The sheet of paper with Maxim’s fate written on it was burning a hole in his coat pocket. He’d read it twice and heard the decision said to his face that afternoon, and he still wasn’t entirely certain he believed it. His hand twitched towards his pocket and he had to pull it back towards his side, physically resisting the impulse to check again and make sure he wasn’t imagining what had happened.
The alehouse where Linden kept bar was starting to get crowded as the day was ending, people filling the room to drink and eat, but Linden wasn’t behind the bar herself, which was odd considering it was the time she earned most of her coin at this job. Maxim’s mouth twitched in a small frown; he’d been hoping to tell her the good news before he returned to Gregory and whatever crowing delight was awaiting him.
He was turning to leave when the girl behind the bar caught his eye and waved him over. He walked up to the bar and gave her an expectant look.
“You’re Lindy’s friend, right?” she said as she pulled a beer for an impatient man, and she didn’t bother waiting for his confirmation. “He swapped with me tonight, but he’s not left if you’re looking for him.”
“My thanks,” said Maxim, nodding at her and making his way to the door that would lead him to the rooms upstairs where Linden stayed.
The door was propped open and Linden was standing in the middle of the room, everything around her in disarray. Her hair was wrapped in a disarray at the top of her head, out of the way, and her hands were on her hips, just wearing her unbuttoned shirt and trousers as she examined the bags in front of her with a consternated expression. She looked up at Maxim’s approach and nodded at him with a distracted smile. “Evening.”
“Good evening,” said Maxim, thoroughly distracted from his own news by the mess in the room that only yesterday had been—well, not the most tidy of lodgings, but certainly nothing like this. “Can I ask what you’re doing?”
“Making a decision,” said Linden, frustratingly opaque. She chewed on her lip as she examined the open tin of paint pigments in front of her. “How did your afternoon go?”
“Very well, for me,” said Maxim, reaching into his coat and pulling out the sheet of paper that was the record of the day. He handed it to Linden who took it with one hand, turning away from the paints. “Reinstated to my rank with no docking of my payment, though my postings are to be confined to home shores and busy work for the next year at least.”
Linden smiled as she read, her cheeks dimpling delightfully, and she looked up at him. “Good,” she said brightly, handing the paper back. “Back on track, then?”
“Yes,” said Maxim slowly, tucking the paper away again. “Your father was not best pleased, I thought to give you a warning of his mood—”
“Thank you,” said Linden, her smile softening a little. “It may be for naught, though.”
“Already had a run in?” hazarded Maxim, gesturing to the bags in front of her.
She laughed, glancing down. “No. I ran into a friend earlier today and she offered to put me up in her home for a while. I’m considering taking her up on the offer.”
“A little more than considering, I’d say,” said Maxim, leaning on her doorframe.
“Yes, alright,” said Linden, wrinkling her nose at him and shoving one of the bags aside to sit on her bed, gripping the sheets either side of her. “I don’t want to live with my father, I don’t want to give up the life I’ve made. But I can’t live in my friend’s pockets forever and I don’t have enough coin to support myself if I were to try and start over elsewhere.”
Maxim picked his way through the mess and sat on the bed next to her, leaving an almost respectable half a foot of space between them. “So what’s your plan of attack?”
Linden shrugged. “I save up a bit and pose as my own brother, find a place to stay for my ‘sister’, and then attempt to support myself as a mad spinster who paints? Or realistically, I suppose I do a lot of mending for people and try not to get noticed.”
“You’re a capable woman, you could certainly manage it,” said Maxim, his hand twitching towards hers.
Linden glanced up, releasing her lip where she was chewing on it again. “Thank you.”
“But you’re unsure?”
“There’s a lot that could go wrong,” said Linden, her expression sober. “I’ve a habit of leaping before I look. It usually goes poorly for me.”
“What if you had help?” suggested Maxim.
“I told you, I can’t live in my friend’s pockets forever. Even if I were to do that she moves around a lot and I can’t do—”
“That’s not what I meant,” said Maxim, picking up her hand. “This may be presumptuous of me, but I think we can help each other.”
“Oh yes?” said Linden, squeezing his hand with a small smile. “How so?”
“You need security, for a while at least,” he said slowly. “And ideally to not attract notice as a woman on her own.”
“Well, yes,” said Linden, watching his face curiously. “Posing as my own sibling isn’t exactly ideal, but it is a good start for that.”
“And if you were to have someone to pose as say, a husband?”
Linden froze. “I don’t think I can ask that of you,” she said, amusement colouring her tone.
“Why not?” said Maxim, raising an eyebrow at her. “It would help both of us to appear somewhat respectable, it would give you a measure of security for a time, there are a thousand and one ways to exit a marriage, and if you don’t mind my saying it, I think we get along well enough to not want to kill each other when forced to live in close proximity.”
Linden’s mouth twitched, gripping his hand tightly. “And we know the sex is good,” she joked, but she sobered quickly. “Are you certain?”
“Yes,” said Maxim, turning his hand to lace their fingers together. “I enjoy your company, I’d like to see you find the life you want, and I think we can help each other.”
Linden watched their fingers twist together and smiled at him. “Well. When you put it like that.”
“Oh?” said Maxim, but before he could ask if that meant she was agreeing with him, she leant in and kissed him.
He reached up and cupped her cheek carefully, kissing her back. She was smiling again when they separated, and he rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “I don’t know if I have the qualities of an officer’s wife.”
“I’m told I don’t have the qualities of an officer,” said Maxim, smiling back at her. “But I’m sure you can whip me into shape.”
She laughed, kissing him lightly again before pushing herself up from the bed. “I do so love a challenge!” she said, propping her hands on her hips again and looking far more cheerful for the prospect. “Are you going to help me pack then, o alleged husband, or are you just going to sit there like a lump? I need to be gone tonight or my father’s going to come get me anyway and this whole discussion will have been for nothing.”
Maxim gave her a mock salute and stood up. “As my Lady commands. Where should we start?”
Rory Banks 