Chapter 17

William slept very little, the warm body snuggled against his proving far too much of a distraction for him to properly relax. Shifting positions didn’t seem to help, for every time he moved, she moved with him, wrapping her arm around his waist, her leg thrown across his and her head resting on his chest. He held her back, but even though he knew they had agreed that nothing else was going to happen that night his body didn’t seem to have been listening at all. It was crying out for a completion of the night’s activities, for the logical conclusion to the kiss.

He squeezed his eyes closed and started counting sheep but they kept turning into young ladies who laughed and gave him coquettish smiles as they skipped past him one by one, calling his name and daring him to follow. He opened his eyes again, shaking his head to clear the images and thought that this possibly hadn’t been such a good idea. Last night he’d been the one to say they should go slow, but he was beginning to suspect that being a man in this situation was a lot more difficult than he’d imagined it would be. She trusted him and had gone to sleep without a second thought, but she was drunk, so it would have been easy to persuade her otherwise. If they had started anything, neither of them would have wanted to stop, and he would now be lying here satisfied and relaxed instead of tense and frustrated.

And to make things worse, his mind was proving impossible to quieten too, as it grappled with the problem of what to do about Buffy’s predicament. He was a Lord, yet he enjoyed none of the privilege and influence that his position should have afforded him, and he was a wealthy man, but he had no money. It should have been easy for him to help her, yet even the simple task of sending Alex and Tara out to sell valuables from the house filled him with misgivings. They would probably be cheated of their value anyway as none of them had any idea how much anything was worth, and may even be accused of stealing the things and end up in trouble themselves. And the thought of going himself was even more alarming. Then there was the problem of keeping all this from Ethan. He would be bound to notice anything out of the ordinary, and who knows what the consequences of that might be?

It was all too much. William gently extracted himself from Buffy’s embrace and slipped from the bed, retrieving his boots from where he’d dropped them, then tiptoeing from the room. Before he’d got to his room he remembered the books that he’d left on the floor and the wine and brandy bottles so he put down his boots and went back to retrieve the offending articles, imagining what Tara would say if she found them there in the morning. Buffy was still snoring lightly as she slept, and didn’t seem to have noticed that he’d gone. When he’d calmed himself down, perhaps with some time spent writing, he’d go back, but he needed to make sure that he woke up in good time to avoid Tara finding him there. That would be worse than her finding the books and the alcohol, although if he was going to have a relationship with Buffy he supposed that everyone would have to find out sooner or later.

Everything was so complicated, and it seemed that at this point there was to be no in-between. In just a few weeks he’d gone from a life so boring that he wanted to die of it, to a life so full that it made his head hurt from it all. So many new experiences, and the problems that came with them. He’d always abdicated responsibility, been happy that Ethan wanted to be in charge but now it seemed that for the first time in his life he was going to have to think for himself because others depended on him.

Carrying a candle from his bedroom, he made his way down the stairs to light it at the range, then he got himself a large mug of water and made his way back to his room. He’d write everything down, then maybe an answer to the problem would present itself once he could see it all in black and white.. There had to be a solution. They just hadn’t thought of it yet.

~{~}~{~}~

The room was gently swinging from side to side. Elizabeth blinked as her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, and the odd shadows caused by the pale moonlight shining through the un-shuttered windows. She rolled onto her side, patting the mattress where she was sure William should have been, and then, finding it empty, wondered if she’d dreamed the events of last night and she hadn’t actually told him all about Caleb, or got herself drunk and been very sick. As she sat up she realised that at least the last part must have happened, for her head felt as if it was going to split in two, and her mouth felt as if she had been trying to swallow sand. She needed another drink badly so she hauled herself out of bed, clutching at the mattress as the room took another turn, and vaguely remembering William’s warning that she was going to feel much worse in the morning.

And she was sure there was something or someone in the room. If it wasn’t William, then who was it? Alex’s headless ghost flitted into her mind and, once there, refused to leave. It was silly, but she’d just seen a shadowy figure walk right in front of the bed and if it had been William, then surely he would have said something? Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to be out of the room as a feeling of panic overtook her and she practically ran to the door, looking over her shoulder the whole time as she imagined the spectre following her. She managed to close the door without making too much noise, leaning against it as she tried to calm her breathing. Then she heard a noise on the stairs.

Once you are in a state of panic and your mind has decided you are seeing ghosts then you will see them everywhere. The headless ghost was behind her and Elizabeth’s overactive imagination was fast building an image of the horrible thing that was coming up the stairs, so that when she saw it was only William carrying a candle and a mug she still couldn’t help but stifle a scream and turn to run. It took a few moments to register that it was only him, and it was the candle light that made him look so strange, by which time her legs had become so wobbly that they almost wouldn’t hold her.

"Buffy, what’s wrong?" He whispered it as he moved towards her, a look of concern on his face. "Did I scare you?"

"Me?" Elizabeth’s hand went to her chest and she attempted a small laugh, feeling more than a little foolish. "Of course not, I just wondered where you’d gone."

"I’m sorry I left you, I couldn’t sleep and I though I’d disturb you." He narrowed his eyes and peered at her. "Are you sure you’re alright? You look a little flushed."

"Do I?" Elizabeth moved closer to him, glancing nervously over her shoulder. "Are you coming back to bed?"

"I was going to do some writing. He transferred the mug to the hand that was holding the candle and held out his other arm to her. "Come here you silly thing. You were scared."

"No, I wasn't." She moved against him, letting him slip his arm around her shoulder, feeling safe once more next to his familiar warmth. "Well, alright, maybe just a little." She looked up at him anxiously. "William, I think that room is haunted after all."

He leaned in close and gave a low chuckle. "Then you’d better come with me and I’ll protect you from whatever it is." His bedroom door opened and she felt him drawing her inside, the glow of the single candle creating an intimate warmth, and he pulled her closer as she quickened her pace to keep up with him.

"I wouldn’t have left you if I’d known you were going to wake up. And you know it’s just a story, don’t you?"

She leaned against him, using him as a rock to hold on to as the room span slowly around. "Can I have some of your water?"

"Of course." He watched as she drank it, then took the mug and set it down on his desk. "Alex should never have said anything, he has such a big mouth."

"That is not fair, William, after all you did not tell the truth about Miss Abigail. But you tell a pretty tale. When are you going to show me some of your work?" She looked up as he accepted her rebuke with a small smile, and it already felt so natural to be here doing this with him, she thought. They seemed to move together as if they were made for each other, the touching, the giving and taking, flowing without awkwardness or embarrassment, and she was struck by a sudden and overwhelming need to just hold to this gift and never let it go.

Being in love wasn’t really anything like she’d imagined it would be. With Caleb it had been a passive thing. A lot of waiting , and wondering and a feeling of being so dazzled that it was impossible to know what you were really seeing.. But that was the difference between love and infatuation. You love because you do see clearly. You love because you see, and accept without question. And the object of your love didn’t have to be perfect or rich, or handsome for you to be able to do that.

As Elizabeth looked at William she couldn’t have said what it was that really drew them together. Yes, he had those external things she had always thought would be important, and was fast realising were not. Looks, money, power, they could be as intoxicating as wine to an impressionable young girl, but with William they were totally irrelevant. Willow’s words echoed in her ears when she’d told her that she’d have married Oswald had he been a pauper on the street. Now she knew exactly what she’d been trying to tell her because everything she loved about William was here in her arms. The touch, taste and smell of him. The way his chest rose and fell as her nearness made him breath a little faster. The small noises he made as she rubbed her cheek against his shirt. They could have been standing in the middle of the moors, both of them dressed in rags, or huddled together in some tiny cottage somewhere and it would have made no difference. The things she loved about him would still be there.

