What is this I hear?

[Emilia McIntyre]

There was rare few things that Emilia McIntyre didn’t know about. She prided herself on knowing everything that her children were up too. Like Lavender’s littler terse with the stable boy, the reason Remy was so darn tired as of late, the fact she knew Lucas was bringing home a guest before his letter had even gotten to them. If it wasn’t her little spies telling her what everyone was doing, it was her flames.

What surprised Emilia, and she was not a woman that liked surprises unless they were her own, was the fact she’d had to hear about what happened with Rosemary from one of the servants. And even then, Em had barely missed the gossip as she was walking past the room they were changing the bedding in.

Her blood was boiling. She had half a mind to get into the carriage, barge into Rosemary’s room, and drag her out by her ear. Declaring she was done being a lady to the princess, and that she could spend the rest of her years locked in her room until Emilia found her a suitable husband that would be willing to have her.

How dare she do this to her poor mama? Did she not care about her nerves? Oh her nerves...Always her nerves… Rosemary was certainly on her last one, and she’d sent a letter to her oldest daughter, politely requesting that she return home to Morning star manner. Lucas would be returning soon, and she thought it would be a nice treat for her oldest son if his sister was there to greet him while she finished up the guest room for his guest.

But before that...they needed to have a mother daughter talk. Emilia could already feel that particular vein in her temple bulging and she took a slow breath. Not wanting her anger to get the best of her. There had to be a reasonable explanation. It would be find. She hand’t raised Rosemary to be a harlot. She knew better then that.

Everything. Would. Be. Fine.

She smoothed her hands over her skirts. Dressed in black and gold today the fabric was embossed with floral patterns and outlined in gold. Her hair was up on her head in her typical hair style with perfect curls coming down around her shoulders. She was looking out at the window of the sitting room, watching a few of the servants work in the yard, prepping for spring.
Tea was already set up and read on the table, and Emilia turned, walking towards her seat before she sat gracefully down. Pouring herself a cup, she made it how she liked it. She was sipping it slowly when the door opened.

Her expression was blank, nearly impossible to read, but you could certainly cut the tension in the air with a knife.

Momma wasn’t happy.

Rosemary McIntyre

[Rosemary McIntyre]

Rosemary knew exactly why her mother had wanted her to come home--and it wasn't about Lucas. She knew better than to believe that. After all, mother knew everything before anyone else did. It was only natural--her gramarye made it easy for her to keep tabs on her children. The only way to have a secret was to stay completely in the cover of darkness. Even beyond that, if she'd managed to escape the notice of her mother's scrying, then Mother had certainly heard from the servants. It had only been a matter of time.

She'd been avoiding everyone but Iona the last few days, trying to keep her head down. She stayed in her room with the door locked when she wasn't directly with Iona or the princess. And still, the gossip traveled. In fact, she might have made it worse--now people were saying that she'd broken Bastian's heart...or the other way around. It made her want to cry and tear her hair in frustration, but instead, she sat in the carriage with her hands clenched around her handkerchief so hard that her knuckles turned white. Someone, please...help me be strong, she prayed, unsure that any god of any religion would really care about the mess she'd gotten herself into.

One of the servants led Rosemary into the drawing-room, and she followed with her head dropped and eyes on the floor. She didn't have to look up to feel her mother's eyes on her or sense her displeasure. She already knew, long before she'd entered the room. She wished desperately the floor would simply open and swallow her up. She curtseyed silently and dropped into an empty chair. She was too nervous to pour herself a cup of tea--her hands would surely shake and make her spill.

It took a few seconds to gather her courage and raise her head.

"Hello, Mama…"

[Emilia McIntyre]

Emilia’s dark eyes were on Rosemary the moment she opened the door and came in. She stayed silent, though her eyes tracked her until she sat down across from her. Of all her children, A scandal with the name Rosemary McIntyre attached to it was not something she’d ever expected. Emilia had been shocked and rightfully so. Rosemary was not the type, she wouldn’t dare. Emilia tried to wrap her mind around what in the world had gotten into her oldest daughter to possess her to do such a thing.

And with a commoner? Her poor nerves in deed. It seemed her Rose was not the same Rose she’d raised her to be. In fact Rosemary had been acting not herself since the engagement with the Bournemouth’s had ended. And the whole house had thought Emilia had been pissed then….

