Chapter 12

I was practising my singing."

"Your singing? Here?" Elizabeth looked pointedly around the room once more. "Do you not have a music room for that?"

William planted his feet on the floor and tried to assume a casual air by leaning one arm behind him on the bed, while still desperately clutching the book to his lap. As Elizabeth walked across the room and sat herself down on the edge of the bed, he realised that the title of the book was full in view and there wasn’t really anything he could do about it. The most he could hope for was to distract her enough, and then perhaps she wouldn’t notice. But would she know what he’d been doing up here? He had no idea how much she knew of these things, and she must have heard the noise he was making. He attempted to smile but his mouth wouldn’t keep still and he was sure he must look ridiculous.

Elizabeth leaned towards him, pointing to the book. "Let me see. I did not think you a singer for some reason, but perhaps we can perform a duet some time?"

"A duet?" He was thinking of duets, but not of the singing variety. As she leaned towards him he was being treated to a wonderful view of her cleavage, which was only making matters worse. He desperately wished he’d chosen a bigger book.

"Oh, you wouldn’t want to sing with me, I’ve got a terrible voice. That’s why I came up here. Didn’t want to scare anyone."

"It can’t be that bad, Let me see. Perhaps we can surprise Tara with a song?"

Tara was not the only one who was going to get a surprise if she didn’t stop trying for the book, he thought.

"It’s very hard. The book. A very difficult song. In Greek actually." He gave a little laugh. "Is it hot in here?"

"Yes it is, and I read a little Greek. Come, don’t be shy."

"Women reading Greek?" Another laugh, slightly more hysterical this time. "Who’d have thought it? Whatever next?"

"Oh, William, don’t disappoint me. You’re not one of those men who think women are not capable of learning such things, are you? Give me the book and I will prove to you that we are every bit as clever as men if given the chance. And how did you come to learn Greek?"

"Ethan. He's not as stupid as he makes out, you know. Quite an educated man under that gruff exterior."

"Oh." Another small silence as she took that in, then she frowned. "Wait, that is not Greek."

William suddenly noticed that she had her head practically upside-down and was squinting at the title. "Ow, my leg." He clutched at his thigh most dramatically, causing her to jump back.

"What is it?"

"A leg cramp." He waved her away. "Don’t concern yourself, it will pass."

"You must rub it, hard, that will sort it."

"Of course." William rubbed his thigh vigorously, which was really the last thing he wanted to be doing at that moment, as Elizabeth looked on, perplexed.

"Alex!"

Tara’s voice caused them both to jump. For a moment they just stared at each other as they listened to her footsteps on the wooden stairs.

"Alex, are you up there?"

William looked around in alarm. Could this get any worse? Now, Tara was about to find him, his trousers unbuttoned, in the attic, with Buffy. There was no way he was going to think of a plausible excuse for that.

"She mustn’t find us here," he whispered urgently. "It doesn’t look good."

Elizabeth nodded and whispered back. "I agree, I am supposed to be in bed."

"In bed? Why?"

"To sleep. I had to tell Tara I was tired to get away from her. Why didn’t you rescue me?"

"Er, I had to practise my singing, I’ve already told you."

Elizabeth’s face told him that she didn’t believe him for one moment, but then Tara’s footsteps grew even closer.

"Wait, I will hide in the eaves cupboard." She got up and moved towards the small door at the far end of the room. "Can you close the door behind me?"

"Yes, of course."

William managed to manoeuvre himself into an upright position without dropping the book, and walked awkwardly across the room, earning him another strange look.

"The cramp." He nodded at his leg by way of explanation.

"Oh yes, the cramp." She ducked her head under the low door and as she did so he noticed that she was still trying to read the title. He lips were moving as she mouthed the first two words. "The Amorous Adventures of..."

"In you go." He gave her a little push and she disappeared into the cupboard with a squeal as he shut her in. "Sorry about that, " he whispered through the door as he hastily tucked in his shirt and buttoned up his trousers. Then he slid the book under the mattress with its companion which he'd hidden there earlier, and moved to the window, leaning against the sill.

"Oh, it’s you William. I thought I heard Alex, is he here?" Tara bustled into the room, looking around as she did so. "Who were you talking to?"

He turned around. "Why Tara. How nice to see you. It’s just me, talking to myself, you know what I’m like."

Tara also looked as if she didn’t believe a word of what he was saying. He wished he’d had more practice at lying. It was obviously a skill he needed to cultivate.

"You might have heard me singing."

"Whatever are you talking about? Now I need to find Alex, he has done nothing today, the lazy good-for-nothing."

"We sent him to lie down. Ethan beat him badly and he’s in no fit state to do chores."

"Then who will do them? And come away from the window. William. Can you not see how sunny it is?"

"I’ve already said I’ll do them." William moved from the window, hoping that Buffy wouldn’t sneeze or make any noise. "Just tell me what you need."

Tara turned to leave. "Don’t be ridiculous, William. You are a lord and cannot be seen doing chores in front of our guest. And besides, I need some wood for the range. You know you cannot do that."

"As you keep reminding me."

Even though he should be used to it and it was true, it was still hurtful to be told that he couldn’t do even a simple task like collect wood, because it involved going outside.

"Now, don’t sulk. I will get Ethan to do it, although he is in as foul a mood as I’ve ever seen him. He is not pleased about Buffy."

"He is to leave her alone." William opened the door for Tara. "Come, I will help you to find Alex, I think he may need some of the laudanum. He was in a very bad way when we left him." He spoke a little louder for this last part, hoping that Buffy would hear him and let herself out of the cupboard when they had gone. She seemed clever enough to have picked up his intention. He only hoped that she hadn’t picked up on anything else.

