Chapter 20

There is a place where dreams and reality meet. Where the edges of one blur and melt against the other, and when you’re there it’s hard to know the difference between truth and fantasy. All his life he'd felt as if he’d been stuck been stuck there, as he’d wandered aimlessly through a fog of laudanum and alcohol and loneliness. But then she’d come into his life, and he’d started to experience things that felt solid and real. He’d looked in the mirror before and had never really known who he was, but now he was beginning to find out because he could see himself in her. The way she looked at him and touched him, the way she made him feel, the things she said, they all reflected a William he’d never known existed. As he thrust his hands into his pockets and fiddled with the sheet of paper that held all the words he wanted to say to her, he looked across at the woman who would soon be his wife.

What was happening to him right now was so outside his wildest expectations, that he was having trouble finding the proper feelings to deal with it all. He felt nervous and light-headed, but that might just as well have been because he hadn’t eaten much. If Elizabeth hadn’t turned up in the music room with his lunch-time bread and cheese, then he wouldn’t have had anything at all. It was probably normal to be a nervous bridegroom, but he felt as if he was floating high above the chapel watching this surreal scene from somewhere else. William, the boy in the dark, was getting married to this enchanting woman, who sat demurely on the pew, her legs dangling, all snuggled up into his jacket against the chapel’s chilly air.

And he had to fight the urge to reach out and touch her to make sure she was real. She must be because he could see her cold breath as she exhaled, but it seemed fitting that they spend these last few moment before they did this in quiet contemplation. It was the start of a new life in which he would be forever bound to her. One day they’d make it lawful, but for now this would have to do. He ran his fingers through his newly shorn locks, still not used to the new hairstyle she’d given him, and closed his eyes. Who did he thank for this, God? Fate? Such a bizarre turn of events that brought her to him, brought him to this moment.

She was waiting for him to say something and suddenly the words he’d written sounded all wrong. She didn’t need poetry, or effulgent speeches. She needed truth, words from the heart, and that’s what he’d give her. Re-opening his eyes, he gave her a small smile and screwed up the piece of paper containing his carefully-written vows. At this her eyes went very wide, and a look of panic crossed her features.

"Don’t you...?"

"Shh, it’s alright," he raised his hand to stop her getting up. "I know what I want to say. I don’t need this. Shall I go first?"

~{~}~{~}~

There were no wedding bells, no flowers. No witnesses to what they were doing. But there were candles on every surface, lighting the room with flickering shadows that danced on the edges of her vision and made her feel that they weren’t alone. She pulled his jacket around her. He'd been right in insisting that she wear it, the chapel was unnaturally cold even during a warm summer’s night, and she wanted him to come over to her and hold her and make all the ghosts go away, but he didn’t. Instead he sat at the other end of the pew, his eyes closed, not saying a word. She wondered what he was thinking about, needed him to reassure her that they were doing the right thing, but at that moment he seemed totally lost in himself and all she could do was wait patiently for him to come back to her.

It was strange that the nearer the moment got, the more she wanted it. She wanted it so desperately, as if doing this was going to be the answer to all her problems. She knew it wouldn’t be, but William was like a haven, a place of shelter. Someone who would look after her no matter what. She loved him and wanted to be with him, but a small part of her still wanted the protection that being his wife would give her. She was suddenly very tired of being strong. Ethan hadn’t said a word to her all day, but every time they’d crossed paths he’d given her such a look that it had sent shivers down her spine, and the feeling of dread that had settled on her heart just wouldn’t go away. She was happy to be doing this with William, but Ethan was circling round her like a vulture that might swoop at any moment. Right now there just didn’t seem many places to hide.

And William looked so different with his new haircut. Older, yes, but there was something else about the shorter, softly layered style that changed him on a more subtle level. Even though he was wearing the old fashioned coat that he’d had on the night they’d met, it was like he’d stepped from the past and into the modern world at last. If anything, it made him look more handsome than before, to her anyway, and she wondered if he knew just what an effect he would have if he was out in society, dressed in the latest clothes and with his fortune behind him. How would he cope with the droves of young women that would be paraded before him, all hoping to catch a lord as husband? And why was she having these thoughts now? There was no competition, he wanted her and no one else. But then he didn’t exactly have a choice of women did he? How could he be so sure that she was the one, when he had nothing to compare her too? And would he still want her if he went into the world one day and saw all the beauties that were out there?

She clasped her hands together and mentally scolded herself for all these very unhelpful doubts that she was allowing into her mind. He loved her and wanted to marry her. She wasn’t forcing him to anything and it was right that a woman should want her husband’s protection, that’s why men were physically stronger than women. And didn’t she have everything she wanted to say to him written down on this piece of paper? It said that she loved him, and wanted to be with him and that she always would. She’d given herself to him physically and now she wanted to give him everything else.

This wasn’t a wedding like anything she had ever imagined for herself, but then, ordinary weddings were for ordinary people. She’d gone through hell to get to this and she knew William had too, so it seemed appropriate that it should just be the two of them, here in this shadowy chapel, wrapped in the intimate glow of the candlelight and whispering things that were so secret, and so private that no one but the two of them would ever know what was said.

As William opened his eyes and prepared to speak she had a terrible moment of panic as she saw him crumple the vows he’d written in his hand and put them back into his pocket.

He’d changed his mind, he didn’t want to do this any more.

But then he raised his finger to his lips to calm her and motioned her back down, when she tried to stand. This was the moment then, when she found out if he really did want her as much as he said he did. They were doing this before God, in this holy place, and even though she suspected that he wasn’t a particularly religious person, he’d been the one to insist on doing this here. Before God and all his ancestors, the silent witnesses that she’d forgotten about.

This was a time-honoured ritual, a rite of passage, a time of transition and change. William had told her that he was going to paint her portrait and hang it in the gallery and she said she’d do the same for him, so that they could take their place in history alongside all the others. This was a time of looking back and a time of looking forward. The past was all around her, she could feel them, all the Angelus women who had lived and married in this very place. Who had baptised their children here, and who were probably buried here. But it didn’t scare her as she thought perhaps it should have. Instead she felt their encouragement and support, as if they were urging her to take the happiness that they’d never had, daring her to break the curse and be happy with William.

He was waiting for her, as she sat quietly thinking all these things, as she’d waited for him. Like a knight’s vigil, they’d both needed a quiet moment of calm and contemplation before doing this. It didn’t mean that they didn’t want to, or that they were about to change their minds. It was like a last resting place on a long journey. The end was in sight so they could sit and catch their breath for a moment before they took those final, few steps that would bring them home at last.

She smiled at him to show him that she was ready to take those steps, and that all doubts were gone. And she knew that once they’d done this, there would be no going back for either of them, ever.

~{~}~{~}~

"Can you feel it Buffy? The past, the present and the future, it’s all around us, right now."

As he spoke, he saw her glance around the chapel, a look of mild alarm on her face, so he slid along the pew and took her hand. She squeezed back, seemingly grateful for the contact.

"I didn’t mean to scare you, it’s a good feeling, not a bad one. I was just thinking about this place, all life is here isn’t it? Births, marriages, deaths, they all mark the passage of time, milestones in our lives, places where we stop and take stock of things."