"So, are you going to show me any of your poetry? For that is what you write, is it not?" she teased him gently, swaying against him as he moved against her. Knowing that at that moment she had him in the palm of her hand, and that he would have willingly done anything she said.

He matched her rhythm, sliding his arms around her back, dropping them lower so she was caught up against him. "If you like. But I warn you, it’s not very good."

They were both whispering now, their world narrowing down to just the two of them and the feel of what they were doing. It would be easy to just carry on, lose themselves in each other. Slow or fast, what did it matter as long as they took the right steps along the way? And all those consequences of doing this didn’t seem to matter any more. What did it matter if she was spoiled for any other man? She would never want anyone else after this. And what would it matter if she became pregnant with his child? They would both love it and welcome it into their world.

"So, do you want to see?" He’d pulled back a little leaving her staring at him, dazed and realising how far her mind had wandered, and that her head was hurting far too much to do this now anyway.

"The poetry." His hands slid up her back to her shoulders, lightly caressing as he watched them intently. "You drive me crazy, Buffy. If we start something now, you know we won’t stop."

Elizabeth nodded, not taking her eyes off him for one moment. "I know. It’s a good thing you are so noble."

"I am aren’t I? But tell me I’m doing the right thing. You deserve better than to be taken advantage of by the lord of the manor."

"Not even if I want to be?"

"You do?" He closed his eyes momentarily, then shook his head. "God, this is so confusing. I want you so much that it hurts, yet something is stopping me and I don’t know what it is. I thought this was going to be simple, but it isn’t is it?"

"Is this why you left earlier?" Elizabeth shivered a little, as much from what he was still doing with his hands as the chilliness of the room.

He noticed and turned her towards his bed. "Get under the quilt, and warm yourself up and I’ll show you my novel."

She climbed up and wriggled herself under the comforter that smelled of him, thinking that she like this room a lot better than hers. It was darker and shabbier, and a great deal more messy with his piles of books and papers stacked everywhere. The furniture wasn’t nearly as grand, but it had a cosy, lived -in feel and of course, no ghosts, so that she felt a great deal more comfortable as she wriggled against the pillows. This was where she’d spent her first night at the mansion, wearing the dress that had been covered with Caleb’s blood, and from where she'd watched William sleeping in the rocking chair.

"Come back to bed," she called to him softly, as he rummaged about in the drawer of his desk for the book. He looked up momentarily, then found what he wanted and walked over to her. A tingle of anticipation rippled through her body as she watched him approach. It seemed somehow more fitting that she was in his bed. More as if she belonged to him, her soon - to - be - lover, if only they could get past this barrier that was holding them back. Perhaps it was that they were expecting too much too soon, after all, they’d only just kissed and in the real world there would have been a long and formal ritual of courtship and engagements and chaperones, and the only time they would have contemplated doing anything like this would have been in the marriage bed.

One step at a time, perhaps it was the best way. But what came after the touching and the first kiss? More kisses? More touching? Something else? Even though Willow had given her a full description she still felt sorely ignorant of it all, she thought as she sat up, eager to see what he’d written. It was one thing to talk about such stuff, but doing it, she suspected, was an entirely different thing. And he would be even more innocent than she was, having no experience at all of these matters. They were literally going to have to feel their way, making it up as they went. But that would be good, surely? Freedom from conventional expectations would be liberating and there would be none of the usual anxieties connected with these matters. They’d make their own rules, find out what they both wanted and liked and it would be exciting and fulfilling.

William sat down on the bed as she contemplated what she would like the next step to be. More kissing, obviously, and perhaps they could explore further that thing they were doing with their tongues? It had seemed appropriate and had been very pleasurable. And more touching. Something other than hands and faces and hair. Pleasurable as that was, Caleb had taught her that there were areas of the body that were much more sensitive and, even though she’d not enjoyed it with him after the first time, she was sure that it would be very nice to do those things with William.

All these thoughts caused her face to flush, so that he looked at her questioningly and leaned over to trail his finger across her hot cheek. She nodded at the book, piling up the pillows behind her and wondering if she’d ever be able to pluck up the courage to ask him to touch her in the way she wanted him to. She couldn’t rely on alcohol to give her courage every time. Not if it made her feel like this.

He moved in very close to her and leaned against the pillows, his thighs brushing hers and she felt his arm slide around her back.

"So, what is it about?" She tried to see, but he shielded the page with his hand.

"Before I tell you, I have to ask you a question Do you believe in love at first sight?"

She nodded slowly in answer. "I think so, after all, I knew you were someone special when I first saw you. I may not have recognised it as love, but I think that is what it was. Do you?"

"Yes." He said it with great conviction and without hesitation. "You completely overwhelmed me when I first saw you. I just wanted to take you home and never let you go. And I’m glad you feel the same." He dropped a swift kiss on the top of her head and moved his hand from the page. "Because it means you’re going to like this story."

~{~}~{~}~

"I suppose Spike is who I would have liked to have been. Someone who thumbed their nose at society, who was brave and strong and who got the beautiful maiden. All the things I wasn’t and didn’t have."

"But you got the girl, William." Buffy snugggled even closer, completely enraptured by the romantic tale of the Slayer and the Vampire. "And I can imagine you would be very brave if you needed to be, it’s not your fault that you’ve never had to face that challenge."

Until now, William thought to himself. If there was any capacity for bravery in him he had a very strong feeling that it was going to be called upon in the next few weeks. Then he would know if he had any of Spike in him. This alter ego who he fondly imagined he would have been had he not been stricken with this disease that stopped him being normal.

"Was it really love at first sight?" Elizabeth ran her finger down the page, squinting in the dim light.

"From the moment he set eyes on her in the tavern."

"But I thought you said he wanted to kill her at first?" She found the bit she was looking for and pointed it out to him. "Here, he’s watching her from behind a pillar, looking for her weaknesses."

"Ahh, but it all becomes clear when you have read the whole story. Sometimes you need to be at the end of something before you realise what the whole thing is about. Looking back can give you a very different perspective on things, do you not agree?"

"I do William. When I first saw Caleb I thought him the most wonderful person on earth, but it is such a sorry saga on reflection. So, you must tell me how this ends, do not leave me in suspense. Is the slayer Spike’s salvation?"

He gave a small chuckle and closed the book. "Now that would be telling. And like all good storytellers, I shall leave you waiting for more. Perhaps tomorrow, if you are very good."

What on earth had made him say that? It sounded very...well, he didn’t quite know how it sounded but she picked up on it immediately.

"I can be good now." The little - girl voice and the finger trailing slowly down his thigh sent such a swift message to his groin that it took him by surprise and he jumped.

"Umm...I didn’t mean." He squirmed uncomfortably as her finger made it’s way back up again, stopping her with his own hand on hers as she got dangerously close.

She was giggling as she did it, and he wondered how aware she was of exactly what she was doing to him. And if she knew what she’d encounter if she went any higher. He wasn’t anywhere as innocent as she appeared to be, even though she’d had some experiences of these matters with Caleb. He’d read about these things, seen drawings, some of which did look a little exaggerated, but at least it gave him an idea of what to expect. And it put quite a burden on him to get it right for her when they finally decided to take the plunge. Then the thought crossed his mind that maybe she did know something, perhaps women talked among themselves of these matters, and he wouldn’t come up to her expectations. Performance anxiety was not a pleasant feeling at all.

"Don’t be mean, William." She made another, unsuccessful grab at the book. "Do they live happily ever after?"

