A/N: This chapter is more fluff and cuteness than anything else XD But you'll miss it when you see the next one... XI. Through the Ice kicks off the main plot. Long time coming, folks!

Winter of 1870

The healing process had been slow thus far, but it had done much help.

At present, Anne holds a cup of hot cider in one hand, her other holding onto Raymond's arm as they walk through town, a smile on both their faces. Their cheeks and noses are red from the cold, but Anne uses this to her advantage and snuggles closer to him.

He chuckles.

"Stop that. You're attracting attention. One moment you are at home, recovering, and the next, you're snuggling a man who isn't your husband without a chaperone. Are you so eager to get back onto the front pages? I had to punch that nosy journalist one time at the Whitby's ball, remember?"

"Mother, stop it," says Anne jokingly. It hadn't been her on the front pages that week, but him. "Our business is not the business of society. Besides, we are engaged to be engaged. Not betrothed for marriage, but betrothed to a betrothal. They can all shove brooms up their arses, for all I care."

Anne's voice was carefree, perhaps a bit too carefree. Her loudness begins to attract attention.

"Quiet. Remember, we are only doing this to not suffocate. We weren't supposed to go further than the lake! We're downtown already, for the love of God!" Raymond whispered angrily as Anne rolled her eyes and sipped her cider. He is like her mother indeed.

"Don't fret so much. My dressmaker is just around the corner. We can visit her, you can let me take some measurements for my winter dresses, then we can go home. Our parents will be none the wiser."

Raymond scoffs. "For someone who isn't supposed to be talking, you are awfully mouthy."

Again, another eye roll.

"You don't mind me being mouthy when we're-" her retort is cut short.

"Quiet."

Anne sticks her tongue out at him and proceeds to finish all of her cider. And then she takes his. Raymond sighs exasperatedly, but he supposes that he really can't ask for much more. Anne is all right and acting like her usual self.

"But you love me even I'm bratty and mouthy and annoying, don't you?" She bats her eyelashes at him and his heart stutters. She bumps playfully against him and he cannot help but flush pink all the way to the ears.

"I love you even if you are talkative and infuriating," he says, rather exasperatedly, turning his head away. And then she begins to laugh, and he follows.

"We sound like a pompous old couple! You should join a theatre production, Ray. Everyone is always looking out for the next handsome smooth-talker. Your tickets will sell out like pot roasts during Christmas."

"You're the ridiculously overdramatic one."

"Liar. You are."

Raymond wrinkles his nose at her.

"It's you," he retorts.

"No, you!"

"Baby," says Raymond.

"Arse!" retorts Anne.

Raymond giggles. Actually giggles. Anne blushes at the sound, but laughs out loud, her raucous giggles drawing curious stares.

"We do sound like a pompous old couple, don't we?" says Raymond, sneaking a kiss on Anne's cheek. He bumps her shoulder gently, and she bumps him back. It is as if the previous week have never taken place.

She sends a coy smile his way, and he sends one right back, a look passing between them before both collapse into another fit of giggles.

He nudges her again. "Anne, we weren't supposed to attract any attention at all! What if someone goes ahead and informs your mother about this? Both our hides will be tanned!"

She nuzzles his neck. "At least we'll be punished together."

"I'm serious," he says, trying to force a semblance of sternness in his tone, but fails.

"Sure, you are. I know you used to like making people angry when we were children. Papa punished you much more than Mama punished me. No, young Anne was an innocent little girl. She still is!" She blows a raspberry at him.

He flicks her nose lightly, rolling his eyes. "No, Anne is not that young anymore, and she is not so innocent. Ladies don't go with their beaus unchaperoned, Miss Liddell."

"I find you calling yourself my beau quite adorable. Remember when we were children and you used to deny it so?" She bats her eyelashes up at him as he grumbles. "And this little unchaperoned excursion was your idea, if I recall correctly, Lord Beaumont."

"Do you remember when you were eleven and you cried because I tried to propose to you?"

That shuts her up.

"W-Well, that memory is more of an embarrassment to you, I'd think," she says after a moment of silence. What George had told her stabs at her heart. "But if it helps your male pride, I wanted to say yes, I was... I was simply momentarily indisposed."

He discreetly wraps an arm around her waist.

"Of course, Arianne, if that is what helps you sleep at night. You just regret that I am not your betrothed yet."

"That is your fault for not proposing yet. Not proposing again, I mean. My ring finger is waiting, sir." She waves her gloved hand in front of his face.

"Soon, dearest."

Truthfully, it amazes Raymond how cheerful and talkative Anne is being. He knows that her scars must still ache as he sneaks a look at her neck, the slit covered by a choker and a high collar- an easy way to hide it for the meantime. He holds her hand, fingers momentarily brushing against the bandage hidden under her glove. The much deeper wounds on her wrists were taking a longer time to heal.

"You're still worried about me?" Anne asks, feeling how tightly he laces their fingers together. "Ray, I'm okay now."

