in the corners her eyes, and there is no subtle way to wipe them away, especially not with Natasha and Yelena around.

“I am going to kill him,” Yelena mumbles darkly. Then, suddenly, her demeanour changes, and she almost looks exciting. “From the moment I saw him, I knew the day would come where I kill him because he has done something absurdly foolish. However, I didn’t expect it to be today. I would have chosen something else to wear. Maybe black. Or a lovely red shade to hide the blood.”

Natasha reaches over, taking her sisters hand and giving it a squeeze, a lovely and encouraging smile on her lips. “Do not worry, sister. There is still time to find the perfect dress for this.”

“I don’t want him dead,” Pepper protests.

“You don’t have to defend him, Pepper. He should face the consequences of what he did. If I remember correctly, your brother threatened to kill him a handful of times should he hurt you.”

“I don’t want him dead,” she repeats because she truly doesn’t want him dead, no matter how much he hurt and embarrassed her.

“Then what do you want?” Yelena asks.

That question gives her pause. There’s a part of her that wants him to face the consequences of what he has done, and, no, she isn’t talking about murder. She is talking about taking a horse, riding to Lady Carter’s mansion, storming into the smithery he is no doubt hiding in, and confronting him about the way he has managed to slither under her skin, how he has corrupted her thoughts until they would always turn to him, how he had made it impossible for her to look at another suitor and think him good enough, and demand he take responsibility for it. But her pride won’t allow it. Maybe if he had been gentler, if he hadn’t done this in the middle of the street in broad daylight, if he had explained the coldness in his voice, maybe then she would have thought about it, but no. He has burned that bridge.

Many women succumb to heartbreak. They would hide away in their chambers, refuse to eat or see someone, lavishly gathering the pity from friends and family about their broken heart, acting like a frail damsel in distress that is simply waiting for her knight in a shining armour to rescue her.

Pepper isn’t a damsel in distress. She refuses to be one. And while debutants, especially in their first season, are trying to appear as innocent and angel-like as possible, Pepper isn’t. She lied to the entire ton, she worked hard to seem so effortless perfect, she is not above scheming and planning to get what she wants, and she won’t break because one man suddenly decided that she isn’t worthy of his time anymore. She is worth everyone’s time.

Tony wants her to entertain other suitors and find a husband.

Fine.

That’s what she will do; and he will be forced to watch.  

“Regret,” Pepper eventually says, her voice harder than she expected. Getting to her feet, she suddenly can’t sit still anymore. Anger is running through her veins, fuelling her on to move and do something. “I want him to regret his choice. I want him to realize what colossal mistake he made by rejecting me, and when he comes crawling back, I will be the one rejecting him.” Her words are harsh, and most likely nothing more than an anger-filled fantasy (Tony is too stubborn to change his mind and ask her for forgiveness, she knows it), but saying those words leave her strangely satisfied, like she finally has some control back over this situation.

If anything, Natasha and Yelena look even more delighted over her plan than their planned murder.

“A truly excellent idea,” Natasha compliments her, also getting to her feet and taking her hands. “And I am sure you already have a plan.”

“I have,” Pepper says, allowing herself to smirk. After all, planning is what she does best.

“What did your mastermind come up with?” Yelena asks, joining them.

“There is a ball tonight, and knowing Lady Carter, she won’t allow the duke to not attend.”

“Ah, I see where this is going,” Natasha says with a smile. “Prince Steve will, without a doubt, be there as well.”

“And he looked very much smitten by you,” Yelena adds, a spark of mischief that she inherited from her father lightening up in her eyes. “Which, of course, made Lord Stark quite furious.”

“I need a dress,” Pepper says, her mind already spinning and putting all the pieces into place. Of course, she already has a dress, a beautiful white one that she would have paired with diamonds and silver, making her look like an angelic bride. It is a nice dress, perfectly proper for a young lady like her, but it wouldn’t do for her plan. “Something a bit more… scandalous.”

“Do not worry, Pepper, I do believe we will find a fitting dress for the occasion.”

“Maybe you could wear your hair differently,” Yelena muses, taking in Pepper’s updo. “It looks lovely pinned back, but perhaps a tumbled mess of curls would be even better for your plan.”

Pepper smiles. Oh, how she loves her friends with their wicked minds.


Punctuality is a virtue any respectable lady should have, and nobody holds that closer to heart than Pepper. Except for tonight. If she is being truly honest, it does bother her a little bit, causing her to pace endlessly through her room, already dressed and fully prepared for the ball.

When she explained her plan to Lady Rhodes, Pepper had expected her to protest, knowing the lady sets value on good manners, no matter the circumstances.

She didn’t protest.

Lady Rhodes had been thrilled that Tony had courted her, had made too many comments about weddings and children over the past weeks to count, and even when a literal prince turned his attention towards Pepper, the lady still favoured Tony, reminding her how he showed her his – pretended – devotion. It goes without saying that Lady Rhodes was almost as infuriated as Pepper when she found out what happened earlier that day, and when Pepper explained her plan of revenge, she had agreed easily. The lady even went as far and helped Pepper prepare, turning the maids away, and giving her some of her own jewellery that would work with the plan even better.

Pepper is more than delighted that so many women around her love to scheme (which, in truth, is a form of planning) so much, and don’t hesitate to use it when she needs their help. One day, in the very distant future, she might have to thank Tony for bringing them all together like this, first by provoking Killian and then because of this.

Or she might not. Right now, she can’t even see herself thanking Tony for anything ever again on her death bed.

The carriage ride to the ball feels particularly tortuous, and it’s a strain to remain calm.

“My dear,” Lady Rhodes says, smile on her face, but Pepper can see a sliver of annoyance in her eyes, “you are fidgeting.”

At once, Pepper halts her moving finger and fists them into the cushion instead of playing with the fabric of her dress. “I apologize.” The silence doesn’t last long. “It’s just… we’re late.”

“I thought that is the plan.”

“It is, but we’re later than the Queen.” Which is as close to an insult as one could make without outright saying it. If Pepper weren’t so sure that this plan would complement what the Queen has in mind for her nephew, she wouldn’t have dared to even think of this step.

Lady Rhodes reaches out and squeezes her hand. “I will be fine, my dear. You have plant this thoroughly. It will work, just like all of your plans work.” Pepper sincerely hopes Lady Rhodes is right, otherwise she can kiss finding a husband goodbye, having created too much of a scandal. She will have to leave London and change her name, going somewhere where no one has ever heard of her.

After what feels like an eternity, they finally arrive at the mansion – Pepper can’t remember the details of the ball, she has been too preoccupied with something else, but judging by the glamour and wealth, it is a very influential family. It takes Pepper an absurd amount of restraint to not run towards the hall and sneak inside, pretending like she has been there for ages. However, as they’re close enough to the ballroom that Pepper can hear the soft music and excited chatter, she halts, suddenly too nervous to move forward.

This plan is madness. She’s risking her reputation, she’s risking everything – and for what? Just to make Tony regret his choice? Should she really allow him so much power over her life? Wouldn’t it be better to just ignore him? To pretend like his actions haven’t hurt her in the slightest? Doing something like this isn’t like her at all, it is more something Natasha would do. Maybe her friend had influenced her more than she thought possible.

“Pepper,” Lady Rhodes says softly, and Pepper turns towards the woman she thinks of as her mother. The lady smiles, squeezing her hand once more. “It is time.”

“Am I making a mistake?” she asks quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Only if you’ll regret it.”

Her words do disappointingly little to reassure Pepper, but she gathers all of her courage anyway and raises her chin. At the very least, Pepper isn’t afraid of a challenge and she isn’t going to back down.

When she steps out of the shadows and onto the top of the stairs, she allows herself a moment to look over the crowd while no one has noticed her yet. Prince Steve is in the middle of the dancefloor, and by the uncomfortable look on his face, it is not by choice. There are many debutantes around him, seductively looking at him from underneath their lashes, drawing attention to their neckline by strategically moving their fans. The Queen is a bit further to the side, her servants almost creating a shield around her; one that Lady Carter is eyeing as if she is humouring the idea of breaking through it just because. Natasha and Yelena are meeting her eyes when she finds them.

Then, her eyes drift to Tony. He’s in the middle of conversing with another lord, his back half turned towards her, dressed in his usual red and gold garments, and Pepper simply knows that his brooch is pinned to a matching vest. The sight of him so carefree as if nothing had happened earlier this day, as if he hadn’t ruined weeks of friendship and connection between them, is the last push Pepper needs.

Moving her gaze away from Tony and fixing it on Prince Steve, she opens her fan with a flick and walks down the stairs.

It doesn’t take long until the ton notices her, partly due to Natasha and Yelena making everyone aware of her in the most subtle but efficient ways. And once they see her, it is difficult to look away. Her dress is a deep blue colour that would normally be considered too dark for a young woman, and the back dips low, toying with being almost scandalous. She took Yelena’s advice and has her hair tumbling over one shoulder in curls, quite differently than it is in fashion right now, and her jewellery catches the light of the room, making it dance around her. The necklace Prince Steve has sent to her the day before is tied around her neck, the small pendant sitting perfectly between her collarbones. There’s a small smile on her lips, one that could be a smirk if one looked at it from a slightly different angle.

Having her eyes stay on the prince is a bit of a struggle, because everything inside her burns to see the reaction of everyone else, of Tony, but she manages. She is almost at the bottom of the stairs when Prince Steve rips himself out of his stupor, making his way through the crowd as fast as he can, and reaches her just as she is about to make the last step, holding his hand out to help her. Pepper takes it with a smile, even though it was more than superfluous.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” she says, widening her smile, her voice sweet.

She has never heard a room so full with people so quiet.

“Yes, of course,” Prince Steve breathes out. He seems to realizes he is still holding on to her hand, and quickly drops hit, clapping his hands behind his back in a nervous gesture. While he certainly tries his best to look into her eyes, he is not quite succeeding, unable to hold the eye contact for more than a few seconds before his cheeks flush and he has to look away again. “Miss Potts, it’s a pleasure to see you here tonight. I feared you might not attend.”

“Oh, I have to apologize for my late arrival! I’m afraid we had some trouble on the way.”

Pepper doesn’t need to look at Natasha and Yelena to know they’re smiling. She can feel it.

Prince Steve nods once before his eyes does the looking-and-not-looking dance again. “You look…” He never finishes that sentence, and Pepper takes it as a compliment.

But she isn’t finished yet.

With a gesture that deliberately looks on purpose, she lets the fan slip out of her fingers, still locking her eyes with the prince’s. At least until he all but dives towards the floor, eager to pick up her dropped fan. Several gentlemen around him make a move to follow him, looking to enticed to notice their efforts are completely in vain. For a split second, Pepper thinks about moving her eyes away from Prince Steve, to dare to catch a glimpse of Tony and finding out if all of this has been worth the trouble and nerves.

However, before she can even make several lists of pros and cons, Prince Steve rises back to his feet, her fan in hand. She takes it, thanking him and gifting him with her best smile.

“Would you do me the honour of a dance, Miss Potts?”

“I would love nothing more.”

As Prince Steve signs her dance card and takes her hand to lead her to the dancefloor, the musicians starting to play again and other pairs joining them, Pepper sees someone flee the ballroom out of the corner of her eye. Her heart is pounding when she realizes that it has been Tony.


A certain diamond was the talk of the evening once more. In a dress that left ladies and gentlemen alike speechless, she captured the attention of everyone who attended the ball. It went as far as certain gentlemen leaving early, though this author can only speculate about the reasons for their departure.

If gambling was an acceptable pastime, this author wouldn’t bet against a royal wedding by the end of the season.


Tony’s fingers itch to rip something, but since he had already ripped the original pamphlet three days ago when it first came out, his destruction-friendly fingers are empty. The words, however, are branded into his brain, haunting and taunting him. Even though Whistledown spoke of gentlemen leaving the ball, Tony knows he’s the only one who left to so early and with such intent. Fleeing would be a fitting word, but it sounds too cowardly for his ego.

Not that he hasn’t been behaving like a coward. He is self-aware enough that he realizes he is one, and everyone close to him likes to remind him of that as well.

When Lady Carter pushed him to make a decision, Tony had briefly thought about asking Pepper to choose him. He banished that madness quickly, but it left him with an aching warmth in his chest nevertheless. For just a moment, he imagined his life with Pepper by his side, talking and laughing and sharing meaningful looks when too many ears were around for them to talk freely. And, perhaps, hopefully, their relationship would change into that of lovers, making them husband and wife in more than just vows and signed papers. It was so tempting that he almost jumped out of the carriage and ran towards the smithery to craft an engagement ring for her.

Then, he remembered his oath. He vowed on the late duke’s death bed that he won’t marry or father any children, and Tony intends to keep that promise, even if that means he will be miserable for the rest of his life. But he can’t do that to Pepper. While he could provide her with enough tasks and planning and problems to keep her mind happy, he knows that she wouldn’t be satisfied to live as his mistress; or more likely a friend who lives with him, even though everyone would think she is his mistress. For one, Pepper would never allow herself or anyone else to bring such shame over the Rhodes family (who, Tony is sure, wouldn’t bat an eye at it if it meant Pepper would be doing what she truly wants). And Tony knows that in the depth of her heart, Pepper wants a husband and a family, wants the companionship and the lively chaos that would come with it. She grew up in a loving and accepting household, of course she would want to pass that on to the world.

Tony is unable to give her that, and it would be cruel to demand so much attention and affection – even though it might be unknowingly – from her without giving her what she wants.

Lady Carter has been right, she hasn’t raised him to be cruel.

So, he let her go – no, he shoved her away, even if it was one of the hardest things he has ever done.

The look of betrayal and hurt on her face will haunt him for the rest of his life, but he will learn to live with it.

Eventually.

Hopefully.

It would be easier if Pepper would have chosen to give her attention Captain Wilson, but no, she seems absolutely charmed by Prince Steve. Tony likes to think it is partly his fault because his behaviour at the gallery has been so suspicious, but a part of him also reminds him not to be so arrogant. Prince Steve is the most desirable bachelor by far, and he seems to have taken a true liking to Pepper. She would be a fool not to entertain his advances, and she is no fool. Coincidentally, it’s simply the perfect finish for his misery.

And when she arrived at the ball, looking so alluring like both an angel and the embodiment of sin walking among them, having chosen something that defies her strict definitions of proper and appropriate, Tony felt his heart stop. He has no idea how he held himself back from rushing over to her, taking her hand and scaring all other suitors away with sharp words, but his body wouldn’t move. However, Tony was sure that the second she would look at him, no matter how fleeting, he would snap.

She hadn’t looked at him. Her eyes stayed fixed on the prince, who turned into a stumbling fool under her attention. (Not that Tony can really blame him for that. Who wouldn’t turn into a fool at such a sight of her?)

What other choice did he have but leave?

Talk to her, a voice in his head keeps whispering.

Tony ignores that voice. Obviously.

But that doesn’t mean he is being happy.

A rag lands in his face, distracting him from his self-pitying thought. Pulling the offending piece of cloth away, Tony stares at Hogan standing in the boxing ring. “You’re here to help me, not to sulk,” the boxer says.

“And I did,” he answers, waving his arm around the finished room. “Everything is ready. The only ones missing are your opponent and the audience. And the inevitable gambling, of course.”

Hogan has a boxing match today, and, because fate has decided to despise Tony, he is fighting against one of Prince Steve’s men. Not his best man, the infamous James Barnes, because there are rumours floating through the boxing community that there has been an accident that cost him his arm, but that doesn’t mean Hogan should take his opponent lightly. The spectacle will attract a lot of curious gentlemen, most of them willing to spare a few coins for their entertainment, which means it will be a profitable night for Hogan, even more so if he wins.

“You said you would help me find sponsors,” Hogan continues.

“Which I will. And, might I add, that it would be unnecessary to look for sponsors if you would just accept my offer of sponsoring you.”

As always, Hogan ignores that part of his comment. Tony likes to think it is because he doesn’t want to take money from his friends, but it could be Tony’s reckless past just the same. “To find sponsors, you have to be able to concentrate and be present in the moment.” Tony’s mouth is already open to protest, but Hogan doesn’t give him the chance to even take a breath. “And it seems like your mind is still at that ball from a few days ago.”

“How would you even know about that ball? You haven’t even been invited.”

Hogan rolls his eyes. “Miss Potts has been the talk of the town, in the best kind of ways. Even a boxer like me can make the connection between the whispered news and your bad mood.” Tony fully plans on delivering an eloquent speech why there is no connection at all between those things, but all that comes out of his mouth is an outraged scoff. “If I remember correctly, I warned you about this, your Dukeship.”

“Then you mustn’t remember correctly. Maybe you have taken a few too many knuckles to your head.”

“Maybe I have. But at least I’m not too prideful to admit when I was wrong.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

Tony fully expects Hogan to deflect or just ignore his question. For all that he is a fighter, the man prefers to fight with his hands, not his words, so entirely unlike Tony. But his friend surprises him by looking him dead in the eyes. “It means that you might want to rethink your opinion of your own marriage.”

This time, Tony doesn’t get a chance to answer because people are finally arriving at the small stadium – if one can really call this room a stadium – and Hogan hops out of the ring to greet people, leaving Tony to stew in his rage. He has thought about it, and he came to the conclusion that he won’t change his mind. If that means he will have to live with the stab in his chest whenever he thinks about Pepper and her most-likely-soon-to-be-husband Prince Steve, then so be it. He made his decision and he’s accepting the consequences.

