The Mystery Wife

"I, that did ever in abundance dwell,

For me to want, exceeds the throws of hell."

-Shakespeare and Middleton, A Yorkshire Tragedy

It was solidly an hour later when Draco showed up at Richard's house, bedraggled, hacked off and swearing. He'd had to untangle the puzzle of Cleckheaton's streets by running up and down what had to have been down most of them. Brooklyn Road was, unfortunately, rather easily confused with Brooklyn Court, Brooklyn Drive and the other sodding Brooklyn Road, all of which were nestled within a few blocks of one another.

Bloody fucking Cleckheaton.

Richard frowned as he opened the door. "I'm not capt ta see thee here, tha' ninny," he said, moving aside to let Draco come in.

"I'm not any more capt to be me, so we're even," Draco replied sourly. "If that means what I think it means. Is she here? I need a good kicking."

Richard frowned as he parsed that. "'Capt' means 'surprised,' tha' young nimrod," he explained, his thin lips quirking. "I'm not surprised ta see thee. Herself is already gone off with blood in 'er een. But plant thissen awhile, for I would blether wi' thee. Tha shalt not follow 'er an' I dinna think thee fettle for 'er, married or no."

"Ah," Draco said, even more sourly, but obediently came inside. "It was the 'ninny' that threw me off. Well, go ahead, interrogate me. Merlin knows somebody in her family should. Beforehand would have been favourite."

"Aye," Richard nodded laconically. "It were a done deal by the time I cottoned on. I thought the two of you would get there on yourownselves, without the mellin' on o' thy kinfolk." He steered Draco to a chair, sat him down, and disappeared into the tiny kitchen.

Draco bounced back out of the chair and paced. Another thing he seemed to have picked up from Sev, but he couldn't stay still. He wanted to be chasing after her. She'd probably hex his head off, but that was fine. Better to get it over with.

Richard reemerged a few seconds later with two glasses full of scotch, and he handed Draco one and sat on the worn sofa.

"Why art tha' followin' 'er, lad?" he asked.

Draco stared at him. Every word had been comprehensible, for a change, and yet he'd swear that, strung together, they made no sense whatsoever.

"What do you mean, 'why'?" he asked blankly. "I hurt her feelings. And it was a stupid bloody mistake, too, because I didn't mean it like that, but that doesn't matter. I have to apologise, and hope she decides to forgive me after she gets tired of kicking me."

Richard considered him shrewdly. "Dost tha' want ta be married to 'er?"

Draco felt his face going red. "Maybe. It depends," he muttered, and downed the scotch rather desperately.

His new brother-in-law buried a smile in a more leisurely sip of his own. "On?"

Trapped, Draco glared at him. "On whether or not she wants to be married to ME, tha' ninny!"

Richard roared with laughter, which of course did nothing to improve Draco's mood.

"Is that the way of it?" he grinned. "Whisht, lad, mayhap thy kinfolk did right by thee after all. I'd say she weren't entirely displeased ta find 'erself netted by thee. But she maun put up a noble threapin' an' say thee nay, an' she will think she does this for thy sake. Tha maun persuade 'er tha wants 'er truly, an, lad, she be fair whemmled ower by thy twang 'afore. Tha wilt 'ave ta tew for 'er, ta work hard an' fullock ta snickle 'er. Canst tha do so, canst tha fight for 'er as she deserves, or is it too much for a young maumet?"

Draco blinked at him, utterly perplexed. "I have no idea what half of that meant, Richard. If you're talking about courting her, though, I was working on it. But now I haven't netted her, my parents have."

"Thy parents ain't married to 'er, tha'rt. So," Richard frowned. "Tis thou wilt 'ave to win 'er. Thou wilt 'ave to fight for 'er. Dost understand that much? Dost understand that tha'st hurt 'er worse than thy parents ever could? An' that I should be beatin' thee daft, but that I think ye could make each other 'appy?"

"Yeah, I know," Draco moaned, dropping his head onto the back of the chair. "I'm an idiot. I didn't mean it like that. Nothing else was getting through to my daft parents, so I figured I'd try sarcasm, and it went all wrong."

"It usually does," Richard said dryly. "So. If she'll have thee, tha wants 'er, marriage, lifelong an all of it? Be verra sure afore tha goest after 'er, why it is tha goest, and what it is tha wants."

