The tone in her father’s voice is one that stops her in her tracks. She had been in the process of chasing one of the younger children around the manor, but she’s heard it enough times to know that command in his voice. Miranda and Derek have never been as close as he and Patience have and she’s always been a bit wilder than her sister. Her mother often accused her of taking after her father, and it’s an insult Miranda would often tell her, playfully, to take back, but whatever the cause is, Derek’s “disapproving parent” tone is often enough to stop any one of his children in their tracks.
She laces her hands behind her back and straightens with a small smile. “Yes, Father?”
He watches her for a moment, before tipping his head to the side for her to follow him. There’s a small exhale of a sigh, as he turns his back to her, her face dropping as she moves to fall in step next to him, not wanting to say anything and simply waiting for him to drop whatever bomb he is holding.
“We need to talk about your prospects.”
Her face frowns for a moment, her brow furrowing as she paces through those words. “You said I would be allowed to choose my future in that regard.”
“I did. And I’m not taking that choice away from you.”
“Even with my normal human hearing I can hear the ‘but’ coming,” she says sullenly.
He glances back at her, and his face softens for a moment, before taking one arm and placing it around her shoulders. “I’m not taking the choice away from you. But sometimes you need to acknowledge potential prospects the old fashioned way.”
Miranda groans. “I already don’t like this.”
“Lord Sumpter has sent me a request –”
Her face is immediately horrified at the prospect. Lord Sumpter was an old, egotistical ass of a man, and she already knew that she would rather cut off her own hand than consider giving it to him. She opens her mouth to say as much, before Derek holds up his own hand to cut her off.
“ – For his son, Andrew.”
There’s a long pause as she processes that statement. Andrew Sumpter, Lord Sumpter’s heir was older than her by six years, and had two young children, ages four and two. She’s never seen his wife, but he most assuredly has had at least one, given the way Lord Sumpter tends to run his mouth about children born out of wedlock.
In fact, her sister in particular has been a frequent target of his jabs.
“I thought Andrew was married.”
“His wife passed away after the birth of his son. But apparently, he’s shown an interest in you. He’s requested that you come spend the summer at their manor.” He withdraws the letter and extends it to her for her to read. “Normally, the duty would fall on the potential suitor to come to you, and he says he would understand if you didn’t want to break those norms, but with his children being so young and he being their only living parent, he hopes that you will make the accommodation.”
Miranda takes the letter from him to read it herself, wanting to digest the words as though that may help her understand it. Andrew Sumpter had always seemed kind when they interacted previously, but the Lord had been blessed with two sons and the younger Sumpter was much closer to her age.
“You’re certain it’s Andrew, not George.”
Derek gives her a look. “Do you have so little faith in me? I would have rejected it immediately if it was for George.” The younger Sumpter had been developing a reputation not unsimilar to the one her father had when he was younger, though considerably less favorable with the women of the courts. While quite the lothario, he didn’t treat his lovers with the same care that Derek had, and it’s lost him some favor among the women in England and France.
“Just making certain,” she sighs. The idea of being left alone in the Sumpter House with strange men for an entire summer with no recourse is not the greatest thing she’s ever heard, but she also isn’t sure she has very many options. If she rejects the offer, she is fairly certain that there is a lecture coming about not running from the possibilities presented to her, but it doesn’t seem safe, either. Particularly for someone who’s human. “You realize the paradox in this, don’t you? By saying it’s my choice but not really being a choice at all.”
“I do. But I think that there is potential in it, so being your father, I’m allowed to nudge you a little.”
“Do I have to go alone?”
“I’ve spoken with your aunt, and if you like, Gracin can go with you.”
She exhales slowly, and nods. As much as she’s sure she can take care of herself, having her cousin as her back up is preferred to say the least. “Thank you.”
“So is that a yes?”
“Is no really an option?”
Derek smirks slightly, and leans in to press a kiss to her temple. “Simply be open to the possibilities. That’s all I ask.”
She sighs, before nodding. She’ll make an attempt. But how open still remains to be seen.