Which doesn’t mean he has to like them, but he dislikes most of the consequences of his actions.

Luckily, the arriving crowd proves to be a perfect distraction. Tony easily moves among the men, relaxed that he doesn’t have to look out for mamas, and smooth-talks several of them into supporting Hogan, at least by not placing bets against him.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees James appearing in the entrance.

With Pepper holding on to his arm.

While it appears that she went back to more proper dresses for a debutant, it seems that her choice of activity is anything but proper. Women don’t visit boxing matches, and if her actions in the past concerning physical fights say anything about her opinion of them, she is not too fond of them. Which, of course, brings up the question why she is here. It’s so much of a surprise that Tony almost walks over to them, demanding answer – or, at the very least, some eye contact – but then the answer presents itself as Prince Steve walks over to greet them.

Of course, it’s because of him. The prince has arrived together with his fighter a while ago, and Tony’s greetings to him had been clipped and edging onto unpolite, but this time Prince Steve seemed more prepared for his behaviour and simply ignored the coldness and eventually him.

Tony’s eyes don’t leave Pepper, as she does a little curtsy for the prince while he kisses her knuckles before leading her away to meet his fighter and showing her a place to sit. Before Tony can react in any way (either by looking away or by stomping over there and demanding that she leaves because it’s not proper for a young lady), James is at his side, blocking the view of his sister. “It’s quite lively in here. They really drew a crowd with those papers they put out.”

Somehow, Tony manages to look at his friend. “Why did you bring her?”

To James’ credit, he doesn’t need long to figure out what he is talking about. He briefly looks over to his sister and then shrugs, as if he hadn’t done anything wrong. “She wanted to talk to Prince Steve in a setting he is more comfortable with, and she says she can stomach the senseless display of masculine violence for one day. I do believe those are the words of the Romanoff sisters, but to be honest, they could be hers just the same. Sometimes, it’s difficult to say who influences who in their friendship.”

That doesn’t make anything better. “And what would your mother say if she knew about this?”

“Oh, she does know about this,” James answers with a smile that looks too amused. “She even encouraged this. Not necessarily the violence, but talking to the prince. Our mother seems to be very fond of the idea of Pepper entertaining the prince and getting to know him better.”

There’s something behind his eyes and the sharp smile that lets Tony know James is, at least in parts, angry at him. Without really meaning to, Tony pulls back his shoulders, standing up to his full height that is not enough to match James’. “I thought you didn’t want me to court your sister.”

“I didn’t.”

“Then why are you angry?”

“And what makes you think I’m angry?” James turns further towards him, his smile still in place, but the look in his eyes shifted to something that sends a shiver down Tony’s spine. “If anything, I should thank you. Pepper is being courted by a real prince. If she marries him, she will never have to worry about anything for the rest of her life.”

With a last sharp smile, James takes his place on the benches while Tony stays by the ring, Hogan and his opponent preparing themselves to start any moment now. Shrugging off his coat, Tony can’t help himself but look up to the other side of the room where Pepper is sitting, her eyes drifting across the crowd with silent judgement. Prince Steve is next to her, leaning closer to say something to her, most likely explaining the rules if the way she is suddenly eyeing the ring is any indication. Before their eyes could meet by accident, Tony looks away.

Finally, the fight starts, and Tony turns all of his attention towards it, shouting – most likely pointless – tips towards Hogan, pushing his own sleeves up as if he is the one growing hot from fighting. The crowd around them is shouting, everyone firing up whoever they bet on, and Hogan holds his ground for quite some time. However, it’s the prince’s man who lands the first punch.

“You should try to kick him,” Tony half-whispers to Hogan as he offers him some water to flush the blood away.

Hogan looks at him in puzzlement. “What?”

“There is this new way of fighting, mixed martial arts. It’s the latest trend on the continent.”

With a deep sigh, he hands Tony the water back. “No, that is dirty boxing, and it’s not new.” Without any further explanation, Hogan turns back around and the next round starts.

The match is absolutely thrilling, with Hogan and his opponent switching having the upper hand with every other move. Almost restlessly, Tony walks along the ring, continuing yelling encouragements, his focus entirely on the match – until his eyes land on Pepper. It’s an accident, because for a brief moment, he has even forgotten that she was there, sitting so silently and unmoving around them.

To his biggest surprise, she isn’t watching the match but him. Something hot is burning in her eyes, something Tony hasn’t seen on her face before, and he finds it impossible to look away. Once more, he is overcome with the urge to march over to her to… he isn’t quite sure what to do exactly. Not scream at her or demand her to leave. He wants her to stay, wants her to keep looking at him like that, wants her to –

Shaking her head a bit, Pepper rips her eyes away, focusing on Prince Steve who leaned closer again, whispering something, and with the way he isn’t paying any attention towards the match, Tony doubts he is explaining what is going on. With a new churning in his stomach, he resumes his task of shouting at Hogan to punch him, louder than before, a part of him being distracting out of very spiteful reasons. 

Eventually, Hogan wins, knocking out his opponent with a powerful right hook that leaves the man disoriented on the floor. The celebratory cheers roar through the room, nobody louder than Tony who doesn’t hesitate to enter the ring and lift Hogan’s hand in the air, genuinely happy for his friend who seems too exhausted to sport anything but his usual scowl. As soon as they exit the ring, many come up to them to congratulate, a few even offering a sponsorship, reassured about Hogan’s excellent fighting skills after he beat the prince’s man. 

“Congratulations, Hogan!” James’ voice booms over to them, and Tony is in such high spirits, that he doesn’t hesitate to turn around, not thinking about who might accompany him.

He should have taken at least half a second to think about it. Because as soon as he turns around, his eyes immediately focus on Pepper who is holding onto James’ arm again, smile on her face, and ignoring him entirely, as if he isn’t standing merely a few feet away from her. Tony is somewhat aware that Prince Steve isn’t near them, in fact he is on the other side of the room, talking to his man and some other gentlemen. Does this mean something? Something other than James having grabbed her on his way out, only stopping to congratulate the victor? Tony wants to say something, but he feels like he is frozen in place, unable to do anything.

“Thank you, Lord Rhodes,” Hogan answers, the scowl slowly fading away from his face now that reality has set in.

“You fought very well,” Pepper compliments him. “Your win was well-deserved.” Hogan nods his head in thanks as he mumbles something.

“Since when do you know so much about boxing?” James asks his sister teasingly. She simply rolls his eyes. “And if I’m not mistaken, you did cheer for Hogan’s opponent.”

“I did,” she admits gracefully, gifting Hogan with apologetic smile. “James told me he would bet on your win, Mr. Hogan, and all my experiences with my brother’s past luck in gambling taught me to do the exact opposite of whatever he is doing.” James looks mock-offended while Hogan chuckles. He chuckles. Tony has never heard his friend chuckle. (However, he shouldn’t be surprised about this; if anyone could charm a laugh out of the most stoic man in London, it would be Pepper.)

“You sound like a very sensible woman, Miss Potts,” Hogan says.

“That is arguable,” James quickly says before Pepper can even open her mouth. Instead, she sends her brother a dark glare. “A sensible woman wouldn’t be seen at a boxing match. And before anyone can tell Lady Whistledown about this scandal, I do believe I should take my sister back home. We wouldn’t want to scandalize an innocent debutante.”

“I do believe it is already too late for that,” Pepper whispers, almost too quietly for Tony to catch. A part of him wants to laugh at that, another part wants to make an inappropriate jest, but he does nothing of that, he simply stands there and pretends to be the air they’re treating him as. Where is his damned impulsive recklessness when he needs it?

“Congratulations again, Hogan. I’m very curious to see where your path takes you,” James says as a goodbye, shaking Hogan’s hand, before he turns towards Tony with a brief nod. “Stark, I will see you around.”

For a moment, when James takes Pepper’s hand to loop it through his arm, Tony thinks – hopes – that she might finally look at him, maybe even say a meaningless goodbye just to keep up the appearance of being polite, but – of course – none of that happens. They simply turn around, Pepper’s eyes never even gracing him, and they exit the room.

“You’re an idiot,” Hogan says, making Tony snap his head around to him.

“You know, you should be kinder to me. I am a duke.”

“An idiotic one.”

“And what makes me an idiot? Despite every teacher and professor I ever had telling me something else,” he asks, his temper slowly taking over. This day… doesn’t go as he has intended to at all. Sure, Hogan won, but the rest of the day? Not to his liking.

Hogan turns to look at him, the smile from before once again replaced with the familiar scowl. “Because you’re trying to convince yourself that ending your… courtship doesn’t matter to you while you’re acting like such a lovesick fool that you can’t even open your mouth and say a single word when she is around. Not to mention that you looked like you were ready to enter the ring and fight the prince if necessary.” He doesn’t give Tony a chance to defend himself, simply turning around and walking over to some of his new sponsors.

Tony wants to scream that he is wrong, but that wouldn’t work in his favour. And it wasn’t untrue what Hogan said, he had been too tongue-tied by the unwelcomed feelings battling in his chest to say something, and there had been the urge to at least have a stern talking with the prince. Tony wouldn’t even have cared about what, maybe encouraging a young woman to come to an event like this, and if the match had been any less interesting, he might have done it.

But Tony isn’t going to admit any of that. He can’t even properly admit it to himself.

Suddenly, the room feels too stuffy and the air too muggy. It’s not like the feeling that overcomes him when his demons try to get a hold of him, no, this feels more like a strong annoyance. His first instinct is to run towards the entrance and just leave, but the chance of running into James and Pepper who might be waiting for a carriage is too high. So, Tony turns towards the back entrance and slips through the crowd without anyone noticing him.

By the Lord, how much he wishes for a drink right now.

Notes:

Tag yourself, I'm Yelena picking out a dress to murder Tony.

As always, I would love to hear your thoughts about this! It helps me work through the last chapter I have to write :)

Chapter 11: Two Different Gentlemen

Notes:

My friends, I don't even know what to say. The end of this story is near, in fact I actually finished it the other day. I'm a bit emotional. I'll miss writing Pepper and Rhodey as siblings and writing the general murder vibe of the Romanoffs.

This chapter is quite Bridgerton-y, so maybe you already have an idea what is about to happen ;)

Enjoy!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Staring at the amber-coloured liquid with such intensity that a lesser man might have taken flight at the sight does nothing to ease the urge to drain his sorrows in the alcohol. But it helps making look Tony deep in thought, which in turn means the other gentlemen at the club won’t disturb him, fearing they might interrupt one of his infamous inventions in the making, and no one wants to be the fool who kept Lord Stark from creating the future.

Truth be told, Tony hasn’t stepped foot into the smithery in several days. The last time he thought about one of his inventions is even further away. He had used the smithery as a place to sulk in peace, knowing everyone, with exception of maybe the young Parker boy, would leave him alone in there, thinking he is working on something. He hadn’t worked, of course, but not for a lack of trying. For hours, he sat bent over his little book, searching for the best way to make his ideas possible, but his concentration simply wouldn’t stay where he needed it to be, always drifting away.

Tony isn’t going to be specifying where they drifted to, it should be quite clear by now.

Eventually, Lady Carter had stormed into the smithery, demanding he will stop the sulking at once, reasoning that it is unbecoming for a young duke like him – or a young man raised by her which is more important than his title. In retaliation, Tony fled to the only place she couldn’t follow, the club. He knows it is only a matter of time before Lady Carter will find her way in here as well. She is not one who is hold back by something as trivial as rules.

He should enjoy his sulking and staring at drinks he won’t drink as long as it lasts. However, enjoyment is far from his mind. Instead, he feels a deep unsettledness that keeps him from relaxing.

Someone slips into the seat on the other side of his table. It’s James. Of course, it’s him. That family won’t allow him a moment of peace.

“There are rumours you are leaving town,” James says, setting his own drink down in front of him.

Tony has heard those rumours as well. He’s not quite certain who started them or why that mysterious person thought of them in the first place, given that he has no intention at all of leaving – it would be fruitless anyway, Lady Carter would grab his ears and drag him back to London until their arrangement has been fulfilled – but he is doing nothing to contradict them. “You are not sounding very heartbroken about it.”

“Stark, surely you must know that I’m always heartbroken to see you leave.”

“Because then you have no one to blame to be a bad influence for your less than proper behaviour?”

“Precisely.”

Despite Tony’s bad mood, he actually cracks a smile, amused by James’ bluntness and his admittance to being just as bad as Tony but using him as an excuse. There’s a twinkle in his friend’s eyes that has been missing the last few times they saw each other, and James doesn’t appear to be quite as angry with him anymore. It is nice to have this companionship back.

“I must admit, I have misjudged you,” James eventually says after a moment of comfortable silence.

Tony quirks an eyebrow. “Oh? In what regard?”

“In regard to Pepper.” At once, the easiness and lightness turn to ice inside of Tony. The drink looks even more tempting now. It’s bad enough when he is alone with his own thoughts, it’s even worse when someone makes him talk about it. “I always thought your intentions towards her were less than honourable, and that you were simply planning on distracting her from finding a husband as a form as entertainment. But you stepped back, letting her entertain the prince without any interference.”

For a moment, Tony thinks this might be a clever trick of James to try to get him to confess. His friend is annoyingly capable of reading all the feelings Tony is trying so hard to ignore and hide away. But when he looks up to James, there’s nothing but honesty in his eyes.

Still, Tony decides to play it safe. “You’re flattering me too much, Rhodey,” he says, purposely keeping his voice as light as possible. “You make it sound like I have any control over what your sister does, and we both know that nobody but Pepper decides what she is doing.”

James chuckles into his drink, not pressing the matter of the not-answer. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“Oh, I believe I certainly am.”

“And I believe I like the humble version of you better, even if it only exists for mockery.”

“Lord Rhodes.”

The laughter gets caught in Tony’s throat as he notices the person who just stepped next to their table. Prince Steve. This is just… perfect. The grip around his glass tightens, his knuckles turning white. Until now, the prince has never graced the club with his presence before, and in Tony’s opinion, it could have stayed that way.

“Your Highness,” James greets Prince Steve, immediately jumping to his feet. To Tony, he looks a bit eager, but maybe that is simply being polite towards a royal without that gnawing bitterness in someone. “I wasn’t aware you were coming to this establishment.”

“I’m not, but I was told I would find you here.” Prince Steve hesitates for a moment, as if he needs to find his courage to speak his next words. In that instance, Tony already knows what this is about, and every fibre of his being bridles at it. “I was hoping I could talk to you about your sister.”

James blinks once, twice, and then he sets down his glass in haste, the liquid sloshing over the rim with the force of it, before he motions for Prince Steve to walk with him into a quiet corner.

Tony watches them talk, the gentlemen around him too noisy and being too far away to understand anything, so he has to settle for watching their expressions as hot and cold shivers run up and down his back. It is not difficult to come to a conclusion what is being discussed. A sudden urge to do something comes up; he’s not sure what to do exactly, but sitting still feels like torture in this moment.

Nonetheless, he stays put, watching the pair with sharp eyes, watching their mouths move, watching the joyful expression on their faces – watching them shake hands.

Something snaps inside Tony’s chest.


Pepper is playing the piano forte with Lady Rhodes sitting on a chaise lounge to her right, reading one of her favourite poetry books, when James comes storming in, a wide grin on his face. “I bring good news!”

“Your opinion of good news is quite different from mine,” Pepper jests, but pulls away her fingers from the keys anyway. The day has been especially ordinary, but considering she is to attend a ball this evening, she does have high hopes it will become more entertaining.

“I assure you, sister, you will find the news good as well.”

“Stop the teasing, James, it’s unbecoming for someone of your standing,” Lady Rhodes chastises, though there is no real anger behind her words. “Now, out with it. Tell us the news.”

With a smile on his face, he turns towards Pepper, his arms crossed behind his back. “Prince Steve has asked me for permission to propose to you.”

A breath leaves Pepper’s lungs as Lady Rhodes clasps her hand in front of her mouth to hide a squeak. Her heart is thundering in her chest – yet the warmth that she expected to feel at receiving a proposal she should accept is missing. “What?”

“Prince Steve will propose to you. Most likely tonight during the ball.”

“Are you certain?” Lady Rhodes asks, getting up from the chaise lounge and joining them by the piano forte.

“Quite certain, Mother. He approached me at the club, and he was very straight forward.”

“And what have you told him?”

“I told him that the last time I tried to have a say in your quest to find a husband, I drastically disqualified myself from offering any advice on that matter,” he says with a kind smile for Pepper, who still sits absolutely frozen on the stool. “This decision is entirely yours, Pepper. While I do believe that Prince Steve would be an excellent match for you, I’ve learned my lesson. Whatever you will choose to do, you have my full support.”

“And how will you choose?” Lady Rhodes asks, turning towards Pepper, half shocked and half excited. “Will you accept?”

“I-“ Pepper feels something tighten around her throat. There is not a single thought running through her mind. A burning hand had gripped her intestines and is twisting them into a knot, but not in a pleasurable way.

She’d be a fool to reject Prince Steve. For one, he is a prince. A chance like this only presents itself every few decades, for members of royalty are still quick to engage their children as soon as they’re born. Marrying him would mean to never worry about wealth and everything it implies ever again. And for another, they get along well. They find topics to talk about easily, and even the silence between them isn’t entirely uncomfortable. Prince Steve is a good dancer, a good listener, a kind, handsome man, and they share the same values and wishes for raising children.

He is a prince!

She should feel overjoyed and excited about this news!