He stopped there and studied her expression to see whether she’d caught his meaning, and he was relieved to find her nodding back at him, her face rather serious, but she seemed in agreement.

"I understand, William, I can feel it too. We’re walking the same path that they did." She motioned towards the nameplates and dedications that lined the walls, remembrances of people long dead, but who were somehow reaching out to them across time tonight.

"What do you want of me, Buffy? Tell me what you want." He needed to know, because anything she wanted, he’d give her, if it was in his power. It was as simple as that.

She thought for a moment, frowning a little at the unexpectedness of his question, then she looked him in the eye and said very clearly, "I want you, just you William."

He too, looked straight at her, and spoke with the utmost conviction. "Then you have me, now and always. Tell me what you want me to do, if it’s in my power I’ll do anything for you."

"Would you?" Her expression turned to one of sadness at this, as if she already knew that he wouldn’t be able to give her everything she wanted. "You know I’d never ask you to do anything you couldn’t?"

"I know that Buffy, but you must give me the chance. I know difficult days are ahead, but you must let me take the risks beside you. Promise me that you’ll do that, for a marriage must be based on honesty, must it not?"

"I will try William, and I’m so happy to be doing this with you, please don’t think I’m not. But you can’t expect me to tell you everything, a woman has to have her secrets, after all."

It took a few moment for him to realise that she was gently teasing him and that her mood had lightened again. It was somewhat worrying to see your bride-to-be so serious a her own wedding. He let her continue because it seemed her turn to speak now. What he’d thought was going to be an epic speech from him had actually boiled down to something quite simple, and there seemed nothing more to add right now.

"I too want to give you everything it is in my power to give you. What do you want of me William?"

"I just want you too, but you’ve already used that answer so I’ll have to think of something else." His mood was lifting too, the nervousness being replaced by a sense of relief that they had been able to speak from the heart after all.

"I want your body, your heart and your soul, does that cover everything?"

She laughed out loud at his response and held up the sheet of paper on which she’d written her vows. "I wrote you a long and extremely pretentious poem and do you know..." She crumpled the paper in her hand as he had done to his and dropped it on the wooden bench. "You were right, this way is much better. They’re all yours William, though I fear my soul is not a pretty sight at present."

"Then you can have mine, now kiss me to show me you mean what you say."

"I do mean it, don’t have to kiss you for that."

I know, but kiss me anyway." He leaned towards her then stopped and groped in his coat pocket. "Wait, I was supposed to give you this." He brought out the ring he’d found for her, a plain gold band set with three small diamonds, and slipped it onto her finger. She hadn’t wanted to choose for herself and he’d had no idea what would fit her, so he’d chosen the only one he could find that had an open back.

"See, you can adjust it to fit your finger."

She held up her hand and admired it. "So practical, and I love it."

"Are you teasing me again?" He was never quite sure, and he felt stupid having to ask. "I’ll get you a proper one made one day."

"Yes, I’m teasing you but I do love it, and I do love you. Now, where were we?"

In response his lips descended to hers in a kiss that started sweetly enough but soon built up to something else. He pulled back, his breathing already erratic and he took her hand once more. "I think that’s our cue to start the next part of this plan."

"And that would be?"

He pulled her from the bench and into his arms. "Why the wedding night of course."

~{~}~{~}~

Elizabeth gave a loud yawn and put down the candlesticks bearing the lighted candles that she had carried up from the chapel. "Oh dear, I don’t seem to be able to keep awake."

She hadn’t even finished saying it before she started laughing. "Oh William, your face is a picture, you are so easy to tease. Did you really think I was going to be able to sleep on my wedding night? Come here." She reached up on tiptoe and hooked her arms around his neck, feeling his sliding around her back, hot breath against her hair telling her that he was close and that he had her safe for now. Wrapped in his warmth she could imagine that the world was as small as this room and that only the two of them lived in it. This had been his world for so long and it could be hers too, just for tonight.

"You’re so easy to love too." She whispered it on a kiss as she pressed her lips against his throat and lingered there, breathing him in as he tilted back his head and let her know with soft sighs and moans how much he was enjoying it.

"You too, sweet girl." His grip tightened about her and she felt herself lifted off her feet. "You’ve given me such hope, something I never would never have imagined just a few weeks back. Kiss me again, for I can never get enough of kissing you."

Their lips met once more, their kisses warm, sweet promises of what was to come. Tonight the future was guaranteed, but tomorrow it was just a blur, an indefinable thing. It was a future in which they would always be together because she would never forget him, but she’d always had so many plans for the future she thought she would have. It had already been in her mind and fully formed. The kind of house, furniture, children, and of course the husband.

As William walked them the few steps to the bed, and sat her down on it, crawling up beside her, she let those dreams of that other future slip away, and turned to face this new, slightly scarier future with him. The man beside her.

His fingers lifting her hair made her shiver as he moved it over her shoulder so that he could unbutton her dress. She turned herself slightly as he worked them open, giving him better access, moving back against him as he smoothed the gauzy material down over her shoulders. Tilting her head back to claim another slow, dreamy kiss.

And it was like a dream. Any moment now she would awaken and find herself in her own bed and the memory of Caleb and the blood and the horror would quietly recede with the dream, and she would be so relieved that that was all it was. And then she’d remember William and the rest of her life would be one long search to find him again.

The dress slipped to her waist as his soft lips tickled the back of her neck, tracing a path over her shoulder, and she twisted back round to face him so that he could continue his silent declaration of love, and worship.

"We’ll always be together, won’t we William?" Her hands crept into his pale hair as he worked his kisses across the top of her breasts. "Even if we aren’t physically together, you will be with me won’t you?"

He lifted his head, a sleepy, satisfied smile on his mouth, his blue eyes deep, and gently understanding. "I will find you if I have to cross time itself to get to you. Shall we do that Buffy? Shall we meet each other in another time, where I shall be able to go out into the light, and you will not have to wrestle these demons of yours every day?"

She gave a sigh and lay back into the quilt, reaching her arms out for him as he came over her. Arching up into another kiss. It was a promise of a future. Maybe not in this lifetime, but they would be together, she could feel it. "I’d like that, very much, and who knows, perhaps fate will be kind to us after all, and allow us some happiness?"

"Such maudlin thoughts tonight, my Elizabeth, put them out of your mind and come here." With that he rolled her over so that she was lying over him, her hair falling on either side of his head like a curtain. Gripping at her arms to hold her up, a small teasing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

She scanned his face, putting her hands down on either side of him, wondering what he was thinking, for something was on his mind. His eyes had taken on a mischievous glint as he settled himself back against the covers. Then he closed them and lay still.

"What are you doing?"

He kept his eyes closed, but the smile remained, growing broader by the second.

"Thinking of England, my love"

~{~}~{~}~

Tonight he'd promised was for her, and he was going to make sure that is was. He’d seen to his immediate needs the night before. All the pent up frustration and desire that he’d been feeling had at least found some sort of release. That wasn’t to say that he wouldn’t like to do it like that all over again, just as they had last night. It had been an experience like no other, but then so would going slowly be a different way of achieving the same goal. And he could wait, while she had her own turn at finding out how wonderful this could be.

