Lechance

James was stood in front of a florists shop, staring confusedly at the labels adorning the displays of loose flowers that were out in front of him. He put on his glasses, and squinted as he tried to make sense of the name on the tub nearest to him. Exhaling heavily, he turned and saw someone else looking vaguely towards him. "Excuse me, you wouldn't happen to know anything about the language of flowers perchance?"

3pm Tuesday and Mr Jones arrived promptly at the Beloved's Hotel to pick Edward up to escort him to Delilah's studio. He sent up Delilah's card and waited patiently for him in the foyer.

Ben very deliberately came home from work just a bit early, taking off his boots at the door and putting them on the boot jack and starting a pot of tea before moving through the house and searching for his house, hoping his husband had done the same, "Jon?"

Dearest Beloved,

I have heard from my family requesting that we visit them soon and although I do miss them terribly and want nothing more than to introduce them to the wonderful man I've married, I feel that perhaps now is not the best time for us to be leaving LeChance.

With all that is going on around town, I believe we are needed here. I realize that sounds quite arrogant, but I think we can help with what is going on here and that need is more important than my desire to show you my home.

I hope you don't find that to be too selfish of me and if you have objections, we can begin planning that trip right away. After your recent letter from your mother, I worry that you'll think perhaps I'm delaying meeting my family because of any number of reasons, but that is not the case at all. I simply feel that if we leave now, we'll be abandoning our responsibilities to this place that we've chosen to make our home.

I do hope this makes sense and I'd like to claim your time this evening as my own so that we may discuss this and spend some time together.

All my love,
Jon

Patrick turned up at the Beloveds' hotel with an armful of lilies (arranged in a long boquet and adorned with a huge white bow) and the bookish Mr Wilkins in tow as chaperone.

He was looking a lot smarter than he had when he'd bumped into Amy on the street in his work clothes. He'd made enough money now, with the incredible wealth of early-blooming flowers in LeChance, to buy a new suit, in pale ochre, and his cravat and the handkerchief in his pocket were a dull green. The colours of the earth. They suited him, and he knew it.

He sent up his card to Amy and waited in the parlour he was shown into, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He'd liked Amy - a little timid, maybe, but surely a man could coax her into a little more courage if he tried? He was, he had to admit, excited and looking forward to this.

Santiago had acquired a new suit since the last time he'd called on Mr. Belgrave. New suit, new shoes. The chaperone, however, was the same. He sent his card up to let the other man know he'd arrived and kept his hands behind his back as he waited. He'd found something he hoped the other man would appreciate.

To say things were moving fast in Daniel's world was an understatement at best. He'd barely gotten in and settled, hardly started thinking about unpacking and arranging the boxes and crates and barrels waiting in the general store when he had word from Leroy that he had an appointment to keep. So in the midst of other organizing, he dug out the nicest clothes he'd brought with him, cleaned himself up and shaved and made plans to do just that. Go out and meet the Beloved Leroy thought might suit.

Which was how he ended up in the lobby of the hotel, watching the staircase hopefully on a late morning. He'd gone outside long enough to find flowers and rummaged through the stores things to find a decent length of trimming to bind around the stems so that he could make a makeshift bouquet. Then he'd headed back in, sent word up to Miss Blackwood and traded a few uncertain smiles with Gregor Hastings, the chaperone.

Jonas arrived promptly at 5pm on Wednesday at Mercedes' place. He'd brushed up well, his hair slicked back, shoes polished, and he was wearing a smart new red shirt, along with his dress trousers and waistcoat. Clutched in his right hand was a small posy of unseasonal but very pretty wildflowers that hed collected this morning from the fields, and in his pocket in a small bottle was a tincture, carefully procurred from the Apothecary.

He took several long breaths to settle himself, and knocked firmly on the door

The announcement about the meeting had been cried every day for the past week; every citizen had been strongly encouraged to attend.

Since it had the possibility of running for a long time -- and to give it the appropriate sense of seriousness -- the meeting was held in the cathedral, one of the only places in LeChance that could seat most of the town. Leroy stood behind the lectern, quietly talking to Ms. Sheedy as the crowd gathered. He looked tired but determined.

He invited Jonas and his staff to sit at the front of the space with him, giving them a brief rundown of what he planned and giving them a chance to voice objections or suggestions before the idea was placed before the town. Others at the front of the hall included Father Marks, the judge, council members, a historian and the principal of the schools.