* * * * *
Andrew Sumpter is a tall man, with broad shoulders and a kind face. She remembers the gossips in Mystic Falls used to speculate for hours about who he would eventually marry, but it’s been years since she’s really seen him in court, and the expectation is quite different from the reality. A mop of dark hair sits on his head, he’s clothing simple, but well cared for, and he’s currently not paying attention to their carriages as she and Gracin make their approach to their summer home. Gracin has been watching her for most of the trip and he nudges her leg gently, drawing her attention back to him.
“I could just tell them to keep going, you know. Claim some kind of family emergency.”
“No, it’s fine.” She gives a small shrug as she adjusts her clothing. “The Hales are a family of their word. Though I would feel much more comfortable if I was a werewolf right now.”
“Hey now,” He smiles softly. “We human folks can take care of ourselves. Just because we’re not wolves, doesn’t mean we’re defenseless.”
“I know. But this feels a bit like a lion’s den.” As the carriages come to a stop, two other men walk up to join him, one stern and gray, constantly looking down his nose at the rest of them, while the other is the youngest of the three, with slicked back blond hair and his father’s same stern expression. Miranda dislikes them both already.
“Lady Hale. Welcome to the Sumpter Estate.” Lord Sumpter’s voice is even constantly condescending. “We are pleased that Lord and Lady Hale have allowed you to share our estate with us.”
“We thank you for the invitation,” Gracin smiles as he makes his way out of the carriage and Miranda watches as the faces of the other two men fall. Andrew, on the other hand, seems amused, and she isn’t sure if that’s a point for or against him yet. Gracin is also amused and he extends his hand back to Miranda to assist her out of the carriage.
“You seem surprised,” she begins, stepping down and smoothing out her dress from the journey. “Did you not receive my father’s letter with his stipulations for my journey here?”
Lord Sumpter clears his throat, straightening again as he covers his surprise. “Yes, of course. Though when he said your cousin, I thought he was referring to Amelia.”
“As lovely as it would be were my sister to be able to attend, she unfortunately is in the throes of planning her own wedding,” Gracin says, his tone managing to mock the condescension in the other man’s voice without being completely rude, a trait he learned from his mother. “I apologize for the disappointment.”
“No, not it all, my lord. It’s simply that we arranged the guest rooms – ”
“In the guest wing, I assume,” Miranda’s eyebrows raise before he could finish that sentence. “As we are guests, aren’t we?”
“Yes, of course. But the rooms are quite … close.”
“Perfect,” Gracin smiles, giving Miranda’s hand a squeeze, pretending to be oblivious to the questionable location of his cousin and potentially his sister’s room. Little do the Sumpters know that whatever nefarious deeds they had planned, it likely would have been worse if Amelia was here. “It will be just like home.”
Andrew, finally, clears his throat and steps forward to put himself between their guests and his father. “Perhaps I can escort you both to those rooms? Your servants will follow with your things.”
“Yes,” Miranda says with a small nod. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
Andrew offers his arm, and she takes it gently, with Gracin following close behind them. As they pass into the archway, she exhales slowly, knowing that the worst has only just begun. This is going to be a long summer.
* * * * *
The Sumpter Estate reminds her a bit of a tomb.
It’s a bit of an exaggeration, and not something she would ever say out loud, but in a lot of ways the silence is deafening. In comparison to the Hale Manor, where there are children and people everywhere and the world is full of sound and laughter, the Sumpter Estate is cold and uncomfortable, and Miranda does her best to leave the winding maze of hallways and empty rooms as often as she can. Particularly as things get worse rather than better as Lord Sumpter introduces her to his dinner guests.
“This is Lady Miranda Hale, the eldest daughter of Derek and Elena Hale, and her cousin, Lord Gracin Parrish.”
“Second eldest,” she corrects without even thinking about it, not afraid to interrupt because that’s not how she was raised. “My sister Patience is the oldest.”
Lord Sumpter eyes her for a moment, daring her to choose her next words carefully. “She is only your half sister. I know things may be different in the North, but here we do not choose to acknowledge the illegitimate.”
