It was the best of Yules, it was the worst of Yules [Will]

[Marinette Roquefort]

[Continued after Marinette left Behind Closed Doors]

Once Wesley had gone off to find Helene, she no longer knew what to do with herself. She was abruptly alone and isolated in a noisy room full of strangers, a sensation that made her feel as if she were shrinking down to the size of a doll among the larger-than-life crowd. Distantly she managed to find an empty table and sit heavily in a chair, pressing her hand to her forehead as she tried to regain her senses.

[For William deGrey]

[William deGrey]

As with every holiday, especially Yule, Olivia wanted to be there extra early. This time, however, William managed to convince her to wait, telling her that no one else was going to be there three hours early. Somewhat impatiently, the girl conceded, and they would enter the lavishly decorated ballroom only some moments after his brothers and some other guests had arrived.

Olivia shot off like a rocket, going to greet everyone she recognized while he took this moment to breathe. He'd taken care of his daughter all day, having given Triona- Livi's governess- the day to spend with her family and soon-to-be husband. Will was more than happy to do so...but he had almost forgotten what it was like to have to deal with a very spirited and hyperactive young daughter all by himself, attempting to put off any work for the day. He was certainly going to miss Triona, because she won't be staying once she was married.

Maybe he even seemed frightened by the prospect, but he would need to find another tutor for the girl as soon as possible. And that was when his thoughts strayed to a particular idea again.

Dark eyes found the small gathering by Lucian and Wesley and he figured he wouldn't overcrowd it more. There would be time to converse with his family, yet it would appear that one was already on her way over. “William…” It was his mother, her brows knit together in that telltale look of concern...yet curiosity. He knew what she was about to ask before she even said them and he had to refrain from a sigh.
“Mother,” he acknowledged her politely, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.
Anne placed her hands upon his shoulders when she leaned back to look up at him. Here it came. “What on earth happened, my son?”
“And what do you speak of?” He figured he’d play dumb for just a moment longer as his attention drifted from his mother’s face to the crowd of people. Will didn’t really know if he was looking for anyone in particular, or maybe he was hoping she hadn’t shown her face yet. If he was lucky and God was kind, Margery wouldn’t show up at all.
His mother was glaring at him now, knowing he was trying to avoid the subject. “The whole castle is talking about it now, William.”
“So they know what she’s done, yes?” He fixed his mother with a steady look. It was that look that quietly requested she didn’t test his patience. “Don’t look at me as if you’re trying to place the blame elsewhere. The engagement was a mistake, and it took me far too long to realize it.”
Anne let out a slow and heavy sigh. He knew she was torn about it because all she wanted was for her sons to live happy lives, to climb their way to the top and fill this castle with a million grandchildren...and she had only one since all four deGrey men seemed to be dragging their feet on that matter. Please don’t give that lecture again, he silently prayed. Sometimes, his mother came across as cold and unforgiving. One just had to truly know her to realize that she only ever wanted what was best for her boys.

And that wasn’t Margery Damn Decant.

“Just...be careful how you handle things. There is too much at stake these days for a scandal to arise,” she said instead.
His eyes narrowed a little, his lips pursing in thought. “You mean with Triston’s run for the regency.” Oh, it wasn’t a question- he was stating the obvious. Although, he understood it and wouldn’t wish to do anything to possibly tarnish his own brother’s name, it was still a bit of a low blow.
“Oh, William, don’t-” But Anne paused in her words when she realized her eldest son’s attention was elsewhere. Both of them were now watching as Marinette Roquefort quickly went up to Wesley, and Will was immediately noticing the look of panic on her face. His brother was rushing into the crowd of dancers then, and his back stiffened. From where he stood, he couldn’t see everything, but he saw enough. Helene was there with another- a nobleman he was already trying to search his brain for the name of- before she was running off. And that left Wesley standing face to face with Clarence Hewitt.