As she wriggled down the length of him, he hoped that he could keep control of things long enough to let her do whatever she wanted. And he didn’t believe for one minute the books that stated that women felt very little during the act of making love. Her reaction to his kisses and touches were real enough, even inexperienced as he was, he could tell that much.

He felt her removing his boots, hearing them fall with a soft thud, to the floor, then she was with him once more, her hair tickling his face as she kissed him slowly and thoughtfully. Methodically working her way across his eyes, cheeks, mouth, as if she was staking a claim to each and every inch of it.

And so it was as they moved against each other. Desire building, hearts pounding, the world slipping away until there was only the slow caress of skin on skin, tenderness mingled with a fierce possession, and the exquisite sweetness of her all around him, surrounding him, claiming him. And he gave and gave, holding her as she breathed softly beside him once more.

How easy it was to fall in love.

He hadn’t been going to. Had told himself not to hold on too tightly, yet here he was clinging to her as if his life depended on it, lying as close to her as he could get, their legs tangled, hot skin glowing in the aftermath, her face buried into his neck.

And he’d taken out his heart and laid it at her feet. Risked having it shatter into a million pieces because he knew he wasn’t strong enough to cope if she ever did leave him.

It was all so urgent, so desperate right now and the closer he got to her, the more desperate it seemed to get. He’d fallen in love, but he was still falling, going deeper and deeper each moment he was with her. And he knew he’d be falling until the day he died.

~{~}~{~}~

So this was what women were not supposed to feel. The big secret that was kept from them. The thing that was considered so dreadful that one needed to think distracting thoughts of the mother country while it was happening, lest you be scarred for life. This wonderful sensation, this sense of completeness and closeness. This feeling that you were flying high above the earth. This feeling that men were allowed without restriction but for women was taboo.

And she was so fortunate that William had done nothing but encourage her, and gently lead her towards sensations that had only been hinted at before. As she lay against his warm, moist skin she wanted to do it all over again, because this was just the beginning, surely? His body had been a revelation to her, and she’d taken a great delight in learning just what it was that made him so hot and so hard, and he had returned the favour, turning her into warm honey with his hands and his mouth, telling her it was safe to abandon herself to him because he would always look after her.

"Shall we do it again, William?"

He gave a small chuckle at this and kissed the top of her head. "Give me a moment to recover, love. Can you not feel how fast my heart is beating?"

She wriggled across so that her ear was pressed to his chest. His fingers sifted through her hair as she listened.

"Because you did most of the work, all I did was lie back and enjoy it."

"I wouldn’t exactly call it work, my love and did you enjoy it this time?" His fingers stilled as he waited for her answer. "Was it good for you?" There was a note of anxiety in his voice as if he needed reassurance that he hadn’t left her behind this time.

Elizabeth propped herself onto one elbow and looked down at him, still a little self conscious at being naked in front of him, but enjoying the sensations that his appreciative gaze were causing in her. He only had to look at her for her skin to start heating up and tingling most pleasurably. She lay herself carefully back down onto the smooth skin of his chest, which she’d been pleased to see was, for the most part, healed. It was good to lie like this, it brought a closeness like she’d never felt before. A special kind of intimacy and honesty.

"I enjoyed it last time my love, but I think it will get better and better. Am I right?"

"I intend to make sure of that." His hand moved once again, pushing into the mass of her hair and letting it rain down onto her back. "You have such beautiful hair. Do all women wear their hair like this?"

"Not loose. It is not done, unless you are very young. I would usually have had it pinned up, if I was still in outside society, but that is what I like about being here, that I do not have to conform to the rules of society. And," she gave a small laugh, "I do not have to wear a corset."

"I should like to have seen you in your corset."

"Then perhaps I will show you, but only because I know you are interested in women’s fashions."

"Ahh."

"Ahh, what?"

"About the book..."

"It’s alright, William, you don’t have to discuss it now, I have a much better idea for something to do right now. How about this?"

His soft groan told her that she was being somewhat successful, but to her surprise he took hold of her roving hand and stopped her, then he slid from the bed and padded across the room, totally unconcerned at his nakedness. She watched as he gathered up his pen and ink and a sheet of paper. As an afterthought he rooted through the drawer of his desk for a book, and also brought out a small box. He carried everything back to the bed, arranging the paper on the hard cover of the book and putting the inkpot safely on the side table.

Elizabeth sat up, perplexed at his actions. Surely he wasn’t going to start writing poetry now? And then she remembered that they were supposed to be writing down what they had done so that future generations would know. She pulled the sheet up over her breasts and leaned forward.

"What shall we write?"

He slipped back into the bed and snuggled up beside her, his arm around her. "I wanted to give you a present first, here, these are for you." He handed her the small box he’d retrieved from the drawer. "Open it. You are mistress here now, they should belong to you."

"My god, William, these must be worth a fortune." She looked at him, astounded, then back to what she now knew was a jewellery box filled with what she could only guess where his mother’s pieces. "You can’t mean to give these to me?"

"And why not?" He picked up a heavy emerald necklace and held it against her chest. "Can I put this on you, I think it will match your eyes."

"William, this is too overwhelming..."

"No don’t say any more." He undid the clasp and slipped the heavy chain around her neck, then leaned back to inspect his work. "God, you're a beautiful sight, and one, I have to say, I have fantasised about often. Look at yourself in the mirror."

Her mouth was suddenly dry as she knelt up, letting the quilt fall away as she inspected herself in the large mirror that leaned against the nearby wall. "I look, I look..."

"You look like the woman of my dreams Elizabeth, Buffy." He came up behind her and slid his arms over her shoulders, letting his fingers rest lightly on the gems. "Do you know what a torment it has been imagining you like this, all sleep tumbled hair and smooth white skin, just aching for my touch and wearing nothing but these gems?"

"You have?" She brought her own hand up to cover his as he fingered the stones. "William, are you recovered yet?"

"I am more than recovered, my love." He sat himself back down and reached out for her hand. "Come, we have to do this, then I will show you just how recovered I am. How shall we word it?"

Elizabeth lay back against the pillow, not really capable of any thought save what they would be doing in just a few moments.

"You choose the words, after all you are a poet. Then read it to me."

"It should be plainly written, I think. So that future generations know exactly what we have done here tonight."

She watched him as he carefully dipped his pen in the ink-pot and gnawed on his bottom lip as he thought about it. He wrote for a few moments, stopping occasionally and staring into space as if looking for inspiration, then resumed his scribbling. Seemingly satisfied he signed it with a flourish and handed her the pen.

"Sign it too, Buffy, then we will date it. It think it is the twenty fifth day of July."

She too signed her name, weighed down suddenly with the magnitude of what they were doing, and wondering if it would ever be seen by anyone after this night.

"Read it to me William." She rested her chin on her knees as she waited, hoping that someone from the future would read it. Someone special who would understand.

"And then I want you to make love to me again."

William shifted back until he was beside her, then he placed a quick kiss onto her cheek. He lifted the paper carefully, mindful of the wet ink, muttered that someone one day would invent ink that dried straight away, and began.

I, William, Lord Angelus of Rossendale do ask future generations to bear witness to the marriage of myself to Miss Elizabeth Summers of Shell Cove, in the County of Devon, undertaken this night in the chapel here at the mansion, and before God and the spirits of my ancestors.