She raises her eyebrows for a moment. “My father claimed her as his own and my mother raised her. How much more of my sister does she need to be? This may not be the North, my Lord, but that is where I was raised, and it is not your position to tell me who is kin to me and who is not.” She’s waiting for Gracin’s had on her arm, because she knows that the dual purpose in sending him as her escort was to wheel her back when she was being unreasonable, but this doesn’t seem to be one of those moments. Lord Sumpter is clearly turning red with anger, however, and he slams his napkin down on the able as he leans in to stare her down, but she meets his gaze dead on, until Andrew clears his throat.
“Father, we do have guests. Perhaps we could debate Lady Hale’s lineage another time?”
That seems to break the stalemate for the moment, the lord looking away and Miranda settling back into her seat. One of the other guests is quick pick up the slack for dinner conversation, and once things have drifted considerably away from her for a moment, Andrew leans in next to her to whisper in her ear.
“Please don’t take that as a sign of disapproval,” he murmurs before turning back to his food. “I think he could use someone to stand up to him more often.”
Miranda isn’t quite sure what to make of that, but he does leave her with the resolve to not let herself be alone with either of the other members of the family if she could help it. Andrew, however, may just be safe.
She also spends as much time outside as she can, using it to escape the way the walls make it feel like she’s trapped in a prison. She spends most of her afternoons reading in the garden under a tree, and it takes two weeks before a tiny dark head appears from behind the tree, peering at the book in her lap. Miranda pretends not to see it for the moment, before a second head joins her, this one a boy and much less prone to quiet observation.
“What are you reading?”
The question is innocent enough, and she turns to face him more as she slips the ribbon she’s using to mark her place into the space between the pages. “It’s an adventure story, about pirates and buried treasure.”
Both children’s eyes widen and while the girl’s seem apprehensive, the boy, who can’t be more than three, seems thrilled. “I love pirates!”
Miranda grins widely at him. “Me too. And, to make matters worse, the treasure is cursed!” There’s an audible gasp from the girl, who is slightly older at about five. “And now the heroes have to find a way to save themselves from the curse, but still keep the treasure.”
“They let you read books like that?” The girl seems baffled, because pirates are certainly not ladylike, and Miranda smiles before nodding.
“My father believes that the worlds you visit should only be as limited as the number of books you have at your disposal.”
“My grandfather said that girls aren’t allowed to be pirates.”
Miranda pauses, before she leans in, “Can I tell you a secret?” The girl nods. “I think your grandfather is a dummy.” Both of their eyes go wide, and they smack their hands over their mouth almost simultaneously, though Miranda can see the edges of their smiles around their tiny hands. “In fact!” She pushes herself up from her sitting position, dusting the grass off her long skirts and placing her hands on her hips. “I think we should be pirates right now.”
Both children’s eyes go wide again, though this time it’s with excitement. “Can we do that?”
“I don’t see why not. After all, we are cunning and clever folk, ready to forge our own way in the world.” The children seem so baffled by the idea of play in general, and it breaks her heart to see it in children so young, but she’s determined to give them a taste of it now. “What say ye, mateys? Shall we go and find our fortune?”
“Aye!” the little one cries out in return, but the girl still looks uncertain.
“I can’t hear you.”
The girl considers for a moment, before she manages to find her voice and joins in. “Aye!”
Miranda grins and points off to an empty part of the grove nearby. “Then off we go!”
Their names are Sarah and Brian – Sarah after their grandmother and Brian after their mother, Brianna. They spend a good hour running through the groves and pillaging ships, making far more noise in that time than she had heard than in her entire visit thus far. It only stops, because as they are getting closer to the sitting gardens, and the children both freeze when they see their father and Gracin emerge from the manor, almost as though they’re convinced they’re doing something wrong. Andrew seems pleased, however, in his own quiet way.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he begins softly. “But I was hoping to get some time with you this afternoon, Miranda.”
Right. She’s here to see if he is a viable husband, not charm his children. She straightens a bit, smoothing her dress some as she weighs her options there, before glancing over to her cousin. “Alright mateys. I am passing control of this shift to my first mate here.” She glances up at Gracin and he nods, falling in to the ruse easily before giving a small salute, and Miranda gives him one in return. “Take care of me ship.”
