Arthur never thought he would ever find himself in such situation. But it seemed he just couldn't refuse you anything when you were so insistent. Your pleading doe eyes was one of his biggest weaknesses.

So here he was, dressed in some nobbish suit, washed, smelling nice. He nervously tousled his pomaded hair, clearly feeling out of place.

Arthur has never been to such places before, unlike you, who are used to a luxurious life. He was just a dirty outlaw, all those fancy stuff was foreign to him to say the least. Arthur agreed to go to a Bronte's ball with you, playing the role of your husband, and now he regretted it big time. Although, the sight of you in a beautiful ball gown was still worth it.

You two danced to the accompaniment of the piano, and all he could think about was how not to step on your feet in the process.

“I don't think you've chosen the right person for this,” he grumbled, looking at your lovely face. “I'm afraid to mess this ball up for you, darlin'.”