make sure to read thirteen before this!

SEVERAL MONTHS LATER
"What do you suppose, darling?" Elijah asked Florence as they stood with the decorator in the room that was set to be the baby's nursery in just a couple of months, "What colour would you like the walls to be?"

"Something neutral," Florence smiled, resting her hand on her bump, "A pale yellow would look lovely, given how much natural light this room gets."

"And for the furniture, do you have a preference on wood?" The decorator asked, a question she never imagined having to fathom, given that she spent the first three months of her life sleeping in a drawer lined with blankets.

"Something light also," Florence smiled as she approached the window, "It'll be winter by the time the baby is here, I don't want it to feel too dull in here."

"Very good, my lady," The decorator nodded, "I'll get back to my workshop and start working on the designs and I'll liaise with some good carpenters I know."

"That's great, thank you Mr Potts," Elijah nodded, "Please have one of the maids show you out."

"Good day to you both," Mr Potts smiled before leaving the room.

"I doubt I'll ever get used to this life," Florence sighed as she rested her hands on her hips, with little understanding of how the baby inside of her could possibly have another two months of growing to do, "It still feels odd that they call me Mrs Harrington."

"It'll be second nature in time," Elijah assured her, aware of how difficult she had found it to adjust to a life of being waited on by staff daily, "Besides, the fussing will only get worse when the baby arrives."

Despite her faith in Elijah, Florence had feared that he would wake up one morning, regretting his decision to marry her and father her child conceived out of wedlock. But that day was yet to come, and with every day that passed, Florence doubted whether it ever would.

Elijah was already playing the part of the doting father exceptionally well. He would be out at work most of the day, but when he returned he would join Florence for dinner prepared by the chef. Once they'd eaten they'd find themselves in the drawing room or the bedroom, where Elijah would talk away to Florence's bump, while the pair wondered whether the words could even be heard.

Despite their relationship being a societal facade the pair knew that the maids were likely to gossip, so they agreed to share a bed to prevent their relationship coming under public speculation. They had done a good job in the four months that followed their wedding, people who met the couple were keen to comment how in love they seemed and how much of a proud father Elijah would be.

"Do you think people believe us?" Florence asked, holding on to her baby bump.

"I don't think we'd still be living in this house if people doubted us," Elijah answered, "Gossip travels and my parents would have staged an intervention by now."

"Your mother does love to visit, it's like she just always knows when you've left for work and there she is checking up on me," Florence replied in frustration, "Yesterday she turned up and she spent the entire time telling me how she raised you and George."

"I hate to say it, but it'll only get worse once the baby's here," Elijah warned her, knowing how much joy his mother would find in controlling such a situation.

"She's already contacted the nanny who looked after you and George when you were babies, she's aware that where I come from we raise our children ourselves?" Florence explained, having felt blindsided by Margaret's efforts to involve herself in the arrival of her grandchild, still clueless that there is no biological link between them.

"It's just her way of showing that she cares, she doesn't know how to show love in the way your mother does," Elijah assured her, knowing first hand how overbearing his mother could be, "But I'll be sure to tell her to back off."

"Don't be too harsh, just remind her that we don't need a nanny, I will be fine looking after my baby in the same way my mother looked after me," Florence smiled, appreciating how above and beyond he had gone for her and the baby with no obligation to.

"Noted," Elijah smiled, "What are your plans for the rest of the day? I've got a meeting in central Birmingham."

"I was expecting to spend the day here as I always do," Florence sighed, "Would you drop me off in Small Heath instead? I fancy paying my mother a visit."

"You feel up to it?" Elijah asked, concerned for Florence's well being ahead of the baby's arrival.

"It's just my mother's house, what's the worst that could happen?" Florence grinned as she led Elijah out of the soon to be nursery, the pair heading down the bare hallway towards the staircase. Since moving into what Richard and Margaret referred to as the 'cottage' Elijah and Florence had been busy making alterations to the house to suit their taste.

Florence knew the house existed, but it had been vacant as long as she'd been friends with the boys. She assumed that the real reason she and Elijah were given it was to keep them close, with the house being less than thirty minutes by foot from Harrington House. Calling their new home a cottage was a ridiculous understatement, it had six bedrooms, a drawing room, dining room, library and study.

The Dawson girl also found it incredibly difficult to get used to having staff to do everything. There were maids, butlers and footmen to do everything, she couldn't even move to make herself a cup of tea before one of them did it for her. She knew that Elijah was used to it, but she couldn't tell if he liked it or not. But Florence was also aware that by being there those people were employed, they were being paid by the Harringtons, and she wasn't going to cease that employment and put their livelihoods at risk.