"You need to get to sleep, your head must be hurting?"

"I do, and it is, but I want to know." She folded her arms and sat up, her face set and a pout on her lips. William stared at her in fascination. He only had to lean a little closer and he could take that pouty bottom lip between his own and nibble and suck on it. the way she was sticking it out, it was almost like an invitation. Would she like that? He already knew he’d like it if she did it to him.

"I think you’re very horrid for not telling me." She shot him a glare, which appeared rather half-hearted in nature, and then reverted to wheedling her way round him again.

"I’d be very grateful."

He liked this. The promises, the building tension, the sexual banter. At least he thought it was sexual, for that is how it was affecting him. He responded in kind, feeling very powerful at that moment. She wanted something from him, something it was in his power to grant but he was going to extract a price for it.

"How grateful?"

"Very grateful." She leaned in and gave him a hopeful smile, her hand moving slowly towards the book on his lap.

"No you don’t." He stopped her again, still fixated on her lips. He was going to kiss her again tonight, he only needed to pluck up the courage to do it without the benefit of the effects of alcohol. "Be more specific."

"Well, I’d...I’d..." She stopped and though for a moment. "You could kiss me again."

"Before I read it?"

"No, do I look that foolish? First read the ending, the you can kiss me."

"But what if I read it and then you change your mind? Where would that leave me?"

"I will not change my mind." She suddenly looked most concerned. "This doesn’t have an unhappy ending does it? I couldn’t bear it if it had, especially since you and Spike are supposed to be one."

"Very clever, Buffy, but I am not telling until I get my payment." He could be just as stubborn as she could. Years of refusing Tara’s porridge had taught him that skill.

"You are very wicked William. Alright, take your kiss, but do not move my head about too much as it hurts so." She assumed a pose, her lips pursed and her eyes closed, but he did nothing. Should he really be forcing her to do this if she still felt dreadful? Surely he could wait until she felt better? But, then again, why waste this wonderful opportunity. He leaned towards her.

"Open your eyes," he murmured, his lips a mere hairs breadth away from hers. "I want you to look at me when I kiss you."

Her eyes flew open, slightly startled at his request, but they remained so as his lips brushed against hers. He took pity on her hung-over state and didn’t press her for more than that. Just a feather-light touch against her soft flesh, and a light grazing of his teeth over that bottom lip that he’d been fantasising about. It only lasted seconds, but, like the touch of her finger on his thigh, it got him so wildly excited that he had to pull back before it became too late to stop. And besides, he was cheating on the bargain. He had no intention of showing her the ending of the book. Not yet anyway. So it wouldn’t be honourable to claim the kiss he’d really wanted from her.

He had a far more interesting bit to read to her. One that would let her know the full extent of his knowledge on sexual matters. Given it was all taken from books, but she had to know and then perhaps he’d find out something about her and the things she knew. Then, at least he’d know where he stood.

And that suddenly seemed important. He didn’t know if it was a male thing, but he desperately wanted to be the more knowledgeable of the two of them in this. It had to be an issue of male pride, he supposed, and then he realised that if they were out in the world he’d have to do other things like impress her with his manliness and fight off other suitors. At least here he had no competition and he didn’t have to stand shoulder to shoulder with another man and be compared to him, and maybe found lacking. There was Alex, but he didn’t really count. Or did he? Buffy seemed to have built up a good rapport with him since she’d been here, and Alex had always been difficult to get close to and didn’t give his friendship easily.

Damnation, this jealousy was an unwanted and very uncomfortable feeling. He’d felt it when she’d told him about Caleb, and now he was being jealous of Alex? He knew there was nothing to worry about really, and that if she said she loved him, then she must mean it. There was no point in doing this half-heartedly, for what would be the point in that?

Then a thought came into his mind and it was so startling, and so sudden that he felt his hands shaking as he turned the page and the implications sunk in. It wasn’t exactly the answer to all their problems, but it might go some way towards alleviating this most pressing one. And it would make him the happiest man on earth.

So, he’d read the piece, see what reaction he got, and then be prepared to take the next step. Because he knew now that he was ready for this. It was the most certain that he’d felt about anything in the whole of his lifetime.

~{~}~{~}~

Elizabeth almost couldn’t believe what she was listening to. Her eyes had become progressively larger as William’s hypnotic voice read her the scene, and she had to confess to seeing him with new eyes as he described in very vivid detail how Spike and the Slayer had first made love. How did he know all these things? And the emotion that underlay the touching and kissing and that other thing that she didn’t even have a word for. She had heard the expression ‘making love’ and had always assumed it have been used in the context of a man paying court to a woman, but what she was hearing now brought a new meaning to the phrase. There were many ways to show someone you loved them, and this physical intimacy was just one more. She’d thought she understood this, but she hadn’t. Not until now, when she was hearing it in words, and for the first time really feeling the passion behind the act.

She looked at William with a new-found respect as he brought the scene to its conclusion, her headache suddenly forgotten as she became caught up in Spike and the Slayer climaxing in ecstasy and losing themselves in each other. She found herself swallowing hard as her mind made the logical leap from Spike to William. Spike was William, and William was Spike. They were just two facets of the same person who merged and separated, each coming to the fore when needed. So, he hadn’t needed his Spike side very much until now, but he was going to need it, and soon, if she had anything to do with it.

"Where did you learn such things?" Even as she said it she prayed inwardly that he wasn’t going to suddenly spring a parade of mistresses or encounters with ladies of dubious reputation on her, because she couldn’t bear it. William had had to contend with Caleb’s ghost, but she found herself strangely unwilling to have to do the same for him.

"From books." He was still using the low seductive pitch that his voice had dropped to as the scene had progressed. "You may have noticed that I read a lot."

"But I had no idea that such books existed." The room had suddenly become very warm. He had suddenly become very warm, and the line of his body where it pressed against hers seemed to hum and throb where it touched her.

"Oh, they exist, Buffy, Elizabeth, which do you prefer?"

"I don’t mind." She almost had to shake her head to clear the haze that was settling there. It was just as Willow had said, only more. But had she experienced the passion with Oswald that Spike and the slayer had? Would she, Buffy, experience it with William?

"Have I shocked you Buffy? Because I didn’t mean to." His fingers were drawing idle circles on her shoulder, through the thin fabric of her dress and it made her shiver not just because it felt so good, but because of what she now knew those hands were capable of. Even if he was only versed in theory up till now, she guessed he would be a fast learner, after all he’d only kissed her twice, and he’d already managed to leave her breathless and panting for more. And she did want more. How could he think to read her such things and not have her want to do them with him?

"It sounds very beautiful, you know, doing that with someone you love." She was having trouble breathing and speaking and she could hear his heart beating just a little too fast as she leaned her head against his chest, so she knew he was feeling it too.

"I think it will be very beautiful when we do." He reached his arm over the side of the bed and let the book drop, then in one fluid movement he brought it back and around her and rolled them both across the bed so that he was lying on top of her, his hands pinning hers as they rested on each side of her head. For a moment they both stared at each other and Elizabeth felt one wild moment of wonderful panic first at the suddeness of his movement, then at the realisation that he was going to kiss her again. But this time he wasn’t going to hold back or be gentlemanly about it. And she didn’t want him to.

He was squashing the breath out of her, but she didn’t care. And he was looking at her as if he could see into her very soul, but she wanted him to. Wanted him to see all the love and the need and the desire that she felt for him. Wanted to lay herself wide open to him so that he could see that she was holding nothing back, and that it was all his. Now and always.