But she doesn’t. Truth be told, the only thing Pepper feels is dread, because this isn’t the proposal she wanted (and still wants) to receive.

“Pepper?” Lady Rhodes squeezes her hand, urging Pepper to take a breath, and focus her thoughts on something else. “What do you say?”

“I-,” she starts again, clearing her throat. The words that she will accept his proposal simply won’t come over her lips. “I’m just surprised. It all seems so sudden.”

“Well, it’s hardly sudden,” James says. “Prince Steve has been charmed by you from the very first moment. He sent you a necklace, and danced with you whenever he had the chance. Just a few days ago, you bribed me into taking you to a boxing match of all places so you could talk to him. Surely this can’t be that surprising for you.”

“I suppose you are right,” Pepper gives in, because James is right. This turn of events isn’t surprising at all. In truth, it would be more surprising if Prince Steve would have decided not to propose to her.

Lady Rhodes squeezes her hand again. It is quite comforting. “You don’t have to decide right now, my dear,” she says gently. “A decision like this is one for life. You have to be sure, and… and if your heart doesn’t want this…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t need to for Pepper to understand what she means. Lady Rhodes never made a secret out of her preferring Tony out of all of her suitors.

But Tony isn’t one of her suitors. He never has been, it has been nothing than a ruse, something for him to make the events a bit more bearable.

Out of an impulse, Pepper shakes her head, looking up to her family with a smile. “No. I believe I’m simply overwhelmed by the news. This very good news. It is not every day that a girl realises she will be a real princess.”

They laugh with her, but Pepper can see the doubt in their eyes.

She is certain that she would see the same look in her eyes, should she look into the mirror.


Since the beginning of the season and Pepper’s entry into society, there had been a few events Pepper had been less than excited to attend. Especially during the time when James drove every gentleman away and she had to avoid Killian. But over time, there hardly had been an event she didn’t want to go to, mostly because of the company she kept.

Now, as she is on her way to the ball where a literal prince will most likely propose to her, Pepper wants nothing more than to hide away in her room and never come out again. All day long, she tried to distract herself, made endless lists about why this is a good thing and why she should accept the proposal in a heartbeat. She pictured herself with Prince Steve in a palace, with small children, and when their hair turned grey with age. She could see it all, and she could see a harmonious companionship between them.

However, none of that did anything to convince her heart that this is indeed a good thing.

Pepper knows she will accept the proposal, though, because while her heart might be confused, her head isn’t. Rejecting Prince Steve would be the most foolish thing she had ever done. She knew from the very beginning that a marriage of love is a scarcity, and she has never been like some other starry-eyed debutantes who dream about being swept away in a romance worthy of a novel, but… a small part had still clung to the hope that she might be the exception.

That part of her is gone now, driven away by rationality. She cherishes Prince Steve, and believes that the fragile bond they just started to create will grow stronger; she might even learn to love him.

The necklace Prince Steve gifted her lays heavy against her skin, even though it is a delicately crafted thing. Her grip on James’ arm (tonight, Lady Rhodes isn’t with them, claiming a mild headache she doesn’t want to worsen by exposing herself to the loudness of this event) as they enter the ballroom must be bruising, and she does her best to relax her fingers. She dressed herself in one of her best gowns, and had spent hours trying to find the best hairdo, arranging her hair carefully before detangling it to start over again.

Almost as soon as they enter, her eyes immediately land on Prince Steve. Her throat tightens, and she pulls her shoulders back to push the unwelcome feeling away.

James squeezes her hand, leaning closer. “Are you alright?”

“Why would you think I’m not?” she asks with a smile.

“Because you look like you would rather run away than be here.”

“Don’t be silly. I am excited for tonight.”

Prince Steve notices them and makes his way over to them with a smile on his face, one that looks quite genuine. Air suddenly refuses to flow into her lungs.

“Pepper.” James tugs on her arm, forcing her to face him. There’s a strange expression on his face, almost pleading. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Her heart clenches. She decides to play dumb. “Whatever are you talking about?”

“You don’t have to marry the prince if you don’t want to.”

“James-”

“I don’t want you to be caged in a marriage you don’t want to be in.”

“Then what do you expect me to do?” she hisses, some of the nasty feelings in her chest bursting to the surface. It does nothing to calm her uneasiness; in fact, it rather feels like the opposite, her temper only flaring up even more now that it got some room to breathe and grow. “The man made his decision. What else am I to do but accept it?”

Before her brother can say something else, she lets go of his arm and crosses the last bit of distance between herself and Prince Steve, smile on her face, curtsying as he takes her hand to press a kiss against her knuckles. “Miss Potts, you look absolutely beautiful. As always.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

Prince Steve’s eyes fall to her necklace, and Pepper can see how pleased by that he is. The awkwardness that always accompanies him during these social events is still present. It is the entire reason why she wanted to spent time with him somewhere he was more comfortable, to get a glimpse of the real man. However, the awkwardness isn’t the only thing weighing down his personality right now, the prince is clearly nervous.

Clasping his hands behind him and straightening his back, Prince Steve holds her gaze. “I do hope there is room on your dance card tonight for the two of us.”

“I believe there is,” she says, gracefully holding out her wrist for him to sign. Pepper can feel the edges of her smile crumble as the prince signs the small piece of paper. There is no need to delay this, it would only make it more difficult, and give the irrational part of her mind more opportunities to whisper insecurities into her ear.

The songs the orchestra is playing are seamlessly blending into another, and Pepper decides to take the initiative. In a subtle way, of course. A lady always does her best to not bruise a gentleman’s ego – too much, that is. Or too obvious. “Oh, I do love this dance.”

Prince Steve looks up, blinking at her once before his eyes wander to the dancefloor, observing what dance she is referring to. For a heartbeat, Pepper thinks he might not take her hint, but then he turns back towards her, holding out his hand for her to take. “Well, then it would be a shame if you missed it. Would you do me the honour of sharing this dance with me?”

She puts her most lovely smile on her face. “I would love nothing more.”

As he leads her on the dancefloor, finding an empty spot between the other couples, Pepper can feel the eyes of the entire room on her, the curious glances of bored gentlemen and mamas, longing looks of other suitors, and the stabbing jealous glares from other debutantes who already saw themselves as princesses. With her head held high, she ignores them all, and moves towards her position opposite of Prince Steve, doing a curtsy once the dance starts.

It doesn’t take long for the prince to breach the topic. His eyes dance between her and a spot over her left shoulder, undoubtedly gathering his nerves to finally speak. “Miss Potts, I know we haven’t known each other long,” he says as the dance forces them closer together, “but, I… uh… from the moment I laid eyes on you, I-”

Her heart is pounding against her ribcage. Pepper isn’t going to admit it, but she is somewhat glad when the next step in the dance demands her to twirl around and briefly switch partners. She knows what Prince Steve wants to say, she has prepared herself for it – then why is she feeling so skittish and entirely unprepared?  This won’t do, she won’t allow it. She isn’t a coward.

A few steps and a twirl later, she finds herself in front of Prince Steve once more. “Ah, there you are!” he says, the cheeriness in his voice sounding a bit forced.

“Here I am, Your Highness,” she answers, putting the hopefully natural-looking smile onto her face. “I do apologize, I didn’t mean to seem like I would run away from you.”

“I would never think that of you.” He hesitates for a second, wetting his lips. “Some back home seem to think that I am the one running away.”

“And are you?” she asks when he doesn’t continue. There’s something in his voice, some kind of longing that intrigues her, and she would love to rather talk about what ever kind of emotional burden he is carrying with him than continue the other conversation.

Prince Steve takes another second to answer, and that tells Pepper that he is lying. The prince, for his many positive attributes, isn’t a good liar. “No. I’m not running, but looking for someone. Someone to start a life with.” He twirls her around. “To have a family with.”

He shouldn’t have twirled her around, because during the little spin, her eyes landed on someone she shouldn’t have seen. Tony. He’s standing with a few other gentlemen, easy smile on his lips, looking perfectly at ease as he holds a glass that seems to be filled with lemonade.

A gasp escapes Pepper’s lips as all the carefully built determination leaves her body. She hasn’t been prepared to see him here, hadn’t expected him to be here since he had made himself scarce during the last few events. Though she probably should have guessed that Lady Carter wouldn’t allow him to stay away for too long.

The truth that she barely manages to admit to herself is that she has missed him, no matter how angry she still is at him for ending things in such an unpolite manner. Tony has gotten under her skin, has managed to become one of her dearest friends without even trying to, and his sudden absence in her life left a mark. When she had pestered James into taking her to the boxing match, her main reason had been to talk to Prince Steve, yes, but she also knew that Tony would be there as well, supporting his friend. It was too much of a temptation not to give in, and it had been a struggle to keep her eyes off of him, even though his burned into her skin.

She had been successful – for most of the time. But then he became so focused on the match, shouting encouragement to his friends, looking like he was ready to jump into the ring himself, his hands flying through the air. Those damned hands. Pepper had developed a slight obsession with his hands, especially when they were moving around, either writing something down or fidgeting or tinkering. Watching him being so passionate had done strange things to her, and it had been a struggle to shift her concentration back to Prince Steve.

And now he is here, robbing her of all her confidence and resolve without so much as looking into her direction. It is not at all fair that he still has such influence on her.

Prince Steve takes her hand, and she tries to forget the duke and focus on her prince instead, but once she has spotted Tony, her eyes always come back to him; like a moth drawn to a flame.

“And so,” Prince Steve says, and Pepper rips her eyes away to watch him, her breaths coming way too quick, “I find myself with only one question left to ask.”

They stopped dancing, ignoring the other couples still twirling around them. Pepper knows she should smile, that she should do anything at all to show that she is joyously excited about this, but her entire body is frozen, refusing to move as much as her little finger. Breathing seems even more impossible.

Prince Steve’s blue eyes drill into her, holding her captive, while the people around them slowly start to notice their stillness.

(Is Tony noticing it as well?)

“Miss Potts-”

“I need a moment,” she interrupts him in an entirely rude matter, but the words are out of her mouth before she can think twice about them. The prince’s confusion is more than visible, and she scrambles to regain her composure. “To refreshen myself, Your Highness.”

Before Prince Steve could even utter another word, Pepper already turned around and flees out of the room. People are trying to talk to her, asking if she is engaged yet, mockingly calling her a princess, but she doesn’t pay them any mind, the only thought in her head to get away.

Somehow, she finds her way outside, the surprisingly cold night air stinging her lungs with each gulp she takes. It’s not enough. She staggers closer towards the garden, holding herself up on a small wall, suddenly feeling too constricted by her dress.

The prince was about to propose to her and she ran away. Why? Because every fibre of her being has resisted the idea of that proposal and her answer, no matter how foolish that resistance is. And Pepper isn’t a fool, she doesn’t act foolishly, it is the one thing she has always prided herself in. She needs to go back, needs to right the wrong she has just done. But her body still wouldn’t move, like her feet are planted to the ground.

“Miss Potts.”

The voice rips her out of her panic, and she turns before she is fully aware of it. Tony is standing behind her, his entire appearance familiar except for the unreadable expression on his face. Pepper hasn’t heard him approach her, hasn’t even noticed that someone followed her – and of all the people, it is him!

(And yet, a small part is glad that it’s him, wants to hurry over to him and seek comfort in his presence.)

“What are you doing here?” she asks instead, still breathless. “There are rumours of you leaving town.”

“They’re nothing more but rumours,” he answers, holding himself stiff and still. It unnerves her; Tony isn’t still or quiescence, he is always moving.

“Then why are you here?”

“Lady Carter insists I go to these events, as you know, and-”

“No, why are you here?” she emphasizes, waving her hand through the air, indicating that she means outside with her.

Tony sniffs once, eyes leaving her for merely a second. “I came here to make sure that my friend is well.”

“Friend?” Pepper repeats, the word half a laugh. “We’re not friends. We never were friends. You made that abundantly clear, because friends don’t simply abandon each other without as much as giving one an explanation.”

“I did give you an explanation.”

“You gave me an excuse,” she all but hisses, unable to keep the hurt that resurfaces hidden. “We decided to end the ruse together, when we both agreed it would be the right time, but you have seemingly forgotten all about that agreement. Instead, you turned your back on me when it was convenient for you without explaining or even so much as looking into my eyes, and left me in the middle of the street in broad daylight. You left!”

To her surprise, he looks taken aback, even slightly leaning back on his heels as if her words had physically pushed him. “I apologize.”

“Please do not apologize,” Pepper says in a clipped voice with a quick shake of her head, not giving him a second to elaborate and swallowing down as much of her raging emotions as she can to at least appear to be in control of herself. “I shall not be led once more by you from this direction to that.” Now that she started speaking, she seems unable to stop herself. “You have led me around plenty enough. You are my friend, you are not my friend. You are a reckless rake who runs away from his responsibilities, you are an honourable gentleman who is trying to better himself for his people. You are sorry-”

“I am sorry,” he stops her, taking a step forward.

She raises her chin, just the tiniest bit but it is enough to make him halt again. “Very well. But you should know that your apology has absolutely no effect on my life. Nor does you attending events or not or leaving London or not.” Tony is still standing there unmoving, absolutely still, the stillest she has ever seen him before. Feeling brash, she takes a few steps towards him, the anger inside her restarting her determination, even if it is out of spite. “I am marrying the prince. I shall be very happy indeed.”

For a moment, he simply looks at her. When he speaks, his voice is rough, as if he hasn’t used it in ages, but the look in his eyes strikes something inside of her. “Will you be?” His eyes jump over her face, seemingly looking for something, and his next word isn’t more than a whisper. “Happy?”

“Why would I not be?” Pepper immediately answers, but there’s a quiver, a sliver of uncertainty, that she can’t quite control. “Prince Steve is kind. And polite. And he knows what he wants.” She tries to find more, but comes up empty. “He is a good man. And he will make a wonderful father.”

“So, you truly believe him being the best man for you.” For the first time since he revealed his presence to her tonight, the blank expression on his face changes. Not quite into anger, but on its way there.

For some reason, it only makes Pepper angrier. “How dare you question my choices? They’re my choices to make, not yours! I do not question your choices to rake across the continent instead of taking care of the people you’re responsible for.”

Once again, Tony remains quiet. It is as uncharacteristic as it is unnerving. Experience already told her that a silent Tony isn’t a good Tony.

The words keep flowing out of her mouth, and she raises her chin, keeping his gaze, refusing to back down. “I do not have to explain myself to you. I do not owe you anything. He is perfect for me, and I’m going to be a princess!” Pepper has raised her voice further than she intended to, and has barely suppressed the urge to stomp her foot like a petulant child.

It should scare her what kind of hold he has over her. Even now, when she is so angry and infuriated with him, he makes her blood run hot and her heart pound like no one else, makes her feel things in such intensity and such variety that she hasn’t experienced before. Pepper certainly tried to lessen his effect on her, but it never worked, because as soon as she would even catch a glimpse of him, all her hard work turns into dust, and her body – both heart and mind – refuses to listen to reason.

Tony stares at her. There’s something broken in his eyes that clenches something in her chest.

“Are you going to say anything?” she asks after he still hasn’t even made a single sound.

He takes a deep breath, but stays quiet, his jaw tense and unmoving.

Her chest aches. “Then leave.” Like you have done before.

Tony doesn’t leave.

Suddenly, she can’t stand to be around him anymore, lest she might do something foolish, and she has already done plenty enough of foolish things tonight. Dipping her chin lower and flashing him a pointed stare from underneath her lashes, Pepper makes an effort of keeping her voice light and steady. “Very well, then. I shall bid you a good night, Lord Stark.”

She doesn’t bother to wait for a reply, she simply turns around and hurries down the path into the garden, grabbing her dress so she doesn’t trip on the hem. Behind her, Tony is calling out for her, but her feet won’t stop – neither does her wildly pounding heart. Further and further, she wanders into the garden, Tony hot on her heels if the way he keeps calling her name is any indication.

“Miss Potts! Come back to the party!” he demands, and Pepper, not slowing down one bit, rolls her eyes. Who is he that he thinks he can make such demands? Especially after she just told him that he has no impact on her life whatsoever (which is, of course, a lie, as their encounter has just proven). “Stop walking!”

“Stop following me!” she bites back, turning left to walk through an arch in a hedge, and following the path that leads through even more hedges, most likely leading them directly into a small labyrinth.

“It’s not safe out here.” He sounds even closer now. “I forbid you from going any further.”

Pepper actually scoffs at that. “You of all people cannot tell me what to do.”

“Pepper-”

“I do believe you have forsaken your right to call me anything but Miss Potts.”

“-just listen to me!” Tony grabs her wrist and pulls hard enough to turn her around.

Pepper fully intends on sending him a glare and a few chosen words, making it crystal clear that he is in no position to make any demands of her, especially not under the pretends of caring for her wellbeing, but the second she looks at his face, the words get caught in her throat. At first, she thinks it’s anger she’s seeing in his eyes, but it doesn’t take her long to realize it isn’t, yet it burns just as hot and leaves him flushed and breathless.

She can feel her heart beating in her throat, a tingle racing down her spine, and she is suddenly overly aware of how close they are, that she can see the way he swallows because he once more forgone etiquette and hasn’t bothered with a cravat, that she can feel the heat of his bare hands on her arm, his grip just a few inches underneath her sleeve.

“Go on,” she breathes, but the angry heat is gone from her voice. Truth be told, she sounds just as breathless as he looks. “I’m listening.”