And what God has joined together, no man will ever break apart, for now and throughout all eternity.

Signed on this the Twenty fifth day of July, year of our lord, eighteen thirty five by

William and Elizabeth

Her sight blurred as she watched him blowing on the ink to dry it. They were bound together for all eternity, she already knew that. Had already made that choice.

He slipped the now dry paper between the pages of The Tales of Spike and the Slayer and placed it on the bedside table.

"Was it simple enough, Buffy? Do you think they will understand?"

She could only nod her head, for she was quickly choking up with tears. "Yes," she managed at last. "I think some very special people will read this, and they will hear the message that we are sending them. Now come here my love, for all I want to think about for the rest of the night, is you."

~{~}~{~}~

Chapter 21:

There are times in one’s life that can only be described as periods of quiet before a storm. Sometimes you are thankfully and blissfully unaware of what is to come but then, on looking back, you have cause to regret that you did not make the most of that time while you could.

And sometimes you know that change is coming, and that every minute is precious. Whether you can do anything to avert whatever fate has in store for you is irrelevant, what is important is how you spend that time. You can lie back, paralysed by terror into meek acceptance. Or you can fight. Or you can choose to live each moment as if it were your last because none of us really know how much happiness is going to be available to us, do we?

Elizabeth sat herself down on a bench in the herb garden, flicked back her wet hair and contemplated the many questions that turned over and over in her mind. At this moment she had neither answers nor solutions to them so it seemed easier to simply ignore it all. The events of last night, and William’s words to her had given her courage, and for now Tara hadn’t been able to find out whether Ethan knew anything about her or not.

The sun warmed her as she closed her eyes and decided that today she was going to pretend that none of it existed. Not Caleb, not Ethan, not the outside world. Today she was a fairy princess trapped in a land where the sun always shone and all she had to think about was singing and dancing and making love with her handsome prince. She opened her eyes again and squinted up at the back of the house, trying to work out which window was William’s, and wondering if he would look out to see what she was doing.

He had a spell on him, she decided. A wicked witch had cast a spell that condemned him to be forever in the dark, and only the love of a beautiful princess would break it. She smiled to herself, wondering if she should write the story down for posterity as William had done with the Tale of Spike and the Slayer. It would be a good story, one to tell their children, and only slightly more fantastic than the real story to date. The fantasy occupied her for a few more moments as she went on to contemplate what her handsome prince was actually doing as she sat, drying in the sun. <;p> She’d organised a bath for herself and William and was hoping to be able to talk Alex into using it too, for he was sorely in need of one. Tara had bustled in to perform her usual task of washing William’s back. Although Elizabeth would have been more than happy to do that for him, she knew that she couldn’t just suddenly take Tara’s place without offending her or making her feel unwanted, and she didn’t want to do that. Not when Tara was willing to be so understanding of the developments between her and William.

She had very tactfully, left the two of them alone for a good part of the morning so that they were able to enjoy the simple pleasure of waking up in the same bed. They’d talked and kissed, and touched in the quiet space between sleep and properly waking, unhurried and with nothing more pressing to do than to just be together, lazily planning their imaginary future. One that both of them knew lay tenuously in the balance, but they spoke of it anyway because there had to be hope. For without that, how could one go on?

Elizabeth had assured him that this solitary existence was no hardship as long as she was with him, for he more than compensated for the things in the outside world that she would be giving up. She wanted a girl that looked like her and a boy that looked like him, but thought that having said that, it would probably turn out to be the other way around. She never wanted to have to wear a corset again and hoped that someday he could be introduced to Dawn, who she was sure would love him.

William had confessed his secret wish that a cure might be found for his disease, although he held out little hope that it would be in his lifetime. He wasn’t sure about children because he didn’t want them to be condemned to live the life he had, and also because he knew childbearing to be such a risky undertaking. He’d expressed an ardent desire that she might wear the corset just to satisfy his curiosity in the matter and said that he looked forward to meeting Dawn, and felt sure that it would happen one day.

Tara had smiled and hugged Elizabeth warmly when she’d seen the ring, showing that at least she approved of what they were doing, and seemed to be about to support them in it. Elizabeth had been grateful for this as she had sneaked downstairs, leaving Tara to do her motherly duties while she let her hair dry in the sun.

It was not yet noon and already the day promised to be glorious. Bees droned as they went about their business and butterflies dipped in and out of the plants. The sky was a brilliant blue and in the distance the sea glittered as the sun reflected off the gently swelling waves. At one time she would have considered it an idyllic scene, but all she saw now was a place where William could not be. He would never be able to warm his face in the sun, or take a midday walk along the beach with her and she almost felt guilty for still enjoying being outside when he could not be. He had encouraged her to go and she knew that he’d never stop her, but she hadn’t missed the sadness on his face as she’d left.

She determined not to stay too long, and watched as Alex let himself in through the gate of the walled garden, the morning’s kill slung over one shoulder and a rifle slung over the other. What part could he play in her story, she wondered. The huntsman, returned from the forest? He’d make a good huntsman she decided. The dogs, two long-legged hounds of indeterminate parentage, spotted her first and ran over to her, snuffling about her skirts for treats, then both turning sharply and running back across the garden at Alex’s whistle.

Elizabeth beckoned him over and he nodded in acknowledgement as she expressed delight at his successful morning’s shooting. He sat himself down on the bench with her, dropping the string of rabbits and pigeons onto the ground and carefully placing the rifle on the bench between them. Elizabeth picked it up, surprised at the weight of it and his hand reached out to support the long barrel.

“Careful where you point that, it’s loaded. Is everyone in the ‘ouse?”

“As far as I know.” Elizabeth closed one eye and sighted along the barrel. “William is taking a bath and I thought perhaps we’d leave it out for you. You look sorely in need of one.”

Alex chuckled at this, wiping his face with the back of his spare hand. “Gun oil don’t come off too easy. Is it that bad?”

Elizabeth looked at him sideways and nodded. They both laughed at this, and she returned her attention to the gun. “So, what do I do?”

He seemed quite happy to let her play with it; guns, she knew, were a topic that he could talk incessantly about. “Pull back the hammer slowly, that’s right, now point across there.”

Elizabeth did as she was told with slightly trembling fingers, struck for the first time how much power such a small piece of metal and wood held. “I’ll cut you hair for you if you’d like me to, after your bath.”

“Can if you like, ‘ere brace it ‘ard or you’ll ‘urt your self.” He slipped his arm around her back and pulled the gun into position, fitting it snugly against her, then he leaned his chin on her shoulder and sighted a target for her. “Aim for that post over there.”

She didn’t mind the familiarity because Alex was already like a brother to her. The post took on the guise of the evil witch in her mind, and she closed one eye and aimed carefully for it as Alex steadied her.

He had an odd relationship with William, she thought. One that veered between deference and contempt, depending on what mood he was in, sometimes treating him as master and at other times telling him to go to hell and have done with it. He appeared to the casual observer as rough and uneducated, which she supposed he was, but as the weeks had passed he’d begun to show Elizabeth a side of himself that she suspected people rarely saw, or cared about. She had been a little worried that he was falling in love with her too, and perhaps he had been, but he’d never overstepped the mark, realising that she was for William, and also possibly, a little sadly, that a refined young woman would never look at someone like him in that way anyway.