Anne’s fingers tightened on his arm like she was about to request that he intercede in whatever was going on, but his brother decided to follow after Helene instead. What the hell was happening? “Who is that?” his mother’s voice broke his thoughts. “Where is he going?”
William almost rolled his eyes. He was not going to get into that with her right now. Also, that was Wesley’s problem. “Lady Helene Hewitt.” Before there could be any more questions, Olivia was thankfully skipped up to them, twirling a sprig of holly in between her fingers to show her grandmother. “Will you watch her?” he asked Anne and was already moving away without waiting for an answer. He could feel the woman’s bright, cold eyes glaring into his back as he went. It was nothing new.

It took William a good, long minute to find her as the ballroom continued to fill with more guests, but he managed to locate Marinette at that lone table by herself. Perhaps he shouldn’t bother her, and maybe it was none of his business, but the concern would nag at him for the entire night if he didn’t just make sure she was okay. He was already realizing that Lord Roquefort was nowhere in sight, and he was silently trying to figure out whether that was a good or bad thing.

“Marinette?” he said quietly, forgoing titles as he stepped into view from the side. The question of whether she was alright was right there at the tip of his tongue, the expression was written all over his face, but he was hesitant to ask it still. The last thing he wanted was to intrude, but ever since the chase, there were things he couldn’t seem to let go. “May I?” A hand gestured to the seat nearest her.

[Marinette Roquefort]

The rest of the room was a noisy blur as she stared into the candle on the table, her mind shockingly blank for the amount of anxiety crawling beneath her skin. She'd passed her limit, it seemed, and even her intrusive thoughts couldn't get past the full roar of it all.

She didn't notice the man's approach until she heard her name, and her head jolted upward. Her expression was lost, almost blank, as she struggled back to the surface. It was William, which was a relief--she should have known simply because someone other than her sister was calling her by name, but she'd been too far away to think that fast. She nodded absently when he asked if he could sit, and by the time he had done so, she had mostly caught up to what was happening. Or, at least, she had recognized the concern on his face.

Immediately, she felt a wave of guilt for dragging him into their family mess. And now Wesley, too, although things went the way she was hoping, it might soon be his family. God help him.

Dark eyes met, and she did her best to smile, although it was still a little distant.

"Sorry, William. I'm alright," she assured him, which was mostly true. She wasn't (freshly) injured, her sister was in good hands, and thankfully Clarence didn't seem interested in the younger Roquefort daughter in the least. There was nothing wrong with her save for her turmoil and anxiety. "I got a bit overwhelmed, I suppose. It's been a strange day."

Strange was an understatement. She was going to have whiplash after being swung from bliss to panic so often in one day. Happy Yule indeed.

She felt as if she ought to say more, to ease the question in his eyes. He knew just enough, after all, to justify being extremely concerned. He probably expected the worst, and even that wouldn't cover it. Things had taken a turn she could never have anticipated.

"Father paid Helene and me a visit, this morning." Unbeknownst to her, her right hand strayed to her stomach, which was still tender from the morning's abuse. "He won't be attending the ball, at least, so I thought we would be able to relax. It seems I was too optimistic...but I think Helene and Wesley should have things in hand."

[William deGrey]

Again, he was wondering if he shouldn't have come over and bothered her. But, lately, he'd been wondering about a lot of things, feeling that particular outcomes would have been different if he just stepped up sooner. It didn't help that she appeared to be sitting here alone at Yule, and he couldn't allow that. This was supposed to be a joyous holiday, after all, and she looked too lovely to be spending it this way.

As she nodded, William slowly sank into that chair, shifting so that he was facing her. It felt strange then, not knowing what to say or how to proceed. There was this part of him that felt like he was intruding, and yet, after finding out certain things yesterday during the chase, maybe he wasn't. It was possible that his own overly cautious mind was simply trying to hold him back like it so often did, or was attempting to cloud his judgment. And curse him for thinking that perhaps she just needed a friend.

'It's been a strange day.' So, something happened.

Before he could summon up the courage to ask, Marinette was elaborating a little bit, her words making his blood run cold. Davide had paid them a visit, and from what little he did know, that wasn't a good thing. He let his gaze drop to where her hand subconsciously rested against her stomach and he held his breath. What had happened, and what happened out there on the dance floor? The concern grew, and he partially masked that worry for her with his words about Wesley. "Is he about to walk into this, too?" He refrained from using "mess" or any other word of that sort, because although it was, Will didn't regret knowing. He wasn't bothered by it, only by the fact that he felt he wouldn't be able to help. He was also assuming Wesley didn't know anything yet because he certainly hadn't said anything to his brother, but he was gathering he was about to find out.