“Pepper, I-” He cuts himself off, obviously unsatisfied with the way he can’t find the right words, and his eyes are jumping over her face. They drop to her lips, staying there for a second, and Pepper finds that they steal whatever little bit of air she has left in her lungs.

Then, with a tug on her arm and a calloused hand at her neck, Tony presses his lips against hers. Whatever thought had occupied her mind before immediately disappears, and all she can think about is how warm and soft his lips are, how good he smells, how her stomach is doing somersaults (the good kind), and how right it feels to have him this close.

A moment later, it is already over, Tony leaning back and looking at her with wide eyes, as if he couldn’t believe what he just did. Pepper’s heart is beating in her throat, she can feel the lingering warmth of him still against her skin. Her chest feels like it is too small to contain everything she is feeling.

“My sincere apologies, I shouldn’t have-” Tony begins with a slight stutter to his words, but Pepper doesn’t give him the chance to continue his (unnecessary) apology.

Instead, she steps forward, grabbing his face in both of her hands and brings his lips back to hers. As a young debutante, Pepper doesn’t have a lot of experience in kissing, of course, but judging by how enthusiastic Tony is to return the kiss, he doesn’t mind her clumsy attempts to copy whatever he is doing. One of her hands moves to his hair, gripping tight as if to keep him right there, and one of his hands is pressed against her back, pulling her flush against his body. A sense of urgency takes a hold of both of them as they move frantically against each other, making them unable to slow down or form a single rational thought.

Only when her lungs screamed for air, Pepper tips her head back far enough to take a big gulp. She feels dizzy, her head spinning, though she can’t say if it is from the lack of air or this intoxicating feeling. Tony doesn’t stop kissing her, his lips simply moving from her mouth to the line of her jaw and then down her slender throat, enticing gasps and entirely unfamiliar sounds from her mouth. The fire that started low in her stomach only grows, demanding from her to do more than simply stand there and let Tony have all of the control. Tugging at his (entirely tousled because of her hands) hair, she brings his mouth back up, claiming it once more with just as much urgency.

One moment, Tony matches her frantic movements, but then he slows down, coaxing her into doing the same, moving the hand from her back to her neck again, ignoring her attempts to rush. The fire in her shifts, not growing smaller or bigger, but it changes from an insatiable hunger into something deeper, something that almost feels more intimate and fills her veins with warmth. It leaves her heart racing and curls her toes, makes her grab onto the lapels of his coat to hold on to something, because she feels like if she doesn’t hold on, if she has nothing that tethers her to the ground, she might float away any moment now.  His wet tongue briefly runs over her bottom lip, and before she even knows what is happening, Pepper opens her mouth with a moan.

There’s an angry scream and suddenly, Tony is gone in a flash. Blinking a couple of times, Pepper recognizes James just in time to see him punch Tony in the face, sending him flying to the ground. “You bastard!”

“Brother!” she yells, taking a step towards James, but he ignores her in favour of punching Tony once again. Tony simply takes it, staying on the ground, waiting until it becomes clear that James won’t strike a third time before slowly getting up to his feet, almost like he fears he might punch him again if he moves to fast. With watering eyes, he lifts his hand to his nose, checking for blood.

James’ fury is a force that cannot be tamed. “You will marry her!”

“What?” Pepper gasps, her heart skipping a beat. There is a flicker of anger inside her, but she is quite certain that it comes from James making decision for her instead of the demand he made.

“Immediately,” James continues hotly, ignoring Pepper entirely, shoulders rising and falling with each breath. “We can only hope that nobody saw you taken such liberties, and that my sister is safe from further mortification. You will marry her!”

“James!” She steps forward, grasping his arm to calm him down, because if he continues to scream like that, they will surely draw even more attention to them. “You don’t-”

“I cannot marry her,” Tony says. It’s barely more than a whisper, his head angled towards the ground, shoulders dragged down by some invisible burden – and yet his words ring louder in her ears than James’ screams.

Something clenches in her chest, something completely unlike all the fears and anxieties she has endured before. She wants to say something, but Pepper finds herself unable to conjure a single word to mind. All she can do is stare at Tony, who slowly looks up to her, eyes pleading for her to understand, but Pepper understands nothing at all. Yes, she has been aware that Tony doesn’t wish to marry, but they had just-… Did that mean nothing to him?

“You have defiled her innocence and now you refuse her hand?” James asks, his voice suddenly dangerous low and calm. Tony simply lets his eyes fall to the ground and stays quiet, giving them a non-verbal answer.

It feels like someone has punched all the air out of Pepper’s lungs, and she balls her hands into fists to keep them from shaking, tears starting to sting in her eyes. She feels like a fool. Why has she gotten her hopes up? Even before she met Tony at the beginning of the season, she has heard plenty about his reputation when it comes to women. She knew that he never had any wish to marry, that had been the entire reason why they had the opportunity to get close in the first place. Throughout the last weeks, he kept insisting he doesn’t want to marry, and he ended their arrangement so Pepper could marry.

And yet she had hoped he might have changed his mind. Then again, plenty of women thought they could convert a rake into an honest husband, and they all failed – why should Pepper be any different than them? The worst part, however, is that Pepper has been so quick to step back from her word. Merely minutes ago, she declared that Tony has no hold over her life whatsoever, and now…

Now she stands here like a heartbroken fool.

“Is that your last word?” James growls.

“I cannot marry her,” Tony repeats, keeping his eyes as far away from Pepper as possible. There’s a certain tilt in his voice she can’t place, but it does nothing to bring her comfort.

“Very well, then you leave me no choice.” James steps closer to the duke, drawing himself to his full height, and taking advantage of the few inches he has on Tony. “I must demand satisfaction. I challenge you to a duel.”

Tony looks at James, eyes still clouded with emotions she cannot read, but then he nods, accepting the challenge that might end with the death of one of them. He would rather die than marry her.

Pepper will not stand for it. Neither for the senseless, violent act of a duel nor to be so passive in a matter they claim is about her. Taking a deep breath and raising her chin, she keeps her voice study as she declares, “You will do no such thing.”

James turns towards her, almost looking like he forgot she was here. “Sister, he dishonoured you and me and our family name. A duel-”

“A duel is barbaric, not to mention entirely unnecessary,” Pepper talks over him, her voice sharp, and allows no room for any objections. “You were the only one who saw us, and unless any of you feel the need to share what has happened, my innocent remains undefiled, to use the words you seem fitting.”

“Pepper-”

“I clearly remember you promising you wouldn’t meddle with my search for a husband anymore, James.” She throws her brother a pointed glare. “I do believe that includes forcing me into a marriage for whatever reasons.”

James presses his lips into a thin line, clearly not satisfied with what is happening, but unwilling to turn this into an argument when any other guest might find them here. For a second, the urge to look towards Tony overcomes Pepper, but she stays strong, smoothing a hand over her dress, and already turning towards the path that would lead them out of the garden. “Now, I would like to go home. This has been enough excitement for one evening for me.”

Pepper doesn’t wait for an answer before starting to walk away. James is at her side in an instant, grabbing her arm to urge her to move faster to the carriages. It is unpolite to leave without saying their goodbyes, but neither of them is too eager to go back inside.

The second the doors of the carriage are closed behind them, James snarls, “Have you lost your mind? Pepper, that was absolutely foolish from you!”

“No, you challenging him to a fight to death was foolish!”

“It is the proper thing to do!”

“It is entirely unnecessary!”

“Stark has been playing with you from the very first moment,” James says, leaning forward, hands gripping the sides of the carriage. “He never had any intention of marriage, and yet he still courted you, even when I repeatedly told him-”

“He never courted me,” Pepper says too loudly. A weight lifted off her chest, leaving her feeling light, yet not better – on the contrary, it only made her feel more vulnerable. Tears are once again gathering in her eyes, and the privacy of their carriage, she doesn’t quite find the strength she needs to fight them back.

“What?” he eventually asks breathlessly.

Suddenly, Pepper feels so very tired despite the relatively early hour. “Tony never courted me. It was a ruse. We came up with the idea at the Vauxhall celebration as a way for me to gain new suitors, so that I didn’t have to marry Killian, and for him to have an excuse to avoid any matchmaking. I was perfectly aware that he never had any intention of marrying me.”

“What he did to you in the garden-”

“Don’t act like I hadn’t been part of that,” Pepper hisses, anger flaring up once more as once again a man tries to take her ability to make her own choices away. “I knew what was happening and I had the opportunity to stop it. I didn’t. And I made that choice, fully aware of what it would mean. You have no right to defend my honour when I give it away freely.”

For a long moment, James is silent, but Pepper can’t find it in herself to look at him. All she wants to do is to get out of the dress, crawl into her bed, and not get up for several days.

“Everything has been nothing but pretending?” he asks when they’re already halfway through London. His voice isn’t quite unbelieving, but careful, as if he is trying to make sense of everything without upsetting her further.

Pepper takes a shuddering breath. “Yes. Everything was just pretend.” There’s a stab at those words because she knows it’s a lie. At least, when it comes to her own feelings.

James stays silent for another moment, and when he eventually speaks, there’s a softness to his voice that he reserves for only the most delicate of situations. “Pretending to be in love is an awfully convenient way to really fall in love.”

A watery laugh breaks out of Pepper’s mouth, and James gracefully ignores the tears she is wiping from the corner of her eye.

Notes:

The plot thickens! And the plot will move away from the Bridgerton storyline a bit more, especially because there won't be a duel.

I am very interested in hearing what you think about this chapter. As someone who mainly writes about platonic relationships and found family, this was a bit of a challenge (as well as the next to chapters). So, if you have a moment, please let me know how I did!

Chapter 12: Proposals

Notes:

Hi :)

I'm warning you, this is kinda a rollercoaster of emotions. Brace yourselves.

Enjoy! :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Despite Pepper’s wish to hide away under her covers until all of her problems have magically solved themselves, she does get out of bed in time for breakfast. A late breakfast, for sleep hasn’t come easy to her, leaving her tossing and turning for half of the night; so much so that Salt the kitten jumped down from her bed and curled up by the window. Pepper can’t remember falling asleep, only remembering waking up when Rose tentatively enters her room, inquiring if she is feeling well. With a few reassuring words for her, Pepper eventually gets out of her bed and starts her usual routine, declining Rose’s help with getting ready despite the late hour. With every stroke of her brush through her hair, she feels calmer, and when she manages to hide the slightly dark circles underneath her eyes with way too much powder, she feels almost like herself again.

Almost. And as a perfectionist, it bothers her quite a bit that she doesn’t fully feel like herself.

James isn’t at breakfast. Pepper has no idea if he fled to the club – it would be quite early in the day for a drink – or if he is hiding in his own room, but she decides not to ponder over it. Lady Rhodes sits at the table that is still covered with food, lifting a cup of tea to her lips as her eyes read through a newspaper. There is a pamphlet of Lady Whistledown’s latest gossip as well, and a part of Pepper itches to grab the piece of paper to find out if there is anything written about her.

“Good morning, Lady Rhodes,” Pepper greets her instead and takes a seat. Even though the food looks as delicious as always, she isn’t hungry. In fact, she feels rather nauseous.

“Ah, Pepper, my dear,” she says, folding the newspaper and putting it aside – directly on top of the Lady Whistledown pamphlet, keeping Pepper from reading a single line. She can’t tell if that was on purpose or not. It takes a lot more effort than she likes to not scrunch her face up in displeasure (she never scrunches up her face, for it is not fit for a lady. Usually, Pepper prefers a set of nuanced sighs to make her displeasure known). “Have you slept well? You must have been tired.”

“I was tired,” she says because it is the only thing that is true, even though she has no right to be tired, given how early she and James arrived back at their home. Surely, Lady Rhodes must have noticed them coming back even with the headache she had.

“I assume you had an eventful evening then.”

Immediately, Pepper freezes up and her eyes snap towards Lady Rhodes who is still smiling. “What?” Her heart stutters as phantom lips travel from her mouth to her neck and her stomach leaps to her throat, making the piece of toast look entirely unappetizing.

Did James tell her? Or did someone else see them and spread rumours? Or – perhaps the worst of all – did Lady Whistledown find out and wrote about it? Does all of London already know of the indecency?

Lady Rhodes is still smiling as she sets down her cup. “Please, Pepper, stop tantalising me. Are you yet engaged?”

“Engaged?” she echoes, and the simple word turns all of her insides into ice. A lump forms in her throat as she remembers Tony’s strange decidedness that he won’t marry her, even though she could have sworn that his feelings for run deeper than mere friendship or lust. The look in his eyes was too similar to the one in the late Lord Rhodes’ or Lord Romanoff’s eyes when they look at their wives.

“Do we need to call you a princess soon?” Lady Rhodes pulls her eyebrows together in confusion. “Are you well, my dear? You seem a bit confused.”

It takes a surprising amount of restrain to keep herself from releasing a relieved sigh. Lady Rhodes is talking about Prince Steve, not Tony. Truth be told, Pepper has forgotten all about the prince and the question she ran away from. Now that she thinks back to it, it almost seems a lifetime ago, not a few hours.

“No, I’m not engaged. No need to call me anything but my name,” Pepper eventually says, trying to lighten the mood. “I was starting to feel unwell before he could ask me. But I do feel better now,” she quickly adds, not wanting to worry the lady any further.

“Well, don’t worry. I am sure he will ask you again.”

Perhaps Lady Rhodes shouldn’t have said those words, for fate has been listening. Pepper only has the chance to give her a small smile, ignoring the question if she would be ready to give Prince Steve an answer or not, before Humboldt enters the room. “There’s a visitor for Miss Potts waiting in the sitting room.”

“A visitor? This early?” Lady Rhodes asks. It isn’t that early, considering how long Pepper slept, but it is still quite early for anyone to call on her. Maybe it is Natasha or Yelena. They always have a way to cheer her up, as well as give her a new perspective on her problems – most of those perspectives involve violence, but Pepper has learnt to deal with them. And perhaps one day, if the situation calls for it, she might even embrace their different approaches.

Humboldt nods. “Yes. His Highness Prince Steve Rogers.”

“What?” Pepper breathes as Lady Rhodes gasps. A sense of panic takes hold of her. Suddenly, she is very aware that she isn’t ready to give the prince an answer; it would be the wrong one. “He is- He is here?”

“Yes, Miss Potts.”

“Tell him she will be with him shortly,” Lady Rhodes says as Pepper stays quiet. Humboldt nods once more before he leaves, and Lady Rhodes reaches out to take her hand. “This is good news! I am certain he will propose to you now!”

“I cannot face him,” she says, still staring at the now empty doorway.

“I know you’re not wearing your finest dress, but he did arrive unannounced in the early morning. I’m sure the prince will forgive-”

“I’m not talking about the dress.” Pepper turns around, looking straight at the woman who has been her mother for so many years now. “I cannot talk to him.”

Lady Rhodes starts a question, but stops herself as she notices the panicked expression in her eyes. Immediately, she grabs Pepper’s hand with both of her own, squeezing them once. “What is the matter? Talk to me, dear. We will find a solution.”

“I-I can’t-… I don’t-”

“Breathe, Pepper. Take your time. His Highness can wait.”

Strangely enough, the permission to ignore perfect manners and let Prince Steve wait does calm Pepper down enough to order her thoughts and express them. “He will propose to me.”

“Most likely.” Lady Rhodes keeps looking at her, eyes jumping over her face in concern. It takes her merely a few seconds to realize what the cause of Pepper’s panic is. “You don’t want to accept it.”

“Would that be terrible?” Pepper whispers, unwilling to speak out that thought too loud. Her voice is frail, and she knows it’s only a matter of time before it breaks.

Lady Rhodes’ expression turns soft, and she kneels down next to Pepper, still clutching her hands. “No, Pepper, of course not.”

“He is a prince.”

“It is merely a title. The man behind that title is much more important.”

“I told myself I would make you proud,” Pepper confesses, blinking tears away. “You have been so extraordinarily kind to me, and the only way I can repay you is by marrying well, to bring pride to your name.”

For a second, the soft smile turns into a hard line before Lady Rhodes leans a bit closer, urging Pepper to keep her entire attention on her. “Listen to me. You don’t have to repay us in any way, now or in the future. You’re our family, my dear. You’re my daughter. And all I, and my dear husband and your brother, want is for you to be happy. If marrying Prince Steve won’t make you happy, then don’t marry him. The only reason why you should accept the proposal of a man is because you love him truly and deeply. The kind of love that puts Shakespeare’s tales and the greatest Greek love stories to shame, that makes everyone jealous who catches a glance of you, that makes you feel alive and happy, and that feels right. No reason less than that.”

“And if-if he doesn’t love me back like that?”

“Then he is a fool and doesn’t deserve your hand or attention. You shouldn’t settle for anything less than that.”

Pepper can’t help herself; a humourless laugh escapes her lips. However, she is quite certain that if she doesn’t laugh, she will start to cry. “Then I might end never marrying at all.”

Lady Rhodes smiles, brushing a curl behind Pepper’s ear. “While I do doubt that, don’t think that we would be angry at you for that. Being married isn’t the only thing in life, there is plenty more to do. And only because the ton thinks you should marry, doesn’t mean you have to. Not if you’re not marrying for love.”

The words should have filled Pepper with dread, hearing that the goal she had been chasing for almost all of her life is being dismantled so easily, but instead she is only feeling relief. She is free to do whatever her heart desires to do. She could travel, she could go to university (if they start seeing sense and allowing women at their schools), she could work and plan and organize, and experience life in all its highs and depths to her own liking. Perhaps she might even marry and have children, though not unless she finds someone who wants the same things as she does.