~{~}~{~}~

Elizabeth had indeed realised what he was doing. And she had worked out, to her amusement, the title of the book that he’d been reading. The Amorous Adventures of Miss Abigail. That’s what it had been called. No wonder he’d been hiding up here alone, and looked so embarrassed. No man would want to be caught reading a book about romance.

She waited until the footsteps faded and the room was quiet, then crept out of the cupboard, stretching herself to relieve the stiffness of having been bent almost double. The book must be here somewhere, she reasoned, for he would not have wanted Tara to see it either. Looking around she wondered where it might be hidden in so sparsely furnished a room. There really only was one place. Her hand slipped under the mattress and found not one, but two books. Drawing them out, she read the title of the second.

‘Ladies’ Fashions through The Ages’

A man who was interested in both romance and ladies’ fashions. A very rare creature indeed, and now she fully understood his panic at being found in possession of such reading material. They weren’t very manly topics after all. She tucked them under her arm, thinking that he wouldn’t mind if she borrowed them. Fashion was so interesting a topic, and she wouldn’t embarrass him further by telling him that she had them. When she’d finished with them she’d put them back here and possibly nothing need ever be said about it. Except that perhaps she might discretely start a conversation with him on the topic and see where it led. He may be glad of someone with which to indulge his interest. And then there was that duet. Already they had so much in common.

She made her way down the stairs, shutting the attic door behind her and then looking up and down the corridor to determine which way her room was. The house was vast and she was still a little disorientated by it all. She didn’t see Ethan until her face made contact with his hard chest. She gave a muffled shriek and almost stumbled, but he caught her by the shoulder and righted her, holding her away from him at arm’s length. He looked down at her long and hard and she could do no more than stare back at him like a startled rabbit.

"Careful miss. Don’t want to go ‘urting yourself."

He let go of her and she took a step back, the books clutched to her chest. He was so tall that she had to tilt her head back in order to look into his face and what she saw there drove all thoughts of bravado and defiance out of her mind. No wonder they were all scared of this man. Behind his impassive mask there lurked something that made a shiver creep up Elizabeth’s spine.

Others might have missed it and seen only a bully or perhaps merely a servant who took advantage of his position here and sometimes acted beyond his station. But Caleb had taught her that evil could exist in the most unlikely of places and she was learning to be on her guard. Ethan wasn’t merely a thug. The way he held himself spoke of supreme self confidence and his deference was too studied for her not to catch the underlying mockery of his tone.

She could see what Tara might have seen in him, for he had undoubtedly been a handsome man at one time, although his features were now marred by age and several unbecoming scars. But she had to wonder how willing a participant Tara had been in the liaison that had produced Alex. Ethan looked perfectly capable of taking what he wanted, and there wouldn’t have been much that Tara could have done about it, had she resisted.

There was intelligence and cunning in the eyes that regarded her, just as William had warned, and it was almost as if Ethan knew she could see it. A small hint of a smile played briefly at the corner of his mouth as he looked her up and down.

"Want to watch them stairs, miss. Steep they are. Wouldn’t want any accidents would we?"

Elizabeth could only nod. She didn’t know what he meant by those words, and found it hard to believe that he was speaking only with her best interests in mind. Was it a veiled threat? She made to walk around him but he stepped into her path and blocked her escape.

"About the master. He’s - ‘ow can I say this. Bit wrong in the ‘ead. Don’t just keep ‘im locked up ‘ere only because of the sun thing." He paused for a moment as if he wanted to see the reaction that his words were having on her.

She tried to keep her face as impassive as his was, but a little of the shock she was feeling must have been apparent.

"He’s unpredictable, like ‘is father, so I’d be careful if I were you." Again there was that small, mocking smile as he stepped out of her way. "Just thought I’d warn you. Good day miss."

He didn't wait for her to answer, but strode away towards the grand staircase, leaving her frozen in place to digest his words. She didn't believe them for one minute. She really didn't. And she told herself this over and over again as she finally managed to move and make her way back to her bedroom.

But they were there now, echoing in her mind, and they weren't going to go away just because she wanted them to. William appeared very much the innocent, after all he was interested in fashion and romance, and had shown nothing but kindness and concern for her since she'd been here. But he did seem very sensitive as Tara had said, and the way he'd behaved in the attic showed how highly strung he was.

And reputations such as the Angelus legend didn't just spring from nothing. Where there was smoke, there was usually fire. She opened the large wardrobe and hid the books under a pile of clothes, having suddenly lost all interest in reading them for the moment. She needed to see William again to confirm to herself that what Ethan had said was untrue. Needed to hear him talk with that slightly hesitant stammer he was prone to when he was nervous. To remember how open and honest she'd thought him, and how gentle he'd been with her. Ethan was just being malicious. He obviously didn't want her here. He'd made that plain enough this morning and because of that she wasn't going to believe a word he said about William.

Was she?

The thought made her hesitate so she removed her shoes once more, and lay back on the bed, her mind a jumble of contradictory thoughts. Just a few moments to rest and think about things. Then she'd go and find him. William was someone special, she knew that for certain, but could they ever truly be happy together? She had no doubt that as two people they could be, but were the fates going to allow it? They were both fugitives from the outside world, kindred spirits, brought together for what? She just couldn't believe that she had ended up in this strange place for no reason other than chance. That she had made such a connection with William in so short a time only to find that her feelings were based on lies.

