Chapter 6
“Ahh, it’s a lovely night,” William said happily as he and Elizabeth strolled towards his garden. “A bit brisk, but the sky is clear and the moon is full.” Elizabeth smiled, keeping her body close to his as they walked along, her hand tucked in the crook of his arm. There was something familiar in the simple act, Elizabeth thought, as if they’d walked in the moonlight a hundred times before. There were so many strange things, slivers of memories that she couldn’t place and whenever William was around, she could almost piece them together. Perhaps it was due to her finding such comfort in his presence.
“The garden isn’t as impressive as some, but it is well groomed and full of flowers.” He turned down a dirt path, framed with a wide array of chrysanthemums, calla lilies, delphiniums and snap dragons. The aroma was fragrant and sweet in the cool fall air, though the moonlight dulled their colors, snuffed them out with whites and grays. It was strangely ethereal; beautiful in its own way. Elizabeth spotted a rose bush several yards within the garden and she smiled as an idea struck her. She hiked up her skirts and carefully stepped over a patch of stephanotis.
William’s throat ran dry, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed, overwhelmed with the sight of far too much leg than he should have been seeing before he found his voice and called out to her, “Elizabeth! You’re going to ruin your dress! Come back here!” She trudged along anyway, looking over her shoulder at him with a flirtatious smile. He sighed with mirth and followed after her, stopping a few feet away when she bent forward and plucked a rose from the bush. She turned around with it, popping off the thorns carefully and William quirked a brow as she took a thorn, licked the flat end and stuck it on the bridge of her nose as a make-shift wart. He chuckled and said, “Are you a witch, now?” She smiled and pulled off another thorn, giving it the same treatment and stuck it on his chin. “Oh, yes, thank you,” he smiled, “I was a bit jealous that I didn’t have one of my own.”
She rolled the velvety petals of her rose back and forth over her lips, smiling bashfully up at him. He looked different in the moonlight, his cheekbones were more prominent, the curve of his lip seemed deeper, fuller, and yet the moon did nothing to taint his nervous twitching, which she found incredibly endearing. Locking her eyes with his, Elizabeth brought the flower beneath her nose before inhaling its scent. She held it beneath his nose for him to do the same and his eyelashes fluttered as the aroma filled his nostrils. She moved forward a bit, watching him intensely and moved the rose to the side to trace the hard line of his cheekbone with it. William blinked slowly, relishing the gentle caress of the petals on his skin, feeling warm and slightly light headed from her close proximity. Even with a pointy thorn stuck to her nose, which was in danger of falling off at any moment, he found her beautiful. Her eyes, almost black in the moonlight stayed focused on him as she moved the rose to his other cheek, tickling his flesh with a soothing sweeping motion. Her lips parted slightly with a tiny smile and her golden hair blew gently in the breeze of the night air. She was angelic.
Who was this woman who’d completely turned his world upside down? How was it possible that she wanted to be in his company, that she would even have the notion to touch him so lovingly, even if it was with a rose? What great deed had he done to deserve her? Whatever her past, he decided that it didn’t matter. As long as they continued to share moments like these, as long as there was someone in this world who would look at him the way she was right then, nothing in the world could change his mind. He’d move heaven and earth to keep her with him, for as long as she’d allow.
She tucked the rose behind his ear and he shivered as her fingernails grazed the shell of his ear and without warning, her full lips pressed against his cheek. It lasted only a moment but in that short time, he felt tingles traveling from his cheek to his toes, his heart lurch in his chest, her warm breath waft over his face and her wonderful lilac perfume invade his senses. She pulled away before he could become lost in her touch, smiling shyly and avoiding his eyes, though if she hadn’t, she would have noticed the look of awe he’d given her, the way his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths and the quiet acceptance of what he was feeling. Instead, she stepped backwards and playfully swatted him on the arm before she bolted, running to the dirt road and out towards the trees.
He swallowed and his head turned little by little as his eyes followed her, afraid she’d regretted what she had done, only to smile with wonder when she stopped and looked at him, tilting her head with a pout and flinging her arms at her sides. She wanted him to chase her, wanted to play and he grinned widely and hopped over the flower bushes and darted after her, laughing inwardly as she bobbed and weaved through the trees. She was a fast little thing, he soon realized, but he didn’t care. He’d chase her for hours if that’s what she wanted and in spite of his drunken state, he found himself able to keep up the game she’d started. Her hair had fallen out of her combs, wildly bouncing on her back and shoulders as she ran. Her corset hindered her breathing but she kept running, kept hiding behind trees only to dash away when he drew close, smiling happily and laughing silently at his expression which mirrored her joy.
William decided he’d try another tactic and instead of running like a mad man, he’d sneak up on her. He wished that he could hear her laughter, really hear it, knowing that it must be a beautiful sound; and, it would give him some clue as to where she was hiding. He paused for a moment to tighten his dark grey breeches as they started to loosen from his frantic movements and with stealth he never knew he possessed, he quietly moved forward, his eyes darting from tree to tree in search of a clue. He smiled wickedly when he spotted a swatch of cream fabric peeking out from the side of a tree. Bending at the waist and licking his lips, he crept towards her, his heart pounding in his chest when the sounds of her frantic breathing grew louder. He was inches from her now and with a steady hand he reached forward and grabbed her arm, twirling her around to face him. Elizabeth’s mouth dropped in a silent scream and she jumped a bit as he held her still before she sighed in relief, panting, eyes twinkling in excitement.