And perhaps Pepper should listen more to the extraordinary women in her life, to Lady Rhodes, the Romanoffs, and Lady Carter, than listening to the rules of society that make less and less sense the longer one thinks about them.

With a smile, Pepper wipes away the single tear that has gathered in the corner of her eye, and gives Lady Rhodes a genuine smile. “Thank you. Mother.”

She smiles back, squeezing her hands a final time. “There is no need to thank me, my dear.”

“I will go see Prince Steve now,” she declares as she stands up and smooths the non-existing wrinkles out of her dress. Lady Rhodes nods, reaching back for her cup of tea.

With quick steps, Pepper makes her way to the sitting room, unwilling to delay this any longer. Strangely enough, she doesn’t feel the dreadful nervousness from the night before, in fact, she doesn’t feel nervous at all. Yes, there’s curiosity about how Prince Steve will react, but she herself is certain. Pepper won’t marry the prince.

Prince Steve is standing in the middle of the sitting room, arms behind his back and looking out of the window with an intimidating kind of intensity, and as soon as she enters, his spine straightens up and he bows slightly, which she mirrors with a curtsy. “Miss Potts, I apologise for my unannounced and early arrival.”

“You have nothing to apologise for, Your Highness.” As subtle as she can, Pepper takes a deep breath before meeting the prince’s eyes. Her time of stalling is over; it has never been a habit of hers anyway. No need to start it now of all times. “If anyone has to apologise, it is me. Even though I told you I wasn’t running away from you, I had been running. And for that I want to apologise.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I know you were going to propose to me,” she interrupts him, her tone steady.

Prince Steve freezes, eyes locked onto her, searching for the real meaning behind her words. It doesn’t take him long to find it. “You would have rejected me.”

“No,” she says truthfully. “Yesterday, I would have said yes.”

“But you wouldn’t have wanted to say yes.”

Pepper shakes her head in agreement. “A woman has traditionally merely one way of being seen as successful, and that is by finding a good marriage match. I thought the only way I could make my family proud is by finding the best match of the season.”

“Which is me,” Prince Steve concludes, a small smile on his face that has nothing to do with happiness, yet Pepper couldn’t say what it was instead.

“I deeply apologise for leading you on,” she says honestly, and she takes a step closer to him, hoping he will recognize her next words as genuine. “Prince Steve, you are a good, kind man, and I enjoyed our conversations. I also believe we would have a very content life together.”

“If you continue like this, I might start thinking you will be the one doing the proposing,” he jests, and it’s a relief to hear the slight amusement in his voice. “A man could get used to these compliments.”

“I ache for more than a content life, Your Highness. And I won’t marry for anything but love, even if that means I won’t marry at all.” She pauses, thinking if her next words might be too rude, but considering how rude she has been since she entered the room – rejecting a prince in a very non-gentle matte – she might as well continue. “Do you truly wish to marry me?” The prince looks like he wants to answer, but she isn’t finished. “For love, I mean. Do you love me and that is why you want to marry me?”

For a moment, she thinks he might say what all the other men said who have already proposed to her; that she is beautiful (it is always the first, as if it is the most important, and she supposes that for most men, it is the most important thing in a wife) and a polite conversationist and a talented musician and that he has fallen head over heels for her and can’t imagine a life without her. But instead, he is smiling again, and this time it looks like they share a secret. “You are not the only one under pressure to marry, and I do share your belief that we would have a content life together. But I also believe that we both deserve more than that.”

“We do,” Pepper agrees with a smile, relieved that she somehow found an ally in the strangest of ways.

“I do hope we can remain friends, Miss Potts, because I truly enjoyed your company.”

“My friends call me Pepper.”

“Pepper,” he smiles and nods. “Then I must insist that you simply call me Steve.”

“That seems terribly improper.”

“Well, then it would appear it fits in rather well with the rest of our conversation.” They share a chuckle, and Pepper is relieved how surprisingly well this conversation is going. She expected a bruised ego and a cold shoulder at the very least; and now she made a new friend. “If you don’t mind me asking… is there a gentleman whose proposal you would accept, should he propose right now?”

Maybe she should have waited to be so quick to accept Steve as a friend. He seems to like asking questions she doesn’t want to answer (then again, it appears to be a trait all of her friends share. What does that say about her ability to choose friends?). Pepper sighs, her eyes moving towards the window. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Truth be told, I was quite surprised that Lord Stark hasn’t proposed to you yet.” Immediately, her eyes snap back to Steve who has the nerve to smirk at her. “You cannot be surprised that I know of Lord Stark’s affection for you. It was impossible to miss. Not to mention the many rumours and tales I heard once I reached London. I thought he would claw my eyes out when I asked you to dance.”

“He had been awfully rude to you,” Pepper says, pressing her lips together as she thinks back to that gallery opening. Then, she glances at the slightly ajar door – it would be quite scandalous to leave them alone in a room with a closed door –, hoping that no one is listening in. “Lord Stark and I had agreed to a ruse to benefit us both. His attention made me worthy of other gentlemen’s attention, and he could play the fool in love to avoid matchmaking. The courtship hasn’t been real.”

“Until your feelings changed.” Steve doesn’t form it like a question, but his voice is gentle. A part of Pepper wonders why everyone sees so easily through the ruse, why they caught on to the biggest problem of pretending to be in love so quickly while it took Pepper so long.

It hurts, because it means that Tony and her simply had been too blind to see what everyone else was seeing from the very beginning.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she repeats. “He can’t marry me, and I refuse to chase someone who doesn’t want me.”

Steve cocks his head to the side. “Which one is it?”

“What?”

“He can’t marry you or he doesn’t want to marry you? Which one?”

Pepper blinks. “What difference does it make? It means the same thing.”

“I may not be well acquainted with Lord Stark, but for all his clever words and hidden barbs, I do believe he is a man who is forward with what he wants. One only has to listen close enough. If he said that he doesn’t want to marry you, he is a fool in denial. If he said that he can’t marry you, then he clearly wants to but there’s something keeping him from proposing.”

A breath hitches in her throat as she thinks over Steve’s words, and thinks back to the evening. Tony kept repeating that he cannot marry her, but she has been too caged in by her hurt and fury and confusion about the dichotomy of his words and actions that she didn’t think more about it. Before, he always insisted that he won’t marry, but he never said that he doesn’t want to marry, he simply presented it like an unchangeable fact without giving away the reason behind it.

Her heart is picking up its pace, filling her with misplaced hope with each beat. “But he won’t propose to me,” Pepper says, her voice barely above a whisper.

Steve smiles again. “Pepper, you don’t seem like a woman who simply waits around for someone to do something, instead of doing it herself.”

Pepper can’t help herself: she snorts at it. Partly because she can’t believe she hasn’t thought of all of this herself, and partly because she someone once again managed to befriend someone who doesn’t seem to care about what is proper and what isn’t. “I do hope that I will be allowed to write to you once you leave town.”

“I insist on that. And there will always be a guestroom available at my home, if you wish it.” A small smirk steals itself back on his face. “I also have several friends who would love to make fools out of themselves at the chance to try to make you fall in love with them, should you wish to look for a husband. At the very least, it would be very entertaining for me to watch.”

“I suppose I should extend the same offer to you,” Pepper says through her smile, not nearly as annoyed by him already making attempts at matchmaking as she thought she would be. She knows he wouldn’t do anything until she clearly expressed her wishes for it. “But the only friends I have that are looking for a husband are Natasha and Yelena Romanoff, and I’m not quite certain if it really be a favour in good spirits to arrange more private meetings for you with them.” She also doesn’t know if they’re truly looking for a husband at all or simply something to do that will help them pass the time.

It is quite amusing how fast the colour drains from his face. “No. No, I don’t think I’m ready for such a meeting.” And then, he adds under his breath, clearly only meant for his own ears, “I don’t think I will ever be ready for that.”

Pepper can’t help but chuckle as a companionable warmth fills her chest. “I’ll look forward to seeing you again, Steve.” And she truly means it.

Steve bows and takes her hand, pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles, a move that is more habit than anything else. “As do I. I wish you all the best, Pepper.”

Then, he leaves the house in quick steps, leaving Pepper behind who feels so much lighter than she has in days – and with a new idea. One that is most likely improper and make her the scandalous talk of the town, but as the past few weeks have proven her, the scandalous ideas make her the happiest.

“Humboldt,” she calls out once she sees the man pass by, “please tell someone to ready my horse. I need to visit a friend.” Humboldt mumbles a of course, Miss Potts as she already makes her way to change into something more suitable for riding.


“Good day, Lady Potts!” Peter greets her with a wide smile as she stops her horse in front of Lady Carter’s home. The boy has been in the stables, but came running once he recognized her, all too willing to hold onto the reins of her horse as she climbed down. Domi and U are with him, running circles around them, their tails wagging excitingly.

“Good day, Peter,” she greets him back, genuinely pleased to see him, as she bends down to pet the dogs.

“Are you here to see Lord Stark?”

It seems like the boy hasn’t learned more about being tactful and discrete, which only makes him more endearing. At least, for now. She is quite certain that habit will prove to be annoying over time. “Indeed I am. I suppose he is in his smithery.”

“Yes, Lady Potts.” He looks over to her horse, running a hand down her neck, and smiles as the animals bumps her head carefully against his cheek. “I will take good care of your mare, Lady Potts.”

“I have no doubt in that.” Giving him one more smile and the dogs another scratch behind their ears, Pepper makes her way towards the small house in the garden, hearing Peter call the dogs to his side. To her surprise, they even listen to him; it would appear they obeying Peter more than Tony. Smoke curls its way out of the chimney, but she doesn’t hear any sounds coming from the smithery that would indicate he is working.

Pulling her shoulders back and ignoring the swirling nervousness that is slowly spreading throughout her stomach, Pepper raises to her full height before she knocks against the door. There’s no answer, so she knocks again. And again. She is seriously considering just opening the door and striding inside, when it finally swings open.

The slightly murderous look on Tony’s face lasts for merely a second before it turns into one of pure confusion. His coat is missing, his vest only half-buttoned up, and his hair looks even more untamed than usual. A bruise starts to form where James had punched him the night before, but for now it’s nothing more than a slight discolouration of his skin, easily hidden with a bit of powder if he would care to try.

Pepper tries her best to ignore the way her heartbeat quickens at the sight of him, and quells the urge to let her eyes drop to his lips. Taking advantage of his surprise, she pushes him far enough to the side (stubbornly ignoring the warmth of his body as she presses her hand against his chest to move him) to be able to enter the little cottage. Inside is an even greater mess than the one from the last time she had been here, which she didn’t think was possible. Her fingers twitch with the need to tidy up and make sense of this mess, and to keep them still she takes off her gloves and grips them tightly. “It is rude to keep your guest waiting.”

“I wasn’t aware I was receiving a guest,” he eventually says, but doesn’t move from the still open door.

“One should always be prepared to receive guests.”

“Well, in that case, should I call for some tea and biscuits?”

“No,” she says, turning around to face him again, and paying his harsh tone no mind. She is well aware that Tony pushes people away by being prickly, but she came too far to be stopped by something like that.

Tony doesn’t flinch away from her gaze, makes a point of pushes his chin forward. “Then would you tell me why you’re here in the first place?”

“Isn’t it obvious? To talk about yesterday.”

His jaw sets in a hard way as he finally closes the door, coming to the very sensible realisation that this conversation is only meant for a few ears. Only their ears, to be exact. A deafening, swallowing, suffocating silence stretches between them that hasn’t existed before, not even the night before when they had been arguing. It makes Pepper nervous.

And whenever she is nervous, she straightens her spine and follows through with her plan. “We have to talk.”

“So you’ve said,” Tony says before his eyes move away, turning himself into the perfect picture of indifference. As if it had no meaning to him if they talk or not. “However, I don’t see what there is to talk about it. Everything has been said.”

Nothing has been said.”

“Oh? Did we have different conversations, then? Because I remember quite clearly what we all agreed upon.”

Agreed upon would imply that we all had a say in the decision that was being made,” Pepper says, her words clipped and sharp in her anger.

“And you did agree. You told your brother that a duel is unnecessary.”

“What I did was save your foolish life! James is a better marksman than you, and he felt angry and betrayed enough that he would have truly aimed at you.” It looks like Tony has more to say – because of course he has, that man doesn’t know how not to talk – but she doesn’t let him. “I came here to as you a question. Just one. And if you promise to answer truthfully… I will leave and never speak to you again, if that is what you wish.”

Even as her heart is thundering in her chest and her nervousness makes her all but sick, Pepper keeps her head high as Tony regards her with a look in her eyes she cannot place. It’s suspicion with a hint of something else – maybe longing or sadness. She doesn’t take the time to find out what expression it is. If she did, she might not follow through.

Eventually, Tony makes a decision, sticking his chin out, and waving a hand through the air almost dismissively. “Very well. Ask your question.”

Out of fear that it might shake, Pepper doesn’t take a deep breath. Instead, the words that have been tormenting her ever since Steve left the sitting room escape her lips. “Why won’t you marry me?”

He blinks at her, and she thinks someone as clever as him as must have anticipated that question. It takes him a moment to regain his bearings, and even then he somehow looks shaken. In a gesture he doesn’t seem to be aware of, he starts to massage his left wrist. “I am fairly certain that I told you already.”

“No, you haven’t. You declared you won’t marry, neither me nor anyone else, but you never told me why.”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does,” Pepper insists and takes a step forward. Her heart is beating in her chest, and she can’t decide if she wants to be closer to him to hit him or to pull him down and- “Because it matters to me. And I believe I deserve an answer at the very least.”

“Pepper, I-” Tony sighs as his mouth shuts, jaw tight. He looks like he might try to jump out of the window, just to escape this conversation. Pepper raises an eyebrow, and to her surprise, he immediately stills – except for his eyes that are jumping all over her face. “I can’t marry you.”

He said can’t, not doesn’t want to. It is enough to make her heart flutter, to nurture the hope that keeps building in her chest. A part of her has already prematurely declared this the greatest day of her life, no matter how often she tries to push that thought away, to stay realistic and wait how all of this will turn out. “And why can’t you marry me?”

Tony looks at her in confusion. “What do you mean? I told you, I can’t.”

“But what is the reason? There has to be one, if you’re so sure of it.”

“You wouldn’t-”

“Because rest assured, that if you’re afraid of me rejecting you, you don’t have to be.” The words tumble out of her mouth before she can even think about it, edged on by the hope that everything will be well if she is simply brave and forward enough to voice her wishes and desires. His eyes snap to her, his mouth gaping. A small smile steals itself onto her face; a quivering little thing that betrays her nerves. “Tony, if you would propose to me, I would say yes. All you have to do is ask.”

Even though Pepper has never been like other young ladies who devoured romance novels that have them swoon and wish for a love just as dramatic – and unrealistic – as the ones in those novels, she has wondered about her first love confession. She had certain expectations, of course, realistic ones, and she never expected it to be this; an indirect confession by all but demanding from him that he will propose to her.

And yet she can’t help but feel a certain giddiness take a hold of her. Mostly because her words have been true. Should Tony even utter those words to her, without going down on a knee or having a ring or asking James or Lady Rhodes beforehand, Pepper would immediately accept, there’s no doubt in her mind.

Tony stares at her with wide eyes and a slack jaw, utterly speechless. She wonders what is going through his mind, if he thinks that this might be a jest or an especially cruel way for her to get her revenge. To reassure him of her intentions, she steps even closer, close enough that she can reach out and take his hand, giving it a squeeze. Her eyes are never leaving his. “I would say yes.”

The emotions behind his eyes change, and for a second, she thinks he might actually ask her – it would somehow be fitting, she decides, for him to ask such a question in the most unusual way there is – but then the look changes again. This time, it’s not difficult to know what he’s feeling.

This time, the hurt is written all over his face. “Pepper, I can’t.”

There’s a stabbing pain in her chest, but she doesn’t crumble. She didn’t come this far to simply give up now. “Why?”

“Because you deserve everything you ever wish for in life. Everything you have ever imagined wanting and so much more. You deserve a husband who worships you and the ground you walk on, who makes it his greatest ambition in life to make you happy, and who makes every one of your wishes his command. You deserve the world.”

The words would have made her blush, if his voice wouldn’t sound so broken. “And you’re not willing to give me that? To be that person?”

“I would give both of my hands to give you that,” he says with a humourless huff, and before she can even begin to process his words, he continues. “But I can’t give you that.” He pauses. Swallows once. His eyes are full of pain. “I cannot give you children.”

From everything she imagined, from all the possible reasons she could think of why he would avoid a marriage to her, even though he clearly desired her to some extent (more than that, if the words he just spoke are true), she hadn’t thought of this. For a terrible long moment, she can simply stare at him, stare at his pained expression, as suddenly everything made sense.

At first, Pepper had thought Tony simply wanted to avoid getting married – to her or anyone – because he enjoyed his rakish ways and having his freedom as he pleases. Then, she thought it was because he took the responsibility of being a duke seriously, and wanted to concentrate on the task, and make up for what he has missed by staying away for so long. However, that hadn’t explained why he wouldn’t tell her the real reason, especially after they formed their friendship. Surely, he must know that Pepper would support such ambitions.

But this… This simply breaks her heart.