As she hitched up the rifle and rested her finger against the trigger, she knew that she had a determined and trustworthy champion in Alex. Someone who would loyally stand by her right to the bitter end, if he had to, and she uttered a silent prayer of thanks for that. If they were going to stand against Ethan, then they were going to have to be united in their determination. She had no idea which way Tara would ultimately go, but it was comforting to know that William and Alex would be with her.

“Right, squeeze it gently, don’t do it sudden.” Alex stayed where he was as Elizabeth fired off the shot, both of them jerking back as she let the stock slip, and both of them laughing as the head of the scarecrow, some distance behind in the vegetable garden, jumped and then slowly toppled from its stick.

“Missed it by a mile.” Alex pushed her up and righted himself, then took the gun from her. “Could give you lessons if you like, then you could come ‘unting with me.”

Elizabeth turned a smiling face to him, unable to suppress the surge of excitement that firing off the shot had sent through her. No wonder men liked striding around with their guns slung over their shoulder, she thought. The feeling of power it gave you was intense, and thrilling. Fear and respect. These were male ambitions, surely, but Elizabeth was discovering that she could like them as well as any man. Caleb would not have been so bold with her had she been holding one of these.

She looked down at the dead game and wrinkled up her nose. “I should like to learn to shoot, but I’m not sure I could ever kill a living creature.”

“Would do if you ‘ad to. All need to eat, don’t we?”

“I suppose so.” She felt herself blushing as she spoke and wondered if she could trust him with her secret. He would understand, she already knew that, but perhaps she ought to speak to William about it first because everything she did affected him now, not only herself.

“Target shooting would be fun and I could teach you to read in return. Would you like that Alex?”

Alex picked up the game and pushed the dogs away as they snuffled around Elizabeth’s skirts. “Stand back, Meg,” he ordered, slinging the gun over his shoulder once more, and standing up. “Never took to book learning, but I suppose you could try.” He gave a small laugh as if he’d thought of something and he opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again.

Elizabeth cocked her head and nodded encouragement. “What is it Alex? You can tell me.”

“Just thinking that ‘is lordship ‘as some very interesting books I wouldn’t mind reading.”

“Are you interested in fashion and romance too then?” Perhaps if he was, then he might be a little more forthcoming on the subject than William had been? Try as she might, she had been most unsuccessful in her attempts to engage him in conversation about them.

“Kind of.”

Alex winked at her, but did not seem about to elaborate and Elizabeth let it drop. “Why do you call him that?”

“Call ‘im what?”

“His lordship. Can you not call him William?”

“Could do if I wanted.”

“I think he’d prefer it.” Elizabeth thought she ought to stop there as she hadn’t actually asked William what he liked Alex to call him. She just knew that she would prefer it if the two of them could be more friendly with each other. And Alex was turning away, looking a little as if she’d overstepped the boundaries of what he was prepared to talk about.

She thought that he was leaving then, he did in fact take several steps towards the kitchen steps, but just as she was about to call him back he stopped and turned to her. “Got any more like you at ‘ome?”

She didn’t catch his meaning at first, then she realised and nodded. “I have a sister, and I miss her greatly.”

“And she misses you, I’m guessing. What’s she like?”

He looked down as he spoke, his face reddening as he surveyed his oily, bloodstained hands. It was almost as if he already knew he would stand no chance with any female in his present state.

Elizabeth didn’t miss the gesture, and as she looked at him, she was struck for the first time how handsome he would look if he was made a little more presentable. Up till now he had almost made a virtue out of his ignorance and coarseness, but his thick brown hair only needed washing and cutting to a more modern style, and he had strong regular features and dark, soulful eyes that would have many a young girl swooning at his feet. And, she suspected, that once he realised this, unlike William, he’d be one to take full advantage.

“She will be seventeen by now, “ she told him, remembering that she’d missed Dawn’s birthday while she was away. “She’s taller than me and has long brown hair, and she’s very beautiful.”

“Would she like me?” He turned even redder as he said it, but his eyes, when he lifted them to her, held such sadness and longing that she could only have one answer for him.

She shaded her eyes against the sun’s glare and looked up at him. “I think she’d like you very much Alex, but,” she added mischievously, “she’d really want you to have that bath too.”

He broke into a broad grin at this, looking as if he was immeasurably happy at the prospect of any woman on the planet even noticing him. “Then I suppose I must,” he said as he turned to go. “Do you really think she’d like me?”

“I do Alex, I do.” And this time when she said it, she really meant it.

----------------------------------------

William stepped back from the music room window and moved quickly to the piano. It was completely normal for someone to have friends other than their spouses. He knew he couldn’t expect the whole of Buffy’s world to be centred around himself, but despite all these rational thoughts and stern lectures he’d still found himself staring just a little too hard as she’d laughed and talked with Alex. And he hadn’t been able to stop the knot of tension growing in his stomach when Alex had put his arm around her as she’d fired off the gun.

He hastily opened his music and stared at it, trying to remember just what is was supposed to sound like. Buffy would be with him in a few moments, she’d looked up at the window before rising and leaving the kitchen garden and she mustn’t see him glaring through the window at her like a jealous idiot. These were feelings he was just going to have to learn to control. If they were out in society they would have many friends and he would no doubt have to watch her being admired by a whole army of men, for who could fail to be attracted to her?

If the truth was told, he wasn’t so much jealous of Alex, but more of the fact that Alex was able to be out in the sunshine with Buffy and he was not. There were always going to be places where they could go and he would be excluded and although he’d vowed not to let it hurt, he couldn’t help it. It did. He’d told her that he never wanted to restrict her from doing things just because he could not, but it was going to be a lot harder than he’d thought it would be.

He cautioned himself to be calm as he heard footsteps approaching and the door opening, but when he saw it was her he leapt up and grabbed her around the waist and kissed her as if she hadn’t only been gone but half an hour.

She pulled back in surprise at the intensity of it, frowning a little as she tried to work out the expression on his face, but he pulled her in again and kissed her with even more determination until he heard a stifled giggle.

“Why William, anyone would think I’d been away for days, have you missed me that much?”

“I always miss you when you’re not with me. What was Alex doing?”

Damnation, he’d said it. He hadn’t meant to and now she was going to think he was spying on her.

He hastily backtracked. “Because I don’t mind if he wants to teach you to use a gun, I really don’t. You didn’t think I did, did you?”

She slipped out of the tight hold he had her in, leaning backwards but taking hold of his hands to steady herself. He nearly overbalanced as she twirled herself around, a devillish smile on her lips.

“You have nothing to worry about, William. I love Alex in a completely different way to the way I feel about you.”

“You love Alex?” His mouth was so dry he almost choked on the words. How could she love Alex, when she loved him?

“As a brother, silly. As you probably love Tara as a mother.”

She continued her twirling, her long hair flying out behind her, taking him with her and making him feel quite dizzy. When she didn’t seem about to stop he manoeuvred them both over to an armchair and threw himself into it, pulling her with him.

