There was a commotion coming from the window, which was odd Miranda though, considering they were on the third floor of their London townhouse.
Frowning the editor made her excuses to her guest, who all watched the very same window the bewilderment. Raising to her feet, she tentatively stepped towards it, when the thing shot open. The sound of grunts filled the air along with enough curses that would make a sailor blush.
Eyes widening and mouth hanging slightly ajar, the editor watched as a lone figure struggled to crawl through the headfirst. She would’ve already called their guards, if not for the familiar brunette locks flopping about as one Andrea Sachs threw herself to the window, slamming onto the ground on her back with a ‘oof,’ and a ‘fuck.’
Unaware of being watched, the brunette punched the air with a ‘yes!’ feeling quiet proud of her little feat, before moving to tug at her boots. One after the other, they watched her unlace, and then pull them off before throwing it haphazardly across the room. When she moved to her buckle, Miranda had seen enough.
“What on earth are you doing?!” She shouted incredulously, causing the brunette to jump.
“Wha-Mira you’re home!” Her wife of two years scrambled to her feet with glee, before frowning, “and you have guests.” She reddened when Emily and Nigel tried coughing to cover their laughter.
“Yes and I arrived just in time to see my wife doing the most ridi-what if you had killed yourself!”
Andy’s answer was branding one of those dopey, easy grins she always got when Miranda referred to her as her ‘wife.’
“Well, wife,” the guest forgotten as she arched her brow and shot the editor a daring smirk, “don’t you look ravishing tonight…” she moved with a speed that took Miranda by surprise and before she knew it, Andy’s arms were around her as the Brit trailed her lips down the column of Miranda’s neck.
“Andy,” She whispered breathlessly before tugging at the girl’s hair, forcing her to meet her eyes. “Did you honestly think scaling the wall and tumbling through the window was a good idea?” She needed answers. “Why the hell didn’t you use the front door?”
Andy moved closer, her breath mingling with Miranda’s before she spoke. “Couldna find it.” Her accent was deeper than usual, taking on a Scottish lilt much like her mother.
With a frown, the editor pulled back, dodging the kiss she knew was coming. “I’m sorry, what?”
Sighing in frustration, the Aristocrat looked at her wife as if she had taken her favorite toy, “We couldna find the door.”
“Are, are you drunk?”
Andy watched her curiously, a light sway to her as she moved. “Drink had been taken yes, but that had nothing to do with my brilliant plan!”
“Through the window.”
“Couldna find the front door, yes.” Andy finished, quiet pleased with herself.
“You do realize, that it’s downstairs…directly under this window, right?
Andy gasped, in genuine and utter shock before looking at Miranda reverently. “You found it?” Her voice breathless/
“Oh for god’s sa-”
“You’re so smart,” She pressed a kiss to Miranda’s cheek, “my wife’s so smart. I gotta tell R’ena and Cristi before they come up.”
“Before they what?!” Emily and Nigel shouted in unison as they shot to their feet and raced to the window, shouting at their other halves not to dare.
“My, my Lady Andrea Sachs, still trouble I see.”
Andy froze at the familiar voice before looking over Miranda’s shoulders properly for the first time since she entered the room. When her vision finally focus, a grin stole across her face.
“Lady Danbury, you’re looking absolutely stunning this evening I dare say.” Andy quickly reached for the woman’s hand before pressing a kiss to the back of it, her thick lashes sweeping her cheeks as she bowed with a flourish and grace that rivaled the heroes of Jane Austen.
She always turned into a flirtish rake when intoxicated; fortunately, it was all in good fun and never crossed any lines.
“Tell me My Lady, have you met my wife?”
Miranda looked at the woman with exasperation.
“Considering I am her guest dearest, one would think introduction the first step.”
“She is brilliant no?” Andy leaned closer to whisper conspiringly, “she found the front door.”
“Did she now?’ The older woman indulged, a smile tugging at her lips.
“Of course, and she’s really, really pretty.” She was unable to keep the pride from her voice.
This time, her words earned herself a full laugh from the normally stoic woman who had decided to that befriending the newest addition to the peerage was paramount.
“If only I had a partner who thought I was brilliant and really, really pretty.”
Andy took a seat around the table where Miranda and her guests had been engaged in a spirited game of poker. “You could have,” She smirked at the woman, “If you had only accepted my proposal.”
Miranda nostrils flared and her eyes widened in disbelief at the words spewing from her wife’s mouth.
Lady Danbury snorted. “I was on my third husband at the time…and you were eleven.”
Shooting Miranda a playful wink that placated her, Andy turned to the other woman with pout as she clutched at her chest. “After you bewitched me with your sharp tongue and beauty, you left me to pine away, wallowing in my sorrows, knowing that idiot did not deserved your affections.”
“Is that why you did what you did?” Danbury laughed with a tinge of incredulity. When the others eyed her questioningly, she continued. “We were at the Queen’s private garden party, when the future heir of Westminster here,” She gestured to Andy, “climbed unto a bench, took off her glove and smacked my then husband across the face before demanding ‘pistols at dawn’ at the top of her lungs. Her father was mortified and Ainsley could barely stop laughing, the Queen was most amused too.”
With every word, the smugness on Andy’s face grew. “Coward didn’t even show.”
“And you did?” Danbury turned to look at the girl.
“Of course, it was for your hand, I took it very seriously.”
“You were eleven!”
“I can’t even…you know what, that sounds exactly like something you would do now. It’s not hard to believe baby you would do the same.” Miranda rolled her eyes, before shooting her wife something tethering between exasperation and fondness.
“Hey! I was very tall for my age.” She shouted affronted at the word ‘baby.’
“You were a wee thing.”
“I-” She hiccupped. “Was normal size.”
“Didn’t you just say you were tall for your age?” Miranda asked dryly.
“Just for that, I only think you’re really pretty, instead of really, really pretty now.”
“Somehow, I think I’ll live.” She blew her wife a kiss, who stuck her tongue out her in return.
Danbury watched the easy smiles between the two. The way their eyes glowed when they looked at each other, and it wasn’t just from the alcohol the brunette had clearly consumed. It was a yearning and deep connection that lingered between the two. It was as if they had each other but still couldn’t get enough, even now she watched their fingers graze each other, seeking out the comfort of the other’s touch. Andy would grin, flirt and look at her wife as if she were everything; and Miranda would return it with no less fervor.
She was evidently trying to seduce the white haired woman with horrible pickup lines, but with her deepening accent, mischievous eyes and easy charm, one would be hard-pressed to deny her, and she could clearly see Miranda losing the battle, no matter how much she tried appearing unaffected, which only spurred the brunette on further.
The two were utterly and completely smitten and the devotion to each other they clearly had would make one’s heartache in gentle envy. Danbury found herself smiling at the two, deciding that she would make it a must to visit them whenever they were in London, or if their travels aligned. She even found herself laughing when the other two troublemakers who were never far apart from each other crashed into the room, stumbling over each other.
“Mir’da found fron doo!” Cristi shouted.
“She did!” Andy nodded earnestly, her eyes glazing with every second.
“It was always there!”