Chapter Text
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Barry knew intellectually, of course, that the lord of the Astral Estate in Davenshire had recently married. He had acted as witness to the young man’s wedding , for goodness’ sake. He was acquainted with Mister Taaco several times over, knew that he was tied to his sister at the hip, knew that he had married into lordship over the estate and all his holdings. He had more than ample connection in his mind between one Taaco and another to fall back on when he received the invitation.
But Barry, clever as he was, had never possessed the knack his mother had for keeping track of the many twists and turns of the social climate that came with this marriage and that. He had never been terribly good at knowing this cousin from that, or exactly which relation of which family would inherit one estate or another, or exactly whom he’d been introduced to at what ball.
All that was to say when he arrived to Lord Kravitz’s estate on his horse that fine Saturday morning, he ought to have been expecting to see Miss Taaco, but by some terrible oversight, he was not, and as such had no opportunity to prepare himself for the re-introduction.
He seemed to be, upon his arrival, the last awaited member of the merry party. He did not know how many Lord Kravitz had invited to his picnic across his well-manicured grounds, but as he rode closer to the house, he saw them, the merry band, standing in the drive before the front entrance. The ladies’ dresses were bright in the sunlight and the men were laughing loudly enough to be heard well down the lane, and all manner of servants stood by with baskets and blankets and sheets for a proper outing.
He dismounted a ways up the drive, handing his horse off to the waiting groom, and, steeling himself, he approached them, that boisterous, joyous party.
It wouldn’t be so bad, he tried to assure himself. He may not have always been considered the most… delicate individual in social situations, but he had been invited, and to refuse Lord Kravitz would not only be exceedingly rude, but would prove him to truly be the reclusive dullard he was expected to be. He had to come. And a picnic was a fine idea, on a summer day such as this. The sun was not shining too hot, and Kravitz’s estate was exceedingly fine, and if he was lucky, he might have the opportunity to take a few hours for reading in the fresh air, rather than shut up in his laboratory.
He could see the group better now, close as he was. Lord Kravitz standing beside his husband, who just as Barry remembered, carried himself with a casual slant, the antithesis of the aristocracy’s stiffness. There was a woman beside them holding a parasol over her head to keep off the sun, another couple, and a short, stout man with graying hair, and -
“There approaches our final companion now!” he heard Kravitz shout from the company, and he saw the man move through the small crowd, jogging over to him to take his hand warmly.
“It’s been too long, Bluejeans,” he said, “ever since my wedding I’ve been near desperation in my wish to reunite you with the rest of my acquaintances. And yet hardly anyone can persuade you out of your home!”
“My work keeps me very busy, my Lord,” Barry replied. The handshake went on longer than he felt entirely comfortable with. He was already sweating. He shouldn’t have come. He always thought that going out would be better than it ever was in reality, and never learned from the mistake.
“Now, Bluejeans, you musn’t stand on ceremony with me,” Kravitz insisted. “I, after all, owe my happiness in part to you. I expect nothing but the warmest of friendships between us from here out, and you must help me see it through.”
“Thank you, then, for your kind invitation,” Barry tried. The man smiled. Thank god.
“We shall have you over more often,” he said, “not two weeks will pass without me dragging you out of your house, mark my words. Now come, let me introduce you to the rest of the party. My husband you know -”
“A pleasure,” Barry said. Taako smiled back, inclined his head slightly. There was something in his eyes that put Barry on edge, but he wasn’t able to read it before -
“And I have been told that you have had the delight of being introduced to his charming sister -”
And she was there, looking at Barry like he had recently returned from the grave, a flush rising to her face, and Barry realized how he had not seen her before. The parasol resting on her shoulder betrayed her; he ought to have noticed her upon his first arrival, but he saw now how the pale canopy had hid her face until this moment. She looked at him, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, looking, for the first and only time Barry had seen her, out of her depth.
Good, he thought to himself, vindictively, let her be out of her depth here. Perhaps she ought to have a taste of it, so in the future she might take more pity on those poor folk among them who had the foolish inclination to act with honest intent.
But he was at lord Kravitz’s estate. And she was newly Lord Kravitz’s sister.
He would not shake her hand, would not afford her that intimacy. Instead, he inclined his head in a small bow.
“Miss Taaco,” he said, “It has been some time since we last met. I trust you are well?”
“I am, Mister Bluejeans, thank you,” she replied softly, still with that - he would say unguarded, if he did not know better - look of shock on her face. She looked for a moment like she had more to say, but Barry nodded again, forcing his face into a stiff smile.
He allowed himself one moment precisely to think how exceedingly beautiful she looked in all her finery, and then he turned away.
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