Since Rosemary didn’t move to make her tea, Emilia set her tea cup down. “Tea dear?” She asked her. Her tone surprisingly pleasant, though you could tell it was forced. Whether Rosie wanted it or not, her mother started preparing her cup. Being the dutiful mother she was, she knew how all her children liked their tea, and made Rosemary’s just how she liked it. With a sharp tap tap tap of the spoon hitting the porcelain, and ringing out, Emilia set the tea spoon down and then gestured towards it before she leaned back in her seat.

She was practically coming undone at the seams, and if she was a more dramatic woman, she would have made quite the grievous display. But she wasn’t. Emilia McIntyre was a sharp, cunning, viper who struck at the most opportune moment. She was a master of hiding her emotions, but in those moments as she stared at her daughter, her mouth forming a disapproving tight line, her anger reared itself. “I won’t play coy Rose.” She spoke lowly. Carefully. Afraid if she didn’t she’d fly of the handle at her daughter, and Emilia McIntyre was not that woman, despite how much she wanted to bend her over her knee, and give her a good spanking. “What, in heavens name, possessed you, to have a man” She emphasized the word, “In your bedroom?!” She asked her incredulously. “Enlighten me child, because of the four of you, I did not expect this from you Rosemary Jean.” Emilia said bristling a bit. Did the girl not realize the gravity of the situation? She very well could have just ruined not only her chances, but her siblings chances of finding good matches. Lucas was already pushing it by not being married at this point.

Emilia was more then disappointed at her daughter, she was down right livid.

[Rosemary McIntyre]

Rosemary opened her mouth to turn down the tea, but her mother was already preparing it. Discouraged, she waited in silence, wringing her handkerchief in her lap as she waited. The sharp tap of the spoon against the cup made her flinch. But when her mother gestured for her to take it, she did, forcing herself to take a small sip.

She kept her eyes on the tea instead of her mother as the lecture began, the one she'd been waiting for.

“What, in heavens name, possessed you, to have a man” She emphasized the word, “In your bedroom?!” She asked her incredulously. “Enlighten me, child, because of the four of you, I did not expect this from you, Rosemary Jean.”

Each emphasized word made Rosemary hunch farther down into her chair. She'd hoped that she would have an answer for her mother before she was summoned, some kind of proof...but truly, did she have anything besides her word, and Bastian's? Well, there was Baird, too, so at least it was more than the two of them. But he hadn't been there all night, and even if he had, wouldn't that just have spurred more gossip?

"We had to make it seem that way, Mama, it was supposed to be a trap. Like...Like bait," She held the teacup tighter so it wouldn't rattle, although her hands were beginning to shake. "Bast--I mean, Captain Arcturis--He was helping me. Or, trying to…" This was no good, she wasn't making any sense. Her mother was going to lock her in her room for the rest of her life and forbid her from ever seeing anyone. Or worse, have her betrothed to the first man who would agree--and she had a notion of exactly who would volunteer. Mother would never know she was signing her own daughter's order of execution.

She had to stop her. And there was only one way to do that.

As suddenly as she found her conclusion, Rosemary also jerked forward to set the teacup back on the table, ignoring the way it sloshed onto her hands at the motion. She just smoothed her hands over her skirt and forced herself to sit up straighter. Her lips were pressed into a thin like for a moment before she could spit out the words.

"He was trying to protect me from Magnus. He's back, and he's trying to hurt me again."

[Emilia McIntyre]

Emilia watched her daughter with careful eyes. Giving her a look most mothers mastered by the time their first child could even walk. She could see from the tremble of Rosie’s hands and the way she turned in on herself she knew what she’d done. There had always been a slight strain in their relationship. Emilia wanted Rosemary to be more confident, more sure of herself, and despite her words of encouragement there was nothing to show for it. She loved her daughter, but also wanted her to be able to stand up on her own to two feet. To have a backbone. Both Emilia and her Sister, Rosemary’s aunt Cat were both women that made men quake in fear when they entered a room, my presence alone. Em wanted Rosie to be able to do the same, she just… She just had to find something that would click with her.

Em’s face turned to confused horror as Rosemary started to explain. A trap? A trap for who?! What had Rosemary gotten herself involved in? Was she in danger? Was the captain using her to lure out someone else? Another mystic perhaps? That thought had Emilia’s hackles rising and her overprotective instincts beginning to come out.