"You promise you'll find a way to get hold of me if you need me?" Elijah said to Florence as he helped her out of the car in front of her mother's house on the ever so familiar Watery Lane.

"Of course," Florence nodded, "But please just remember that you aren't responsible for keeping me and the baby safe, I'm perfectly capable."

"I don't doubt it," Elijah assured her, "But I did make wedding vows, and real or not I'm a man of my word."

"I don't think I tell you enough just how much I appreciate what you've done for me, or for us," Florence smiled at him as they stood on the pavement, cradling her baby bump, "Who knows what might have happened if I'd refused your offer that night."

"Well look at us now," Elijah remarked, conscious of the passersby who might recognise them and close proximity to the home of the Shelby family as he wrapped his arms around the girl, "I know it's only been four months, but I don't regret it, any of it."

"Thank you," Florence smiled as she clung onto him, "Now, don't let me keep you from your meeting, I'll see you later."

"Alright," Elijah nodded, "I'll pick you up this afternoon?"

"Perfect," She replied as he climbed back into the car.

"Give Imelda my love," He smiled as he started up the engine.

"Of course," Florence grinned as she waved him off before returning her attention to her mothers door, knocking on it, and then feeling odd that she didn't live there anymore.

The door opened and Imelda stood there in shock, her hair scraped back and her eyes so tired it seemed that she had been working tirelessly since her daughter had left.

"Flo, what on earth are you doing here?" Imelda exclaimed as she stared at the daughter she had barely seen over the past four months.

"Good to see you too, Ma," Florence grinned, "Elijah had business in the city so he dropped me off on his way."

"Oh, well then you better come in," Imelda smiled, leading her into the house, "How have you been?"

"Good," Florence replied, closing the door behind her, "We've been working on the house, you'll have to come and see it."

"I look forward to it," Imelda answered half heartedly, having struggled with seeing so little of her daughter given how close they were.

"It's going to be magical at Christmas, with the new baby as well, you'll stay with us over Christmas won't you?" Florence replied as she and her mother took seats at the kitchen table.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Imelda smiled, "Even if it means spending Christmas with Margaret Harrington."

"Did she pay well for Diana's wedding dress?" Florence asked, referring to Diana and George's wedding which had happened about two weeks ago.

"Well enough that I've been able to work less," Imelda nodded.

"If you're struggling please tell me, Ma," Florence insisted, taking her mother's hand in hers, "Elijah wouldn't see you go without."

"The boys all miss you," Imelda interjected, not wanting to discuss her financial situation with her daughter.

"It's felt odd not to see them every day," Florence replied, realising that it was the longest she had gone without seeing any of the Shelby brothers since the war.

"Finn's playing out the back, Pol asked me to keep an eye on him, something about a family meeting at the Garrison," Imelda explained, "I'm assuming you don't have any plans to see Tommy while you're here."

"I've not seen him since the wedding, I've not seen any of them since the wedding, Pol sent flowers but apart from that it's been very quiet," Florence told her.

"Polly tells me that Tommy's changed since you and Elijah got married," Imelda told the girl, unable to forget the moments she had noticed between Tommy and her daughter prior to the wedding.

"I wouldn't know, I've not been here," Florence replied, unsure of what else to say.

"Floss," Imelda sighed, bracing herself for potential fall out, "Is that baby actually a Harrington?"

"Why would you ask that?" Florence reported, finding herself immediately defensive.

"Don't think I never saw the way Tommy was with you, a mother knows," Imelda reminded her daughter.

"Anything that happened between Tommy and I was dead in the water before anything happened between Elijah and I," Florence insisted, hating herself for lying to her mother.

"Flossie," Imelda soothed, taking her daughter's hands in hers, "Tommy thinks the world of you, it's quite obvious."

"Don't hold your breath, mother," Florence sighed, "That couldn't be further from the truth."

"What happened between the two of you, hmm?" Imelda continued to probe her daughter, "You were so close not long ago, Pol agrees with me."

"So you've been talking about me?" Florence sighed in frustration.

"Only to Polly, we both want the best for you," Imelda answered, her voice trailing off at the sound of shouting next door.

"What was that?" Florence muttered, "I thought you said Polly and the boys were at the pub."

"They are," Imelda whispered in fear.

Florence stood up, fuelled by adrenaline, "We've got to check what's happening."

"No way," Imelda stood before her daughter, "Not in your condition."

"Well, we should at least bring Finn inside," Florence answered, fearing for the young boy's safety.

"Alright," Imelda nodded, opening the back door and silently gesturing for Finn to come inside.

"Flo, what are you doing here?" Finn remarked as Imelda closed the door softly.