Sighing gently, fingers ran down his neatly trimmed goatee. If Wesley was finding out, he was a little worried about his reaction. He'd have to make sure to keep an eye on him. The sailor denied it, but Will could see how close he was getting to Helene, and it could be dangerous right now.

His attention had lingered upon the door of the ballroom before finding Mari's delicate face once more. "Would it help...to tell me what happened this morning?" William wouldn't push, but he could at least lend an ear, or at the very least a distraction if she wanted it. "There's also plenty of wine, I hear. Good conversation and music..." A corner of his mouth curled up in a faint smirk, but it was still sincere. If she wanted company, he’d be happy to remain there with her.

[Marinette Roquefort]

"Is he about to walk into this, too?" he asked, and Marinette winced. She honestly didn’t know. Her sister was better at keeping secrets than she, and Clarence was different. She just shrugged slightly and shook her head, conveying her helplessness in a gesture. She couldn’t predict anything about where the cards would fall now. Was Helene injured enough, frightened enough, to tell Wesley the truth? She couldn’t tell.

She followed William’s gaze over her shoulder towards the door where Helene must have escaped. Good. At least if she was outside the room, she was away from Clarence. She might not know Helene’s reasons for distrusting the man, but she felt his icy core even without the details. Being around him made her skin crawl, instinctively.

William’s voice recalled her to the moment, and she turned back to him with her eyebrows slightly raised until she understood his question. Her brow quickly knit as she shook her head. She wouldn’t talk about that here, and it was likely safer for him if he wasn’t aware of the intimate details. All that mattered at the moment was that Davide wouldn’t be arriving at the ball. God willing, his nose would take ages to heal, and bruises would mar his handsome face as long as possible. Finally, he would taste his own medicine.

His other suggestion was...tempting. It was much closer to what she’d hoped for from the ball--music, and dancing, and time with the first friends that she’d ever truly had. Had it only been a few minutes ago that she’d been so radiantly happy? She chewed on her lower lip for a moment, glancing back over her shoulder at the door. Should she be worrying more about her sister? Wasn’t it selfish of her to try and forget?

She looked back to William as if she were asking for permission, although her lips were already curling to match his small smile. “Can we…?”

[William deGrey]

William could only try to not concern himself with what might come up from Wesley knowing any of this, at least until it was time to. If that time would even arise. No, wait, of course it would. He knew his brother well, and after this? Something was bound to happen, and Will wasn't sure if he liked the bad feeling he got. Especially when Marinette wasn't even sure herself. It appeared natural for the outgoing ones to leave their siblings in constant question, and he was all too used to it at this point.

Despite hoping everything would be okay, this wasn't what the evening was about. Especially considering Lord Roquefort would not be arriving to the festivities, so that meant his daughters should be able to enjoy the party. Only, Mari didn't appear to be. Perhaps, if she wished it, he could help remedy that. He wouldn't outright say it, but it would ease the trouble on his mind as well. Every time one of the large doors opened, he was waiting for something bad to happen and he didn't like that, he didn’t like that shadow looming over him. William was on edge, and he couldn't be of much comfort to this woman if he was, now could he?

Watching as her gaze went back to the door, he knew her thoughts were mirroring his own. They were both worried about Wesley and Helene, both unsure of what had completely happened and what could happen, and Will did feel a little ashamed for not wishing to dwell on it. Yet, all he did was worry, it seemed like. Wasn't he allowed a few moments to simply enjoy time for himself? And he certainly felt Marinette deserved the same.

"They'll be fine," he assured her, even if he wasn't so sure. "And we'll be here if they need us, but...pardon my forwardness, my lady-" William rose to his feet and extended a hand out to her with a confidence that every now and then decided to show itself. Fortunately, right now was one of those times. "You are far too lovely to be a wallflower, especially this evening." He had indeed taken notice of that emerald gown; she looked exquisite, and he was certain that if he wasn't already there speaking with her, that someone would already be trying to whisk her away. "And I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure of a dance," he added with a slight furrow of his brow as he recalled it, his mouth curling into another soft grin. The evening of the funeral, he had danced with nearly everyone except for her. Maybe that could be swiftly remedied now.