Her hands were clenching the arms of her chair as she stared at Rosemary and then she watched as she leaned forward to set her tea down, and then words she hadn’t expect came forth.

“What? Protect you from Magnus Bournemouth? Why would you need protection from that sweet boy after you broke his heart?!” Emilia asked flabbergasted. It didn’t make sense. None of it. As far as Em knew, Rosemary had been the one to call things off after begging her father, and it had left the Bournemouth’s devastated. Emilia had been trying to patch things up with them recently, the only thing that was left was to get Rosemary to reconsider. But this?

Trying to hurt me again.

She felt a chill run down her spine as she carefully leaned forward. A serious look on her face that would tell Rosemary she would need to tread carefully with whatever she was about to say next. “What do you mean, hurt you again. What has he done, Rosemary?” She asked, her voice low.

[Rosemary McIntyre]

:: TW: Sexual Assault/Rape ::

---

"What has he done, Rosemary?"

"I...I didn't want to tell you before. It was bad enough that Father didn't believe me. He--he made me--" She couldn't get the words out.

Emilia shifted in her chair, scooting more towards the edge. Her face softened a bit as she began to realize this might be more serious than she originally thought. "Made you do what Rose?" she urged gently.

"Father made me show him the cuts. He didn't believe that I'd been hiding them...but Magnus put them somewhere no one else would see."

Emilia stiffened, and there was a sudden tension in her. "Rosemary...this is...going to be difficult," she said slowly "But I want you to tell me where he put those cuts."

Rosemary tensed up but forced herself to slowly uncurl her fists. Her voice was barely audible when she answered.

"On the insides of my thighs." Silent tears began to drip down her cheeks. She was so ashamed that she'd let it get that far, that she'd been so violated. Her mother was always pushing for her to be happily married with children, but who was going to want someone like her?

"Did he do anything else to you? Touch you in a way you didn't want?" Emilia asked quietly. There was a darker, almost frightening look in her eye.

Rosemary hesitated. "At first... At first, he was so sweet. Just kisses and flirting...it was our secret. But then he wanted more and more secrets. He said...He said we were as good as married, anyway. That I didn't need to worry." She finally looked up at her mother again with pleading eyes. "I knew better, I did, but he--" She dropped her head again. How could she tell her mother this? Something she hardly wanted to admit to herself? She hadn't even told Father this, after all his questioning.

There was silence for a long moment as Emilia took in what Rosemary had just said. "Did he rape you?" came her very quiet question. If Rosemary looked up, she'd be able to see moisture in her mother's eyes, and that she had a death grip on the arms of her chair.

Rosemary's whole body flinched. To hear it put so plainly like that, it burned like acid. She'd been raped. That was it. It was out in the open, it was real. After a long pause, she finally nodded. But that was all she could do. She couldn't hold back her emotions anymore. In one violent movement, she turned herself, dropped her head and crossed arms onto the arm of the chair and began to sob so hard she could barely breathe. Each one was stronger than the last, making her feel like she wasn't getting enough air as her thin frame shook with the force of it all.

[Emilia McIntyre]

The brown eyes of a helpless mother watched as her child turned from her, throwing herself to the side as she covered her head in her shame and wept, violent, ugly tears. The sound of those sobs filled the silence, and for a moment, Emilia Jean McIntyre didn’t move. She merely looked on as her daughter’s shoulders began to rise and fall more violently with each sob, she felt frozen.

Her body felt nothing but cold. The usual warm flames she felt had been blown out swiftly by the news Rosemary had told her. She found herself falling back into her seat and for a moment she felt like she might be ill. Her stomach rolled and convulsed, and she stood up quickly. Covering her mouth with her hand as she turned away from Rosemary.

How...Why...How could Rosemary have not told her sooner? How could she…live with this knowledge and not tell her own mother? One glance at Rosemary and it was enough to assume that it was shame that had led her to keeping it to herself, and for that, Emilia felt guilt. A despairing hollowness entered her chest, and she realized her hand was shaking against her lips, her other one was in a fist. She herself felt shameful, and helpless, that Rosemary hadn’t felt safe enough to come to her own mother with this news. If she had only told her sooner…

Emilia never questioned her parenting until now as thoughts of what she could have done different filtered through her mind, and she took in a small gasp of air, as she felt a tear roll down her cheek, before she felt the sudden rush of heat through her veins, and anger and rage began to pump through her blood.