"Visiting my mother, obviously," Florence smirked at the boy, "How are you, little man?"

"I ain't little, I'm big," Finn quipped as Imelda made her way to the front window, getting a glimpse of the street through her net curtains, "I'll be bigger than Tommy one day."

"I don't doubt it," Florence smiled, ruffling her hand through his hair, imagining what her life might be like if her baby was a boy.

"When's the baby coming?" Finn asked, taking a seat on the sofa as the muffled sounds next door continued.

"Before Christmas," Florence answered, realising that Finn was in fact the baby's uncle, "When you're all grown up, you'll look after my little one the way your brothers looked after me won't you?"

"Yeah," Finn nodded with a smile, "Tommy says it's my job to keep 'em safe."

"Good," Florence grinned, trying to ignore the pang in her chest at the idea of Tommy saying those words to Finn.

"They're leaving," Imelda told the girl, "A group of men, they've got a boy with them, they're carrying bags."

"What's that?" Finn looked up at Florence.

"Do you know who your brothers and Polly have left in charge of the shop while they're at the Garrison?" Florence asked.

"Scudboat, why?" Finn asked in innocence.

"I think they've been done over," Florence told the boy.

"We've got to tell Tommy," Finn answered in fear.

"I'll check on Scudboat, you stay here, Finn can get his brothers," Imelda told the girl before exiting the house.

"Come on, Finn," Florence sighed, holding her hand out to the boy.

"Your Ma said you should stay here," Finn replied.

"Yeah, my mother says a lot of things," Florence grinned, "Doesn't mean I always listen to her."

"Alright." Finn smiled, taking her hand.

The pair made their way to the Garrison as quickly as they could, Finn almost dragging her as he clung onto her hand, knowing how angry Tommy would be when he discovered what happened to the shop. They burst through the doors, seeing no sign of the boys, meaning they must be in their usual room. Florence caught a glimpse of Grace at the bar, but she was too busy with a customer to notice her. She wondered if the boys had mentioned her pregnancy to her.

Finn pushed the door to the side room open and Florence stood behind him, catching sight of Tommy for the first time in four months as Finn announced, "Tommy, we've been done over!"

Each of the Shelbys scrambled from their places in the room, Polly followed by Arthur and John ran out of the pub as Tommy and Florence stood across from each other like they were trapped in some sort of time delay, their world frozen while time continued around them. Tommy hadn't seen Florence since the wedding, meaning he hadn't seen the way that her stomach had grown with the baby.

He had always thought of her as beautiful, but seeing her standing before him, carrying their child who would in just mere weeks be part of the world, his heart only yearned to hold her, to know his child. But he knew that he couldn't, he believed that for him to be that child's father was the worst thing that could happen to it.

"We should probably join them," Florence muttered as she noted the way Tommy's eyes lingered on her bump, "Ma's gone round to check on Scudboat."

"You're right," Tommy gulped as he followed her out of the pub.

"How's business been?" Florence asked as the pair paced quickly along the street.

"Same as usual," Tommy answered plainly, "How's married life been treating you?"

"It's good," Florence answered as they turned a corner, "The house is fucking huge."

"I can imagine," Tommy smirked, his girl was just as he remembered her, "You got staff?"

"More than I need," Florence sighed, "But I've never been so fucking lonely."

"Is Elijah not around?" Tommy asked.

"He works most of the day, then he's home in the evening," Florence told him as they reached Watery Lane, "It's fine, it's just during the day I'm left with my thoughts and a growing baby inside of me."

"You know you can come back to Small Heath to see everyone," Tommy assured her, "They've all missed you."

"And you?" Florence asked as they paused outside the open door to the house, the distant voices sounding frantic inside the shop.

"Tommy, we need you in here," Arthur appeared at the open doorway, unknowingly interrupting the moment between the pair.

"Alright, I'm coming," Tommy sighed as the pair followed Arthur inside.

Arthur returned to Scudboat's side, pouring him a glass of whiskey as Florence and Tommy took in the destruction that had been caused. Tables and chairs were upturned, papers were strewn across the floor and there wasn't a penny in sight.

"Well, what the bloody hell happened here?" Arthur asked.

"The Lees, all of them, cousins, nephews, even the bastards," Scudboat answered.

"Where did Ma go?" Florence asked as John appeared from one of the offices.

"I sent her home, she seemed far too uncomfortable amongst this chaos," Polly replied, "They've taken anything they can lay their hands on, four cash boxes."

"They left these," Tommy approached the group, holding up a pair of wire cutters.

"Wire cutters?" Polly sighed, "Why would they leave wire cutters?"

"Nobody move," Arthur muttered, fear lingering in his eyes as he glanced at Florence, far more pregnant than when he last saw her.