And she was almost hysterical with the need to be as close as she could get to him arching her body into his, making him groan at the contact. She struggled to free her hands but he held them in his gentle grip so she relaxed herself as best she could, realising that he wanted to be in charge just at that moment. But he was going so maddeningly slowly that she thought she was going to scream.

His head dipped towards hers, but he didn’t immediately kiss her lips as she’d expected. Instead she felt his tongue gently tracing the line of her wrist where her pulse jerked and skittered, and she twisted her head, vainly trying to see what he was doing and to get him to kiss her mouth.

"Patience my love." He leaned his face against the side of her head and whispered it close to her ear, which he then started to nibble gently, causing her to squirm once more as his hot breath warmed her. And from there he worked his way to her mouth, leaving a line of feather-like kisses across her cheek then moving upward to give the same treatment to her eyelids while she lay beneath him, quivering with the excitement of it all. And when he finally reached her mouth she sighed with gratitude that he was there at last and she wouldn’t have to go mad with the waiting and the wanting after all.

He’d let her hands go at some point so she took the opportunity to bring them around the back of his head and anchor him firmly to her so that he couldn’t pull away. Forcing him to intensify the kiss and bringing him even closer to her.

She didn’t know that you could use your whole body in a kiss. His lips were working their frantic magic on her mouth, his tongue exploring every corner, wrapping itself around hers as they worked out for themselves how this should be done. But his hands were working a separate magic as they moved over her body, exploring the line of her hips, dipping into the curve of her waist and moving higher. He broke the kiss then, causing her to arch up towards him in an effort to claim him back, but he silenced her with a finger laid across her mouth and shifted off her slightly.

"Shh, I want to look at you."

She nodded in understanding, letting her hands drop back beside her head, letting him know that she was hiding nothing from him. And then his hand started to move once more, with agonising slowness, stopping just below the curve of her breast. Which he gazed at intently before looking at her as if asking permission to continue. She licked her lips and nodded at him, unable to speak even if she’d wanted to and her breath caught in he throat as his thumb lightly grazed the underside.

"Do you like that?"

She nodded, more vigorously this time, afraid that he’d stop his insistent caress if she didn’t show him how much she was enjoying this. And just when she thought it couldn’t get any better his head dipped toward her again, and this time his hot mouth seared a path down her neck to the tops of her breasts, which were straining against the scooped - neck of her gown. He kissed his way from one to the other leaving a heated trail, which matched the liquid heat that was building between her thighs, his hair lightly tickling as it brushed against her, and his hand still massaging gently Then he lifted his head again, biting at his bottom lip as he contemplated her.

"We were mean to be together, weren’t we?"

She managed a small "yes, always," as she gazed up at him, wondering why he’d stopped and gone so serious all of a sudden. And when she made to pull him down to her once more, wanting him to carry on eliciting those feelings, he stopped her.

"Elizabeth, Buffy, I want to say something."

"Anything, William." She brought her hand up and smoothed his hair back where it hung across his face. "What is it?" The confident seducer was gone momentarily, and shy William was back. He propped himself on an elbow and gazed down at her.

"We can’t go any further, it just wouldn’t be right."

She couldn’t stop the disappointed "oh" that escaped her lips. Why had he kissed her like that if he had no intention of following it up? She really thought he’d changed his mind when he’d attacked her so passionately, what had she done wrong?

Her head was so full of questions that she almost didn’t realise that he was still talking.

"Buffy, did you hear me? I said will you marry me. I want to do this properly and make an honest woman of you, and then I’m going to make love to you until you can’t think straight any more. What do you say?"

It took a few moments for the words to register. He still wanted her, he wanted to marry her? And she had to say yes, only she was so overwhelmed that she couldn’t say the words. All she could manage was to nod her head and pull him down to her.

"Is that a yes?" His voice was muffled as she pressed his face against her chest, and then she found her voice and once she started saying the word, she found she couldn’t stop. "Yes, yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you William." Then she released him and grinned wickedly at him. "But on one condition."

He flopped beside her and turned his head towards her. "Anything my love. God, you’ve made me so happy."

"The condition is that you mustn’t make me wait for the lovemaking." She turned her face to his. "Did you think you could do all that to me and then just stop? You have hidden talents, William and I intend to find out all about them."

"And so you shall, my love. Tomorrow I shall find you a ring and we will become formally engaged. Then I think I’d like to make love to you. Does that satisfy you?"

"Not tonight then?" she tried for a sulky look, but all that came out was a loud yawn. "Oops, sorry about that. I am suddenly so tired. I think I need to go back to sleep."

"Shall I take you back to your room?"

"No." She snuggled sleepily into the quilt, already relaxing. "Don’t like that room, want to stay here."

He leaned across and blew out the candle, then she felt him settle himself against her. "I’ll take you back before Tara wakes up then."

"Thank you William." She gave a sigh and let her eyes drift closed. "William."

"Hmm?"

"Why did you kiss me like that if you weren’t going to go any further?"

"I just wanted to make sure you’d say yes to my question, that’s all."

"I would have said yes anyway."

"I know, but it was a lot more fun that way. Shall we go to sleep?"

"Will it make tomorrow come any quicker?"

"Yes."

"Alright then, but it’s your turn tomorrow."

"My turn for what?"

"To lie back and think of England, of course."

"That thought is not going to help me sleep."

"It wasn’t supposed to. Goodnight my love." She rolled onto her side and hugged him tightly, wondering how she could possibly love him any more than she did at that moment. He’d made her the happiest woman alive and, even if it only turned out to be for a short while, she was going to be happy. Fate might catch up with them eventually, but not yet, not yet.

"So, he just woke up, did he?"

"Yeah. Just like that. One minute ‘e were dead, next minute ‘e were alive."

"And did he say anything?"

"Same thing over and over."

"And that would be?" Ethan was beginning to lose all patience with the stupid oaf. This information had already cost him enough and he was sorely tempted to take the man outside and just beat it out of him instead of paying him the shilling he’d been promised. He was only going to drink it all, then puke it up on the pavement anyway. He resisted the urge, however, and smiled pleasantly instead.

"Do continue."

"Well, then I called for the dowager duchess, ‘an told ‘er, ‘an then she fainted clean away, ‘an..."

The man gave a strangled gasp as Ethan grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and gave it a twist. He made a token struggle but he was held firm. He glanced around the pub but no-one seemed the slightest bit inclined to help him. When Ethan was conducting ‘business’ folks had a habit of keeping out of his way. And those that knew him well enough recognised his 'business' voice when they heard it.

"I find myself getting bored. And you know what happens when I’m bored, don’t you?"

The man struggled a little as Ethan loosened his hold just enough to let him respond. Then he was dragged unceremoniously from the tavern and deposited into the alley out the back.

Ethan shook his head and fished in his pocket. Maybe a little motivation was in order.

"This is one shilling." He held it up and inspected it. "Tell me something interesting and you may have it. It’s very simple really, are you getting my meaning?"

The man lying on the ground nodded vigorously, his eyes fixed on the coin that Ethan was twirling between his fingers.

"Well now Ethan. You didn’t let me finish did you? ‘E were asking for ‘er. You know, his financee woman."

Ethan flicked the coin into the air and caught it deftly. "Do you mean fiancee?"

"Yeah, that’s it. Were gonna get married ‘e were, then she tried to do ‘im in. Or so we thought. Now ‘es saying ‘twer an accident and ‘e wants ‘er back. 'Course, I ain’t 'sposed to be saying all this. Poster says she's just a missing girl. Ten pound reward ‘es offering." The man looked hopefully at Ethan. "You know where she is then?"