If she was willing, William would lead her out onto the dance floor that was already filling up with laughing and smiling couples. He didn’t take pride in much, but this was something he always felt he was exceptionally good at, although being so small a thing. Holding her small hand within his, he stepped back so that he could bow deeply as was customary. His other arm remained behind his back even as he stood up, releasing her hand to place his lightly against her side. William moved then, in a gentle sway and guided her with just that single touch near her hip, getting a feel for the tempo. After a moment, the back of his free hand slipped beneath her wrist, leisurely rising their arms up and down in waving extension before fingers lightly curled around her own to urge her into a slow spin.

[Marinette Roquefort]

She should have been getting used to it after a whole evening spent with the deGreys, but somehow Mari was still stunned by William's elegant manners and compliment. If she'd thought he was lying to her, that would be one thing; it was far easier to shake off a lie. But she trusted William, which meant he was sincere. He thought she was lovely!

A fiery blush started on her cheeks as she stared, wide-eyed, and nearly gaping, at his offered hand. It spread down her neck and shoulders as she gathered the courage to take it and rise to her feet. For a time, as they crossed the floor, she felt as if there were half a dozen or more people staring at her. (She couldn't know that at least one very stern mother probably was, along with one very excited little girl.) Once they were among the dancers, however, William had her full attention once more.

As he bowed, she curtseyed low, watching him with curiosity all the while. He was right; the two of them hadn't had a chance to dance before. She slowly followed the lead of his hand on her hip, her brow furrowed ever so slightly as she concentrated on the movement. His other hand startled her slightly, and she turned to watch as he guided their actions like they were moving with a gentle breeze. As they did, a slow smile began to form on her lips. It was easy to follow his movements, as natural as breathing, and she felt her excitement from earlier in the day beginning to return.

He guided her out in a slow spin, then twirling under his arm so that her skirt flared around her, and by the time she'd returned to him, she was positively glowing with happiness. She loved dancing, almost more than the piano, and to have such a good partner was a first. She'd had lessons, yes, but that evening after the funeral had been her first dance in years. She could already tell this was going to be even more than she'd hoped for from the ball.

[William deGrey]

That was the thing about William, he was polite but he never said anything unless he meant it. There were the usual greetings and pleasantries whenever he was at his job, of course, but it never extended past that. When the man offered a compliment, he meant it, otherwise he didn’t say it. Maybe it was strange for someone who spoke only the truth to be unable to offer himself the same courtesies. But Marinette was beautiful, even outside of this party...and something told him she probably didn't often believe it.

Guess he knew the feeling.

She needed this. They both needed this, he realized. William would be spending most of his time chasing after Olivia or finding himself locked into boring conversation with others at court when his brothers were occupied, and he was glad that he wasn't. She was far more pleasant company, and he didn't care for Anne's stares because the woman was certainly watching with scrutinizing eyes. No, he realized this probably didn't look good and he could already hear the gossip arising, but he was allowed to spend time with someone he was slowly realizing could potentially be a dear friend. Someone who had chanced quite a lot just to ensure that the devil woman didn't embarrass him further. Marinette was a joy even in her shyness, and he understood it. She helped him feel like he didn't need to put on a mask and pretend like everything was fine, that nothing was wrong, all the while managing to help him forget all of it.

The smile on his lips widened just a little bit more when he noticed the hairpin as he spun her, idly wondering if she really did like it or was simply wearing it to be polite. Will was never very good with gifts- he'd often just pick something that reminded him of the person, and the hairpin was lovely and delicate. Yet also fairly intricate. Somehow, he found it suiting even though Olivia had wanted to get a million other things instead.

When she returned to him after the spin, fingers gently glided down her arm before finding her side again, leading them both into a slow turn and never missing a step. Once more, William would softly urge her back out into a spin, seeing the way that skirt billowed and whirled around her every time. Their hands were drawn up between them as they moved in a floating circle; then, spinning her around in another tight turn, he took her hand properly and fell into a proper waltz, gliding her along the dance floor and through the gathering sea of people.

