Chapter Twenty Three - Proposals of Marriage

Dinner had been... eventful.  Nellie's blunt manner and unsubtle hints pertaining to Master Matthew as husband and herself as wife caused no end of discomfort for their guest, let alone her own family, earning her nothing but a fair scolding from her parents once Matthew had departed.  She had broken down in tears, ungracefully wailing; her parents did not wish her to be happy!  Becoming Mrs Westcott was her destiny, just Matthew was too shy to request her hand when they hadn't known each other that long.  But it was love, I tell you, love!

Cornelius honestly believed that he would not hear from Matthew again and felt a faint disappointment from such thoughts.  All the following day, he ignored the nagging ache in his heart, but not even his precious music boxes could keep the feeling at bay.  He did not see his sister and she did not come to see him, but he heard from the maid, who was gossiping in the garden beneath his open window that the girl looked frightful, her eyes swollen and nose glowing red.  He did feel a little sorry for, but believed that she had brought it on herself.

The next day began in a manner not much better.  The family met at breakfast and included Nellie, who continuously sniffled in her grievance.  One by one, their patience snapped and they rose from their seats, leaving their half finished meals and Nellie behind.  Cornelius, being the softer hearted of the bunch left last, but his sister did not seem to care either way.  As he left the dining room, the door bell chimed and he watched their butler answer the door.

"Young Master Westcott!" He heard the butler say.  With a quick glance behind him, he noticed that Nellie was too into her personal suffering to hear the butler's remark, but that did not mean she would fail to notice for long, so he rushed to the door to intercept the men.  Uncharacteristically and just a little rudely, he pushed Matthew out of the door, grabbed his shoes and followed him out onto the street.  The butler was left standing in the hall, a look of shock upon his face as Cornelius dragged the young Master by the arm until they were out of sight of the house.  Matthew was surprised by his action, but knowing his arm was being held by his lover, he was cursing more the fashion of long layered clothing in this world's era.

"Should I inquire?" He asked, casually.  Cornelius instantly dropped his hold in shame making Matthew wish he'd held his tongue.

"I'm sorry," Cornelius apologised profusely.  "It was just... you see my sister..." he fidgeted uncomfortably.  How was he to explain without offering insult? It was simply too hard!  Was it any wonder he was not a suitable heir for his father's business?!

"Your sister?" Matthew was intelligent enough to understand that which was not said and was hopeful enough to glean even deeper meaning.  But still, Cornelius cared for his sister, he could not say what he truly thought about the girl.  "Your sister has a quite... colourful character."

Being as simple with words as Matthew was clever, Cornelius failed to understand what Matthew meant.  In fact, he took the words as a compliment and felt uncomfortable.  "If you wish to court my sister," he blurted, "you surely needn't be meeting with me.  My father would be pleased to accommodate you, I am sure."  He turned away as if to leave, only Matthew prevented him by grasping his shoulder.

"Whoever said I wish to court the girl," he asked, his words held a touch of anger, which frightened Cornelius.  He really was no good!  Matthew turned Cornelius to face him.  "I'll be honest, your sister is a fine young woman, I am sure.  But I have no interest in courting her any more than any of the ladies who throw themselves at me on a daily basis."

The exasperated and tired look upon Matthew's face had Cornelius apologising again.  "I'm sorry!"

"It is alright," Matthew sighed, feeling pained that he had scared the other man.  "You needn't apologise.  It simply frustrates me that I am like the fox of the hunt.  Every young maiden and their doting mothers, even my parents and acquaintances are so interested in tying me down in the name of matrimony.  It is overwhelming at times.  I simply did not wish that of you as well."

"Wh-what is it you wish of me?" Cornelius whispered.  Being the incompetent son, he was not used to be approached unless in terms of wanting him to introduce them to his father for business or his sister for courting.  Despite her sharptongue, from a distance, the girl was still quite the catch after all.

I want you writhing beneath me, calling my name and drowning in our love.  Of course Matthew could not say this aloud, instead muting his answer to a mere; "I simply wish for your friendship."

"But why?"

"Why?" Matthew thought about his answer for a moment.  "All of those around me seek to want things from me, be that the prestige of my name, business with my family or marriage.  You have never asked me for anything."

"I-I did!" Cornelius blurted out, loudly.  "I asked to see your watch!"