"I think our friends are playing the game," Tommy added.

"What game?" Polly asked as she paced towards one of the offices.

"Aunt Pol, don't," John stopped her in fear, "Don't touch anything."

"Erasmus Lee was in France," Tommy muttered.

"Shit," John hissed before glancing at Florence who was slowly piecing the situation together.

"When we gave up ground to the Germans we'd leave behind boobytraps set up with wires and we'd leave wire cutters as part of the joke," Tommy explained, filling both of the women with fear.

"Somewhere in here is a hand grenade," John muttered.

"Holy Jesus," Polly exhaled as Florence cradled her bump in anxiety.

"Attached to a wire," Arthur added as the group kept their eyes on the ground for anything that might trigger the grenade, "Don't move any chairs, or open any doors, go easy John boy."

"No, boys no," Tommy muttered, "No, it's not in here, if it was in here it would've blown by now, it was my name on that bullet that Erasmus sent, he set up a trap alright, he set it up just for me."

"Where's Finn?" Florence whispered, realising that he hadn't returned to the house with his brothers and Polly.

"Down in the garage, why?" Polly asked cluelessly.

"Shit," Florence hissed as she ran straight for the door, knowing that there was only one way the Lees could almost guarantee that Tommy would be the one to receive the bomb.

"Flo, what are you doing?" Tommy called out after her as she ran out onto the street, heading down to where the Shelby boys kept their cars.

"I think I know where they might've planted the grenade," Florence answered as Tommy sped up to catch up with her.

"So just tell me, and then you need to go somewhere safe," Tommy warned.

"I am not scared of the fucking Lee brothers," Florence exclaimed as they reached the garage to see Finn sitting in the driver's seat.

"Finn," Tommy muttered to catch his brother's attention, "Finn, stay exactly where you are."

"I was pretending I was you," Finn giggled with his hands on the driving wheel.

"Which door did you open to come in, Finn?" Tommy asked as he slowly approached the car, Florence lingering behind him.

"I didn't, I climbed in," Finn answered.

"I want you to climb out exactly the same way you climbed in, okay?" Tommy whispered as he reached the side of the car just as Finn unlocked the door, hopping down onto the ground, "No, no, no, Finn!"

Tommy grabbed what Florence assumed was the grenade, shouting "Clear!" Before tossing it across the street towards a puddle before running back towards Florence and Finn, wrapping his arms around both of them as the grenade exploded, both Florence and Tommy breathing heavily.

The three of them walked back towards the street, Tommy crouching in front of Finn as Florence clung onto her baby bump, "That's why you must never pretend to be me, okay?"

Tommy stood up, wrapping his arms around his brothers as Florence attempted to steady her breath, fearing what might have happened to the youngest Shelby if they hadn't got to him in time.

"I'm sorry, Tommy," Finn whispered.

"It's alright, it's not your fault," Tommy assured him, "Now just head back to the house, I just need to talk to Florence."

"Alright," Finn nodded before running back in the direction of Watery Lane.

Tommy turned to Florence, leading her towards the back of the garage, "If you had- if something had happened to you or the baby, I would've never forgiven myself."

"I'm fine," Florence assured him as Tommy stepped closer to her, "I'm fine, the baby's fine."

"This is why I couldn't have you here, I can't put you and the baby at risk." Tommy whispered, tentatively placing his hand against her jaw, running his thumb back and forth.

"I know you think you're protecting me," Florence replied, "But I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself."

"I know that," Tommy answered, "But I will still do everything in my power to keep you both safe, I'll have some of the boys keep eyes on your house until I know that you're safe."

"So even though the reason you wouldn't marry me was to keep me safe, you still insist on protecting me?" Florence muttered in frustrated disbelief.

"I'm never going to stop caring about you or protecting you, but your marriage to Elijah gives you and our baby a life that I couldn't," Tommy explained.

"You lost the right to call it 'our baby' when you refused to marry me," Florence scoffed, stepping back from him, "You don't just get to change your mind the minute you're bored and lonely, I'm married now and Elijah actually cares about us."

"I know that-"

"I could leave Birmingham and never come back, you'd never set eyes on that child, is that what you want?" Florence asked, "Because it's not what I want, call me stupid but I want you in this baby's life, because I know you'd protect it with your life the way you do with Finn, but the minute you do something stupid or decide that you can't cope with me being married to a Harrington, I'm gone."

"Stay," Tommy whispered, laced with self-interest, "I need you to stay."

"I think I need that too," Florence replied, "Which is why I need you to do what I say."

"You know I've never been one for taking orders," Tommy smirked, "But there are a lot of things I didn't do before you."