“I feel as though I had missed out all those nights ago,” he quietly confessed, although the music that played during the night of the funeral hadn’t been quite so traditional.

[Marinette Roquefort]

She began to understand why people got so worked up about attending balls in all her favorite books. To be here, in a sparkling winter wonderland, dancing with someone she trusted, while the music swelled in the background, and a dress that made her feel like royalty spun out into a whirling cloud around her with each turn...it was heavenly. She felt that perhaps she ought to be more reserved, but she couldn’t help the brilliant smile that lit her face when she returned from the second spin and met William’s eyes for just a moment as they circled before she was twirling out again, returning to him each time. Her heart was racing from more than the dance, although she couldn’t pinpoint what it was that gave her such a thrill. Perhaps she was too afraid to know.

At the last turn, she laughed out of pure delight and was almost disappointed when they fell into a simple waltz, although even that had a level of grace that she wasn’t used to. She honestly felt lovely and graceful, and she had a feeling that was somehow William’s doing too.

Missed out? Him? Marinette’s eyebrows rose, and she gave him a questioning look for a moment. “I think that’s my line, actually,” she teased softly, gaze shifting away a bit as she blushed and added, “Although I won’t argue too much, seeing as I wouldn’t give this up for the world.”

“Really though...I’m more and more glad that we keep running into each other,” she continued, looking back to him more thoughtfully. “Once is luck, twice is a coincidence, three times is fate...or so they say. Once after the funeral, twice is the market, and the third would have been the chase, I suppose. And now we’re doing it on purpose instead.”

[William deGrey]

He didn't know her well enough to actually say so, but the smile that graced her face now was something remarkable, like he didn't expect it but was more than happy for it. Perhaps it made him feel that small bit of pride swell up within his chest to think that he might have helped coax it out. It caused the soft smile on his own face to remain, stretching just a bit more when he heard her laugh.

Keeping them in that traditional waltz, it allowed them to speak a little easier, even if now and then he'd find a moment to twirl her beneath his arm or spin her out gently to arm's length. It was as though she easily glided across the floor and it made him feel almost like he was walking on air alongside her. William was currently content to do something so simple as this with her that he hadn't realized who finally decided to enter the ballroom.

Margery was a woman who always demanded attention the moment she stepped into a room. Despite her ways, she wasn't bad to look at with her flaxen hair and pale skin...but those eyes were cruel. And William wasn't aware that they were searching the crowd for him, narrowing upon him the moment she found him.

Perhaps he could remain blissfully unaware for a little while longer.

Seemingly amused by her words, William's expression sobered just slightly as he broke them apart, only to drift next to her. He still held her hand, grasping it against his chest while his touch at her lower back guided her further across the floor. "Then I can't help but wonder..." he began, voice trailing away briefly. After a few more steps, he slowly spun her again. Except this time, she would feel the support of his hand between her shoulders, the other still holding onto hers as he dipped her back lightly. The curiosity was now dancing across his face when he continued his statement. "Why did it have to take until the third time to really know you?" His brow furrowed lightly as he thought about it before drawing her back up to stand. "That's a bit of a shame, really..." Then again, he wasn't one to put himself out there when he didn't think it was necessary. And that was most of the time.

[Marinette Roquefort]

The dance flowed as smoothly as water, and she was the wave. Marinette found herself more and more at ease, quite content to be there in his arms--although she had never expected to feel safe with any man.

She was pleased, too, to see that the smile hadn't left his face either. After the insanity of the chase, she'd been worried that he might have trouble freeing himself from the lingering poison of Margery's influence. She hadn't been kind to him, or his daughter, and it made her wonder how he'd been convinced to propose to her in the first place. But she hardly had time to think about it, when she was being twirled out and looking back to meet that smile again.

Wonder…? Wonder what? She waited curiously for the question, only to find herself being dipped gently, and her eyes widened.

Why did it take so long to know her?

The surprise was apparent on her face even before he added that it was quite a shame. A dark cloud followed it, as uncertainty and guilt made her brow furrow, and her smile vanished. She… she had just assumed that most people didn't want to know her.

"I suppose… I've never been given the opportunity to be known, before," she answered slowly. "I'm not often wanted. And...to truly know me is to know my secrets. And you're the first one to ever ask about those."