Matthew looked at his honest face and laughed.  "Yes, that is true.  But you quickly returned it, even if you didn't really want too and asked nothing more."  Cornelius blushed in memory.  "And perhaps it is a simple reason, but due to that I became interested in you.  I meant what I told you, yesterday.  I truly wish to seek a friendship with you."

After gaining Cornelius's acceptance, the two men began to walk together down the street.  "I don't have many friends," Cornelius said, suddenly.  "I am not entirely confident in what it entails.  My other friend, we are close enough to talk about silly things, but we don't share deep confidences.  So I apologise if I speak out of turn or say the wrong thing at times.  I am not so good with words."

"You need not worry," Matthew told him.  "I sought you out for the person you are, not to have you flatter or appease me."  That can wait.  "You may say whatever you wish with me, I shall not mind it."  Unless you reject me.

Cornelius smiled, his face lighting up like the sun to the dawn sky.  "Thank you," he said.  "I often feel that I can't speak so openly with George.  He is like you, a younger son of a noble family.  I'm sure their expectations of him are much similar to those your family have of you."

"Please don't talk about your relations with other men when you are with me," Matthew said, flatly.  He already envied this unknown man for sharing time with Cornelius that he could not have.

The other man misunderstood him.  "Oh, I am sorry.  I am not comparing you.  The friendship I have with George, while nice, is a hollow thing.  I really don't know him well for all we have spoken these past few years.  But you have not purposely hidden anything from me since we met not that long ago and I am the same with you.  It is nice."  A gentle blush coloured his cheeks.  Matthew was still unhappy about the other man, but instantly forgave Cornelius upon one look.  Instead he allowed their conversation to move on to other things.

"I am curious to know why you and your siblings remain unwed, though all three of you are in your twenties," Matthew said, lightly.  "Though I can kind of glean reason for your sister.  I am fortunate that I am the third born son and lack filial responsibility.  I know that were I my eldest brother, I would not have weaselled out of marriage for so long."

Cornelius chuckled, but felt light of heart as if the words pleased him, though he could not offer explanation to why he felt so.  "My sister has had many suitors since she turned sixteen as she is quite beautiful.  If it is not her sharp tongue that sees them flee, it is her ambitious standards.  I am sure she laments that she was not born of the main house, for her concerns would be for nought should it have been so.  My brother believes remaining unmarried is a kindness to me, though being my father's heir, he naturally has suitors hoping he will change his mind and not wait for me to find a wife.  There were mothers interested in me for their daughters some years ago, but my father worried that I would be overwhelmed by a stronger personality and later, he made brother heir, so the offers no longer came."

"I am glad," Matthew said, aloud.  Cornelius glanced at him in question, but Matthew did not elaborate and Cornelius decided not to ask.  They stopped outside a store that Cornelius recalled sold crafted goods by apprentices.  He had even sold a piece there, one he had managed to save from his father's wrath when he had discovered that he had snuck out an found himself another Master, this time to learn enamelling.

"Ah, it has been a while since I last visited this shop," Cornelius mentioned.

Matthew easily recognised it.  "I was here just a week or so past," he mused.  "I purchased a music box for my nephew.  It was charming, a giant pearl captured by cresting ocean waves and the intertwining melodies were quite enchanting."  Cornelius's eyes widened as he described the piece.  How could he forget the first piece of work he had created successfully from scratch.  It was like a child he'd had to part with.  If he were not attempting to appease his father, he never would have sold it.  That was in the past of course.  He no longer tried to become a craftsman and was useful to his father, so the man allowed him his hobby, as long as Cornelius continued to abide by his rules.  His eyes blurred slightly in memory.  "What's wrong?"

"You really purchased it?"  Cornelius asked softly.

Matthew nodded with a slight frown before a sudden realisation came to him as well as the full name behind those initials.  "You made it?!  Cornelius, my nephew and I, we could not help but fall in love with it.  It is exquisite."  Smiles and tears dominated the other man's face and a sob of happiness escaped from his throat as he wept in both joy that his work was appreciated and sorrow for a life he couldn't lead.  He didn't notice the moment that Matthew wrapped him in a comforting embrace, but he did not step out of those arms when he did.

Matthew was satisfied.  He knew how he could convince Cornelius to move with him to the city.  He just required a little more time.