Finally, on the hour, Anastacia Mason, the town crier, stepped forward and called for all to be seated and settled. She read a few commonplace announcements before introducing Leroy and moving unobtrusively to the side.

Leroy stepped up, hands behind his back and took a breath as he ordered his thoughts.

( My fellow citizens... )

( Letters to Ascendants )

( Beloveds )

Santiago had decided to treat himself to lunch at the Black Sheep. He was surprised to find it crowded but then again, he supposed there were many people in the town that didn't like to cook for themselves.

He approached a solitary figure at a table and smiled pleasantly. "Please forgive the intrusion but do you mind if I share your table?"

Dear Mr. Wilder,

It's been quite some time since our last meeting; a fact that has been much lamented. I have, at long last, been released to leave my home and have visitors once again. I hope you do not think me too forward if I ask you for the pleasure of your company. Your presence has been sorely missed and remembered fondly.

Sincerely,
Mercedes

The last few weeks had been a bit hazy for Mercedes, a summer cold took hold in her lungs and refused to be budged. Eventually, the cough that had threatened to crack her ribs slowly subsided and she was able to get out of bed and move about, although she moved very slowly and found herself out of breath with marked frequency.

She'd lost weight and her hair and skin looked dull and drab, both of which were causing her far more distress than they warranted. Her gowns didn't fit quite right, but despite that, she was eager to be out of the house again. It seemed ages ago that she'd been declared contagious and cut off from contact with everyone and Mercedes was eager to reconnect with several people. Most specifically, with a certain Sheriff.

Honestly, she was somewhat worried that Jonas was no longer interested, but despite that she sat down and started writing him an invitation.

Leo had been doing what she could to gather information for the sheriff but reports were slow coming in. She'd taken to patrolling at night, haunting both the stables and the stockyards to see if she could spot whatever had attacked Jonas' animals.

It was morning now, just, and she had her hands wrapped around a strong cup of coffee as she sat on the steps of the office.

(A card with the address of Delilah's Studio on, and the following letter are delivered to the Beloved's Hotel)

Dear Mr. Parsons,

Further to our conversation the other week, I wondered if you were still available for afternoon tea? If you're agreeable, I could arrange for a myself and a chaperone to call at the Hotel, at say around four in the afternoon this coming Monday? Or alternatively, I should be free from work from around two in the afternoon on the same day, if you'd prefer to meet at my studio instead? Please let me know what would best suit yourself, as my work and home hours are quite flexible.

It was delightful to meet you the other week, and I hope the New Year is seeing you well thus far.

Regards,
Delilah Morgan

He should probably go see the town doctor, if he's going to put together a practice. So despite the fact that he's feeling terribly shy of just about everyone these days, he squared his shoulders, borrowed a chaperone from the Beloveds' hotel, and headed over to office hours.

"Excuse me, sir, are you the doctor?"

Jon was still seeing red every time he thought about Ben's mother's letter to him. How dare she presume to know anything about him or their marriage. Jon could be a decently laid back guy at times, but the way she'd messed with Ben's head was crossing the line.

He was currently sitting at the in, a glass of whiskey between his hands, but the drink was untouched. Jon's knuckles were fair near white from the way he was gripping it.

Effie was taking advantage of the warm weather, and sitting out on the porch of the house with her pillow on her lap. Her feet were tucked up on a stool, as she still had lingering nerves about whatever those metal skittering things had been returning, and she was certain those had been responsible for the damage to her threads. Such a little thing, in appearance, but so much to her. The box of threads was at her side, another box of bobbins next to it, and she was trying to wind pairs to start the next pattern.

Trying. The thread came to an abrupt end again, and she swore fervently, very Glaswegian and thoroughly unladylike, before glancing up and blushing hard, eyes widening as she caught sight of the person passing on the street. "Oh, I'm that sorry, ye'll forgive me, please, for saying such?"

Each morning, Paul held open surgery hours from ten until twelve. Each afternoon, he received appointed patients from two until five. Each Tuesday he paid visits where necessary, which meant that Tuesday late morning found him walking home for lunch, pausing with a smile to raise his hat to the person approaching along the sidewalk, and moved to the roadside to allow them to pass. "Good morning to you."

( Letter )