And now Ethan was in the mix. Any chance of happiness between William and her rested firmly in his hands. She could see that now. Whether she stayed, or even if she lived or died depended on him, and whether it was expedient for him to keep her here. She could quietly disappear from this place and no one would ever trace her, or find her body. Or he could simply let it be known where she was and the law would see to the rest. He would find out soon enough what she’d done.

She did not think the latter an option, for Ethan did not seem the type to want to draw the attention of the law to this place, but the former? Alex had said they were all scared of him and he'd not been exaggerating the fact. She could see why they all deferred to him now, and to have any chance of hiding here she was going to have to do the same. And much as she'd been pleased to see William stand up to him earlier, she could see now that it had not been a good thing to encourage him in. Particularly as he was doing it to defend her. That cast her firmly in the role of a disruptive influence that Ethan wasn't going to tolerate.

Elizabeth fell asleep with a picture of Alex and his swollen and bloodied face in her mind. And in her dreams, it was William lying broken on the ground while Ethan laughed and told her it was her fault because she had told him to stand up for himself. She slept badly, tossing and turning as the nightmare overtook her and woke up some time later, her breathing uneven and her heart racing.

There was no water with which to wash the sleep from her face, so she rubbed her eyes and raked her fingers through her hair, smoothing it out the best she could. She needed to find William before he took it upon himself to confront Ethan again, but she needed to see him anyway. Ethan’s words were still there in the back of her mind and they had upset her more than she had given them credit for.

Please don’t let them be true, she prayed. Please don’t let him reveal himself to be the monster everyone thought he was. The monster he was perfectly happy to let everyone think he was.

Where was he? She needed to see him.

Chapter 13

William made a big show of helping Tara to find Alex, while in his mind he frantically tried to think of a more plausible excuse for his behaviour in the attic. Buffy had looked very doubtful when he’d said he’d been singing and she’d obviously thought him mad when he’d pretended to have the leg cramp. As he remembered that, he felt very foolish, and hoped he didn’t blush too much when next he saw her. The best thing he could do was act as if the whole incident had never happened, and hope that she did the same. And later he needed to retrieve the books he’d left there before anyone found them. Of course, everyone in the household knew they existed. They all just pretended that they didn’t. And it was definitely not reading material for a genteel young lady like Buffy.

"This is a waste of time." Tara eyed him suspiciously. "Are you sure you don’t know where he is?"

"I’ve no idea. I’m not his keeper." William pushed his hands into his pockets and watched as she opened the cellar door and peered into the darkness. He did in fact know full well where Alex went when he wanted to disappear, but he wasn’t about to tell Tara. "Do you mind if I go now?"

She waved him away. "Yes, yes. And don’t go waking Buffy up. The poor girl was quite exhausted."

"So, which room did you put her in?" He tried to sound casual, but Tara picked up on it immediately.

"The King’s Room, and I’ll be watching you William. Let her sleep."

"The King’s Room? Did you tell her about the ghost?"

"No, I did not." Tara paused for a moment, a dreamy smile on her face. "It’s the grandest room in the house. And I just couldn’t resist. It’s so nice to have a girl in the house to spoil, once again." Then she seemed to remember what she was saying and the smile faded. "It was a long time ago, and you are not to mention the ghost, do you hear?"

But William didn’t hear the last part because he was already walking away. Would it be mean to tell Buffy that the room was said to be haunted? He’d never actually seen the ghost, but many claimed to have, including Tara, which was why he’d been so surprised that she’d put Buffy there. As he climbed the stairs he thought that perhaps he should warn her, but then she might be too scared to sleep there. On the other hand, that meant that she might want some company, and he had enjoyed waking up with her this morning. He was quite prepared to forgo the luxury of his bed for the chair if she perhaps found herself too scared to sleep alone. He would be her protector and stand against the monsters and demons for her.

He indulged in his fantasy as he walked along the picture gallery, fully intent on going back to his bedroom and writing some poetry, but his feet walked right past his door of their own accord. Surely she’d been asleep for long enough, and it wouldn’t hurt to see if she was awake now? She’d asked him to show her the house, and he really needed to see how she was after the incident in the attic. He was, in truth, a little nervous about how she was going to react to him having pushed her into the cupboard after what must have seemed very strange behaviour on his part.

As he raised his hand to knock, the door opened and Buffy appeared looking sleepily dishevelled. She blinked several times as if she was having trouble registering who he was and then she ran a hand through her hair.

"I need a comb." She grimaced as her fingers caught in a snag and William smiled at her.

"I can help you with that, here." He held the door open for her and she walked rather bemusedly back into the room as he followed her and walked over to the dressing table. He opened the drawer and groped around, then pulled out a silver backed hairbrush. "Will this do?"

She took it from him and sat herself down at the stool in front of the mirror. "Thank you William, it will do fine."

He stood back and watched her as she began working the brush through the long strands, starting at the ends then making the strokes longer and longer until she was sweeping the brush the length of her hair. He thought that perhaps she might need help and he should fetch Tara, but he really didn't want her here intruding on what he was determined to have as his private Buffy time. Tara had had her for long enough this morning. And Buffy hadn't yet mentioned anything about the attic, for which he was most grateful. Maybe she would be too polite to bring it up and they could quietly forget it had ever happened. The next time he needed some relief he would make sure he was somewhere she wouldn't find him. Preferably somewhere with a lock.

"There, all done." She put down the brush and turned to him. "Does it look better?"

His thoughts had wandered a long way from hair brushing in just a few seconds, then it dawned on him that maybe he should have offered to help her with it, and now he'd lost the opportunity to touch all that wonderful hair because she'd finished.

"It's, it's...lovely. I could have, you know, helped, with the hair."