When she first witnessed Tony’s behaviour around the young Parker boy and his dogs, she found it odd, yet endearing. The strange, fatherly behaviour seemed so at odds with the man he tried to represent, but the more time she spent with him, the more she realized that the private version of him is the real man, not the one the ton sees. Tony cares deeply about the people he holds close to his heart – he simply has the most curious ways of showing it. More than once she thought that he would make a good father. Perhaps not a strict one, but one that would never fail to make his children smile and help them learn. Judging by the way his entire face always lit up when he talked about the mischief he and Peter created in the smithery, or when he’s telling a story about how the hounds chased him through the entire garden, she believes he would enjoy it immensely.

And now she finds out that he can never have that.

Truth be told, while Pepper does know more about the marital activities between a husband and a wife than it is proper for a young woman, she is by no means all-knowing. She doesn’t know how a man knows he can’t have children – or even how women will know it – but she can only imagine how heart breaking that news must have been for him. Clearly, that is why he holds Peter and the dogs so dear; a replacement for the children he cannot have.

If he marries, everyone would expect him to have at least one heir. They would never stop asking about it, constantly reminding him of something he cannot have. Would he have even told his wife? Considering how hesitant he’d been to share this with her, Pepper can’t imagine it being a conversation he wants to have. A secret like that could destroy whatever happiness they managed to gain. It’s no surprise that Tony chose to simply refuse marrying all together instead of putting all that misery on himself.

Her heart aches for him in ways she didn’t know was possible. However, it only strengthens her resolve. She won’t let him burden this pain all by himself. Not when it is in her power to do something about it. She cares too much about him to do anything else.

Squeezing his hands again, Pepper urges Tony to turn his gaze back to her – in the last minutes, he found a spot to the left of her head quite fascinating. When he keeps staring away, she continues. “That doesn’t matter to me.”

That certainly got his attention. His head whips around to her, and he looks at her with big eyes that continue to grow as his mouth opens and closes like a fish on dry land. Pepper doesn’t look away and doesn’t say anything, giving him the time to process what she just said. “But… you want a family.”

“There are many ways to have a family.” Even though they can never have their own, biological children, that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t have children at all. They could take in orphaned children, like the Rhodes did with Pepper. They could take in as many dogs as the Hasting estate will hold. Besides, Pepper is quite certain that once James takes his duty as a viscount more seriously and eventually marries, he will have a little hoard of children, all to happy to send some of them to his sister for some peace of mind. She isn’t sure if any of the Romanoff sisters will ever settle down and have children, but Pepper hopes they wouldn’t mind sending them to her to spend summers in the countryside either.

Tony still stares at her like she just said the most absurd thing. “You said you have a plan for your future, and I’m not letting you change that plan just because of me.”

“These past few days, I thought a lot about my future. Especially today. I know that I can’t have everything that I planned to have, thinking anything else would be nothing but foolish dreams. I have to make some compromises and give up some of those things.” Pepper takes a deep breath, and grips his hands even tighter, though this time it is more for her benefit than his. “But, Tony, the one thing I’m not willing to give up is you.”

“Pepper,” he whispers so softly, she doesn’t know if he is even aware of it.

“So, please tell me what other reasons there might be for us not to get married, because I’m willing to prove that-”

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence, because Tony leaned forward and captured her lips with his, one hand flying up to cradle her jaw. The kiss is nothing like the one from the night before. It is less frantic, but not less burning. Pepper can’t stop the smile that starts to spread across her face as her stomach lurches around, but Tony doesn’t seem to mind, simply holding her closer until their chests are pressed together, his lips never moving too far from hers.

“If this is a dream, I never want to wake up,” he says against her lips, still unwilling to move even a fraction of an inch.

Pepper’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Her heart feels like it’s too big to fit into her chest. “It’s not a dream.”

“I will give you the world,” he vows, pressing his forehead against hers. “I will give you whatever you want. And if it doesn’t exist, I will create it for you. Anything to make up for the fact that I won’t give you children.”

Immediately, she stills.

On any other day, Pepper wouldn’t have paid attention to that one little word. After all, it still basically meant the same thing. And perhaps it was simply a slip of his tongue or a rushed thought that had him not pay attention to what he was saying.

But because the exact meaning of those little words meant so much to her already once today, she simply cannot ignore it.

A cold hand grips the happiness that has just been flowing through her veins. Carefully, she leans back until she can look into Tony’s eyes. “Won’t or can’t?”

“What?” he asks, though it doesn’t sound like he is paying as much attention as he should.

Pepper takes a step back. That seems to make it clear to him that she wants to talk about something important, because a sober expression crosses over his face. “Which one is it? You cannot or will not have children?”

“Does it matter?” he asks. Slowly, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. He reaches out to her, but Pepper simply takes another step back. A bad feeling settles inside her bones. Something is wrong. And she cannot continue this unless she knows what it is. “It means the same thing.”

“No, it doesn’t. One means you are unable to have children and the other means you are unwilling to have children.”

There’s a quick jest on the tip on his tongue, Pepper can practically feel it, but Tony halts, looking at her. “You’re serious about this.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

Thoughts are running through his mind, Pepper can see them flashing in his eyes, but they’re too fast for her to decipher. His posture stiffens and he raises his chin in a defensive manner, as if he is readying himself to fight. Pepper can’t help but do the same.

It is almost unbelievable how fast the atmosphere between them shifted again and again.

Please say can’t. Please say can’t.

Her prayer is useless, of course. She knew it the second he wondered why she cared so much about one word.

“I won’t have children,” he declares, voice hard.

Pepper refuses to give a visible reaction to it. She feels a sense of betrayal about his wrong choice of words. A man as eloquent as him must surely be aware of the right use of words. “Why?”

“Because I made an oath that the Stark bloodline will die with me. I made that oath at the deathbed of the late duke, and I have no intention of breaking that promise.”

It feels like someone stole all the air out of her lungs. Before, she felt sympathy for the man who was unable to have what he so desperately desired – but that hasn’t been true. No, Tony chose this path himself. He made the decision to deny himself fatherhood to keep a promise to his father; a man that, as far as Pepper knows, had not had an ounce of respect for his son.

Tony chose bitterness and pettiness instead of following his heart.

And that doesn’t make Pepper feel sympathy for him. It makes her angry.

“Why does it matter?” he asks as his face slowly morphs into a mask of anger – and a slither of hurt. “Why does it matter if I can’t have children or don’t want children?”

Pepper shakes her head, not willing to meet his eyes right now. “It’s not about children.”

He laughs, but it’s a cold and cruel sound. “It isn’t? Then enlighten me what it is about, because I seem to be lost.”

“It’s about the reason behind it,” she hisses, looking back at him. For a moment, he looks taken aback, but that expression quickly changes back to a mask of blank emotionlessness. “If you can look me in the eyes and truly tell me that you have never looked at a child and wished to have one of your own, that you have no desire at all to have children of your own, then the reason doesn’t matter. But I doubt you can.”

Tony stays quiet, his jaw tight. At least he has the decency not to lie to her about it.

“I made an oath,” he repeats. “And a gentleman keeps his word.”

Oh, how much she wants to reach out and shake some sense in him. “Does that really matter if only one of the two people who heard that promise is still alive? And you are the only one suffering?”

“So, you’re expecting me to simply break my word because you want it?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“And yet this entire conversation seems to be centred around your wishes,” Tony says in a sharp voice. “Your wish of having children, of marrying me, of making me break my word.”

Pepper is slowly losing her patience. “My wish is for you to prioritize yourself! Your own happiness!”

“Perhaps it makes me happy to keep my vow!”

“Why would you choose to keep it when-”

“Because he deserves it!” he all but screams, silencing her at once. “He was a man obsessed with his reputation and his legacy; so much so, that he would rather have the world think I was dead instead of having me associated with me, all because I couldn’t speak the way he wanted me to! I have absolutely no desire to give that man anything that would make him proud, even after his death.”

For a moment, Pepper is too stunned to speak, watching Tony breathe heavily, his anger still radiating off of him. Never before has she seen him this furious. There is a lot to process in his words, things that raise more questions than they give answers, but she can’t find it in her to form those questions.

Taking deep breaths, the duke tries to calm down. His hands are still shaking when he speaks, his voice still dripping in anger, his eyes burning with something haunted. “I vowed that I would never marry and have children. That the Stark name would die with me. I am already breaking that vow by marrying you, and I’m not about to break the other half of it.”

Her nose tickles as she comes to a realisation that makes her heart break in a million tiny pieces. She cannot marry Tony – no, she will not marry him. Because she loves him. Loves him more deeply than she is comfortable admitting to anyone. And because of that love, she cannot spend the rest of her life watching him choose hatred and revenger and bitterness over himself; something that will leave a heavy mark on him without a doubt, turn him into a version of him that is so completely different from the man she knows and loves. It will break her heart and her soul and her happiness, she knows that.

And she loves and respects herself enough to not put herself through that.

Refusing to show the turmoil of emotions inside of her, Pepper raises her chin and wills her eyes to dry the wetness gathering in them. “Well, Lord Stark, it is my pleasure to inform you that you will breaking not a single part of the vow you hold so dearly,” she says in an even voice.

Tony blinks. “Whatever do you mean? You said you would marry me, should I propose.”

“But you haven’t proposed and I haven’t said yes. And before you do something hasty and foolish,” she raises her hand to stop him from continuing, “let me tell you that I have changed my mind, given the conversation we just had. I won’t accept a proposal from you.” 

The look on his face is enough to break her heart all over again, but it quickly morphs into something angry and hurt, different than the one from just a moment ago but not less intense. “I didn’t take you for someone who changes their mind so quick.”

“I do when I find out the true reasons behind certain decisions.”

“So, all the time that we spent together means so little that you would cut me out of your life so easily-”

“Don’t act like you haven’t been the one who did it first!”

“-because I don’t want children?”

“It is not about children!” Pepper throws her hands in the air in frustration, partly because Tony refuses to listen to what she is saying, and partly because he has used yet another word (which is especially frustrating, because she has this deep feeling that he wants children, but he is not admitting that because of his stubborn promise) to talk about the issue that started the entire fight. “I am tired of trying to explain something to you that you refuse to understand.”

“There is nothing to understand.”

“Which is why I will take my leave now,” she says, walking past him towards the door in brisk steps, taking advantage of Tony’s confusion.

She is already at the door when he seems to finally find the will to react. Tony reaches out, trying to grab her arm, but she quickly pulls it away, already putting her gloves back on. Clearly, he is trying to keep his voice calm, trying to sound reasonable, but the anger is still there, brewing underneath the surface, ready to explode at any given moment. “Pepper, I believe we should talk-”

“We did talk,” she cuts him off, “and we realized our believes differ in fundamental ways. A union between us wouldn’t have been a happy one. Not over the years. Good day, Lord Stark.”

This time, Tony doesn’t try to stop her.

A part of Pepper wishes he would have. A different part tells her that this is better this way. She doesn’t know which part to listen to.

There’s a tiny voice at the back of her that is scolding her for rejecting Steve so thoroughly. Perhaps she will take up his offer of visiting his home and meeting his friends a lot sooner than she expected. A bit of time away from London and a certain duke can only be good for her.

The entire journey back home, Pepper slips a careful mask on her face that doesn’t crack the tiniest bit. Not when she passes the Romanoff family on a walk, not when Humboldt asks her if she enjoyed her ride, not when Lady Rhodes gives her a meaningful look, not when James asks her where she has been and what she has been doing.

No, she only allows herself to let her heart break in tiny pieces when she lays in her bed with the curtains pulled close, the covers up to her chin, and her face pressed in the pillow to stifle her sobs.

Notes:

Tag yourself, I'm Steve being afraid of Natasha and Yelena. As anyone should be.

One thing in Bridgerton that really annoyed me was Daphne's behaviour after her wedding. I believe a 'I don't want children' should be respected just as much as a 'I can't have children', and Daphne acting like Simon somehow betrayed her - even though he told her he can't have children and was willing to die for her honour, and then she announced they would get married and said he is enough for her - annoyed me to no end. It still annoys me.
So, I tried to make Pepper's and Tony's argument about something else, about Tony holding on to bitterness instead of letting go of that, and yet make them miscommunicate so much that they would argue. If anyone is unhappy with how this argument went, please know that I had the urge to talk things out during that argument several times. But in the end, I actually do think it somewhat aligns with their MCU version, aka Pepper saying "I'm not watching you kill yourself" in IM1 and them taking a break in Civil War because Tony couldn't stop being Iron Man.

Anyway. Please let me know what you think! I would love to hear your thoughts! Also: who is excited for the final chapter?

Chapter 13: Promises Kept and Promises Forgotten

Notes:

Hi my friends :)

This is it! The last chapter! I'm honestly a bit floored to have reached the end with this. Halfway through writing this fic, I had the idea of writing a spin-off about the Romanoffs planning everyone's murder while occassionally drinking tea.

Anyway: heads-up for a dramatic and heartbroken Tony.

Enjoy the last chapter! :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Tony likes to think himself a man who knows suffering. He had been shot in the chest and nursed back to life in a cot in the middle of nowhere – there aren’t many who can claim to have experienced the same.

Yet none of the pain he has ever felt quite compared he felt to the pain that spread through ever single fibre of his being after Pepper left.

Again and again, he tries to figure out when control slipped through his fingers like sand, and after many, many hours of pondering about it, he realizes that it started at the very beginning when he first met Pepper. Because it would be impossible for him not to fall in love with her, however long it might have taken.

The last 24 hours haven’t gone as planned, more like a destructive whirlwind than the boring breeze he envisioned. Tony’s plan had been to spend some time at the ball and talk to a few gentlemen, just enough to pacify Lady Carter; but then he saw Pepper dancing with the prince, saw the panic in her eyes and the nervousness in the prince as he tried to ask something. Everyone in the room knew what he was about to ask – and it wasn’t difficult for Tony to put the pieces together after witnessing James and the prince talk at the club –, and yet nobody seemed to have caught even a fraction of their conversation. As Pepper fled to the gardens, Tony has been genuinely concerned for her, fearing she might be in need of assistance.

But as soon as he spoke up and made his presence known to her, everything derailed. He didn’t mean to argue with her. He didn’t mean to send her running into the gardens, he didn’t mean to chase her, and he didn’t mean to kiss her.

He’s not regretting it, though. God, he could never regret kissing her, not when it filled him with so much joy and warmth and passion and a sense of belonging that he had never felt before. Not when he felt so much more love than he had ever felt before.

And then he insisted he couldn’t marry her when James caught them. It broke her heart; he knew it without even looking at her, because his words broke his just the same. Clearly, she must have thought that his actions meant he changed his mind, and a part of him wishes he could change his mind.

He can’t. Tony has been holding on to that promise for so long and with such intent, it sometimes feels like it is the only thing about him that stays true.

He expected to hear news of a royal engagement – instead, during midday, Pepper knocked against his smithery. It had been like a dream. First, one that seemed too good to be true, and then a nightmare.

Now, hours after the sun set (though it feels like days have passed, each second stretched into an eternity), Tony still can’t make sense of their conversation. It went all so well, to his immense surprise. Pepper said she wasn’t willing to give him up; and then she did give him up when she learned about his promise. He can’t understand why she had been so angry when she insisted that it wasn’t about the children (truth be told, it makes him think it is about the children, and she simply doesn’t want to admit it). After all, he is willing to break a part of the vow to marry her – why must she insist on breaking the rest of that vow as well?

The forming bruise on his face throbs painfully. His eyes wander towards the bottle sitting in the middle of the table. He had a servant bring a bottle of scotch to him, but he hasn’t touched it yet. There’s the need to drown the never-ending pain in his chest with the liquor, and then there’s the fear that something bad might happen if he does drink it.

Though, he cannot say how this could get any worse.

He should have stayed in Hastings, alone in that big, empty house, being consumed by loneliness. At least then he never would have met Pepper again and wouldn’t be plagued by her ghost for the rest of his life.

Once again, he comes the conclusion that all this trouble started when he met Pepper. At least his deduction skills haven’t been influenced by his mood.

By the Lord, he already misses her. Every other thought he has is about chasing after her and do something to make amends. And he would do it in a heartbeat – if he knew how without breaking his vow. Why must she be so stubborn about this? Why can’t she accept how important it is to him?

Suddenly, the door flies open, and Tony has to blink a few times to make sure he isn’t simply hallucinating James standing there, looking at him with an unreadable expression. “Did you knock?” Tony simply asks, voice gravelly, because he truthfully cannot remember if there had been a knock he ignored or not.

“I think we’re past knocking,” his friend answers with clipped words.

However… is James still his friend? His tone and the tension in his body clearly say no. From the very beginning, he hasn’t been too keen about Tony courting Pepper, and last night he has been absolutely furious, demanding a duel against him that he knew he would win.

(Tony wouldn’t even have fought back. James is the better marksman – the better fighter in general – between them, that is true, and he would have known how to make his death as quick and painless as possible. Tony had bet on the lingering ruins of their friendship that the young lord would take pity on him and not protract his death.)

His heart aches once again. He has not only lost his love today, but his dearest friend as well. Or maybe he has already lost him the night before. It is quite difficult to keep track of all the things he has destroyed. There are so many – all done by his own hands. Tony wasn’t aware that he could be this (rightfully) cruel to himself without drinking.

“Are you here to take revenge for your family’s honour?” Tony asks and keeps his voice purposely unaffected, almost bored. With one hand, he reaches out towards the bottle, slightly spinning it around to keep his hands busy. One of his biggest tells has always been his fidgeting hands.