“I will protect it with me life.” Pirates is a game that she and Gracing played often as children so it doesn’t take much for him to slip into the role and sending them charging off into the groves, one child under each arm.
august 19: reverse crush | miranda & andrew | 3,700 | part 1
The tone in her father’s voice is one that stops her in her tracks. She had been in the process of chasing one of the younger children around the manor, but she’s heard it enough times to know that command in his voice. Miranda and Derek have never been as close as he and Patience have and she’s always been a bit wilder than her sister. Her mother often accused her of taking after her father, and it’s an insult Miranda would often tell her, playfully, to take back, but whatever the cause is, Derek’s “disapproving parent” tone is often enough to stop any one of his children in their tracks.
She laces her hands behind her back and straightens with a small smile. “Yes, Father?”
He watches her for a moment, before tipping his head to the side for her to follow him. There’s a small exhale of a sigh, as he turns his back to her, her face dropping as she moves to fall in step next to him, not wanting to say anything and simply waiting for him to drop whatever bomb he is holding.
“We need to talk about your prospects.”
Her face frowns for a moment, her brow furrowing as she paces through those words. “You said I would be allowed to choose my future in that regard.”
“I did. And I’m not taking that choice away from you.”
“Even with my normal human hearing I can hear the ‘but’ coming,” she says sullenly.
He glances back at her, and his face softens for a moment, before taking one arm and placing it around her shoulders. “I’m not taking the choice away from you. But sometimes you need to acknowledge potential prospects the old fashioned way.”
Miranda groans. “I already don’t like this.”
“Lord Sumpter has sent me a request –”
Her face is immediately horrified at the prospect. Lord Sumpter was an old, egotistical ass of a man, and she already knew that she would rather cut off her own hand than consider giving it to him. She opens her mouth to say as much, before Derek holds up his own hand to cut her off.
“ – For his son, Andrew.”
There’s a long pause as she processes that statement. Andrew Sumpter, Lord Sumpter’s heir was older than her by six years, and had two young children, ages four and two. She’s never seen his wife, but he most assuredly has had at least one, given the way Lord Sumpter tends to run his mouth about children born out of wedlock.
In fact, her sister in particular has been a frequent target of his jabs.
“I thought Andrew was married.”
“His wife passed away after the birth of his son. But apparently, he’s shown an interest in you. He’s requested that you come spend the summer at their manor.” He withdraws the letter and extends it to her for her to read. “Normally, the duty would fall on the potential suitor to come to you, and he says he would understand if you didn’t want to break those norms, but with his children being so young and he being their only living parent, he hopes that you will make the accommodation.”
Miranda takes the letter from him to read it herself, wanting to digest the words as though that may help her understand it. Andrew Sumpter had always seemed kind when they interacted previously, but the Lord had been blessed with two sons and the younger Sumpter was much closer to her age.
“You’re certain it’s Andrew, not George.”
Derek gives her a look. “Do you have so little faith in me? I would have rejected it immediately if it was for George.” The younger Sumpter had been developing a reputation not unsimilar to the one her father had when he was younger, though considerably less favorable with the women of the courts. While quite the lothario, he didn’t treat his lovers with the same care that Derek had, and it’s lost him some favor among the women in England and France.
“Just making certain,” she sighs. The idea of being left alone in the Sumpter House with strange men for an entire summer with no recourse is not the greatest thing she’s ever heard, but she also isn’t sure she has very many options. If she rejects the offer, she is fairly certain that there is a lecture coming about not running from the possibilities presented to her, but it doesn’t seem safe, either. Particularly for someone who’s human. “You realize the paradox in this, don’t you? By saying it’s my choice but not really being a choice at all.”
“I do. But I think that there is potential in it, so being your father, I’m allowed to nudge you a little.”
“Do I have to go alone?”
“I’ve spoken with your aunt, and if you like, Gracin can go with you.”
She exhales slowly, and nods. As much as she’s sure she can take care of herself, having her cousin as her back up is preferred to say the least. “Thank you.”
“So is that a yes?”
“Is no really an option?”
Derek smirks slightly, and leans in to press a kiss to her temple. “Simply be open to the possibilities. That’s all I ask.”
She sighs, before nodding. She’ll make an attempt. But how open still remains to be seen.