"Would I be telling you if I did?"

The man seemed to contemplate the stupidity of his remark for a moment, then he jumped to his feet as Ethan turned to go.

"You ain’t paid me yet. I were promised a shilling."

Ethan turned and contemplated the coin, then he pulled a single sheet of paper out of his pocket. "So, this Elizabeth Summers, who they need to find so badly, is an would-be murderess?"

"’S what we all thought. Now ‘e says she ain’t, like I said."

"But he wants her back?"

"’e do."

"Well, I think this might be worth more than ten pounds, don’t you Josh?"

Josh nodded again, his hand reaching for the coin. "Do I get my money now?"

Ethan flicked him the coin, watching disdainfully as the man scrabbled for it. "Thank you Josh. You’ve been more than helpful. Goodbye." He walked away but after a few steps he stopped and spoke without turning. "Oh, and you know what will happen if you tell anyone about our little conversation, don’t you?"

"My word, is no one going to get up this morning?"

Elizabeth tried to raise her head from the pillow, but after the events of the previous night, and the headache she’d now woken up with, all she wanted to do was sleep. She opened her eyes very slowly, blinking against the morning sunshine, and realised thankfully that she was back in her own room, although she had no recollection of William bringing her back.

Tara was leaning over her and smiling, but it turned to a slight frown when she realised that Elizabeth was still dressed and very obviously wasn’t well.

"Why, whatever is wrong, my dear?" She reached over and placed her hand on Elizabeth’s forehead, and contemplated her anxiously. "You don’t have a fever, but you do look quite dreadful, is it your monthly time? Because I used to suffer something dreadful with mine."

"No" It came out as a croak, and Elizabeth brought her hand up to cover her eyes. "I’m just feeling a little sick in my stomach, that’s all. I’m sure it will pass."

"Then I’ll make you a garlic poultice. That will sort it."

"That won’t be necessary. Tara, please, I just need to lie here a little longer and keep my head still. And would you draw the curtains, please?"

Tara folded her arms and raised an eyebrow, then she sniffed the air dramatically. "I think I know what’s wrong with you young lady, just wait until I get my hands on those lads. Did they get you drunk?"

"No, Tara, I got myself drunk." Elizabeth moved her hand from her eyes as Tara closed the curtains. "And I shall never touch alcohol again. How long does this feeling last?"

"How much did you have to drink?" Tara suddenly didn’t look quite as sympathetic as she had been, presumably because she now knew that her charge wasn’t going to be carried off suddenly by some mysterious disease.

"Not very much, some wine and some brandy, that’s all." Elizabeth wished she’d just go away. Why was she insisting on talking to her when she could plainly see that she felt dreadful?

"I shall murder them both when they wake up, fancy getting you drunk like that. No doubt they thought it quite a laugh."

"No, I asked them to let me drink with them. Please don’t say anything, I was trying to prove that women could drink as well as any man."

"We can do anything as well as any man, my sweet. It just doesn’t do to let them know, that’s all. You lie there and I shall fetch you a cup of tea. Let’s see if we can’t make you feel a little better before those two dolts wake up."

"Thank you Tara." Elizabeth knew that she sounded feeble and pathetic, and that she didn’t deserve any sympathy for her plight, but she was glad that Tara wasn’t being too disapproving. She could only imagine what her parents would say if they had found her in this state. And that, she realised, was virtually the first time she had given them any thought since her first few days at the mansion, so caught up had she become in her new life here. How were they faring in the light of the disgrace that her behaviour would have brought upon them? And Dawn? Was she still safely in Bath with Aunt Joan, or had she been dragged home to tend to her no doubt hysterical mother? She couldn’t bring herself to feel any sympathy for her father, however, having decided that after the way he’d treated her he simply didn’t deserve any. But Dawn, poor Dawn.

She lay dozing for a few more minutes, while Tara left to make her some tea, and recalled the events of the night. So much for defending the fairer sex, she’d failed miserably at that, but it had been, all in all a most amazing night. She felt a blush stealing across her cheeks when she recalled how William had kissed her and the things he’d read her in his story. Then she blushed even harder when she remembered how she’d practically begged him to do the same to her. Oh dear, what must he think of her? He’d been the one to say they should wait, while she’d pouted and cajoled to try and persuade him otherwise. What did that make her?

It made her a woman in love. That was the only reason she wanted to do those things with him. Because she loved him. It wasn’t out of curiosity, or because she was a wanton. It was because she simply couldn’t envisage ever wanting to do those things with anyone else.

And he’d asked her to marry him. Hadn’t he? In the cold light of day it suddenly seemed so improbable that she began to think she’d dreamed it. After all, no one got married after knowing someone for only two weeks. It just wasn’t done. But that’s why she was here. To escape society’s rules and conventions. And, she reminded herself, she had already done the worse thing imaginable, so sleeping with William before the ceremony was hardly anything to be ashamed of. And marrying him in such haste actually seemed more logical that waiting. Her whole world had turned upside-down in a matter of weeks. It took some adjusting to, and she was astounded at the speed at which she’d done that, but why not marry William? She was sure she loved him, and that she could never love anyone with the same intensity. If the search was over, then what did it profit anyone to carry on looking?

Tara interrupted her thoughts with a cup of tea which she deposited on the bedside table. "What am I to do you all? Alex is being sick in the garden, William is still asleep, which is most unusual and you, my dear, look like death warmed up. Come, get this down you." She helped Elizabeth to sit up and handed her the tea. Then she sat down on the side of the bed and reached over and smoothed back Elizabeth’s hair. "Poor girl, do not worry, by this afternoon you will feel right as rain."

Elizabeth sipped her tea and wondered whether she ought to tell Tara about the proposal, it wasn’t as if they were going to be able to hide it anyway. Would she approve, or would she resent her for taking William’s affections? Well, she hadn’t exactly taken William’s affections away from her, but things were already different. She’d promised to cut William’s hair today and that was a task that Tara normally undertook, so would she mind? There was only one way to find out, and besides, Elizabeth just wanted to tell some one, as if saying the words out loud somehow validated them and made them more real.

She put down her cup and pulled up her knees, wrapping her arms around them. "Tara, was it awful when Ethan got you with child?"

Tara gave her a look halfway between amusement and a frown. "Why whatever do you mean child?"

"I mean, you know, did he force you to it? Force his affections on you?"

Tara gave a chuckle and her look became pensive for a moment, as if she was remembering. Then she smiled rather wickedly. "It wasn’t like that at all. I pursued him, child. In fact he wasn’t the slightest bit interested, at first. I had to make it very plain what I wanted."

Elizabeth was somewhat taken aback by this admission. It wasn’t what she’d expected to hear at all. "Are you telling me that you didn’t mind?"

"Mind? Why should I mind? You should have seen him, Buffy, my dear, he was the most handsome man I’d ever set eyes on, and I was not such a girl. He was far more interested in the younger servants, liked them very young, as I recall, but I was very determined. Convinced myself that once I was with child he would marry me, but he never did offer. Then the Lady gave birth to William, and they asked me to stay as nurse."

"Do you still love Ethan?" Elizabeth didn’t want to offend Tara, but she couldn’t imagine anyone loving Ethan.

"A little. He’s not the easiest of men, but he had talents..." Tara seemed to suddenly realise what she was saying, and who she was saying it to. She got up and started to bustle around the room. "There I go, talking too much, as usual."

Elizabeth got to her knees. Pushing the quilt away. "No, Tara. I would like to talk to you of these things. You see, William has asked me to marry him."

Tara only stopped her tidying for a heartbeat. She stilled momentarily then she carried on rearranging things on the dressing table. "And what did you say?"