And judging by James’ eyes that stray towards the bottle for merely a moment, he hasn’t forgotten that tell, clearly seeing right through Tony’s façade.

“I’m here because I want to know what is going on between you and my sister,” he says, walking further into the small space after closing the door behind him. To Tony’s biggest surprise, he doesn’t seem angry. Yes, there’s a lingering tension in his shoulders, but that is always present when James talks about Pepper’s wellbeing. Tony half expects him to pull out a pistol and demand a duel right here and now; however, he doesn’t see any weapons on James. He also doesn’t seem like he is about to attack him with his bare hands.

If he’s not here to fight, then why is he here?

“I can say, from the deepest bottom of my heart, nothing is going on between us.” Not anymore.

His damned heart just won’t stop hurting, will it?

James shakes his head. He doesn’t look angry, more… tired. Disappointed. That’s even worse than angry. “You’re both incapable of having nothing between you.” Tony is about to make a comment about his anger from the night before, because he would rather deal with James’ fury than his pity, but he doesn’t get a chance to even open his mouth. “Pepper told me about your ruse.”

He waits for James to elaborate or do something. Surely, he must be angry that he roped Pepper in such a deceiving game. Then again, it also means that he has never truly courted her, and that should make James happy. In theory, at least, because James doesn’t look happy at all. He also doesn’t say anything else, filling Tony with an unwelcome nervousness.

“Do you have anything else to say or why are you here?” Tony eventually asks.

“I already said what I want. To know what is going on between you and Pepper.”

“And I told you that there is nothing between us. Which you should know, given that you just told me you know that the courtship has been nothing more than a game of pretend.” He pulls the bottle closer, staring at the calming colour. “Why aren’t you rejoicing over this? I am quite certain the prince will propose to Pepper, and she will undoubtedly accept, and then-”

“Prince Steve already paid us a visit for that very reason,” James interrupts him.

At once, Tony’s eyes snap to him as his chest clenches again. Is she already engaged? Did their fight drive her into his arms even faster? He supposes it has been inevitable. Pepper is a smart woman. She knows to make the right choice for her future. It just means that he has truly lost his chance to make this right – not that that chance has been in his favour. Most likely, his words would have enraged her even more. “Well, then I suppose congratulations are in order. You will be related to royalty.”

“She didn’t accept his proposal,” he says, ignoring every word Tony has just said. Tony’s heart, however, leaps towards his throat, and his fingers stop their work of spinning the bottle. “In fact, she didn’t even give him the time to propose, and rejected him quite firmly. It has been a very eventful morning.”

“It happened this morning?” Tony echoes.

“It did,” James confirms with a nod, as he pulls a chair closer and sits down on the opposite side of the table. “This morning, Pepper rejected the proposal of Prince Steve, which was immediately followed by her requesting a horse to go for a ride to meet a friend. And when she returned not long after, she was polite in ways that I know means she is truly devasted and unwilling to show it. She refuses to leave her room or let anyone enter it. So, I’m asking again,” he leans forward, putting his arms on the table and fixing Tony with a deep stare, “what is going on?”

For a moment, Tony thinks of deflecting, of pretending that he has not an inkling what all of that could be about – but he realizes he doesn’t want to. For once, he doesn’t want to lie about it, doesn’t want to pretend it doesn’t affect him, that he feels so much misery that he almost physically can’t stand it. And after every, Tony still considers James his closest friend, and he missed their easy friendship during the last weeks.

“Pepper came here,” he says in a flat tone.

“I figured as much,” James mutters. “What did she want?”

“She wanted to know why I won’t marry her, and when I told her the truth, she said the reason doesn’t matter and she would accept my proposal.” He thinks back to that moment, when he had been filled with so much wonder and adoration and love for that woman who seemed so determined to be with him; and then everything had been ruined. “At least, I thought I told her the truth, but when I told her about- … when I elaborated, she changed her mind and left.”

James tilts his head, considering his words for a moment. “What is the real reason why you don’t want to get married? You have never told me.”

“My father.” Even though Tony isn’t looking at him, he can all but feel the way James’ eyebrows shoot up. “He has been… cruel to me, and sent me away when he deemed me not good enough. If it hadn’t been for Lady Carter and her stubborn kindness, I most likely would have ended up being a nameless and penniless craftsman in some small town.” The fleeting thought of that wouldn’t have been so bad runs through his head, but then he realizes he wouldn’t have met James or Pepper that way, and that thought quickly vanishes. “He never acknowledged me, not as a person or as his son, never bothered to reply to even one of my many letters; at least, not until he was dying. When I went to meet him, he said how proud he was of the man I’ve become, how proud he was that I was his son and that I would continue the family name. In that very moment, I made a promise.”

“What did you promise?”

“That the Stark line would die with me. That I would never marry and never sire any children.” James doesn’t say anything, and Tony finds himself continuing, unable to stop now that he started. “I told Pepper that I won’t marry her because I won’t give her children. She said it didn’t matter, that she would accept a proposal from me nonetheless.” But, Tony, the one thing I’m not willing to give up is you. “However, when I told her about the promise, she suddenly got angry and demanded I should break it. Apparently, it wasn’t enough for her that I was willing to break part of it, she wanted all of it gone.”

“But you’re unwilling to do that.”

“What kind of man would I be when I can’t even keep a vow that I made on my father’s deathbed?” His eyes snap back to James, who is watching him with an expression Tony can’t quite place. He’s not angry, and Tony can see the thoughts racing behind his eyes. Slowly, he lowers his gaze back to the bottle. “After that, she left. Said she won’t accept my proposal, and I am quite certain she never wishes to see me again. So, my dearest Rhodey, when I say that there is nothing going on between your sister and I, I do mean it. Perhaps there has been something, but as of mere hours ago, there isn’t anymore. She has been quite clear on that.”

“Except that you both love each other.”

Tony hasn’t expected the words, and he certainly hasn’t expected James’ matter-of-fact tone. The thought of denying that fact doesn’t even cross his mind. “Love is a feeling, and as all feelings, it will vanish or change with just enough time passing.”

“Is that what you wish for? For it to go away?”

“It is what Pepper wants. She said she wouldn’t care if we have children, but that has obviously been a lie, given she simply couldn’t shake it off.”

“I don’t think your argument has been about children.”

Don’t start with that nonsense as well,” Tony sighs, rubbing his eyes. “She said the same thing, yet she also kept insisting I break that part of my oath. How is the entire matter not about children?”

“Because we see the thing you’re unwilling to admit.”

“And what would that be?”

“That you want to have children,” James says evenly, completely confident in his words. “And that you’re too stubborn to reach for what you want and for what makes you happy.”

My wish is for you to prioritize yourself! Your own happiness!

Those words played over and over in his mind as Tony tried to decipher what Pepper has exactly meant with it. In the end, Tony has disregarded them, deciding they’re simply words she said during an argument. But now that James is seemingly drawing the same conclusion, he can’t just dismiss them anymore. He tries to, but there’s this annoying, persistent voice at the back of his head that tells him stop and just think for a minute.

“We both know I would make a terrible father,” Tony eventually says, choosing to deflect slightly from James’ original statement.

“You would make a great father.”

“How could you possibly know-”

The viscount doesn’t let him finish, keeping such a magnetic eye contact that Tony can’t look away. “Because you took in two stray pups because they looked wet. Because you took the Parker boy under your wing as soon as you met him. Because every time you walk past a toddler that is looking at you, you make grimaces at them until they laugh. And then there was that boy in Oxford – what was his name again? The one who kept throwing snow balls at us during the winters.”

“Harley Keener,” Tony immediately says, fondly thinking back to that time. The boy has been living at the outskirts of the city, mostly busy helping his mother and looking after his little sister after his father died, but whenever he had the time, he would wander towards the university; mostly to ruffle a few feathers. Of course, the boy’s sense of mischief has sparked Tony’s interest, and after a few conversations, he smuggled out books from the library to read for Harley, only to be presented with little trinkets the boy made himself the following visits, beaming with pride. At the very least, he stopped throwing snow at them.

“Precisely.” James leans forward again, forcing him to really listen to his next words. “You care for people. You always have, even when you pretend that you don’t for some reason or another. And Pepper has realized that, too. She isn’t asking you to break that vow you made for herself and her wishes, but because she believes it makes you miserable, which I agree with. She wants you to be happy.” He pauses. “We want you to be happy.”

There’s an ache in Tony’s heart when he ears James’ words, and, for once, not a bad kind of ache. It is nice to hear that people care about his happiness, even if their friendship has been rough. However, that does nothing to solve any of his problem.

“I made a promised,” Tony repeats. “What kind of man would I be if I throw that away at the very first opportunity?”

James curls his lips in a way that means he has several things to say about that, and Tony can’t wait to find out which thought he deems the most important. “Has anyone witnessed your oath?”

“No. It was between me and him.”

“And he is dead.”

“Yes, has been for quite some years, as you should know. What is the point of-”

“Has your view on the afterlife changed since our days at Oxford? Did you have a change of heart and suddenly believe in it? Or maybe found the Lord, no longer thinking of religion and the church as something that will install guilt and fear into people to follow their rules?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“So, you do not believe that you will face judgement by a higher power who will look at all your deeds and determine if your soul will spend the rest of eternity in some version or other of Heaven or Hell.”

“No, I don’t. And seeing as you so clearly remember my exact words about this entire matter, your questions are rather weird. Why bother with them?”

“Because you made a promise to a man that is now dead and that you will never meet again, a promise no one else has witnessed and can hold you responsible for, a promise that keeps you from being with the woman you love and have a family, and you chose to keep that promise because you’re too stubborn and prideful. Because you decide to honour a promise to a man who had no love, honour, or respect for you; a man who doesn’t deserve the sacrifice of your happiness, and yet you’re still so eager to give it away for him.” He tilts his head to the side. “It seems rather foolish to me.”

“You and Pepper know about the promise,” Tony says, because it’s the first thing that comes to his mind, and it’s better than acknowledging the truth in his words.

James rolls his eyes. “Yes, and I think we both made it clear that we would really rather have you forget that promise.”

This is one of the rare incidents in Tony’s life when he doesn’t know what to say. Because James’ words make sense. He tightly holds on to a promise that has no effect on anybody but him out of pride.

And fear.

“It cannot be that easy,” he mumbles, casting his eyes back down to the bottle, watching the liquid splosh against the glass as he moves it around again.

“What cannot be that easy?”

“Getting everything I want by simply letting go of my pride.”

“But it is.”

“Why are you even pushing this?” His eyes move back to James. “You hated that I courted your sister, even though it was simply pretending.”

“I was against it because I thought you were simply playing with her feelings,” James corrects him. “That you were using her to pass some time. But I do believe that’s not the case.”

“She is not a pastime,” Tony says, his voice suddenly hard. The very thought of Pepper being a pastime to anyone is sickening to him.

“If I believed you wished her any harm or disrespect, I wouldn’t have come,” he continues after a moment. “If I believed Pepper doesn’t care for you the same way you cared for her, I would have insisted on the duel. Tony,” James calling him anything but Stark is so rare, he looks over to him, “you are my dearest friend, and I want you to be happy. I want my sister to be happy. Yes, I have been quite hostile towards your… relationship, but I also believe that you both could have a very happy life together. If you just fight for your happiness.”  

For one moment, Tony allows himself to give into the temptation and imagine it; his life with Pepper at the estate in Hastings. With children. Because no matter how much he tried to deny it or how often he pushed that possibility and the longing away, he wants children. They fill him with joy. And the thought having children with Pepper is enough to send his heart racing and almost makes him grin like a fool.

He wants it. Badly.

Suddenly, in the moment he allows himself to consider a future that is very much in his reach, the promise he made to the late Lord Stark seems… ridiculous. James is right. Lord Stark never cared for him, never bothered to correct people when they assumed Tony was dead, and he never even bothered to reassure himself that Tony wasn’t dead. Why should he let that man – a dead man – decide over his future and happiness? There have to better ways to spite him; perhaps to never talk about the man again, never say his name, erase him from all the history books, and become a way greater man than he has ever been.

A way greater father than he has ever been; though that shouldn’t be too difficult.

“And if you really want to end the Stark name,” James says lightly with a hint of humour, “then you simply have to take Pepper’s name. Lord Anthony Potts, the Duke of Hastings.”

Before Tony knows what he is doing, he snorts in genuine amusement. “It doesn’t sound bad. But I doubt we will find anyone who is willing to do something so unconventional. It sounds like quite a scandal.”

“Since when are you afraid of creating scandals?”

“I’m not saying I’m afraid of a scandal, I’m saying it will be difficult. We might not find a priest willing to marry us at all, and then all of the trouble would have been for nothing.”

“Well, I’m sure we can be very persuasive. Or ask the Romanoff family for help, they must know a way or two to make scandals happen.” They both laugh quietly at that, and for a moment, Tony imagines it – him taking Pepper’s name, their children being called Potts and free from the weight that comes from the Stark name. It is a nice picture.

However, he remembers a crucial detail, and suddenly his good mood vanishes, leaving him even gloomier. “It doesn’t matter anymore if I decide to keep the promise or not,” he says, sounding way too defeated in his own ears. “Pepper doesn’t want to see me again.”

“Didn’t I just say you should fight for your happiness?” James sighs, leaning back in his chair, his voice half in jest. “Honestly, you have to start listening when other people are talking. I know you don’t believe it, but I do actually have other things to do than fix the things you broke. If you hadn’t managed to tie your happiness to Pepper’s, I wouldn’t make such an effort.”

There’s a quip at the tip of his tongue, something about James already having so much practice at fixing Tony’s messes from their time at Oxford, but he swallows it down and decides to be serious. Because this entire matter deserves to be treated seriously. “You know your sister better than I. If she doesn’t want to speak to me, then she won’t. She might even ask the Misses Romanoffs to help her keep me away, and I don’t particularly want to end up in a ditch.”

“That is true.” James nods, thinking over his words. Slowly, a smile spreads across his face. “But I might have an idea.”

Tony smirks, unable to keep the hopeful feeling from raising in his chest. Pushing the bottle of whisky out of his hands, he leans forward. “Well, well, well, Rhodey, if I didn’t know better, I would say you’re quite eager to become my brother-in-law.”

James barks out a laugh, eyes twinkling. “In your dreams.”


Hunger is what drives Pepper out of her room the next day. She had refused to come out for dinner, still not ready to face the world and start a new plan for her future.

Well, she supposes the new plan is her old plan: find a husband who isn’t Tony.

The most difficult part is convincing her heart that the plan is a good plan.

Lady Rhodes makes polite conversation during their shared breakfast, subtly trying to find out what distressed Pepper so much the day before, but she also stops pressing on when Pepper continues to be silent about the entire matter, changing the subject to something mundane.

Too prideful to go back to her room and hide again, Pepper goes to the sitting room and plays the piano forte; a piece that is supposed to sooth the aching pain in her chest, but in truth only makes her eyes water. Still, she ignores the wetness and keeps playing and playing.

Until Humboldt clears his throat behind her. “Miss Potts,” he says, tone still delicate, “Lord Rhodes wishes to meet you in the garden.”

After their brief encounter when Pepper returned home, she hasn’t seen James again. She heard that he went away after dinner, gone for hours, return only when she drifted off into restless sleep, and she simply assumed that he had been at the club, drinking his simmering rage away or doing whatever else it is they do at the club. Thankful for the distraction that he will bring, Pepper simply nods before standing up and heading towards the garden.

Ever since they were children, they have a special little corner in the garden. It is a small gazebo made out of wrought iron, ivy and roses climbing up the small structure, covering almost the entire structure after years and years of growing freely. They chose that spot because it is not easily seen from the house, hidden by large trees and bushes, and it’s just big enough for the two of them. During warm summer days, they spent hours there, reading books to each other, telling stories, or dancing whenever Pepper decided she needed more practice.

She thinks fondly of that spot, and just the thought of meeting her brother there lifts her mood a bit.

It isn’t James who waits for her in the gazebo.

It’s Tony, who jumps to his feet as soon as she rounds the corner.

Just the sight of him makes her blood run cold and she stops immediately. Pepper is suddenly very aware of her own appearance – she didn’t bother to make herself look properly presentable this morning, not when she had planned to not leave the house this day. Her freckles aren’t covered, her dress has wrinkles, her hair hangs loosely and flat around her face, and she doesn’t even have any jewellery on her.

Tony, on the other hand, looks as handsome as ever in his usual dark red coat, his brooch standing out against the black vest, and his neck bare because he once again chose not to wear a cravat. His hair is a tumbled mess, the sun highlighting a few streaks of his dark hair, and he looks so effortlessly good, it is truly unfair. The bruise on his face is a darker shade now, and it should look unappealing, but strangely enough it gives him a reckless, rough look Pepper wasn’t aware she cared for.

Then, she is reminded of the very reason why she hasn’t bothered to dress up or why she has no desire to leave the house or even speak to someone, and at once, the icy blood turns into a fury. And it doesn’t make it better that James obviously helped him. That traitor.

Pushing her chin forward and up, unwilling to show any kind of emotion on her face, Pepper turns around, deciding to simply head back inside and wait until he leaves again before she visits the Romanoff family a visit – they surely have some very helpful suggestions how to handle all of this – but Tony doesn’t let her go so easily. “Don’t leave. Please.”

“I was informed I will meet my brother here,” Pepper says coldly. “You are not him, Lord Stark, so I have no reason to stay.”

“I came to talk.”