How. Fucking. Dare. He.

With quick steps, Emilia moved forward. Not caring if she got a wrinkle in her gown, she got on her knees, and flared out her skirts, before she would put gentle hands on Rosemary's shoulders, pulling her towards her, so she could pull her towards her chest. Her arms wrapping secruly around her, before she’d rest her chin on top of her daughter's head, and sit back on her heels. “Sssssshhh. Ssssshhhh, my brave sweet girl.” Emilia murmured against Rosemary’s dark hair. She started to rock her back and forth much like she had when she was a child, gently rubbing a hand down her back. “I’m so sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me sooner sweetheart.” She pressed a kiss onto the crown of her head, before sniffling as her own tears rolled down her cheeks.

Emilia’s embrace was strong, holding Rosemary tight. The helpless feeling that Emilia felt didn’t go away. She just hugged Rosemary tighter. After a few moments, she would reach down and gently tilt her chin up so she could look into her eyes. There was something dark, angry, and down right murderous in Emilia’s as well as a look of pain. “Listen to me Rosemary.” She spoke quietly. Emilia’s eyes searched her daughters face before placing a quick kiss to her forehead. “You are the strongest girl I know. You may not think it now, but you are, and you are so brave.” Emilia shook her head slightly as she said, gently gripping her chin. “And you’re going to keep your head held high, and you will not let horrible thing consume you. You are going to get better dearest, I promise you.” She said fiercely.

“And if you need me to lend you my strength I will.” She told her gently, before reaching up to wipe some of her tears away. “You aren’t alone in this. Not anymore.” Emilia would pull Rosie into another hug then, kissing the top of her head. “Momma’s here now.” She told her quietly.

[Rosemary McIntyre]

She'd been so ashamed of her secret for so long. She hadn't even told her father, the first person to know that anything was wrong at all. She'd only told him as much as she did because she was frightened for her life--if she'd seen any other way to call off the engagement, he wouldn't have known either. She should have been stronger, should have seen through Magnus sooner, should have shouted for help, should have fought back, should have, should have, should have. She'd thought over it dozens of times, hundreds of times, trying to figure out what she could have done differently, but in the end, it didn't matter. What was done was done, and she was ruined. If she hid it for long enough, perhaps she might have a chance at an advantageous match, but she'd never really believed she would make it that far.

She was deaf to her mother, too lost in her tears to realize that Emilia had moved at all until she was pulled into her arms. She hesitated at first, startled, then abruptly wrapped her arms around her mother's neck and held on for dear life. The crying began to feel like a relief as her mother stroked her hair and she finally let some of her fears go. She was safe, here. The safety she'd been looking for all along, but believed was impossible to find--it was here at home.

As the minutes passed and her mother quietly stroked her hair, Rosemary slowly began to relax, and her breathing returned to normal save for a few hiccupping-gasps here and there. Still, she didn't move, she let herself stay in the moment, reveling in the fact that her mother hadn't turned her away. She'd been so sure that her mother would be angry with her for failing, for keeping secrets, for so many things she'd been blaming herself for all along.

When her mother lifted her chin to look into her eyes, Rosemary's were wide and rimmed with red from crying; she wiped fruitlessly at them with her sleeve. The look in her mother's eye frightened her at first. Had she been wrong, and Emilia was angry with her? No, the kiss to her forehead said otherwise.

“You are the strongest girl I know. You may not think it now, but you are, and you are so brave.” Emilia shook her head slightly as she said, gently gripping her chin. “And you’re going to keep your head held high, and you will not let horrible thing consume you. You are going to get better dearest, I promise you.” She said fiercely.

“And if you need me to lend you my strength I will.” She told her gently, before reaching up to wipe some of her tears away. “You aren’t alone in this. Not anymore.” Emilia would pull Rosie into another hug then, kissing the top of her head. “Momma’s here now.” She told her quietly.

She'd thought she was done crying, but at her mother's words, her eyes filled with tears once more. She was blessed to have a mother like this, she decided. Even if they'd fought when she was growing up, even if her mother didn't always understand her daughter's quiet ways, they were family. She let herself be hugged again, then drew up just enough to kiss her mother lightly on the cheek.

"Love you, Mama." She sniffled.