"I said yes. Tara, stop that and come and talk with me, I am sorely in need of someone to talk to."

Tara crossed the room and sat herself back on the edge of the bed. "Do you have doubts about it?"

"No." Elizabeth tried to gauge Tara’s expression. She’d expected her to be wary, maybe even resentful, but all she looked was rather sad. ""Do you not approve?"

Tara took a deep breath and sighed, then she reached for Elizabeth’s hand. She contemplated it for a moment, then she spoke. "Buffy, there is nothing I would like to see more that you and William married. It is obvious that he adores you and I think you would make him very happy." She gave a little nod at that, as if asking Elizabeth to confirm this.

"I’ve no doubt that we would be happy, I do love him Tara, even though I’ve only known him a few weeks. And I know he loves me dearly. Would he have asked me if he didn’t?"

"My dear, William never does anything unless his heart and soul is there with him. He is very passionate and idealistic, but extremely loyal. Rest assured that he would never have asked you if he didn’t mean it."

Elizabeth breathed an inward sigh at these words. She’d known it, however it was nice to hear them spoken by someone else. But Tara hadn’t finished what she was going to say. She knew that by the way she was now avoiding her eyes and picking at the edge of her apron.

"But?"

Tara looked up and shook her head.

"Tara, you must tell me if there is something on your mind. Is there a reason why I shouldn’t marry William?"

"Ethan’s not going to like it, for one."

Elizabeth sat back on her heels. "What business is it of Ethan’s, surely William can marry who he likes?"

"Don’t ask me too explain, Buffy. I just know Ethan, and he’s not going to like it."

"Then he will just have to deal with it. Tara, I intend to marry William."

"And where will the marriage take place? Have you thought of that?"

"No..." Elizabeth faltered. "You have a consecrated chapel here, do you not? We could get married there."

"And where will you post the banns? That must be done publicly, must it not?"

Elizabeth’s heart sank. Now she realised what Tara was trying to tell her. A marriage would involve a public announcement, even by special licence someone would know who they were, for they would have to put their names to it. And then they would find her, and she would go on trial and if found guilty she would hang.

Tara sat quietly as Elizabeth’s mind unravelled the problem to it’s logical conclusion, then she gathered her to her bosom. "I’m sorry Buffy, I’m so very sorry. It would be dangerous for you to reveal you whereabouts, am I right?"

Elizabeth nodded miserably against her. It just wasn’t fair, but then again, perhaps it was. Perhaps this cruel twist of fate was that punishment she’d been so sure would be coming her way. She didn’t deserve to be happily married, not after what she’d done. But she wanted to be, she wanted it so much. She raised her head and wiped at her eyes that were threatening to spill tears. "Tara, would you think it awful of me if I wanted to be with William, even if we couldn’t be married?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I feel so close to him that I don’t need anyone else to tell me it’s alright. We’ve told ourselves it’s alright, and that’s all we need. How can a piece of paper make it any more so? I’m sure God sees how much we love each other, and how can he object to us being together?"

"Calm yourself Buffy, calm yourself." Tara patted her hand again. "I am the first person to agree with you. I have considered myself married to Ethan in all but name all these years, and living as we do in isolation I have suffered no stigma for it. And even outside these walls there are many of the lower classes who never formalise their arrangements with anything other than a common agreement."

"But William is a Lord, so that would make me his..."

"Mistress, and your children bastards." Tara finished the sentence for her. "Would you mind that?

"Children?" Tara’s mind had run on much faster than Elizabeth’s had. She hadn’t even considered all this, let alone children.

"Yes, my dear. Be very sure of this Buffy, very sure."

Elizabeth didn’t hesitate for a moment as she answered. "I am, I’ve never been more sure of anything. This is what I want more than anything in the world."

"Then I give you my blessing Buffy dear, and I will speak to Ethan, much good it will do. Would you like to go and see if William is awake?"

Elizabeth engulfed Tara in an enormous hug, whispering her thanks as she held her.

Tara patted her back and sighed. "I hope you will have some time to be happy my lamb; all I’ve ever wanted is for him to be happy."

Elizabeth nodded against her. Time. She could almost feel it marching past her, and she knew that she had to grab every minute, every second, for from now on each one was too precious to waste. She squeezed Tara one last time, then jumped from the bed and ran to the door. If marriage was a coming together of two souls, then she and William were already married. Fate had brought them together, and it would probably rip them apart, but until then she was going to spend every moment with him and give him everything she had to give him.

He was sitting at his desk writing when she ran into his room. He only paused for a second, giving her a look that turned from surprise to understanding in a heartbeat, before kicking back his chair and standing, his arms held open to her. She ran into them, almost knocking him down with the sheer force of her need to be as close as possible, then she raised herself on tiptoe and pulled him down to her waiting mouth. She wanted to stay here forever doing this with him. Devouring him, giving herself to him. Both of them melting into each other. Being each other.

They spiralled round and round, neither of them holding back, kissing with a hungry intensity, that left her stunned and senseless. This was all there was. Only him, only here, only now. His lips on hers, his hands on her body and hers on his. She’d opened all the buttons of his shirt by the time she felt him lifting her on to the bed, and she fisted the material and pulled him down with her. There was no need of words, no formalities to be undertaken. He’d asked her, and she’d said yes. And that was all that mattered. That was all they needed. So how could anyone say that this was wrong?

William had been so worried about this moment , fearing that he somehow wasn’t going to come up to Buffy’s expectations when they finally made love, that he was totally taken aback by the surge of pure lust that had overtaken the both of them. She’d taken his breath away when she’d appeared and thrown herself on him. She’d wanted no arguments or excuses or explanations. She’d just wanted him. All the waiting and the longing. It all boiled down to this moment. The perfect moment.

It was exactly the right time to do this, with this woman, who he’d only kissed twice and who, right now, was consuming him with the intensity of her need. He’d written about this moment, pictured it in his head. The poetry, the flowers, the shy, virginal wife. There’d be candles and soft moonlight, sighs and whispered endearments. But instead he was here, sprawled across her, pulling up her skirts, undoing the draw-strings of her underwear with shaking fingers, while she yanked at his shirt, bruising her mouth with his kisses because he couldn’t get near enough to her, and just so desperate to be inside her that he was on the verge of losing all reason. And all the while she urged him on, calling his name over and over and telling him that he was the only man who would ever do this to her and that he must never stop doing it, because she’d never stop wanting him to.

He nearly went over the edge there and then when her fingers found the buttons of his trousers. He wanted to help her, but his own hands were busy elsewhere, roaming over her soft curves, making her moan and shudder as he took possession of her. As he moaned and shuddered when she finally freed him and took him in her hand. He went very still then as she touched him, her fingers lightly stroking, her face clouded with desire, and at that moment he was her absolute and utter slave. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t have done for her and this was all they needed to make their love complete. He loved her with his heart and he worshipped her with his body, and they were completely at one with each other.

He still had his trousers on and it wasn’t anything how he’d imagined it would be, yet how could it be more right than this? Two people who wanted nothing more than each other. All that was important was making Buffy his, taking this sweet gift that she was offering so freely. She went still too as he shifted over her, her eyes half closed, a small trusting smile on her lips.

"I think it might hurt, this first time, Buffy, love." He didn’t want to hurt her, but he knew he was going to.

"I’m ready for you, please William. " She pulled him down and whispered close to his ear. "I love you, you would never hurt me."

"Oh god, Buffy, and I love you so much." There weren’t words for how much he loved her. All he could do was show her.