“We already talked enough. Good day, Lo-”

“I was wrong,” he interrupts her, “and you were right. Of course, you were. It seems you are right most of the time, and I don’t know why I doubted it yesterday.”

The words make Pepper pause. If she knows one thing about Tony, it’s that he doesn’t like to admit when he’s been wrong, he prefers to spin the words around until they give him half of the blame at most. Hearing him admit it so openly is unusual, especially considering what they had been talking about.

Slowly, she turns back towards him. While his shoulder sack in relief that she isn’t leaving, he still seems nervous. His fingers are fidgeting, obviously itching to have something to form and mould between them. However, he keeps looking in her eyes, not willing to stop now.

“For years, the vow I made was the only thing that remained permanent and unchanging in my life,” he begins. “I held on to it because I wanted to hurt the late duke in the same way he hurt me, and the only way I knew how was by destroying the thing he seemed to hold so dear; the family name. His legacy. I was willing to sacrifice my future, my happiness, for that because, frankly, I didn’t think much of it. I never pictured myself getting married or having a family or living anything that would be considered a normal, quiet, peaceful life. For me, getting the revenge on the man who was supposed to be my father but failed that title in every way, was the most important aspiration in my life.”

Pepper wants to say something. Perhaps asking him to continue or asking why he keeps talking in the past tense, like that promise doesn’t matter anymore, but not a single sound leaves her lips. Despite how much she wants to cling to the anger inside her, she slowly feels it slipping away at his confession. There is a small part that is annoyed by her melting anger, insisting she should hold on to her grudge – but considering she has asked Tony to let go of his own grudge, it would be a bit hypocritical to keep hers up so stubbornly.

“But then,” Tony says, taking a step towards her, and a smile slowly steals its way on his lips, “I came to London to try to be responsible, and I met this incredible, stunning young woman who refused to put her future into anyone’s hands but her own. She even went as far as agreeing to a scandalous ruse.” Pepper can’t help but roll her eyes as she tries her best to fight down the smile. “But, what I didn’t predicted, is that pretending to be smitten by someone is an awfully convenient way to fall in love.”

“Those are James’ words,” she says, unable to help herself. Her brother’s words from that evening ring in her ears.

Tony nods. “They are. But that doesn’t mean they’re not true.”

Her heart skips a beat. Of course, she has always suspected what Tony felt for her, he even swore he would give her everything she ever wanted the day before – but hearing him admit to be in love still caught her off guard.

Contrary to what Pepper is feeling, Tony seems more sure of himself than before; the look in his eyes determined, his back straight, and shoulders pulled back. “I love you, Pepper. I don’t know when it happened, but at some point during all the time we spent together, I fell so irrevocably in love with you that it seems like I loved you from the first moment I saw you. The very thought of you not being by my side anymore was unbearable, and with every proposal you rejected from one of your suitors, I felt so happy.”

Her heart is thundering in her chest, and once again wetness gathers in her eyes. “Then why did you end it?”

“Because I was reminded that we had different visions for our future. I chose isolation, and you want a husband and a family. But by selfishly staying by your side, I knew I was driving your suitors away, or at the very least I was demanding too much of your attention, and I couldn’t stomach the thought of destroying the future you planned for yourself. So, I tried to cut all ties to you, tried to forget you.” His lips twitch upwards into a sad smile. “Of course, that didn’t work. And I was quite foolish for thinking it would ever work.”

Pepper looks at Tony, takes in the look in his eyes, the way he holds his body, the determination he is radiating. He didn’t just come here to tell her his side of the story, declare his love for her, and leave. A part of her has already a suspicion what else he wants to say, but a different, bigger part tells her to be more cautious. The last time she jumped to conclusions too, and it did more damage than anything else.

He looks at her for a moment longer before he steps closer, less than two feet between them now. She thinks he might reach out and take her hands, simply so that his hands have something to do, but they stay stubbornly at his side. She almost wishes he would take them.

“I choose myself,” he eventually says, his voice just loud enough for her to hear. “I choose my own happiness instead of holding on to a promise I made to a dead person who didn’t care for me. I want a future, I want to marry and have a family, and I want all of that with you, Pepper. If you will still have me, even though I have been so foolish.”

“Being foolish seems to be your natural state,” Pepper says, but her voice wavers. Too many emotions are washing over her, driving tears in her eyes and making her knees weak. She is overwhelmed by Tony’s confessions, happy for him that he decided to let go of the bitterness, and happy for herself that he still wants her. Because as much as she tried to pretend and convince her heart otherwise, she wants him, too; wants a life with him.

Tony snorts. “It would appear that way.” Then, he looks down and slowly, hesitantly, reaches out to take her hand, giving her enough time to pull away if she wished to do so. She doesn’t wish to do so. “I am serious, Pepper. I love you. You are the first thing on my mind when I wake up in the morning, you are the last though I have before I drift to sleep, and you are on my mind all the time in between. Even my dreams are filled with you. I said I want to marry and have a family, but truth be told, I only want to marry and have a family with you. No one else.”

“What about having a child?” she asks, just stopping herself from biting her lip in a nervous manner. That has been what started the entire argument, and while Pepper will respect whatever his opinion on the matter is – as long as it is his own heart’s desire, not some misguided sense of pride or obligation –, she does want to know what he’s saying now that he chose to be true with himself.  

“I want them,” he answers without missing a beat. “I want children. I want our children.”

“More than one?” she asks, picking up on the way he keeps referring to children, not one child. He nods enthusiastically. “How many?”

“A dozen.”

She can’t help herself; Pepper throws her head back and laughs. A tight knot in her stomach loosens at hearing the joke – because surely it must be a joke – and for the first time since leaving Lady Carter’s estate, she feels like they can repair their broken friendship; and hopefully move it forward to something else.

“What? Are you not happy with that number?” he asks, not bothering to fight the wide smile on his face. “Well, I suppose I could be convinced to up the number to fifteen, if that is more to your liking.”

“Fifteen!”

“Still not enough?”

“I will not go through pregnancy fifteen times.”

“If we were to have twins, it would be less than that.”

“No, Tony. Not fifteen.”

“We will discuss the number later, then,” he says with a nod, bringing her hands to his lips to kiss her knuckles. Butterflies fly through Pepper’s stomach as another laugh bubbles up in her chest. She feels light-headed from their conversation, a part of her still processing that this isn’t a dream, that this is really happening. “I want a future with you. And I hope you still want one with me. So, Pepper, would you do me the honour of-”

“Don’t propose to me,” she cuts him off, doing her best to hide the smile away.

Immediately, Tony’s face falls, and she does feel bad for it. Hurting him hasn’t been her intention. “I apologize. I thought- …Did I- Did I misread-”

“Don’t propose to me yet,” she says, emphasising the last word and squeezing his hands once, hoping to calm his worries down. “Because I will reject any proposal on principal that I receive without a proper courtship.”

“I’ve been courting you for months.”

“You’ve pretended to court me. I want a real courtship.”

Finally, Tony seems to realize she isn’t rejecting him, and at once, a gleam of mischief appears in his eyes that Pepper knows means the best kind of trouble – she somehow learned to love that gleam. “Very well, if you wish to have a proper courtship, you will get one. The most spectacular one of the season. Decades from now, they will still talk about it. Nothing will ever compare to it.”

“You already bought me every flower in town once.”

“And I will do so much more! Just wait, Miss Potts, you will soon fall victim to my irresistible charm, and will be eager to move our wedding forward. However, I will not be persuaded – you are very welcome to try to persuade me as much as you want, though – for we will do it proper. As I recall, you already have your wedding planned and are only in need of a suitable husband.”

“I am looking forward to your efforts, Lord Stark.” Then, she frees one of her hands and pulls Tony closer by his neck, pressing her lips against his because she wants to – wanted to do this the second she saw him standing in the garden – and it makes her happy and she doesn’t want to hide her affection for him anymore. Tony is eager to response, pulling her closer until their chests are pressed together, and when she pulls away to gulp some air, pressing her forehead against his, her lips are almost brushing against his as she whispers: “I love you, too.”

Tony’s smile is so big, it has to hurt.


3 Years Later

Lady Virginia ‘Pepper’ Stark, Duchess of Hastings, is sitting at the desk in the study – her study that she claimed because while she loves her husband dearly, they do have a very different approach when it comes to organizing important documents, and she cannot deal with his wrong approach of doing it –, her eyes flying over the letters and lists in front of her that are all about the upcoming town fair next month, a tradition Tony had reinstated as soon as he learned about Stane having abolished it years ago. The large window behind her is open, the morning sun not yet strong enough to really warm her back, the birds chirping outside. The view is still as stunning at it has been the first time she saw it, but by now she has learned to pull herself away from it to work.

When Tony promised her a courtship no one would ever forget, Pepper thought he was exaggerating, like he tends to do when in high spirits.

She should have known better.

There hadn’t been a single day when Tony didn’t make his intention and his affection towards her clear; and most of the time, in the most obnoxious and dramatic ways. Thankfully, he refrained from buying every flower in London again, though it was only because he claimed that it was too unoriginal. He gave her books and chocolates and exotic teas and dresses and fruit baskets (with no strawberries in them), he even bought her a new piano forte, even though hers was still perfectly fine, and gifted her with jewellery. The ones she treasured the most where the ones he had crafted himself; like her engagement ring and their wedding rings.

Tony paid them a visit almost every day – chaperoned by James, which wasn’t at all as terrible as Pepper thought it would be, because the bickering between the two friends was truly amusing (especially because the bad blood between them from the beginning of the season disappeared) and she got the chance of listening to more stories from their time at Oxford –, he promenaded with her, went to plays and to the opera with her, accompanied her to galleries, and was the first one to sign her dance card whenever they attended a ball, purposely writing in big letters to leave as little space as possible for other gentlemen to sign.

Truth be told, it had been just the same as they have done the weeks before. Except it was entirely different, because it wasn’t pretend anymore. Tony openly looked at her like she hung the moon and stars just for him, and Pepper didn’t dismiss his compliments and flirtatious words, didn’t pretend to not yearn for his affection and attention, and instead enjoyed his lingering touches. She only teasingly disapproved of the kisses they stole in private, hidden moments, and if Tony jested that she was the one who looked for private spots most often, well… he hadn’t exactly been wrong.

Her other suitors had quickly realised that their efforts were not welcome anymore, and eventually stopped calling on her. The only one who didn’t stop to converse and ask for dances was Captain Wilson, however as Pepper had tried to tell him that she had no intention of marrying anyone but Tony, he reassured her that he was aware of that and simply did it to rile the man up. And to Pepper’s amusement, it had been working, Tony turning a special kind of red whenever the captain showed up and pressed a kiss against her knuckles, purring one compliment after the other.

Their wedding was perfect to the surprise of no one. After all, Pepper had planned it for years, determined to make it the last grand event of the social season, only needing to find a husband, and Tony being the man who had waited by the altar for her had made the entire event even more perfect. Afterwards, Tony whisked her away for a honeymoon across the continent, showing her some of his favourite places. When they returned several months later, Pepper’s belly was already starting to grow round with their child.

Her pregnancy has been scary as she had to get used to having a human life growing inside her and hormones, and the birth has been downright terrifying, even with Tony being on one of her sides, not protesting as she surely broke every bone in his hand from gripping it so tight, and Lady Rhodes on the other, whispering encouragement into her ear over Pepper’s screams (the rest of their family has been waiting outside), but it has all been worth it when they heard the first cry of their daughter. They named her Morgan after Pepper’s mother, and both Tony and her cried as they held her.

Salt the cat, formerly Salt the kitten, lifts his head from his spot on the chaise lounge and looks towards the door. Only a second later, Pepper hears the japing and barking of dogs, followed by a screeching laugh that always makes her heart swell so much, it feels like it is about to burst, and a few murmured words, too muffled through the door for her to understand. There’s a knock on the door, but before she can even answer, it already swings open, and she can’t help but grin at the sight.

The three dogs, Domi, U, and Friday (named so because Tony brought her home on a Friday), are excitingly running around the room, one of them stopping to sniff curiously at Salt while the other two race towards Pepper, eager for some scratches behind their ears. Tony’s grin is wide – it always is, especially since their wedding – as he carries Morgan in his arms, the girl screeching again as she spots her mother. Just like Pepper predicted, Tony is a wonderful father, often forcing Pepper into the role of the parent who has to remind them of the rules, but she doesn’t mind. He is loving, patient, completely unwilling to let any of the servants raise their child, and just insane enough to always encourage curious behaviour and fun activities that help Morgan thrive.

“Looks like we found Mama,” Tony says to Morgan before setting her down. At once, she makes her way over to Pepper, still a bit shaky and unsure on her feet, especially with the dogs around her, but quickly picking up speed.

“You found me,” Pepper smiles as she picks up her girl, pressing a kiss against her cheek. “You did very good, Morgan.”

“Well, I helped as well,” Tony complains as he moves closer, a mock-pout on his face. “Where is my kiss?”

She gives him a cold stare, though they both know she isn’t serious. “Not until you have cleaned up the mess by the smithery.”

“It isn’t a mess-”

“It certainly looks like one.”

“-and I will fix it. I only need to revisit a few ideas to correct the last mistake, and then it will be finished. Won’t take longer than a day.”

“You worked on it for years now, and it still goes up in flames. I know you insist that we take your horseless carriage to London in a few days, but I do hope you make sure that we don’t burn on our way there.”

“Of course,” he immediately says, his face quite serious. “You know that I would never put you three in danger.” He leans down, stealing a kiss from her lips as he runs a hand over her stomach in a protective gesture. Pepper isn’t so far along that she is showing yet, but she remembers the first signs of a pregnancy. Tony has been beside himself with joy, already thinking about names (Maria for a girl, named after his mother, and Yinsen for a boy, named after the man who saved him. Pepper has no objections).

“Why did you come to find me?” Pepper asks as she sets a wiggling Morgan down. The little girl is full of energy and curiosity, unable to keep still for long, especially when three excited dogs are running around her and coaxing her into playing with them.

“Letters arrived for you, my love,” Tony answers, leaning against her desk and pulling out a few envelopes out of his coat. “And a certain pamphlet full of gossip. I do not know why you even bother to still read them. We’re not even living in London anymore.”

“You shouldn’t be so dismissive of Lady Whistledown,” she says with a smile, flipping the envelopes around until she finds the familiar pamphlet. “After all, she is the entire reason why we got further acquainted.”

“You’re right. I suppose I should thank her.” Tony grins as kisses her once more before he picks up their daughter again, laying her over his shoulder in a way that has her laughing uncontrollably, and calls the dogs to his heel. “We’ll give you some quiet to work. I know how much you hate it if you get distracted before you can finish a task.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find something that will demand my attention soon enough.” It is meant to be scowling, however the wide grin on her face does very little to help. As the noises slowly ebb away, she reads through the pamphlet, enjoying the bit of gossip now that it isn’t about her anymore. Now, years later, the way Lady Whistledown has influenced her relationship with Tony seems almost comical.

Perhaps she truly should send flowers to the woman to show her gratitude as soon as her identity is revealed.

Pulling another letter closer, she cannot help but feel her chest warm as she reads over her name on it. Lady Stark. A part of Pepper had mourned that she wouldn’t be Lady Potts, but she finds herself enjoying being called Lady Stark.

Suddenly, she stops, looking back at the way the L is written with a flourishing swirl.

It looks strangely familiar.

Grabbing the pamphlet she just pushed aside, Pepper puts them both next to each other and closely inspects the Ls. They are remarkably similar. Almost identical.

Feeling her heart beat faster in her chest, she turns her attention back to the letter, reading the return address – which matches the address of the Romanoff mansion. However, there’s no name attached to it, only The Romanoff Family written on top.

Pepper is about to rip open the letter, curious to find out who wrote her and whose letters suddenly seem to match the ones of the most infamous gossip in all of England, but her hands still as the laughter from outside reaches her study. Turning around to look out of the window, she watches her husband and child run around the garden for a game of tag, trying to avoid running into the dogs.

For a moment, she just watches, feeling utterly content.

No, even better.

She feels utterly happy.

Putting the letter down, Pepper gets to her feet and picks up Salt before she leaves the study. Finding out who Lady Whistledown can wait – spending time and making memories with her family can’t. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Notes:

Aaaaaaaaaaand... that's it! The end! What did you think about it? And the fic in general?

When I planned the ending, I thought a lot about dragging out their argument and adding some pining and all that, but when I actually got to that part I realized that I actually didn't want to do that. It felt more natural for everyone - especially Rhodey - to be fed up with the situation and wanting to resolve the problem. I also don't think that Tony really needed to do a grand gesture for Pepper, not when he told her he forgets all about his oath. I'm sorry if it seems a bit hasty.

Listen, when I wrote that line about having 12 children, it was just a reference - but I like to think that with all the animals and emotionally adopted teenagers, they actually end up having 12 children. And given that they're about mid-twenties here, that they don't really have birth control, and they do want a large family, I think they'll have more than one child. Morgan will get some siblings, and not only biological ones.

As for Lady Whistledown: I always planned for Yelena to be her, but I also like the idea that the entire Romanoff family is part of it. A fun way to pass the time and causing chaos at the same time. The L was on purpose to kinda let Pepper in on the secret without saying it outright. You can't tell me that family doesn't know how to forge their writings.

I hope you all enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please let me know what you thought!

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I had fun writing it! :) If you did - or didn't - leave me a comment! I'm so excited to find out what y'all think. Or you can leave me a message on tumblr!