"Oh. That would have been nice. It's quite difficult combing your own hair."

She stood up and he watched in fascination as she threaded her hands under the hair at her neck and swept it into the air, letting it fall behind her shoulders. He wanted to do that for her too, so he stuffed his hands into his pockets instead.

"Maybe next time? William, I want to ask you something."

"Did you sleep?"

They both spoke at the same time, so William shrugged and indicated that she should continue but she didn't seem inclined to.

"No, you speak. What did you say?"

"I was wondering if you managed to sleep. I've never liked this room." Damnation, why had he said that? Now she looked worried. "It's too grand for me, I don't know why Tara put you in here."

"Oh, she was a little excited. Wanted to show off, I think." She looked around. "It is rather grand."

"So you slept okay?" He peered at her, only just noticing that she didn't look very rested at all. "You still look tired."

"You are full of compliments today. No, don't blush William, it was meant as a joke." As she spoke she walked back to the bed and climbed up on to it. For a moment he thought she was going back there to sleep, but she sat herself on the edge, her legs dangling because it was so high, and patted the space beside her.

"Sit and talk with me for a while. If we go downstairs, I fear Tara will commandeer us again and we will have no privacy."

He looked at her then at the door. "But isn't she liable to come in here?"

"Not for a while. Come, I won't bite you."

He walked over to the bed, and jumped up beside her, bracing himself for more questions about what he'd been doing in the attic. He'd have to stay with the singing story, but he was sure she'd seen the title of the book. How would he ever explain that?

"Tell me who they are." She pointed to the portraits that hung on the far wall. "They look so grim."

William leaned back on his elbows and contemplated the paintings. "That one is the first Lord Angelus, and the smaller one is his wife. And that's why he looks so grim. Just imagine being married to her."

She giggled at his joke, which pleased him. "He built the house, the first part anyway. Did Tara tell you that Charles the second reputedly slept in this room?"

"She did mention it." Her face turned a little serious. "It almost felt as if he was still here. I had a dreadful nightmare."

"I'm sorry to hear that." William sat upright again and turned to her. "Would you like another room? A smaller one perhaps?"

"No. Tara would be mortally offended I think. The room is fine, but can I tell you about the dream? I find it helps to dispel them if I talk about them."

William looked at her intently. She didn't look very happy at all, hadn’t since he'd come into the room. He was only just realising it. Grateful as he was that she didn't want to talk about the attic incident, he didn't like the thought of her being so unhappy that she was having nightmares.

"Of course you can Buffy. You can tell me anything, you know that, don't you? If you want to talk about, you know, what happened on the cliff road you can. I was selfish to say I didn't want to hear about it."

He had been selfish to say that. If she needed to tell him, then he must let her, regardless of whether he was ready to hear it or not.

She shook her head. "No. that's alright. It's the dream, it was about Ethan." Then she looked away as if she couldn't go on. He tentatively reached out and cupped the side of her face with his hand, turning her back to him. It was rather a bold move, and it almost felt like it was his first time touching her. Which was strange since he'd held her several times since they'd first met, and they'd held hands in the library only a few hours ago. She didn't seem to mind though and brought her hand up to cover his as she gave him a rather watery smile.

"He said some awful things about you, and they really upset me. Who is he William?" She squeezed his hand as she spoke, removing it from her face, but keeping hold of it. "I just can't get it out of my mind."

"I'm so sorry. Was it what he did to Alex? Perhaps that's what triggered the dream?"

"No, it wasn't that, he said you were..." She looked away again. "Like your father."

William frowned. "Like my father? I don't remember him at all, he left when I was very young. Did he say anything else?"

He waited for her answer, almost forgetting to breathe as he did so. Had she had some sort of prophetic dream, and was she about to tell him something about his father that he'd really rather not know? Ethan had known his father well, what on earth had he said to Buffy?

She turned her face back to him and he saw her shudder, her shoulders shaking as she tried to speak.

"Hey, come here." He slipped his arm around her back and pulled her against him. She needed the comfort, he reasoned and she wasn't protesting, so he must be doing the right thing. She'd tell him if he took too much of a liberty, he was sure of that, and she might find it easier to say it if she didn't have to look at him. He dropped his voice a little. "What did he say about my father?"

"He said that he was mad, and unpredictable. And that you were the same."

William went very still for a moment. Ethan had upset her indeed, and he was going to speak to him. Let him know once and for all who was the master in the house. And Buffy needed to know this for her own peace of mind.

"Don't worry about it, I am going to talk with Ethan. It's about time I asserted myself. He shouldn't be allowed to beat Alex senseless, and he should not talk to me the way he does. Things are going to change around here, Buffy." He lifted her head so that he could look into her eyes and let her know that he meant it. "It's your doing, you've given me the courage to do this. To stand up to him."

As she looked up at him, her eyes growing bigger by the moment, he could swear that she looked about to cry. Not quite the reaction he'd hoped from his rallying speech. He thought she'd be proud of him, but she shook her head and gave a small sob.

"No, you must not. Can you not see that it is the worse thing you could do? Please do not make him angry." A few tears spilled over and tracked down her cheeks, and she wiped them away before continuing. "Look at what happened to Alex because you brought me here. I don't want that happening to you too. I didn't want it happening to Alex. Please William."

"I thought it was what you wanted?" He was feeling genuinely confused now. She'd been proud of him when he'd stood up to Ethan in the bedroom, and now he didn't know what she wanted of him.

"This morning in the kitchen you said we should stand against injustice, and that's what I want to do. It's just a dream, they aren't real, and they can't hurt you."