It was over far too quickly, as he knew it would be. She gave a small gasp as he covered her mouth with his, kissing her with all the love he could pour into it, trying to distract her as he took her virginity and she took his. He’d wanted her to come with him, like Spike and the slayer always did, but from the moment he entered her, all he could focus on was his own need for completion. He was somewhere on the outer reaches of the universe when he found his release and as he fluttered back down to earth, he became aware of her holding him, and stroking his hair and telling him that he was the most amazing man she’d ever met, and that they were truly married now, and nothing was ever going to part them. Ever.

He was hers. Her sweet, beautiful, William. Shy, endearing, intense, passionate, he could be all those things at once, and when she’d run into his room, she hadn’t really known what she was going to do. Only that she had to be with him. It was something in his look as he’d stood that had told her this was the moment, the time to do this. You could ask a thousand questions with a look, and in reply, she’d shown him what she wanted, without words, because they’d gone beyond that.

There was more to the act of lovemaking than the consummation but that could come later. Right now all she wanted was to give this gift to William and claim him as her own, because once they’d done this he’d be hers forever, and she his.

She wasn’t surprised at the confidence with which she undid his shirt buttons. There was no hesitation because she was so sure that what they were doing was right, and as they embraced so many sensations had hit her at once that she was dizzy from them all. Hot and hard, smooth and strong, giving and taking. It was complicated, yet it was simple. Touching and overwhelming. She felt his control slipping away, but she knew it was only because she was giving him permission to let go. She’d whispered to him to take it all, and he had, offering himself to her in return, laying himself open.

And it hadn’t hurt too much. He’d almost looked guilty just then, knowing that this first time was going to hurt her, when for him it would be pure ecstacy. Willow had told her to expect that, but she’d also told her what was to come, so she’d urged him on. This first time was for him and he could make it up to her next time. This was enough for now, watching him come apart in her arms, feeling him tense above her as he caught her cry of pain in a kiss. And being there to catch him as he came back to her.

The pleasure came not from the act alone, although his hands and lips created the most wonderful sensations as they roamed over her body with such fierce possessiveness. But she suspected one could feel that pleasure alone with anyone to whom you were attracted enough. After all, she’d felt it a little with Caleb without actually being in love with him. No, there was something else happening here, she was sure of it. It was in the giving and the taking, the trust and the understanding, the unspoken agreement that all they wanted from now on was each other. It was a sense of fulfilment, and a moment of perfect clarity. It was love.

It was a gift, often dreamed of, but never truly expected, and that made it so much more precious. And he’d taken it, greedily and selfishly.

He knew he could be that. He didn’t mean to be, but he’d never had need to think of anyone else but himself before. Before this woman that was. This woman who was putting him back together with her slow caresses, cradling him in her softness. He’d tried to make it about both of them, and it had been to start with, but she’d encouraged him, and he’d gone. Lost himself in the sensations of becoming a real man at last. The fire and the passion and the heat, it had possessed him and blurred all reality, like a rebirth into a world where nothing would ever be the same again.

It was like dying and coming back to life again, and as the world once more came into sharp focus he wanted to cry with gratitude for the gift she’d given him, and with shame for the way he’d so blatantly taken it.

He tried to tell her, but she stopped him, settling him over her and soothing him as he struggled to breathe normally once more. She’d given, and she was still giving, as she always would. Next time it would be for her, he would make sure of that, but he suspected that there would always be that little bit of selfishness, that point where the sensations took control of you and you had no choice but to go with it. But he’d try. He wanted to show her just how wonderful this could be and perhaps when they’d had a little practice they’d get there together.

He felt her fingers idly fiddling with the hair on the nape of his neck, causing small ripples of sensation, that made him move against her, and exhausted as he was, he could feel it starting all over again. A slow stirring deep inside him, that made him want to roll her over and repeat the whole thing. Only slower this time, noticing and really feeling each step of the way. Making sure she was with him. Looking at her, every bit of her and burning it into his memory. It was always going to be like this, and he was never going to be satisfied because he’d never get enough of her.

Now he knew why men went mad for love, why they gave up everything, made fools of themselves, ruined themselves. And now he knew why some never dared risk this. Never gave their hearts. Because once you had, you were lost. Your heart was quite literally in someone else’s hands and you could do nothing but trust them to take great care if it. For it was so easy to break.

"Are you alright, William?"

She interrupted his thoughts and he gave a long sigh and looked at her, unable to disguise the small smile of satisfaction that insisted on planting itself on his mouth despite the feeling that perhaps it was not the most appropriate thing to be doing right now.

"I'm more than alright, Buffy. I’m feeling quite literally on top of the world. I want to wrestle giants, and climb mountains and scream very loudly from the top of them."

"Then I have driven you mad."

He kissed her, rolled away from her and flung his arms wide across the bed. "That you have." Then, without looking at her he asked, "How was it for you?"

"It was," she moved towards him, and on an impulse he caught hold of her and lifted her over him so that she was sitting on top of him. "The most wonderful experience of my life," she giggled and flopped forward.

"Ouch." He lifted her and adjusted her position. "That part of me is a little sensitive right now. Did I hurt you?"

"Only a little, but do not look like that William. I don’t know why it has to hurt a woman and not a man, perhaps we are still paying for the sins of Eve. But it is not your fault. It was exactly how I wanted it to be." She lay down on him and snuggled into his neck. "It was perfect."

"No, it wasn’t." He kissed the top of her forehead and stared up at the ceiling. "But it will be. I took my pleasure of you most selfishly, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise."

"I like the sound of that. And, you must not think that I minded. I loved seeing you in my power like that, and we can learn this together, can we not?"

"I was in your power, you know. You could have done anything with me, and I wouldn’t have stopped you."

"I love you William."

"And I you, I can’t wait until we’re married. Wasn’t I supposed to give you a ring before we did this?" He lifted her hand and contemplated the finger upon which the ring would go. "I have some of my mother’s jewellery that Tara hid from Ethan, you must choose something from it today."

"Oh." Suddenly she looked terribly sad. The moment of playful banter changing to one of seriousness and apprehension.

William raised himself on one elbow and looked down at her. She was avoiding his gaze, and he could have sworn that her lip was trembling.

"Whatever is wrong?" His heart sank and his earlier thoughts about how selfish he’d felt while he was making love to her came crashing back. "Was it something I said, or did? Look at me love."

"No, William, of course not. I’ve just remembered what Tara and I were talking about before I came in here." She looked genuinely stricken as she spoke, and he watched in dismay as her eyes became bright with tears.. "I fear we cannot get married after all, but you still want me don’t you? We don’t need a wedding to be together do we?"

She’d flung herself onto him so hard that he was having trouble peeling her off. But he needed to see her face. Needed to understand what she was telling him, because it didn’t make sense."

"Don’t you want to marry me any more?" His heart was starting that slow painful beating that only happens when you are filled with dread. "Please don’t say you’ve changed your mind, Buffy, because I couldn’t bear it. What did Tara say to make you so unhappy?"

Elizabeth sat up and wiped her eyes, her skirts bunched around her thighs. "I fear I’m a little sticky."

William jumped from the bed at this and walked over to the washstand, hitching up his trousers as he went. She watched as he cleaned himself up, then rinsed out the washcloth and brought it to her along with a towel. She took it, and hesitated for a moment, suddenly feeling shy of doing this in front of him. It didn’t make sense, since she’d been so intimate with him, but she supposed that this too would come with time. He was very gentlemanly and turned around as she too cleaned herself up and looked around for her underwear. As she wriggled into it he turned back once again, and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Tell me what Tara said. Did she upset you?"