Draco lifted his head and gave him an extremely wry look. "I've been crushing on him since I was eleven. All his switching genders did was make it worse. I'm pretty damned sure it's not going to go away."

Richard blinked, and then his eyes crinkled in rather unexpected mirth. "Whisht, then. Two of those bent fellows, is it, now? But neither entirely, as you both fancy women as well. 'Tis well, then. Ye'll suit."

"Being halfway bent," Draco drawled, his mouth quirking, "is the least of my problems. And Sev did seem to have a certain sympathy for that position, yeah. Good, you didn't go spare... She didn't tell you where she was going, did she?"

"Back ta that school o' yers," Richard said, polishing off the dregs of his drink with a neat flick of the wrist. "Go on, then. She'd not 'ave told me where she was goin' next, an' she dinna secretly want thee ta follow. The way of a woman, lad. Tha'lt learn, right enough."

"I bloody well hope so, because I've been crap at it so far... I'm planning to go belly up, and apologise profusely while she kicks me," Draco said ruefully. "Am I on the right track, at least?"

"Aye...an' nay. Tha'rt young, an' tha maun win 'er respect as well as 'er liking. Say straight up that tha'st spoken badly, an' apologize, an' be that the end on it. Tell 'er what tha wants, straight up an' honest. An' if she continues ta fratch wi' thee after that, snog 'er senseless."

"She'll hex me," Draco pointed out. "I mean, not that I wasn't thinking of doing it, but she will. I'm in a really weird spot, you know. I never know if I'm dealing with Sevanna, who might let me snog her, or Professor Snape, who would have taken my head off and put me in permanent detention for even looking at him like I wanted to."

Richard snorted softly. "Welcome ta the plight o' men everywhere. Just remember what I told thee: dinna let 'er walk all o'er thee. When tha'rt in the wrong, as tha'rt now, apologize, but say it like a man. 'Tis more to have 'er respect than e'en 'er love."

"I'm already in the hole, there, I'm afraid," Draco told him, looking down into his empty glass and wishing badly that it were full. "I haven't done much that's worthy of respect. I think that's part of why this idiot stunt of my parents' is so humiliating. They seem to think that rich and pretty is all you need, to be worth marrying. I don't think rich and pretty cuts much ice with Sev. I was working on being something more, on impressing her. I needed more time. They didn't give it to me."

"Nay," Richard agreed with a laconic shrug. "An' now, it is what it is, an' tha maun make the most of it. She loves thee, an' she wants thee. Tha maun start there."

"How can you love and want somebody you don't like or respect?" Draco drawled, his face burning. He really, really would have wished he were drunk for this conversation, if it weren't for how badly the last time he'd been drunk had gone. "Sounds a bit like having a pet. I will not be a bloody pet."

"An' 'oo 'as said she doesna like or respect thee, lad?" Richard asked gently. He rose and headed to the kitchen, mercifully bringing back the scotch and pouring a generous dram for each of them. "Just now, 'tis she who feels the pet. She were sold ta thee, lad. Like chattel. An' thy parents bought 'er for thee, an' there's our greedy fool of an uncle, standin' in for 'er at the ceremony an' takin' 'is thirty pieces o' silver. An' then there's thee, miserable at suddenly findin' thissen married. Tha wilt 'ave a job convincin' 'er tha wants 'er, after all this. An that's why I ask thee ta be sure o' what tha wants, 'afore tha goest chargin' in after 'er. An tha dinna want 'er, 'twould be cruel not to let 'er go."

"Are you barmy?" Draco said indignantly. "I hexed Octavius for selling her, and left my parents alone-- oh, damn, you were both gone by then. Well, he's a bloody mess. My father's still removing the tentacles from his face."

Richard frowned, not quite getting all of that, but obviously getting the gist of it. "Lap up, lad," he said, gesturing at Draco's scotch. "Tha'lt need it. An then go find me sister. Remember what I said. Apologize first, make sure she believes thee, tell 'er you want ta try an make the marriage work. An if she still fratches wi' thee?"

"Snog her silly," Draco smirked, downing his scotch obediently.

"E'en so," Richard nodded proudly, his eyes twinkling.