[William deGrey]

Were it any other woman, one who hadn't blatantly expressed her displeasure over many things, it might have been harder for William to let go. But everything had been set into motion that day in the market, and after the chase and what Marinette had done, it just solidified everything. His brothers had been trying to tell him, but he had been too stubborn to listen to them, especially when it had turned into teasing. Will knew they meant well and had honestly worried about him, but it had bothered him even still. Maybe it was enough to make him rebel and just put up with Margery's antics as though trying to prove them wrong. Even when he knew how stupid of an idea that was.

So, it was truly a wonder he was managing to bounce back from the whole ordeal from yesterday. Deep down, it still bothered him, it still hurt, but he was putting on that well crafted mask for the entire court, trying to prove that he was alright. The strange thing was, it was a little easier than he had anticipated, and that was all thanks to Marinette. She was helping him swiftly forget, at least in this very moment, that everything had gone terribly wrong during the chase, that his entire world would probably crumble all around him once the festivities were over.

But then her smile was disappearing.

His expression softened into concern, listening to her speak and he almost didn't realize how much they seemed to mirror his own. There were times William never even realized it. This was all a shame, indeed. "Forgive me, but...it is a little hard to believe that you would not be...wanted." Oh, but he knew. He understood, and it was becoming blatantly obvious with how his face changed again. It was like he was trying to figure out a way to take back those words, feeling as though he was being a hypocrite.

Will lightly sighed, only slowing down their dance little so he could quietly speak with her. "Though...I understand," he finally confessed, his grin small and almost tired, unsure if he should even say anything. "Even as the eldest, I blend into the background." He didn't elaborate, he didn't make it sound like it was any of his brothers' faults...because it wasn't. Perhaps it was his own doing for simply accepting it, for deciding to remain out of any sort of spotlight. Lucian was, naturally, the quieter one, but being a soldier had its merits. He was also young and handsome. His dear brother probably tried to blend in with the wallpaper, but he wasn't easily missed. It was almost adorable, actually, when he thought about it.

[Marinette Roquefort]

She was ready to protest, but he seemed to have caught himself, which brought a rueful smile to her lips. She sincerely wished that neither of them felt this way, but she couldn't have hoped for anyone better to empathize with.

"Well, for what it's worth, you stand out to me. It's not every day I tackle people in the mud for someone who's practically a stranger, after all." She couldn't hide a sly smile at that. It had been quite a disaster. But there was more to it than just that. She became serious again.

He stood out to her for his kindness, his determination to help her and her sister when he could easily have walked away. And yet he kept making the choice to be there for her. It occurred to her that he'd known that her sister was with Wesley without her explaining. He'd sought her out today, on purpose. Her heart clenched in her chest so hard she almost flinched. This man and his brothers were such a blessing she couldn't fully process it. She and Helene were beyond lucky to have stumbled into their lives.

"It was worth it, though, to have found a friend in you. I think…" She trailed off for a moment, carefully choosing her words. "...the two of us have a great deal in common. I'm genuinely sorry that you might feel any part of the way I feel about myself, but… it is reassuring, in some ways, not to be alone."

She paused, and her smile returned, small but genuine. "I hope you know how grateful I am to have met you."

[William deGrey]

Wasn't there always one in every family? Maybe it simply felt like the norm to him that he didn't question it so much. It just "is what it is" and he accepted it. At least, and he liked to believe that it didn't make him a pushover or make him weak. Oh no, when the need arose, he was standing up for his family or whatever the case may be. He just wasn't always so loud and blunt about it, and it was rarely for himself.

'Well, for what it's worth, you stand out to me.' That brought the gentle smile back to his face before he was quietly chuckling at the mention of the chase. It should have bothered him, he knew it should have. He was aware that he should be appearing sad and defeated while people were asking questions, wondering what went wrong with the engagement. Dancing with another woman- seemingly happy to do so- probably was not the best way to go about it, either...but he didn't care. Maybe he was too tired to concern himself with what others thought right now. Those who only care and notice when it was convenient for them.