“I’m sorry, love.” He gave her another kiss while she was off guard and she giggled again. “I suppose I just want you all to myself, although,” he added hastily, “I know that is not possible.” He leaned back into the chair and watched her as she sat, perched on his knee and grinning at him. There was a mischievous gleam in her eye that he’d only ever seen the night she’d got drunk, and he felt sure that alcohol wasn’t responsible for it this time.

“So Buffy, are you going to tell me what is so amusing?”

She leaned towards him, her face suddenly serious. “Can you keep a secret?”

He nodded dumbly, feeling a little thrown by her answer. What on earth was she going to tell him now?

“I’m not Buffy any more.”

“You’re not?” He sat up at this and slipped an arm around her waist. “Love?”

She shook her head vigorously. “And you are not William.”

He was only just beginning to realise that she was playing a game with him. He tried to follow her, hoping he didn’t look too stupid, for he was sorely unused to conversations of this sort. Philosophy, music, he would have had no problem with subjects such as those but this kind of banter was so new to him that he didn’t know what to do.

“So, who are you then?”

“I am a fairy princess, come to rescue you.”

“And I am?”

“You are the handsome prince locked in a tower by an evil witch, of course.”

“Ahh, this is a story.” He understood now, and settled back. “So, how do you intend to rescue me?”

She wriggled against him and thought for a moment. “Well, I’m going to learn to shoot and then I’ll kill the evil witch.”

That made him laugh. “That is one I’ve never heard before. You are something of a modern girl, I think? And then what will you do?”

“Well,” she favoured him with a coy smile and leaned in very close. “Then I would take you back to my castle and make sweet love with you. Would you like that?”

“I think I might. What is it Buffy? You are in a very strange mood.”

“I know.” She sighed and raised her head. Looking into his eyes for a few moments, then kissing the end of his nose. “I just feel like I want to be a bit silly at the moment. I’m sorry if I’m confusing you, but last night was so wonderful that I just want to hold on to the feeling for as long as I can. Just for today, I am determined that we shall be happy.”

“Then you shall be, and I shall try not to be confused by it.” He wanted to say more, talk to her about these feelings, for he was feeling much the same. Indescribable happiness mingled with fearful anticipation of what was to come, in his mind. Two emotions so opposite, yet both producing the effect of making him feel even more out of tune with the world than he normally felt. He looked at her and felt pure joy at his good fortune and that was hard enough to cope with. It wasn’t something he just accepted as his due, because he’d never expected it. But now he had it, he felt he had to live every moment of it, because alongside the joy was the feeling that it was simply too good to last. She felt solid enough in his arms, but any moment now she could turn into a ghost and simply dissolve into nothing.

He blinked at her, realising that she was staring curiously at him, the smile still hovering about her lips, an unspoken question in her eyes.

“I’m alright love, nothing is going to spoil today, not even my silly jealousies.”

“Thank you.” She flung herself on him and gave him a quick squeeze, then she slid from his lap and extended her hand. “Dance with me, William.”

“I can’t.” He allowed himself to be pulled up nonetheless, letting himself be led by her mood. One of her hands slipped around his waist, the other rested lightly on his shoulder.

“Why won’t you dance with me?” She took a few steps back, pulling him with her, but even if she hadn’t been holding him he’d have gone willingly. The way she half closed her eyes, the way she moved, it drew him as sure as if she’d bound him to her.

“Because I can’t dance.”

“It’s easy, just follow me.” She counted the time as she pulled him after her, nearly overbalancing them both in her enthusiasm. “It’s a waltz, surely you play them on the piano? This caused an enormous scandal when it first became popular.”

“Oh, and why was that?” William was just about able to keep up with her, which pleased him well enough since he’d never danced before. He muttered an apology as he trod on her foot and tried to focus on her face to stop himself getting too dizzy.

“Because it involved couples holding each other in a way thought most scandalous at the time.”

And he wasn’t going to let that one go. Her coy smile told him that that was his cue to pull her in closer, so he did, unfortunately tangling both their legs in the process and pitching them into a heap onto the floor.

“Hmm.” He untangled himself from her skirts and smoothed her hair from her face as she lay giggling beneath him. “I think I like this even better. Now, come here you minx, I...”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence because at that moment the door opened and Alex appeared looking rather cleaner than he usually did, and with dripping wet hair. William stood up abruptly at the intrusion, cursing Alex under his breath for interrupting their moment. He extended his hand to Elizabeth, who didn’t seem the slightest bit embarrassed at being caught in such a compromising position. She just lay where she was, still giggling to herself, something she didn’t seem to be able to stop doing. She reached up and placed her hand in his, allowing him, to his relief, to pull her up. But then to his surprise, she walked over to Alex and stood in front of him, her arms folded.

“That was quick, so, am I to do it?”

Alex ran a hand through his hair, then shrugged his shoulders. “’Spose so.”

Elizabeth jumped up and gave him a brief hug before running out of the room, calling after her that she was going for scissors and he wasn’t to move from that spot until she came back.

He dutifully did as he was told, hands in pockets, glancing every now and then at William, letting him know that he knew full well what they’d been up to as he’d entered the room.

“She was teaching me to dance.” William had no idea why he felt the need to justify himself. It was his house and he could do what he liked, he didn’t have to ask anyone’s permission. Only that had never been quite true. The look Alex was giving him now reminded him that he had never been given the respect his position demanded, nor had he earned it, if he was honest with himself, so he had no-one to blame but himself if they treated him with contempt.

Alex said something about ‘never having heard it called that before,’ which caused William to stomp over to the piano and sit himself down at it. His hands hovered over the keys, then he turned back to Alex, who’d started whistling off key, as he had a habit of doing when he wanted to annoy someone.

“Be careful with the gun around Buffy. They’re...they’re dangerous and I’m not sure I want her messing with them.”

“You going to stop ‘er then?” Alex raised his eyebrows and looked pointedly at him. “’Cause I’d like to see you try.”

“Of course I’m not.” William slammed the music book closed and stood up again. “I just don’t want her to get hurt, that’s all.”

“Well, that’s something we ‘ave in common then. She’s safe with me.”

“She’s safe with me too.” William forced himself to stand still, clenching his fists at his sides. It was a long time since he’d had an all out fist fight with Alex. They’d been fourteen at the time and Alex had broken something of his, he couldn’t even remember what it was now, and he’d just gone storming in and punched him in the face. Ethan had come in to see what all the noise was about and they’d both earned a thrashing for it.

Alex’s gaze flicked to his fists and he gave a small laugh. “Don’t think she’d approve of us fighting.”

“I’m not going to fight you.” William felt himself colouring as he shoved his hands into his pockets, mirroring Alex’s stance. “I think you sometimes forget who I am.”

“No I don’t.” Alex shook his head and then sighed. “Just think we ought to both look out for her. Seems she’s going to need all the help she can get. Am I right?”

“Yes.” William had to concede that they both, at least, wanted the same thing in that respect. He only hoped that Alex didn’t want anything else of hers, because if he showed the slightest hint of it, then he was going to get a punch in the face.

As it was, William spent the next half an hour pretending to read his music books while Elizabeth cut Alex’s hair. There was rather too much giggling and laughter going on in their corner of the room for his liking, but he managed to keep himself calm, only looking over at them now and then. Whenever Elizabeth caught his eye she smiled warmly at him, which made him feel a little better and when she’d finished, and declared herself satisfied with her work, he grabbed her hand and dragged her, still giggling, up to his bedroom where they both finished what they’d started on the floor of the music room.