He pulled her back against him, letting his fingers move lightly over the mass of hair that spilled over her shoulders. Reminding himself that she'd been through something terrible and traumatic in the last few days and he was to just go gently with her and let her work it out in her own way.

"I don't understand what you're asking me to do. Are you saying you don't want me to confront Ethan about Alex, or anything else?"

"I don't think we should make him angry." She moved her hand to the front of his shirt and absently ran her finger over one of the buttons. Her voice still a little husky from the tears. "If you take him on now, he'll blame me, and then I won't be safe here. And I need to stay here, William. I really need a place to hide. It's horribly selfish of me, but in my dream, you were dead, he'd killed you, and he said it was my fault for making you stand up to him. Who is he?"

"He's run the estate for as long as I can remember, and he's well educated, although he pretends not to be, but apart from that I've no idea where he came from, or who he is. But Buffy, rest assured he'll never lay a hand on you. I won't stand by and let that happen."

She gave another small sniff, but seemed a little more cheerful when she answered him. "I know that, and thank you. And we shouldn't let him beat Alex either. I just think I need to be careful around him. He could make a lot of trouble for me."

William knew she was right. He'd wanted her to be safe here, but Ethan went out into the world, travelled to Plymouth regularly. Whatever Buffy had done, he'd find out about it. The question was, what would he do then?

She wriggled in his arms, causing him to momentarily lose balance, and he flopped back onto the bed taking her with him. He lay on his back, thinking about what she'd said and contemplated the ceiling with all it's very unsuitably unclothed cherubs looking cheekily down at them. He couldn't move because she had his arm trapped behind her back where she'd fallen on it and her hair was tickling his cheek. So he just lay there and savoured the feel of her lying beside him.

She was staring at the ceiling too, and it seemed to be time for another of those comfortable silences as they both thought about what had been said.

William couldn't help feeling a little frustrated at not being able to take Ethan on in the way he'd wanted to. He'd really felt ready to because of the strength Buffy's arrival had given him, but now she didn't want him to do it. But he'd do anything she asked, apart from let Ethan hurt her. He was already half-way to being her willing slave.

"Let's talk about something else." She let her head roll toward him and he did the same. Her features looked different close up, and he had to squint his eyes a little to focus. Pink lips, slightly parted, teeth resting on bottom lip, biting down lightly. He wanted to do that to her. Wondered if she'd mind, whether she'd been kissed before.

She smiled. "I fear you are a romantic at heart, like me."

He frowned slightly. Not what he'd expected her to say. Then he tried to refocus his attention to her lips once more. It was too soon to kiss her. He'd known her barely a day.

She tried again. "I thought the dresses of the last century must have been very heavy and awkward to wear. I hope dresses that large never come into fashion again. What do you think?"

Dresses? Why was she trying to have a conversation on ladies' fashion with him?

"Umm, I've never thought about it before." Her eyes were green, but mixed with a little blue, giving them a smoky appearance. He wanted to paint her portrait.

"Oh. I thought you'd be interested in fashion." She was looking a little puzzled.

"Why?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "No reason. Do you think Tara might be coming to fetch me soon?"

"Maybe. Why should you think me interested in fashion?" He felt a small stab of disappointment as she sat up and shook out her hair. He hadn't kissed her, but then it probably was too soon, so he twisted himself into a sitting position as well.

Then suddenly it dawned on him. Fashion through the ages. Ladies' fashion through the ages. She'd seen the book. And that meant that she'd seen Miss Abigail too. He felt himself growing hot at the thought of what her next question might be, then it dawned on him that she had genuinely been trying to have a conversation about fashion with him. Which meant that although she might have seen the book, there was a good chance that she hadn't seen the contents yet.

She stood up and held out her hand to him. "Come. let's go and see if Tara needs any help preparing the luncheon. You must be hungry as you didn't have any of her lovely porridge this morning."

He made a face as she pulled him up from the bed. "I loathe Tara's porridge, but I am hungry now. It will be bread and cheese. It's always bread and cheese."

Where were the books? He had to get back up to the attic and see if they were still there. The so-called fashion book was particularly scandalous, and he'd never be able to face her if she saw the pictures in that. He felt himself start to go red again, and to his horror, a certain part of his body started reacting to the thought of those pictures.

This was becoming a problem. Since Buffy had arrived he'd been having one lewd thought after another. He'd thought about sexual matters before, but never with this frequency. Was this normal? There was no one to ask. If he'd ever needed a father figure to set him right on these things, it was now. He held the door open for Buffy, hoping she wouldn't notice the bulge that was appearing in his trousers, and started reciting the most boring poem he could think of in his mind in an effort to quell it.

And the next time her lips were that close to his, he was going to take a chance and kiss her. She had been right about Ethan, and there was no telling how long she might be safe here. There was no sense in wasting time that they might not have. He was already sure he'd fallen in love with her, and as soon as the opportunity presented itself he was going to tell her. Then perhaps she'd let him kiss her.

He went back to reciting the poem. But it wasn't working. It wasn't working at all.

Chapter 14

At the end of the first week at the Angelus mansion, Elizabeth found her new life to be slipping into a comfortable routine. She seemed to have come to an unspoken agreement with Ethan, who had hardly acknowledged her presence since their meeting near the attic stairs. Tara was still quite scandalised at the thought of her helping out with the chores, but little by little she had been persuaded to let her do what she considered were the more ladylike tasks, such as mending, and arranging flowers. Both William and Alex had found the sudden appearance of flowers in the house highly amusing, since no one seemed to have ever bothered before, but the garden, untended as it was, was positively overflowing with roses and a whole host of other flowers that cried out for cutting.