Andrew Sumpter is a tall man, with broad shoulders and a kind face. She remembers the gossips in Mystic Falls used to speculate for hours about who he would eventually marry, but it’s been years since she’s really seen him in court, and the expectation is quite different from the reality. A mop of dark hair sits on his head, he’s clothing simple, but well cared for, and he’s currently not paying attention to their carriages as she and Gracin make their approach to their summer home. Gracin has been watching her for most of the trip and he nudges her leg gently, drawing her attention back to him.
“I could just tell them to keep going, you know. Claim some kind of family emergency.”
“No, it’s fine.” She gives a small shrug as she adjusts her clothing. “The Hales are a family of their word. Though I would feel much more comfortable if I was a werewolf right now.”
“Hey now,” He smiles softly. “We human folks can take care of ourselves. Just because we’re not wolves, doesn’t mean we’re defenseless.”
“I know. But this feels a bit like a lion’s den.” As the carriages come to a stop, two other men walk up to join him, one stern and gray, constantly looking down his nose at the rest of them, while the other is the youngest of the three, with slicked back blond hair and his father’s same stern expression. Miranda dislikes them both already.
“Lady Hale. Welcome to the Sumpter Estate.” Lord Sumpter’s voice is even constantly condescending. “We are pleased that Lord and Lady Hale have allowed you to share our estate with us.”
“We thank you for the invitation,” Gracin smiles as he makes his way out of the carriage and Miranda watches as the faces of the other two men fall. Andrew, on the other hand, seems amused, and she isn’t sure if that’s a point for or against him yet. Gracin is also amused and he extends his hand back to Miranda to assist her out of the carriage.
“You seem surprised,” she begins, stepping down and smoothing out her dress from the journey. “Did you not receive my father’s letter with his stipulations for my journey here?”
Lord Sumpter clears his throat, straightening again as he covers his surprise. “Yes, of course. Though when he said your cousin, I thought he was referring to Amelia.”
“As lovely as it would be were my sister to be able to attend, she unfortunately is in the throes of planning her own wedding,” Gracin says, his tone managing to mock the condescension in the other man’s voice without being completely rude, a trait he learned from his mother. “I apologize for the disappointment.”
“No, not it all, my lord. It’s simply that we arranged the guest rooms – ”
“In the guest wing, I assume,” Miranda’s eyebrows raise before he could finish that sentence. “As we are guests, aren’t we?”
“Yes, of course. But the rooms are quite … close.”
“Perfect,” Gracin smiles, giving Miranda’s hand a squeeze, pretending to be oblivious to the questionable location of his cousin and potentially his sister’s room. Little do the Sumpters know that whatever nefarious deeds they had planned, it likely would have been worse if Amelia was here. “It will be just like home.”
Andrew, finally, clears his throat and steps forward to put himself between their guests and his father. “Perhaps I can escort you both to those rooms? Your servants will follow with your things.”
“Yes,” Miranda says with a small nod. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
Andrew offers his arm, and she takes it gently, with Gracin following close behind them. As they pass into the archway, she exhales slowly, knowing that the worst has only just begun. This is going to be a long summer.
The Sumpter Estate reminds her a bit of a tomb.
It’s a bit of an exaggeration, and not something she would ever say out loud, but in a lot of ways the silence is deafening. In comparison to the Hale Manor, where there are children and people everywhere and the world is full of sound and laughter, the Sumpter Estate is cold and uncomfortable, and Miranda does her best to leave the winding maze of hallways and empty rooms as often as she can. Particularly as things get worse rather than better as Lord Sumpter introduces her to his dinner guests.
“This is Lady Miranda Hale, the eldest daughter of Derek and Elena Hale, and her cousin, Lord Gracin Parrish.”
“Second eldest,” she corrects without even thinking about it, not afraid to interrupt because that’s not how she was raised. “My sister Patience is the oldest.”
Lord Sumpter eyes her for a moment, daring her to choose her next words carefully. “She is only your half sister. I know things may be different in the North, but here we do not choose to acknowledge the illegitimate.”