"You're okay now," he repeats, if only to reassure himself.

"I am, really. We should just make merry and have fun. It's almost Christmas, isn't it? You are going to give yourself early wrinkles if you are always in a tizzy like that. You'll ruin your handsome face."

He smirks at her.

"You called me handsome."

"So what if I did? Rake. Be thankful that there is at least one woman in this world who will ever call you handsome."

"A woman? Where?"

She elbows him in the side, then casts her gaze down and sighs.

"Here you are wondering about me being alright, but all I can think of is... are you? You nearly drowned just a few days ago, and you had to spend weeks before that trying to cheer me up. It mustn't have been fun..."

He smooths her hair down.

"Not fun, no, but rewarding. Look at you! You've come from feverish to walking around town and jesting with me. It's certainly a marvelous development, kataigída. As for drowning, I don't think I will ever go swimming again, but I am fine. I may have been born with one functioning lung, but did you ever think me that weak? No? No. You didn't. See?"

"You're an oaf," she says half-heartedly.

He sighs. "What do I have to do to cheer you up? Just..." He tilts her chin up and pulls both sides of her mouth up with his hands. "No, no, no, keep your face like that," he says once he lets her go and she starts to frown again. "You are the one who is going to acquire wrinkles early, I swear."

Slowly but surely, she begins to smile. There is a hitch in his breath.

"No, I won't. I am far too pretty."

"That, you are."

"Great to see you are finally beginning to agree with me."

"Whatever strikes your fancy, my lady."

Anne smiles again. "We're here; this is my dressmaker's."

She looks up at the elegant little sign on top of the door and nods. Raymond opens the door for her, a little bell tinkling as they make their way in.

"Hello, Miss Julia!" Anne greets cheerfully. Raymond looks around to see a woman with greying hair sitting at the counter, mending a piece of cloth. She looks up abruptly and drops her work on the countertop.

"Milady!" she exclaims, bowing to the both of them. "Oh, my, I was worried that you... Goodness! Child, I thought I was never going to see you again after all those terrible news articles. My, there were reports that you'd died!"

Anne's eyes widen as she turns towards him, "How is that for front-page headlines, Ray?"

Raymond clears his throat, uncomfortable. "As you can see, Miss... Julia? Pardon me, I am not the best with names. Anne is alright now."

The woman bows again. "Yes, of course, milord, and I shall pray my thanks. You are... the Duke of Norfolk's boy?"

Raymond nods, unsure what else to do. "I am."

Anne breaks the ensuing silence.

"Miss Julia, Ray here and I decided to escape my confinements at Ravensworth Castle for the meantime to look at the winter catalogue. Would you please be so kind as to show me your newest fashions?"

Miss Julia smiles at her. "Of course, milady. Truthfully, I was hard at work at something for you. I was worried sick about your predicament, so I began crafting a get well soon present, of sorts. Consider it as my Christmas present for you as well, if you would be so kind. Excuse me, I'll go and fetch it."

Mere moments later, Anne has an exquisite coat of dyed blush-pink wool in her hands and tears in her eyes.

"This is beautiful! I truly do not know what to say... ah, I love it!"

Anne hugs the shopkeeper shamelessly, making the old woman laugh.

"An early Happy Christmas to you, milady," Miss Julia turns to Raymond. "And to you as well, milord. Bless your soul for taking care of this sweet girl."

"I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I had let anything worse happen to Anne," he says truthfully as Anne and Miss Julia break their embrace, and Anne clings tightly onto his arm, still teary.

"Happy tidings to both of you. May I know when the wedding is?" The woman laughs, making both Anne and Raymond follow.

"Soon, hopefully," says Raymond. "I am sure Anne would love to have you fashion her wedding gown, but the problem is that I haven't... exactly gotten around to proposing," he mumbles.

"I must say, winter catalogues before wedding dresses. Miss Liddell is only sixteen after all."

"The girls I had met in preparatory school are getting married left and right," Anne points out, shrugging. "No rush, I suppose. We are still young, Ray. But I don't think Papa would appreciate having to wait a few more years for his grandbabies..."

"I think he would have liked more children with Mama, that is why he is constantly at my throat to give him grandchildren." Raymond sighs, shaking his head with a fond smile. "It cannot be helped, I suppose. Miss Julia, you are also making our children's christening gowns, and our daughters' debutante dresses, and their wedding dresses..."

Anne stifles a laugh, "You're going too far, Ray. Come back to earth. You are exactly like Papa."

"Well, I'd love to, milord. But- oh, wait! Lest I forget, I have been meaning to send something the Duke of Norfolk's way, I had just never gotten the chance to do so. It might be useful for the both of you as well."

"Something for Papa? What is it, Miss Julia?"

"The wedding dress he had made for your mother."

A/N: Yes, okay, major filler chapter. Please forgive me ;w; Next one kicks things off, and the most important thing is that it has way more action!