She held up the shirt she had been mending and inspected it. Knotting off the thread, she was secretly of the opinion that it should be cut up for rags, it was in such a poor state. But Tara would have none of it, declaring that it was quite serviceable and Alex could have it if it was too far gone for William to wear. None of them seemed to have any decent clothes. William was a lord, yet he wore the same thing day in and day out. Of course, he never went anywhere that warranted dressing up, but for Elizabeth, who was by far the best dressed person in the house thanks to the wardrobes full of women’s clothes, dressing up had always been such a pleasurable activity that she couldn’t imagine how anyone could not care about how they looked. It surprised her given William’s supposed interest in fashion. And that reminded her of the books she’d found in the attic, which she had forgotten all about until now. Tonight she would take them out and look at them.

The right clothes not only conveyed status, they made you feel good, she thought to herself, as she folded the shirt and reached for the first of a large pile of socks that Tara had again insisted had a few good years in them yet. None of them here seemed to notice that the clothes they wore were old and outmoded, possibly because they had no one to compare themselves to, or to impress. Tara had started to make an effort since Elizabeth had arrived, but there was little in the house that fitted her robust figure. The Angelus ladies all seemed to have been very slight and thin, and there were dresses in the house that even Elizabeth, small as she was, could not fit into.

She glanced up at William who was seated at the kitchen table, writing, and who never seemed to be out of her sight. He followed her around diligently, asking her endless questions about the outside world, playing music for her or just working quietly beside her. Twice he had taken her hand in his and looked as if he was going to say something of great importance, but it had always turned out to be a comment about the weather or something equally trivial. Sometimes he just sat, elbows on the table and head in hands, staring at her for long moments and he would invariably jump almost out of his chair when she spoke to him at those times. As if he had been thoroughly lost in some fantasy dream world.

He took after his mother rather than his father, she decided. There was a great resemblance in the bone structure and she liked that he was not so tall that she had to crane her neck to look at him, as she had to with some men. She sometimes found tall men quite intimidating. And William was possibly the only one who hadn’t referred to her lack of height. He didn’t notice her watching him, engrossed as he was. He seemed to write endlessly, but as yet hadn’t let her read any of his work, always dismissing it as mere scribbling not fit for an audience. And his skin was healing well, and revealing him to be just as handsome as she’d thought he would be.

She shook herself from her musing and returned her attention to the sock, pushing her fist into it and squinting at the hole, then she took if off and threw it back into the basket.

"I fear there is not enough light left to sew by."

William looked up. "Would you like to go along to the music room? I could play something for you."

Elizabeth stretched her arms above her head, noticing full well how wide William’s eyes went when she did that, then she got up. "I’ll just find Tara and tell her I’ll do these tomorrow. Then perhaps you can sing for me. You still haven’t performed that song you’ve been practising."

At this Alex, who had been quietly drinking himself to sleep in the corner, gave a loud snort and spat a mouthful of beer into his lap, while William managed to go every shade of red that Elizabeth had ever seen.

"I don’t see what is so funny, Alex. He has been practising every day, haven’t you William?" She wouldn’t tell about the romantic novels and the interest in fashion, but what harm was there in a nobleman singing as a hobby? It was a perfectly legitimate pastime. William was just being modest, that was all.

At this Alex gave another snort of laughter and looked near to choking so she hurried over to him and patted him vigorously on the back.

"Control yourself Alex, William has been practising for an hour a day and I have great expectations that he will deliver a fine performance when the time comes. I have offered to help him repeatedly but he will have none of it. What is so funny?"

The only time William left her side was for his daily singing practise. He had told her this himself, and stressed the need for privacy because he feared his voice was not good enough to be heard yet. Perhaps Alex had heard him, and that was why he was laughing. And now he looked so embarrassed at Alex’s reaction that she was beginning to wish she hadn’t said anything at all. She finished up with a slightly harder pat than was necessary in an effort to get Alex to quieten down, then turned to William.

"Forgive me. I would not have said anything had I known that this would be the reaction. The piano will be fine, but do not leave us in suspense for much longer William. I am sure you are just being modest, and that we will all be amazed by your hidden talent."

At this Alex fell off his chair, while William grabbed his wine glass and drained the contents in one, then turned to leave.

Elizabeth thought that perhaps she ought to change the subject, he looked so embarrassed. She took hold of his arm as he nearly knocked her down in his effort to get out of the room, and stopped him.

"Wait William. I have a better idea. When I have spoken to Tara, shall we play a game?"

"A game?" William’s face was thankfully returning to it’s normal colour. "You mean like cards?"

"Don’t you play ‘im at cards. He cheats. And Tara’s gone to bed with an ‘eadache."

Elizabeth looked at Alex, who was still sitting on the floor where he’d landed. "Has she? And Ethan is away, is he not? Good, we shall not be disturbed."

"You cheat too." William poured himself another cup of wine. "I only cheat because you do."

"Never mind about cheating. I don’t want to play cards. I have something in mind which will be much more fun. Let’s go and play at dressing up. There are so many clothes in the house. Come on, it will be very amusing, do you not think?"

Both men stared at her as if she’d completely lost her mind.

"Why should dressing up be amusing?" William ran a hand through his hair and looked over at Alex as if asking for some masculine solidarity on this.

Alex shook his head vigorously to back him up. "Not getting me in no fancy clothes."

"Oh." Elizabeth pulled as disappointed a face as she could muster. She was learning fast that the helpless female act was a very powerful one for getting what you wanted. She gave a little sniff and turned away. "I just thought you might like to indulge me, that’s all. But never mind, I will go to bed too. Goodnight."

