June 22nd, 1894 — Fairtree Farm

The tours had occupied her for much of the day, followed by watching the lumberjack competition — (Izzy was, Enid thought, half in love with several of the competitors) — and now her brothers were prepping the bonfire or running tug of war, respectively. Enid had apparated into the rows of newly planted trees, tasked with straightening out the row of saplings that had been poorly planted by their guests.

Lucky for her, the guests had restricted themselves to one row, and she was well-acquainted with the magic they used to keep the trees well-secure at this point in her life. She waved her wand and muttered a spell in front of one sapling, watching it adjust in the dirt to stand up straight and true. One down — many to go. She was going to be exhausted this weekend; she kept having to pause to fix her braid, and she was sure that flyaway hairs were popping out of it. There was mud on her boots and dirt on her hands.

Enid had made it further down the row when she heard someone step behind her. She expected a sibling, and looked over her shoulder to chide them for rushing her — and then flushed pink.

"Mr. Yarwood!" Enid said, taking a step back from her current sapling. Her heart beat faster; how had he gotten more handsome on his journey? She wanted to spend some time chatting with him, but with the bonfire close to starting she knew she really ought to finish her task with the trees. "You'll want to be by the bonfire — it's near the farmhouse."

  

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set by Bee

Nigel had, in the last ten days or so, read the letters he'd received a dozen or times over. The handwriting was so familiar, but the cadence to the words was entirely unlike the letters that had been sent to him by Enid in the past. Upon reading the first one, he supposed it had simply gotten lost in the post, but the more he read, the less he was sure he was meant to be reading them. By the time he had read through them completely, he knew that these were not meant to be actually sent to him and now he was stuck on what to do about it.

He was a mess of uncertainty, disbelief and hesitation. Did he speak to Enid about this? Would that be too embarrassing for her? He didn't know how to feel about her confession, mostly because he never thought anybody would ever think of him like that. He was quiet and awkward and he wasn't very good at talking to people, which was why he worked in research; the books and dragons didn't care much if he didn't have a witty response. Still, he had always enjoyed her company, enjoyed speaking with her, and felt at ease in her presence, which was more than he could say for most people. The letters she had sent were something he had grown to look forward to and he had missed her company, but what did that mean really? They were friends after all, which was why he'd sent her the book, right?

Honestly, considering he was not very brave socially either, he thought he might just let it go, but the more he thought about it, the more insane it was driving him. Even after a long two days of travel home, to arrive at the manor late last night, he hadn't been able to push the dilemma from his mind. Nigel worried today wasn't the best time to approach her, but he knew if he waited he would lose his nerve. It had taken him longer than he would have like to find her, alone for the moment, but as he approached, his long hair, desperately in need of a cut, was pushed back out of his face with a rough hand run through it. He was more tan than usual, after spending a great deal of time outside, he had callouses on his hands from the work he'd been doing. She looked different, older, somehow, but still the same Enid he had left here in the Glen a few months ago.

"I wanted to see you," he managed, unsure of how the hell to begin this conversation, oblivious to how that simple, true statement, could be taken.

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Enid tucked her wand into the pocket of her jacket without even thinking about it. Task with the trees be damned, Nigel Yarwood wanted to see her — a statement she had never expected to hear coming out of his mouth. It was a good thing that her cheeks were already pinked from spending the day outside in the sun, or she would have been flushing pink.

''Oh?'' Enid said simply, reminding herself not to get too excited.

  

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set by Bee

Nigel felt so far out of his depth right now that he was second-guessing even saying anything. He had enjoyed their correspondence very much; he wouldn't have gone out of his way to procure the book for her if he didn't consider her a dear friend, but these new letters threw everything out of whack and he didn't know what to do about it. Would this be too much, addressing her like this? Their friendship was something he valued and he didn't want to ruin it; but he couldn't get those new letters out of his head now.

He cautiously stepped forward, giving a proper amount of space while his mind whirred around how badly this could possibly go. Would she be mad he had read them? Did she mean to send them? He didn't think so, which then made him feel guilty for doing so and this downward spiral was going to get him nowhere until he got it off his chest. "I ah, have something I think belongs to you?" He pulled the carefully folded stack of letters from the inside of his traveling jacket.

The information that she cared for him as more than a friend still sat in the middle of his ribs, stuck there until he she gave him more to go on. Did he like Enid? Of course. Did he like her more than most people? Also yes. Did that mean something though? He had no idea and it was killing him. This wasn't something he could research the answer to and he didn't know what to do with information like that.

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If he'd come out to the trees to give her a gift, then she was going to be even more in love with him than before. It wasn't another book, though — it was a stack of letters. A look of confusion flashed over her face, and Enid took one out of the stack and unfolded it carefully — only to blanche white when she saw her on words looking back at her.

She looked up at him, then down at the letters. She'd been looking for her journal a few days ago, but she'd never thought — Enid re-folded the letters and took one out, opening it again. No. He'd obviously read them — the paper was well worn.

She wanted to come up with something good to say, something to get her out of this, but she couldn't — she whimpered.