------------------------------------------------

Elizabeth stretched sleepily and stifled a yawn. She raised herself up on one elbow and looked down at William who dozed beside her, then she took a lock of hair and tickled his nose with it, watching in amusement as his face twitched and he muttered something under his breath.

This being in bed in the middle of the afternoon reminded her of her time in Virginia where the ladies would withdraw to their bedrooms to escape the heat of the day. They wouldn’t sleep of course, but would spend an hour or so laughing and telling stories, some of which she’d found rather shocking at the time. A few of her friends had admitted to having intimate relations with their fiancees, and one had boasted that she’d slept with a dashing stranger at a ball while her parents danced downstairs. Elizabeth hadn’t believed her, but she found herself missing them all, especially now that she had something to contribute to the conversation.

What would they think when she told them about this, she thought as she tickled William again. Elizabeth, for whom no man had been good enough, had actually found one who met her exacting standards. The older ladies wouldn’t approve, of course - it was altogether too strange a liaison, but the younger ones would think this most romantic. Elizabeth knew that she would if she was hearing it told to her.

She swept the lock of hair across his lips and this time he did wake up, batting it away as if it was a fly, then smiling sleepily back at her when he realised who it was.

"What time is it?"

"Late, I think." She peered over at the clock on the mantlepiece and was shocked to find that it was almost half past five. Where had the afternoon gone? "I think we'd better show our faces or Tara will be sending up a search party."

William stretched his arms, then brought them down suddenly as Elizabeth tickled his ribs. “We haven’t had much sleep these last few nights, I’m glad she didn’t disturb us.”

“Sleep? Is that all you were concerned with?”

“Of course not.” He pulled her down to him and whispered into her hair. “There were a few other interesting things.”

“Such as?”

“Well, there’s this.”

Elizabeth gave herself over to the kiss with a soft sigh. When he’d finished she didn’t feel like getting up any more, but knew that they should make an effort to do so.

“You are very talented, my lord.” She watched as William left the bed and pulled on his trousers. He walked over to the washstand looking rather pleased with himself, as he did after they’d made love, and splashed his face with water.

“In what way?” He said it in a casual voice as if he really didn’t care what his talents were, but she could tell that it would please him greatly to hear them from her.

“Well, you play the piano, you write, you have a brilliant mind and you sing, although I have yet to hear you. And your kisses make me breathless and weak, and as for this...” Her finger trailed up his arm as he returned to the bed and sat on the edge, his shirt in his hand, “I have no one to compare you with, but I already know I have no need to.”

“I’m very glad of that,” he said, slipping the shirt over his head. “But what about the rest?”

“The rest? Is there more?”

“There should be, Buffy.” He took both of her hands in his and stared at them. “Does it not bother you that I can’t shoot, or go hunting, or any of those other manly pursuits? If we were poor, then our children would starve before I could support them.”

“No they wouldn’t, because I would do it.” As soon as she’d said it, she knew it hadn’t been the right thing to say.

“But I am a man, it is my job to do those sort of things, isn’t it?”

Elizabeth pointed to her shift which lay on the floor and he handed it to her. “You really have no idea what is going on in the outside world, do you? I have read about these things in newspapers. Women and children are working unspeakable hours, in dreadful conditions in the mills and mines, and they are finding work more readily than the men because they are cheaper to employ.”

She slipped into the shift and then pulled on her frock, turning around so that he could button it up for her. “You are a Lord, William, even if you could go outside you would not have to concern yourself with earning a living, as you don’t have to now. A man of your position has other people to do the work for you, and you just enjoy the benefits. But if we were poor, I would have to work and you would have to give up your romantic notions of being the sole breadwinner.”

He tried to let go of her hands as she finished speaking, but she held him fast because he was trying to run away before she’d finished what she had to say.

“No, do not run away from me. Have you understood what I was trying to say?”

“No,” he shook his head and turned his face away. “So, I am entertaining and good at this, but of no other use?”

“What has got into you, my love? I didn’t say that. Come here, I love you exactly as you are and I don’t want you to change anything.”

Elizabeth suddenly felt at a loss how to explain how she felt about him. He looked so miserable at that moment, a complete contrast to his expression just a few minutes before, that her heart wanted to break. They had just pledged themselves to each other and spent the afternoon making love, and should have been happy. Perhaps she had forgotten just how sensitive his feelings were? Both Tara and Alex had warned her of that, and she remembered how he’d left the kitchen when she’d lectured him about Ethan beating Alex up. And now she was doing it again.

She had determined to put any gloomy thoughts of what the future held, right out of her mind today, and she had been successful up till now. Maybe it wasn’t as easy for him?

“You say it doesn’t matter Buffy, but you were impressed enough by Alex when he showed you the game.”

Ahh, so that’s what the matter was, she thought, he was still brooding about seeing her with Alex.

She took a deep breath and let go of one of his hands. Shifting back, she leaned against the headboard of the bed and pulled him over to her, patting the bed as she did so.

“Sit here with me William, we must talk about this, I think.”

He hesitated for a moment, then swung his legs up on to the bed, chewing his lip as he glanced sideways at her, and looking somewhat sheepish. As if he realised that he was being unreasonable, but couldn’t do anything about it right then.

“You know I love you,” she began, checking carefully to make sure he was listening. He seemed to be, even though he wasn’t looking at her, so she continued. “You and Alex are different people, that’s all. He is good at some things and you are good at others. If you were out in the world you would realise that everyone is different. But William,” she took him by the chin and turned his face to hers. “I’m going to need you both, you do know that don’t you?”

He nodded at this. “That’s what he said. I just feel so inadequate in this. What good is playing the piano going to do us if they come for you?”

She almost wanted to laugh when he said that, but thankfully she managed to quell the urge. The thought of him playing the piano in the face of danger was suddenly hysterically funny, but she knew the laughter would soon turn to tears if she started, and also that it would offend him greatly. She knew exactly what he was trying to say but there wasn’t anything she could do for him except reassure him that he wasn’t lacking in any way and that she trusted him, as she’d always done, to keep her safe.

“I wouldn’t have come with you if I didn’t think you could keep me safe, you know that, don’t you? And I wouldn’t have agreed to marry you if I didn’t love with everything I have.”

His eyes opened a little wider, a glint of hope in them at last.

“I know you’re worried for me, and perhaps I was foolish to want to ignore the danger, but it is just my way of coping. This is yours. See? We are both people with many fine qualities, but we have faults as well, as everyone has. Don’t try and be perfect for me, William. I love you just the way you are.”

He squeezed his eyes closed and Elizabeth waited. She knew by now that this was his way of gathering himself and that he would talk to her when he was ready. Poor thing, she thought. He has so much to learn, and he does not know how much I love him.

------------------------------------------ .

Feelings and emotions. They were so complicated. He’d spent his whole life only having to worry about how he felt. Very rarely had it crossed his mind that his sudden changes of mood might affect anyone other than himself. Even when he’d tried to kill himself, he’d only given a fleeting thought to how Tara would feel about it, and now he was behaving like a sulky child and making Buffy feel bad because of what he felt were his own shortcomings.