This time William stopped her. "Don’t go. We’ll, we’ll play your game. Won’t we Alex?"

Alex shook his head in response, then peered at William and turned it into vigorous nodding. "Do I ‘ave to?"

"Oh please do, Alex." Elizabeth clapped her hands together. "It will be so much fun, and you will look so handsome in proper clothes."

The compliment sent Alex into such a fit of stammering that she thought that she would have to go and pat his back again, but he managed to stop himself. Meanwhile, she noticed that William was grinning broadly and holding out the wine cup she’d drunk from earlier. The one small cupful had sent her mind spinning and she’d refused any offer of a refill as she really wasn’t used to the effects of it. William and Alex, on the other hand, had been drinking for most of the evening, and were only just beginning to look a little drunk.

"I have a condition to make."

Elizabeth eyed the cup suspiciously. "And that would be?"

"We’ll play dress up," William flicked a glance to Alex, then back to her, "if you join us in this." He held out her cup. "Or can’t ladies hold their liquor? I will understand if you’re too fragile for it."

He was issuing a challenge, and playing her at her own game. This was a side of him she hadn’t yet seen. And, of course, there was no way that she could back down from this. She stood in defence of the whole of womanhood as she took the cup from his hand.

His expression changed momentarily to one of relief, before the grin returned once more, and she could see how worried he’d been that she wasn’t going to take it and leave him there looking a fool. She matched his grin with one of her own. This was an experience she ought to have. She wasn’t just defending her sex in this, it was a rite of passage. One she would probably never be allowed in the outside world. And she already trusted these two to keep her safe and not take advantage of her.

She looked him coolly in the eye. "What are you waiting for, fill it up, and I will show you how fragile women are. But I warn you that I have conditions of my own and if I do this, you must do everything that I say tonight."

William splashed wine into her glass and watched her as she knocked it back. "That will not be a problem. But I don’t think you will last past two glasses."

"We shall see about that. Bring the bottle will you?" She flounced out of the kitchen already feeling the effect of the alcohol. A small surge of wicked abandonment, and a slight tilting of the room. The boys had been drinking for far longer than her tonight so she was confident that she would be the last one standing. They had to help Alex up the stairs as it was, and there was a great deal of theatrical shushing and fingers on lips as they tiptoed past Tara’s room. Elizabeth had no idea where to start, so she asked William.

"There are a good many clothes in the wardrobe in my room. Shall we start there?"

He shrugged his shoulders at this. "Good a place as any, come on Buffy, your cup is empty."

~{~}~{~}~

William wasn’t intending to get Buffy very drunk. He just wanted to see what she’d be like with the loosened inhibitions that alcohol brought. It was curiosity, no more, he assured himself, and she was perfectly safe with him. There was no way he would ever take advantage of her, or let Alex do so. This was the first time he’d felt even the slightest bit tipsy since she’d arrived and it seemed impolite to get drunk alone. All these excuses ran through his head as he followed her into her bedroom, and over to the huge wardrobe that stood against one wall.

He lifted the wine bottle and raised his eyebrows, secretly impressed at the way she steadfastly held out her cup and let him fill it. She was a hell of a woman, and one who, he imagined, wouldn’t fail to keep surprising him. And there was no way she was going to win this drinking contest. He wasn’t half as drunk as she thought him to be and he’d been drinking for as long as he could remember. From the way she was already swaying unsteadily as she tossed back the second glass he could tell that she wasn’t very practised at this.

Alex fell into the wardrobe as soon as the door was opened and they both had to haul him out, laughing as they did so. It reminded him of how they’d laughed on the night they’d taken the coach out, and how much his life had changed since then. It was probably a long time since this house had heard feminine laughter. All the Angelus women in the portraits that filled the house either looked grim or very sad. Virtually none of them gave the impression of having been happy here. He wondered if that might, perhaps, be about to change. No, he hoped that it might be about to change, and there was no way he was wearing that.

She was holding out an elaborate brocade coat that could have been worn by King Charles himself, and she was smirking, throwing the challenge back at him. He had no option but to take it. It smelled very musty and looked rather moth eaten, but he reached for it dubiously.

"Put it on, I think it will fit you perfectly. Come, I am good at these things. By the end of the evening you will look the perfect gentleman." She gave a small hiccup as she finished her speech and dived back into the wardrobe.

"Now one for Alex. Ahh, here is the perfect one." She re-emerged with a similar looking coat and threw it at Alex. It landed on his head and he had to be rescued once more as he struggled to fight it off. Between them they managed to get him in it and then William slipped into his own. It did fit him rather well, but it was very dusty and sent him into a fit of sneezing. Was a kiss worth this? For, if he was honest with himself, that was what he was hoping would happen tonight. Twice in the past week he’d tried to declare his love for her, but the words had failed to come out and he’d muttered something inconsequential and practically run away from her.

And he couldn’t kiss her without declaring some sort of feelings for her. That wouldn’t be proper at all. At least he imagined it wouldn’t be proper, all he had to go by were his instincts on the matter.

"Now go to the mirror and look at yourselves," she ordered, and they both trooped obediently across the room and looked.

Alex burst out laughing again and then realised that no-one else was, so he stopped abruptly. William stared at himself long and hard, wondering if she saw what he saw when she looked at him. He’d changed so much in the last month that he hardly recognised himself. His life that had been lacking in any kind of focus and devoid of all hope was now abundant in both. And the coat made him realise how different his life might have been had he not been cursed with this disease that didn’t allow him to go in the sun. He would have worn fine clothes and hosted fabulous balls and had society women at his feet. He was only guessing at the latter part, reasoning that even if they hadn’t found him physically attractive, then his money and title would have made him so.