  

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set by Bee

Her reaction solidified his assumption that she had not been the one to send these, so whoever Miss Lola Sterling was, had sent them on her behalf. For what purpose, Nigel still wasn't sure, but clearly Enid hadn't wanted him to see them. The problem was, he couldn't unsee them now and they had this hanging between them. Their friendship hung in the balance and Nigel had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

He was well aware that he admired her determination, her loyalty and her kindness; could clearly see that she was beautiful inside and out, but he had never thought of her as anything more than a friend. That she harbored romantic feelings for him left him a little blindsided. They had been friendly for so long that he assumed that was all it was, and would ever be. Could they be more? He didn't know. There were some realistic barriers; age, class, his family. How was he supposed to know how to navigate this?

"Enid, I—" he stepped closer, hating to see her distressed, but unsure of how to fix it. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her, to put things to rights, but it wasn't obvious how; he couldn't research the answer here. There was also the underlying spark of what if? Now that he knew how she felt, could he too feel the same way? He'd never thought about it, but it didn't seem impossible or even improbable. He looked at her helplessly, afraid to say the wrong thing.

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The following 1 user Likes Nigel Yarwood's post:1 user Likes Nigel Yarwood's post
   Enid Glynn

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Enid didn't know what to say, and her hands crumpled into fists — squishing the letters where she held him. She had not been able to process this enough to start having thoughts about which of her siblings had done this to her, or if there was some other way that Nigel had gotten her letters — all she knew was that she had never intended him to see her words. She had thought about confessing to him, but she had never actually wanted to.

"I'm sorry," she managed, quiet.

  

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set by Bee

Just as clueless as he'd been the first time he'd read the letters, Nigel wavered on what he could possible do here. He watched her, obviously frustrated, justifiably so, but he felt something shoot through him when she apologized.

"Please don't be sorry," he managed, a little breathless, trying to turn this whole thing over in his head. "There's nothing to be sorry for." Those were her feelings, she was entitled to them, and he wanted to preserve them to the best of his ability, though he didn't know how. Judging by her reaction, it wasn't her that sent them, so somebody else must have done so. That person ought to be sorry, for sharing something that Enid hadn't meant to share.

"I don't know what to do now." That was the crutch of it and he wanted to be honest about it. These were uncharted waters that he had absolutely no knowledge of how to navigate them. He valued her friendship and he would hate to lose it, but things were changed, whether they wanted them to or not.

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She had everything to be sorry for. She had never wanted to tell anyone, because she had known that someone ought to have talked her out of this romantic interest a long time ago — because Nigel Yarwood was never going to return her feelings, and when he realized that, he was going to stop trying to reassure her. Enid was sure of it.

"I've never known what to do about it," she admitted, voice still off-pitch.

  

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set by Bee

The helpless feeling was a little overwhelming. He truly did not know what to do. Honestly he didn't even know what she saw in him. Nigel did not exhibit any level of confidence, he was awkwardly tall, too quiet. In the letters she had seemed exited that he'd written to her, and sent her the book, but he did not find that too far out of the ordinary? I lived in books, after all.

He took a hesitant step forward. "What can I do?" He needed some sort of direction here. He didn't want to lose her as a friend, he had so few and hers was one he cherished, but he wasn't sure if they could go back to the way things were.

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Enid bit her lip and worked it beneath her teeth, as if she were still a nervous Hogwarts student. "Pretend you don't know?" she asked, feeling absolutely pathetic.

  

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set by Bee

Nigel knew, in his head, there was no going back on this knowledge. It would always be there, in the back of his mind and he would be constantly second guessing himself and what he was doing. Which for someone as oblivious as he could be socially, was a bit of a nightmare.

Still, he didn't want to lose her as a friend, and he didn't know if there could be something more here, but he had to ask, just to be sure, "Is that really what you want?"

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He knew what she wanted; he had read all the letters. Enid shrugged her shoulders, because she was worried that if she said as much she would sound petulant, and she already looked silly.

  

She wasn't very convincing, but he struggled over what exactly he could do to make this right. Did he want to offer himself up to be obliviated? That seemed like a stretch too far and then she would still know, obviously, but it would again be just her secret.

"I don't want to lose you," he intoned seriously, taking another half step forward, slowly closing the gap between them. Nigel didn't know what he wanted out of this, but he meant that much. She was his dear friend and he didn't have many of those at all. It would be a terrible loss if they couldn't get through this.

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Enid bit her lip again. He was so close that it felt almost suffocating — she had an impulse to run through the orchard, but she felt stuck in place. And where would she go? The Glen was small, her family was throwing a celebration, and whether she left or not he was still going to know how she felt.

"It's alright," she said quietly, "If you don't — have any feelings for me."

She didn't know if it was alright, if it would ever be alright if he knew that she loved him and did not feel similarly, but she knew very well that she could not control his feelings.

  

"I don't know how I feel," that was the truth of it, too. Nigel had tried to parse through his feelings on the matter since reading the letters, but he was so far out of his depth here that he didn't know where he stood. He enjoyed their friendship, they'd sort of grown up together; but they were from complete different stations in life and he was in no place at his age and position, to be harboring any delusions of grandeur about marrying and settling down. Not to mention how poorly it would wind up reflecting on her, in the long run. He didn't want that to happen to her.

He sighed softly, feeling the frustration with himself welling up. "I think maybe I need a little time?" Was that fair? She had every right to tell him no, to bugger off and be done with him and he would have to accept that. "I care about you, obviously I do, but there's a lot of outside factors that neither you nor I could hope to control." His parents for one. Society's views. Their ages. It was all a bit of a mess.

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