She raises her eyebrows for a moment. “My father claimed her as his own and my mother raised her. How much more of my sister does she need to be? This may not be the North, my Lord, but that is where I was raised, and it is not your position to tell me who is kin to me and who is not.” She’s waiting for Gracin’s had on her arm, because she knows that the dual purpose in sending him as her escort was to wheel her back when she was being unreasonable, but this doesn’t seem to be one of those moments. Lord Sumpter is clearly turning red with anger, however, and he slams his napkin down on the able as he leans in to stare her down, but she meets his gaze dead on, until Andrew clears his throat.
“Father, we do have guests. Perhaps we could debate Lady Hale’s lineage another time?”
That seems to break the stalemate for the moment, the lord looking away and Miranda settling back into her seat. One of the other guests is quick pick up the slack for dinner conversation, and once things have drifted considerably away from her for a moment, Andrew leans in next to her to whisper in her ear.
“Please don’t take that as a sign of disapproval,” he murmurs before turning back to his food. “I think he could use someone to stand up to him more often.”
Miranda isn’t quite sure what to make of that, but he does leave her with the resolve to not let herself be alone with either of the other members of the family if she could help it. Andrew, however, may just be safe.
She also spends as much time outside as she can, using it to escape the way the walls make it feel like she’s trapped in a prison. She spends most of her afternoons reading in the garden under a tree, and it takes two weeks before a tiny dark head appears from behind the tree, peering at the book in her lap. Miranda pretends not to see it for the moment, before a second head joins her, this one a boy and much less prone to quiet observation.
“What are you reading?”
The question is innocent enough, and she turns to face him more as she slips the ribbon she’s using to mark her place into the space between the pages. “It’s an adventure story, about pirates and buried treasure.”
Both children’s eyes widen and while the girl’s seem apprehensive, the boy, who can’t be more than three, seems thrilled. “I love pirates!”
Miranda grins widely at him. “Me too. And, to make matters worse, the treasure is cursed!” There’s an audible gasp from the girl, who is slightly older at about five. “And now the heroes have to find a way to save themselves from the curse, but still keep the treasure.”
“They let you read books like that?” The girl seems baffled, because pirates are certainly not ladylike, and Miranda smiles before nodding.
“My father believes that the worlds you visit should only be as limited as the number of books you have at your disposal.”
“My grandfather said that girls aren’t allowed to be pirates.”
Miranda pauses, before she leans in, “Can I tell you a secret?” The girl nods. “I think your grandfather is a dummy.” Both of their eyes go wide, and they smack their hands over their mouth almost simultaneously, though Miranda can see the edges of their smiles around their tiny hands. “In fact!” She pushes herself up from her sitting position, dusting the grass off her long skirts and placing her hands on her hips. “I think we should be pirates right now.”
Both children’s eyes go wide again, though this time it’s with excitement. “Can we do that?”
“I don’t see why not. After all, we are cunning and clever folk, ready to forge our own way in the world.” The children seem so baffled by the idea of play in general, and it breaks her heart to see it in children so young, but she’s determined to give them a taste of it now. “What say ye, mateys? Shall we go and find our fortune?”
“Aye!” the little one cries out in return, but the girl still looks uncertain.
“I can’t hear you.”
The girl considers for a moment, before she manages to find her voice and joins in. “Aye!”
Miranda grins and points off to an empty part of the grove nearby. “Then off we go!”
Their names are Sarah and Brian – Sarah after their grandmother and Brian after their mother, Brianna. They spend a good hour running through the groves and pillaging ships, making far more noise in that time than she had heard than in her entire visit thus far. It only stops, because as they are getting closer to the sitting gardens, and the children both freeze when they see their father and Gracin emerge from the manor, almost as though they’re convinced they’re doing something wrong. Andrew seems pleased, however, in his own quiet way.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he begins softly. “But I was hoping to get some time with you this afternoon, Miranda.”
Right. She’s here to see if he is a viable husband, not charm his children. She straightens a bit, smoothing her dress some as she weighs her options there, before glancing over to her cousin. “Alright mateys. I am passing control of this shift to my first mate here.” She glances up at Gracin and he nods, falling in to the ruse easily before giving a small salute, and Miranda gives him one in return. “Take care of me ship.”
“I will protect it with me life.” Pirates is a game that she and Gracing played often as children so it doesn’t take much for him to slip into the role and sending them charging off into the groves, one child under each arm.