"No, you must not blame her." Elizabeth shuffled across until she was seated next to him, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. She reached for his hand as she worked out how to say this. "She merely pointed out the impracticalities of us getting married."

"But why?" He shook his head. "I knew this was too good to be true."

Now it looked as if he was going to cry. Elizabeth gave his hand a squeeze and leaned her head on his shoulder. "It would have to be made public, and that would be bad for me, wouldn’t it?"

He simply stared at her as the implication of what she had said sunk in.

"Oh."

She saw the disappointment plainly written on his face. "But that doesn’t mean we can’t be together, does it? I already consider myself married to you William, I don’t need a parson or a piece of paper to validate it."

He squeezed her hand and gave her a half-smile. "I feel closer to you than I’ve ever felt with anyone. I just wanted to make it official, that’s all. Perhaps when this mess with Caleb is sorted?"

"Yes...who is that?" she heard footsteps, then a light tapping at the door.

"William, Buffy, are you in there? I need to talk to you."

It was Tara’s voice, and it made both of them jump guiltily from the bed. William combed back his hair with his fingers as Elizabeth smoothed down her skirts. Then he walked over to the door and opened it a little.

"Ethan is returned." Tara looked past him at Elizabeth and gave her a knowing nod. "It wouldn’t do for him to find you in here together." She held out her hand as she would to a child and beckoned Elizabeth over. "Come, I think it best that I talk to him before he knows about this."

As she walked across the room, Elizabeth glanced at William, who at this moment seemed at a total loss as to what to do. She wanted to take him in her arms and hold him and tell him that everything was going to be alright, but Tara already had her hand and was urging her out. All she managed was to brush her fingers against his as she was ushered from the room. She knew she needed to talk with William further on this because she wasn’t sure whether she’d got her message across that she still did want him, despite not being able to formalise their arrangement in a conventional manner.

And they’d just made love. It didn’t seem right that she had to leave him so soon after such a profound experience. They should be lying comfortably in each other’s arms, talking and reassuring each other, perhaps doing it again, nice and slow as he’d promised her. He’d told her he was going to make love to her until she couldn’t think straight, and she’d said was going to make him lie back and think of England.

But he was alone in his room, probably brooding over what she’d said, and she was starting to think of the implications of Ethan’s return. He’d been gone for two days now and who knows what he’d been up to. William had told her that there was more to Ethan than met the eye and after their little encounter at the bottom of the attic stairs, she could well believe it. What she’d done would have caused quite a scandal in the outside world, and it quite probably be would be common knowledge by now. Suddenly her headache came back full - force. It was just too much to cope with all at once. She just wanted to be with William, it wasn’t too much to ask, surely? But perhaps it was? She had to make do with Tara’s shoulder as the tears fell. Tara didn’t question why she was crying, just held her in an understanding hug and patted her on the back, muttering soothing phrases that were meant to reassure, but only made her feel worse.

It wasn’t all going to be alright, and there wasn’t going to be a happy ending. She’d not only ruined her own family, her pathetic attempt to be her own woman was going to bring misery and sorrow to more people that she loved.

"I don’t want to hurt him, Tara, I love him so much." She buried her head in Tara’s blouse, "but I think I’m going to. What’s Ethan going to do? He will find out about me, won’t he?"

"If there’s anything to find out, yes he will." Tara lifted Elizabeth’s head and looked at her hopefully. "But he may yet keep it to himself. Let us not think the worse, before he says anything."

She brought out a linen square and offered it to Elizabeth, who wiped at her eyes. "I do not think he will want me in the house when he finds out what I have done."

Tara, thankfully, didn’t ask her to expand on that. Instead she combed back Elizabeth’s hair with her fingers, then stroked her cheek. "You poor girl, this must be a terrible burden for you to carry. Go back to William I think you have need to talk with him. I will distract Ethan for a while, but it cannot be for too long. I will try and find out where he has been, will that help you?"

"Yes, it will, and thank you Tara." Elizabeth gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and turned and ran back to William’s room. They did need to talk. They were adults now and they needed to solve their own problems in an adult manner. Nobody was going to do it for them, the responsibility was theirs alone. Perhaps it would be better for everyone if she left, but would William let her go? Would she be able to leave him? She didn’t want to, she already knew that, but what she wanted wasn’t the issue any more.

She slowed down as she reached his door and reached for the handle. Poor William. She only wanted to make him happy, but she had a horrible sinking feeling that she was going to bring him nothing but misery. She opened the door and let herself in, surprised to see that he was again bent over his desk writing. He looked up briefly as she entered, beckoned her over, then he turned back to his work. She walked across the room and stood behind him, sliding her hands over his shoulders and around his neck. She leaned her head on her arm where it was resting on his shoulder and whispered to him.

"Today I’m going to cut your hair. Can I do that for you?"

"Of course you can, my love." He stopped what he was doing momentarily and leaned his head back against hers. "I’d like that."

"What are you writing?" She pointed at the sheet of paper, "can I see?"

"It isn’t finished yet, but you can tell me if I’ve got the words right. Come here."

He pulled her round and into his lap, then he lifted the sheet so that she could see it. "Be careful, the ink is still wet. Have I got it right?"

She read the words,

'I William, Lord Angelus, do take thee Elizabeth Summers to be my lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold...’

"I’m not quite sure how it goes, I only know what I’ve read in books. Have I got it right so far?"

Wedding vows. He was writing wedding vows for them. Her eyes misted up with yet more tears. "Yes, I think it is correct so far, but William..."

He stopped her with a kiss that left her weak and breathless. It was a kiss that told her he wasn’t going to listen to any of her arguments or objections. They were going to do this.

"You were right Buffy, we don’t need anyone else to tell us whether we can be married or not. We just need to tell ourselves, and it will be so. God will be our witness and then you’ll be my wife, and I’ll be your husband. We’ll do it tonight, and we’ll say all the proper words, and I will give you a ring. And we’ll write it down somewhere, so future generations will know what we’ve done. What do you say?"

He looked so open and vulnerable just then as he waited for her answer. And so young, just as she felt at that moment. Making love might physically turn you into a man or a woman, but it was experiences like these that really made you grow up. It was taking responsibility for your actions and making decisions, and that’s what he was doing. It was the best they could hope for right now, and she was going to take it, the devil be damned. He could have her later. Whoever’s hands the rest of their lives lay in, this was in theirs.

As she kissed him back and whispered yes against his lips, she felt his arms come around her and pull her in.

"Tell me the rest of the words." He said it between kisses, because right now they couldn’t stop kissing each other. She wanted him in every way possible, as a husband, as a lover and as a friend.

Pulling out of the kiss, she lifted the pen and gave it to him, remembering that Tara had told her to be quick. "If we cannot remember the words, then we shall make them up to suit ourselves. That will be even better, do you not think?"

The look he gave her was pure adoration. "You are a most remarkable woman, ElizaBuffy Summers."

She giggled at this and leaned her forehead against his chest briefly. "And you are a treasure, my lord. Hidden away all these years, waiting only for me."

William leaned across his desk and dipped the pen in the ink-pot. "It has been a long wait, my love, but well worth it. Come what shall I write?"

"Surprise me." She leaned her face against his chest once more so that she couldn’t see what he was writing, knowing that she would have to leave him soon and go and see what Tara had found out. Then she’d write some vows of her own. But they weren’t going to be conventional ones, because this was hardly a conventional wedding. She’d write something that really told him how she felt, something that would show him just how much she loved him.

Then she’d marry him, and whatever happened, she’d consider herself his wife until the day she died.

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