When he opened his eyes she was waiting for him, her eyes clouded with anxiety, and it was an uncomfortable feeling to know that he’d spoilt her happy mood. She’d been so determined to be happy today, but then it struck him that it was in his power to put things right after all. All he had to do was stop feeling so sorry for himself and start thinking about her. But when he did that, every thought was tinged with worry for the future. And she was still waiting, her breathing just a little too rapid, her hand where it still held him, gripping tightly, telling him that she was worried too and that she did need him.

And that look snapped him out of his self pitying mood faster than anything she had said. She might have talked for an hour, flattering him and telling him how wonderful he was, but she only had to look at him and he knew everything he needed to know.

He wrapped her in his arms and whispered a 'sorry' to her, greatly relieved that she returned his embrace as warmly.

“Shall I learn to shoot too then?”

She lifted her head when he said that, a half smile on her mouth.

“In the big barn, do you think Alex would teach me?”

“Of course he would, William. But you don’t have to.”

He raised his hand to silence her. “I think I do, as much for my sake as yours. But don’t expect me to do the big brave hunter. I’ll leave that to Alex.”

She giggled at that and he was relieved to hear it, and pleased with himself that he’d been able to make her.

“Does this mean you’ll come fishing with me and Alex tonight? It will be such fun, do say you’ll come.”

Handling a gun was one thing, but going out in a boat? He was already feeling seasick just thinking about it. He opened his mouth to protest, but she looked so excited at the prospect, and that little voice was still in his head reminding him that he wanted to please her now and not just himself.

“Of course I will.” He didn’t say it very convincingly, hoping that she’d hear the doubt in his voice and tell him he didn’t need to go after all, but she just hugged him again and declared that they were going to have a wonderful time, and that if they caught any fish Alex said he’d build a fire and they could cook them.

As he felt her warm body pressing into his, he realised that bravery wasn’t always measured in flamboyant heroic acts. This woman with her exquisite, fragile beauty and soft curves was the bravest of them all. She barely came up to his shoulder in height, yet he already knew that she would take on someone twice her size if she had to. Her strength wasn’t physical, it came from somewhere deep inside her. It was a part of her, and she would fight even if she knew she didn’t have a hope of winning because that’s just how she was.

She’d been right, and so had Alex. They had to stand together in this, and together they made a good team, because they were all different. Each of them brought something to the equation, each of them had a strength to offer and that’s what he should have been concentrating on. Not wasting his energy trying to measure up to what he’d misguidedly thought she wanted.

He sighed and held her, wishing that they could stay like this forever.

“I will come out in the boat with you, because it will make you happy,” he told her. “But I warn you now that I will probably be seasick.”

“No you won’t,” she replied slipping her hand in his and jumping down from the bed. “I’ll be there to hold your hand. Now come on, let’s go and see if Tara needs any help with dinner.”

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Aunt Joan’s residence, Bath

“Who is it, Johnson?”

Aunt Joan looked towards the drawing room door as the butler announced the visitor. “He says he’s just come from Devon, madam. And that you would know what it was about.”

She walked over to the window as he made his announcement, unwilling to let him see how the news had affected her. “Well don’t just stand there, show him in.”

She made her way back to her chair and sat down, arranging her skirts, and hoping that this time there would be some news. The man, still in his travelling clothes, was shown in and the butler dismissed. This was for her ears alone and she prayed that the news would be good. These last few weeks had been hell for everyone, particularly for Dawn, who had not passed a day without tears.

The man bowed respectfully and removed his hat, then sat down when she indicated him a chair.

“So, do you have anything to tell me?” She folded her hands in her lap and waited as he rummaged in one of his pockets. Glad that he at least had something to show her at last, but rather fearful of what it was.

He passed the handkerchief over to her and she inspected it carefully, but she’d know the minute he’d produced it that it was Elizabeth's, because she herself had bought it for her.

Hand embroidered, from Paris. “Yes, it’s hers. Where did you find it?”

“Young girl in the village. Said she found it on the cliff road a few days after the date you mentioned.”

“You paid her for her trouble?”

“Of course.”

Aunt Joan looked at the handkerchief with a sinking heart. The latest gossip on the Summers Affair, as it was being referred to, was that Elizabeth had been so racked with grief at Caleb’s accident, thinking him to have died, that she had thrown herself from the cliff. She crumpled the linen in her hand and felt tears pricking at the back of her eyes as she now contemplated the very real possibility that what they said was true.

But the man hadn’t finished talking. He fished again in his pocket, bringing out two sheets of paper, and handing them to her also.

She scanned the first one, wondering what it all meant, and then remembering a conversation that she’d had with Elizabeth when they’d first returned from America.

“And these witnesses swear that they saw the Ghost of Lord Angelus on his way to hell on the same night? But it is just a legend, surely?”

“They swear madam. Some heard it and some saw it. The Angelus family crest was on the coach, plain as day. Went through the village, then just disappeared according to the village drunk.”

“And Caleb is still looking for her?”

“He is madam. The reward is now up to twenty pounds. He’s mad with grief at losing her apparently.”

“Is he now.” Aunt Joan’s eyes narrowed as she peered through her spectacles at the second sheet of paper.

We are anxious to find the missing person of one Elizabeth Summers, described as small of stature and of blond hair colouring. Any information will be treated in the strictest confidence and, should this lead to her safe return, then a reward of twenty pounds will be forthcoming.

She carefully folded the paper and laid it on the table in front of her. “You’ve done well, get yourself a meal in the kitchen then Johnson will show you a room for the night. And tell him I want to see him.”

The man rose and bowed again before leaving the room.

Aunt Joan contemplated her next move as she waited for the butler, but there was really only one thing to do. Beaches needed to be scoured and enquires made along the coast for any bodies that may have recently been washed ashore. That would be a painful task, but she was hoping that it wouldn’t come to that. She already had a sneaking suspicion that she knew where young Elizabeth had been hiding these last few weeks. And if she was proved correct, then she’d been right under their noses all this time. But she had to do this discretely and carefully, because Elizabeth wouldn’t have run away as she had and put them to all this worry unless she had a very good reason.

“Ah, there you are Johnson.” The butler interrupted her thoughts as he stood, waiting for her instructions. “Fetch Miss Dawn for me, and inform Sylvia that we will be leaving for Devon in the morning. She may begin packing for the both of us.”

As he left she picked up the handkerchief once more, remembering how unusual she’d thought the design. It was most definitely Elizabeth’s, but what had she been doing on the cliff road that night so soon after Caleb’s accident? He’d slipped and injured his head apparently, but why had that made Elizabeth run away?

So many questions. She looked up as Dawn appeared, her poor little face thin and drawn with worry and she held out her arms and engulfed her in a hug.

“Have you found her, Aunt Joan?”

“I don’t know my dear, but you know I’ll keep looking, no matter what it costs.”

“But then why are we going back to Devon if you have no news?”

Aunt Joan patted her back comfortingly. “I may have some news Dawn, that is why we are leaving for Devon in the morning. There is something I need to investigate.”

Dawn raised her tear-stained face to her aunt and stared at her. “Is it good news?”

Aunt Joan nodded, hoping fervently that she was right. “I hope so my dear. I do hope so.”

tbc...

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