Work Text:
Phillip Crane disliked London. It was crowded, there were too few green spaces, and the noise never seemed to cease. Nothing short of necessity would bring him there — a meeting with his solicitor, perhaps, or some matter of business too important to avoid. Around him Bloomsbury still smelled of fresh mortar in places, with entire terraces rising from muddy streets behind neat painted hoardings.
This part of Bloomsbury was trying to decide what it was going to be.
And now he was considering purchasing a house rather than merely renting one.
“Phillip, this one even has a private garden,” said Eloise, nudging him with her elbow. “And a conservatory besides. Imagine it — you may hide yourself amongst your plants while the rest of London carries on around you.”
She nodded her head trying to get him to nod along with her. She even put his hand on her pregnant abdomen as if convincing him the baby wanted it too.
“It would please me so much if you just looked,” she said, giving him her best and brightest smile.
“Oh alright,” he said with a sigh. It didn’t take much for him to say yes to her all she had to do was smile and he’d go weak in the knees. She threaded her arm through his and started for the front door leading the way.
He had to admit, he was curious about the structure. They could see sunlight reflecting off the greenhouse at the rear of the house, making it gleam strangely amongst the brick and stone. The conservatory looked almost delicate attached to the solid townhouse, as though it belonged to some country estate rather than the middle of London.
His solicitor and friend, James Dashwood, stood waving the key in his hand.
“Welcome back to London,” said James shaking his hand as Eloise looked smug next to him. “I heard you’re looking to purchase this time?”
“So we can be close to my family,” said Eloise promptly, standing up straight. “Also so Phillip could be in town whenever he has business with other botanists.”
Yes, because his profession did require a lot of traveling, he thought dryly. A botanist traveled everywhere with his plants. Although, he supposed having the property would be useful. The British Museum was nearby along with many publishing houses when Eloise was done writing her book.
“Well it’ll be nice to see you more Phillip,” said James as he gestured to the doors. “Shall we?”
Together they followed in as Eloise gripped his arm when she saw the empty shelf space.
“The house has a library,” said James with the air of a man delivering a well-rehearsed speech. “Separate studies for each of you, and enough rooms for your children as they grow older. All within easy walking distance of the British Museum.” He paused for dramatic effect. “And close to Mayfair but not too close where your mama could visit everyday.”
“It’s perfect,” whispered Eloise, mostly to herself.
Phillip nudged her gently. “I thought you preferred being far enough from your mama,” he teased, lightly bumping her shoulder.
“And now that I shall be a mama myself, I understand the importance of being near her,” she replied, a little more firmly, tightening her grip on his arm. It was one of the principal reasons she wanted the house — to be close to her mother and sisters when the child came. The winter roads to Romney Hall would be far less forgiving when the time arrived.
“This is just right,” she added, more brightly as they followed James into a sunlit dining room. “Perhaps you might show us the greenhouse at the back? I think that will be the most appealing part of the house.”
James turned at once, leading them toward the rear of the property.
The sound of their footsteps rang softly over the polished new floorboards as they followed him. Phillip found his attention sharpening as more details came into focus: floral wallpaper, pale pea-green walls, and a notable absence of heavy paneling.
He actually gave a small, uncharacteristic bounce of anticipation as they reached an intricately carved door inset with glass.
Then Phillip Crane gasped a little as he stared in wonder at the delicate structure. The glass panes sparkled in the mid afternoon sun. Sunlight filtered in giving the room a soft glow despite being empty. The entire room was warm as if giving him a soft welcoming hug.
It was smaller than his country greenhouse, but carefully built. He crossed at once to inspect the ironwork, his eyes moving over joints and supports. Whoever had constructed it understood what they were doing. The frame was properly balanced and the weight carried cleanly through the structure.
Beyond the glass lay a modest garden already taking shape. He thought he saw herbaceous plantings just beginning to establish themselves among the shrubbery.
“They have done well,” he admitted, glancing back at Eloise.
“High praise from you,” she teased. “Think of your experiment table here.” She gestured lightly. “The plants there, a table here. We could even dine as a family in the open air.”
She nodded as though the matter were already settled, while Phillip tried—without much resistance—to picture it.
It was not Romney Hall, but the idea did not entirely fail him. A table beneath glass. Quiet mornings.
James, beside them, added quickly that specimens and notes could easily be duplicated and sent between houses, so he would never be without his work.
As he looked around, he began to shape a future here. Their child moving through the garden, small hands gathering flowers, laughter echoing beneath the glass. Amanda and Oliver listening to his botany lessons with interest.
“And your work is important with Cambridge,” Eloise said sharply, breaking the thought. “Everything comes through London in any case—your papers, your publications. Were you listening?”
“Mm,” he replied absently.
“Phillip.”
“Could I see the garden outside?” he asked instead.
Eloise fell quiet at once, taking it as encouragement. James exhaled under his breath in relief. They hadn’t lost him completely to his thoughts.
They led him through a door into the garden beyond. He had been right about the planting—young herbaceous borders already edging the paths. They weren’t impressive yet.
“James, could you leave us a moment?” Eloise asked.
The tall man nodded and stepped away, mentioning lightly that he would look over the house for a room that might be converted into a nearby study.
Eloise turned back to Phillip at once, her blue eyes narrowed in thought, though her expression remained soft. She brushed a strand of hair from her face, then settled one hand over her growing belly while the other reached for him.
“Phillip, it’s perfect,” she said, biting her bottom lip. “I know you do not like the city, and it took a great deal of convincing to bring you here. I think we could be happy here part of the year. I would not take you from Romney Hall; I know how important it is to you.”
Phillip’s gaze drifted to the herbaceous borders, and he stilled. Eloise was rarely vulnerable and when she spoke like this, he knew it was meaningful. So he stayed quiet as she rambled on, her thoughts half formed and mind working quicker than her mouth.
“It’s scary, moving and starting somewhere new. We’ve both felt it before. I’d feel closer to home and I want to make this new place ours. Think of what we could make here. I-”
Phillip gripped her hand and pulled in her close to him, causing her to catch her breath.
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her mouth drowning any more words from her lips. He gripped her waist tighter despite her growing belly. Her hair tickled his face as he wanted to take those pins out and run his hands through her hair. He ran his tongue along her lips parting for him to enter. Her grip on his shoulders tightened before they seemed to catch themselves and parted. His forehead rested against hers as their breath evened.
“Eloise, you don’t have to convince me,” he said, kissing her forehead softly. “I may not like London society, but there is nothing I want more than to see you happy.”
She blinked and a smile crossed her face.
“I want to make sure you’re happy too,” she said with a small voice.
“I think we will both be happy here. All I need is a garden and you,” he said, pulling her into a hug as best he could. “And this little one, and Oliver and Amanda. I think they would riot if we forgot about them.”
Eloise snorted a little at that when she laughed resting her head on his shoulder, turning to look at the garden and the greenhouse.
“And we won’t,” she said simply and gestured up to a window that would have a view of the garden. “That being said, I’m going to enjoy watching you work from that room. It better be our bedroom.”
They shared a laugh before walking back inside hand in hand.