[Emilia McIntyre]

Yes, despite their differences, Rosemary was of Emilia’s blood. She was her daugther, and Emilia would do anything to protect her children and ensure them happiness. And in the event that someone harmed them? Well...Rosemary was about to find out just the sort of woman her mother could be when one of her babies had been violated against their will.

Magnus Bournemouth would be begging for mercy by the time Emilia was done with him.

“And I love you, my precious girl.” She whispered to her. Squeezing Rosemary tighter as she kissed her temple and then leaned back to wipe away what remained of her tears. “Auntie Cat and I will handle it alright? There’s no reason to be afraid anymore dear.” She told her encouragingly. Yes, Emilia was going to need her sisters help with this, and Cat would an ally they needed that would not only be discrete with Rosemary, but lethal as well. No one else needed to know their plans for the Bournemouth boy.

Emilia started to fuss with her daughter then, tucking her hair behind her ears, wiping her tears away until she looked a bit more put together. Her hands then rested on Rosemary’s shoulders as she gave them a firm squeeze. “He’s never going to harm you again, dearest. Understand?” She told her. Her tone was surprisingly gentle but that look in her eye told a far darker story.

[Rosemary McIntyre]

Rosemary let her mother care for her, relaxing--or maybe more like softening, melting, like flowers recovering after frost, no longer brittle and fragile to the touch. It was like rewinding the clock, traveling back to who she had been before she learned what it was to break. She soaked it up like a flower with thirsty roots.

Soaked it up, that is, until she realized her mother was talking about her and Aunt Cat taking care of Magnus not the scandal with Bastian. Her green eyes went wide, and she shook her head rapidly.

"Mama, Mama you can't. You musn't!" she protested in horror. "Mama he--" she stopped, looking around to ensure no servants were too close. "He's like us, Mama, but worse. Oh, so much worse. His gramarye is all with blood. If something happened to you I--" Her throat closed up as tears threatened to overwhelm her again, and she pressed both hands to her mouth, helplessly shaking her head again.

She couldn't even imagine what Magnus would do to her family if they tried to harm him. This was why she'd never tried to tell before--he'd always given her too many reasons: shame, rejection, murder, slander… Every possible fear lingered at the edge of her mind, pushing her back into his control no matter what direction she tried to turn.

[Emilia McIntyre]

Emilia looked quizzically at Rosemary as she shook her head, looking at her mother like she’d sprouted horns and breathed fire (something she was certain many actually believed her to have). The older woman was patient as her daughter got out the words she wanted to say, and her expression was unchanging as Rosemary told her of Magnus’s abilities. What should have been surprising, was not. As...Emilia already knew what Magnus was capable of thanks to their with the unseelie.

Still, her affection grew for her oldest daughter as she showed her concern. “My sweet, sweet flower,” Emilia said, stroking Rosie’s hair to try and soothe her. It was clear she was terrified. “Magnus Bournemouth is nothing but an insect beneath my shoe, and I will crush him with my heel. You have nothing to worry about alright?” She fixed her dark eyes on Rosie trying to catch her eye. Emilia’s expression was firm, and there was a tightness around her mouth.

She reached for Rosie’s hands and took them between her own. Holding them firmly. “It’s high time you learned just how capable the women in our family are dearest. Aunt Catriona and I have been around for a long time,” No she wasn’t calling herself old! Just wisened. “He will get what’s coming for him, and no one will be harmed by him, you understand?” She told her.

[Rosemary McIntyre]

Rosemary didn't avoid her mother's gaze--in fact, she was staring straight into Emilia's face in wide-eyed, abject panic. She was serious. She was really going to go after Magnus. How could she do that and be so calm about it? Neither Mama nor Aunt Kitty had offensive gramarye, not like the cou--Oh no. Was she planning to get the cousins involved?

She wanted to argue. She wanted desperately to talk her mother out of it, to make sure that no one she loved would be tormented by that man the way she was. But the look on Emilia's face was one she knew all too well: she wasn't going to budge.

When Emilia took Rosie's hands in hers and insisted that Magnus would get what was coming to him, Rosie found, to her surprise, that she believed her. The McIntyre-Lees and the Lee-Fryes were a force to be reckoned with, and they would protect their own without flinching. She'd seen it. One psychopath wasn't enough to derail them….was he?

"...you understand?"

Rosemary nodded slowly. "Just… Please be careful? For my sake?" she pleaded. "He's done enough harm already."