"I know it probably took a lot of courage and convincing yourself...but I'm glad you did it." William leaned in just a little so that he could whisper, "I will always be thankful to you for making that woman shriek so loud." His expression was almost devilish, just for the briefest of moments as he recalled that banshee-like cry. It had been anything but funny at the time, but he could certainly laugh about it now.

When his face softened again, his words were naturally sincere once more. "But I mean it. I let myself just...sink into my own darkness at times and can't be bothered with coming back up. You were the last and final one to help me realize my fault." It might have been embarrassing to admit, but he was admitting anyway.

Marinette spoke of him being a friend, how it was reassuring in a sad sense that they understood each other in this sorrow. Yes, it was better than dealing with it alone, and he found himself very fortunate to find a friend, maybe even confidante, in this woman suddenly. "I am very grateful as well, Marinette." He hoped he wasn't being too informal with using her name often. "And I do intend to still help you, in any way that I can."

William's face grew serious again, yet only a little. There was this soft hope in his eyes, a plan that he wondered if it would work. If it could help. He worried for Helene as well, of course, but Will wasn't blind. He saw how invested his brother already was even if Wesley was consistently denying it. Will's thoughts had secretly been mirroring Mari's in regards to their siblings...so it was the younger Roquefort sister he would concern himself with. Wesley would take care of Helene, and she him. Of that he had no doubt. "Speaking of, my daughter is still going on about learning piano..." It had only been a day since dinner when it all started, but normally Olivia's attention drifted on to other things. It hadn't. "Perhaps...you might be willing to teach her?" A pause, he was grinning gently again. "It would require much time here, and you would be compensated, of course." But it would help keep her from home and her father some. Not as much as she'd like, he imagined, but maybe it was a start?

[Marinette Roquefort]

The conspiratorial whisper near her ear and the mischief in William’s grin as he straightened up sent a little spark down Marinette’s spine that she wasn’t quite sure how to process. She didn’t dislike it, though. She thought, maybe, she’d like him to do that again. Just so she could decide what that felt like, of course. She found herself grinning right back.

His more serious answer, though, caught her attention, and she was soon nodding along. Sinking into darkness was all too familiar a sensation for Marinette. It was so easy to be dragged down by the nasty, grasping things at the back of her mind, the horrid comments, and gruesome imaginings. Fighting them off was exhausting, some days. It would be simpler to let go. Even now she could easily let herself be distracted by the feeling of eyes on them, the gossip they must be starting, the fact that she didn’t deserve to be here, that she shouldn’t have William’s attention, he was a duke and she was as good as a servant, that everyone knew it and was judging her, wishing she was gone--but she pushed them back into that dark corner where they belonged. He’d chosen to seek her out, she reminded herself. He wouldn’t have spoken to her if he didn’t want to.

She furrowed her brow when he mentioned his intention to help her. “You already--” she began, intending to argue that even this, a brief respite from everything else, was more help than she could have asked for. But the expression lingering in his eyes caught her attention, and she cut off, curious.

“Perhaps you might be willing to teach her?”

That was the first time Marinette faltered in the dance, nearly tripping over her own feet as she abruptly forgot how to control them. She caught herself on William’s shoulders instinctively and quickly regained her footing, but her eyes were wide and her cheeks red as she looked back up from her traitorous feet to his face. She could hardly believe her ears. Was he really suggesting that she teach Olivia to play the piano? It would be an absolute dream--the little girl was absolutely precious, and a fast learner, and she had always wanted to teach a daughter someone how to play the way her mother had done for her. It was like another Yule gift that he was offering her, and then he was saying that he would pay her for it?

“Do you mean-- I-- Are you certain?” she stammered, “I wouldn’t want to impose, and I know it’s my fault in the first place for setting her up to want to learn, I mean, I didn’t want to cause trouble but she was saying it looked difficult and it’s really not and she--” Marinette clamped her mouth shut abruptly, and her blush grew darker as she looked away from his face. She’d been answering him as if he was going to shout at her. As if she were trouble, a burden. And she’d promised him before that she would try not to see herself that way. More than that, she couldn’t believe she had treated William of all people as if he was going to be cruel to her.

“I’m sorry. Force of habit,” she apologized quietly. “I know you’re not...you’re not like that.”