But he wouldn’t be standing here trying to please this rather tipsy and very beautiful young woman who called herself Buffy, and who wouldn’t tell him her real name. And he wouldn’t change that for all the society hostesses in the world. Right now, this was all he wanted to be doing. So he smiled and tried to look like a lord for once as she stood watching them.

"So, how do we look?" He held his arms out and the coat gaped open, so she stepped towards him and did the buttons up, sliding her fingers from one to the other as she did so, and looking him in the eye all the while. His mouth went very dry as she did that, and he swallowed hard. He really wanted to kiss her, but Alex was standing next to him grinning like an idiot and he couldn’t do it in front of him. She finished with the buttons and walked around the back of him, then he felt her hand on the back of his neck gently pulling out the strands of his hair that had got caught up in the collar. That sent another wave of sensation right through his body. He’d always loved it when Tara had messed with his hair, but Buffy touching it was sheer heaven. He gave a little shudder, which he hoped that she didn’t notice, but knew that she did because of the giggle that escaped her.

"There, that’s better." She walked to stand between him and Alex and they stood in silence. Each of them caught in the moment, their reflection looking like a painting from another time. She didn’t protest as he slipped his arm around her back, but rather leaned into him very slightly, and gave a little nod, which he caught in the mirror.

You’re mine, Buffy. He didn’t say it aloud, because he didn’t need to, he knew she could feel it. It made the moment strange and surreal, she was in period dress too, and for the first time in his life he felt that this room might be haunted after all. The air was charged with something other-worldly, as if time itself had stopped and trapped them here. And he felt a sudden panic descend on him as if from nowhere which made him pull her in even tighter to his side. Alex had by this time lost interest and wandered back over to the wardrobe, leaving just the two of them standing there. She leaned her head against his chest and he saw her mouth move as she mouthed something at him in the mirror, but he couldn’t catch what she said, so he tilted his head and frowned a little to let her know he hadn’t caught it. Then she went up on tiptoe and whispered close to his ear.

"You look very handsome, my lord. I fear that I am quite dazzled by you."

And for a split second, and for the first time, that was what he truly saw himself as. Lord William Angelus. Master of all he surveyed. And he watched as the image in the mirror changed, and his life as it could be unfolded before him. A wife to love and comfort him. Children to carry on his name. A future he thought he’d never have.

The wife made him tremendously happy, but for the children there was only sadness. What if they were like him, condemned to live in the darkness? Was it a risk he was prepared to take? But wasn’t that what life was all about? Taking those chances, risking failure in the hope of realising dreams?

He blinked, the image disappeared and there again were two people who stood so close to happiness, they only had to reach out and take it. He rubbed his cheek against her hair and took a deep breath, memorising the scent, feeling its silky caress, aware that Alex was watching them.

She giggled and whispered to him. "You are not as drunk as you pretend to be, my lord."

He lifted his head, unable to mask the happiness that showed so plainly on his face. "Then I will match you drink for drink, my lady." He let his hand slide across her back and caught hold of her hand, feeling a boldness he’d never felt in his life. She gave him the confidence to do this because he knew he could trust her with his feelings. Knew she’d go gently with them in all his insecurities and inexperience. And he loved her so much that he wanted to climb to the top of the tower and shout it as loud as he could for everyone to hear.

They all picked up their cups and William emptied the bottle as he filled them. He squinted at it then put it down and held his up. "A toast?"

Elizabeth held up hers. "Yes, a toast. But to what? No wait, I have it." She placed her cup in William’s hand and virtually disappeared into the wardrobe, rummaging about the clothes until she found what she was looking for.

"How about..." She held her prize aloft and looked at William with a wicked smile. "Miss Abigail? We will drink to romance." She staggered a little as she said it and he put out a hand to steady her. "Then perhaps you will read to us from it, William. Please."

She was looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes, exactly as you would if you were half way to being drunk as a lord. They all dutifully clinked their glasses together, then Elizabeth handed him the book and rather unsteadily plopped down on to the floor. She patted the spaces on either side of her and commanded them regally to sit down. Alex fell down beside her, bumping his head on the wardrobe door as he did so and William lowered himself cautiously, wondering how he was going to get out of this one with his reputation intact.

They were both waiting, Alex rubbing his sore head and Buffy nodding him encouragement between taking sips of her wine. Had she read it already? It didn’t seem so, for she hadn’t looked shocked or scandalised when she’d revealed it, and Alex couldn’t read anyway. He only looked at the pictures, and this one didn’t have any.

William decided that the only way out was going to be to make up a story and pretend he was reading from the book, but his wine-befuddled mind was suddenly curiously blank. He who had read virtually every book in the house suddenly couldn’t think of a single story.

"Once upon a time...once upon a time..." They were waiting, Alex with his mouth open and Buffy still sipping daintily at her wine. "Er, once upon a time there were, er, three pigs."

Buffy frowned and Alex’s mouth dropped even further open.

"I mean bears, did I say pigs?" A nervous laugh escaped him; they didn’t look as if they believed him for one minute. He began again, trying as hard as he could to look as if he was actually reading from the book.

"Once upon a time there were three bears, and they all lived in a little house in the forest..." He looked up at their incredulous faces. "What? It’s a perfectly good story, now do you want me to continue or don’t you?"

They both nodded vigorously, so he took another breath and started yet again.

"Once upon a time a bear had three pigs and they all lived in a little wolf in the forest..."

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