“Got you,” he whispered, unable to bring himself to release his grasp on her arms. They both smiled, struggling to catch their breath from running for so long. Her cheeks were red, peeking out behind the long tendrils of hair that had fallen in front of her face. He delicately pushed them aside with the tips of his fingers and she leaned into his touch, her bright smile from the chase turning into something more serious. William moved without thinking, pulled forward instinctively, drew her close to him before raising both hands to cup her cheeks as he whispered, “God, forgive me,” and covered her lips with his in a tender kiss. She inhaled sharply and sank in his embrace, linking her arms around his neck as his moved down to band about her waist. Her mouth was poetry, tattooing his very soul with sonnets and ballads, writing out his destiny in a simple kiss.
Something inside him snapped; some primal urge he’d buried when he became a respectable man and his tongue darted out to trace the seam of her lips. He moaned at the taste of her and she tentatively touched the tip of her tongue to his, gasping when he accepted the gesture, slanting his mouth against hers and gripped her back. She could taste the wine in his mouth, mingling with his own personal flavor and the combination drove her mad with desire. He stumbled a bit on his feet as the kiss turned passionate, her hands diving into his hair. He moaned again, clutching her almost too hard, tilting his head the other way to suck on her bottom lip, and they broke away simultaneously to catch their breath.
William was still panting, rubbing his palms over her tiny waist in circular motions, licking his lips as he gazed into her glassy eyes and he decided he couldn’t wait for her to calm down any longer and attacked her mouth again. Perhaps it was the alcohol, perhaps he’d been possessed by the devil himself but William, for the life of him, never wanted this to end.
Elizabeth’s hands scaled down his chest, clawing at him through the thin fabric of his shirt and he hissed in pleasure, surprised by her boldness. He felt himself growing hard, painfully hard and she was pressed against him so tightly that every tiny move she made rubbed him in the most delicious way. Either by her frantic movements or his, somehow they stumbled and together they fell to the ground and William grunted as she landed unceremoniously on top of him. He laughed, too happy or too drunk to care that he’d knocked his head on something rather painful.
She smiled down at him and moved to stand but his arms held her still. “Where do you think you’re going?” Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open in a surprised smile and then she gasped when she was rolled over onto her back, looking up at a boyish grin. “Don’t worry, my lady,” he joked, “I’ll only ravish you with kisses.” She smiled against his lips as they pressed against hers and soon all humor was gone, replaced with the same urgency as before. He moved against her gently and even through her layers of clothing, she could feel the heat of him, his hard body slowly depressing into hers as his tongue and teeth worshiped her lips.
But William’s propriety was nagging at him, reprimanding his rash behavior as his tongue dipped into her sweet mouth and his hands threatened to cup something he shouldn’t, scolded him as his hips rubbed against her, tsked as he trailed a path of open mouthed kisses on her throat and admonished him when his mouth neared her heaving breasts. With a groan he rolled over and propped up his knees to hide his erection, clenching his jaw in frustration. Elizabeth was in a daze, flushed and warm, whimpering lightly and she weakly reached for him as he abruptly stopped the wonderful ministrations he was blessing her with, resting her hand atop his.
They both lay sprawled out on their backs, staring at the full moon through the branches of the trees, panting and swallowing gulps of air. Elizabeth wondered what he was thinking, if he’d regretted it, if he would run away again. She didn’t know how long they’d stayed like that, in a tableau of frustrated and exhausted lovers who somehow managed to use the canopy of stars as a means to calm down, staring up at them for answers or maybe some clarity. It was a while before he spoke but when he did, Elizabeth smiled up at the heavens from his sweet proclamation. “I have never felt anything like that in all my life,” he breathed, turning his head towards her with a reverent smile. Unable to tell him how she was feeling with words, she brushed the side of his cheek with the back of her hand and smiled at him. His hand linked with hers, bringing it to his lips for a tender kiss.
He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow and playing with her fingers with his free hand. “We should go back to the house, now. It’s late.” If it weren’t for the pouting lilt in his voice she would have protested but it was obvious he wanted to stay there as much as she did. She nodded and watched him stand, fixing her eyes on his dark brown boots and his strong thighs that flexed beneath his breeches. How had she not noticed them before? She quickly remembered that he usually wore a long coat and that now he was only in his vest and shirt. If she had any say in the matter, he’d never wear a coat again, at least not the oversized, poorly fit coats he was accustomed to wearing. Before another wave of desire overcame her, she took his hand and allowed him to help her stand upright.
Covered in dirt, leaves and grass, the two of them walked silently, hand in hand, smiling softly as they made the long trek to his estate, neither of them willing to walk any faster than a light stroll in fear that the spell would be broken. Once they arrived, William quietly opened the door, his face scrunching up nervously as it creaked. Sure that no one had heard, they tiptoed inside the now darkened home. As they began to ascend the staircase, Mary cleared her throat from behind them and William yelped, clutching his chest with heavy breaths as he turned around. “Good Lord, woman! You scared us half to death!”
“It’s nearly one in the morning, Master,” she said with narrowed eyes and tilted her head curiously.
“I am well aware of the time, thank you,” he said pompously. Elizabeth fidgeted nervously beside him.
“We were worried about you, sir,” she continued, knowing it was none of her business to pry but far too curious to let it go. She and the other housemaids had their suspicions about the two blonds, especially when he’d locked himself in his room for such a long time, only to come downstairs drunk as a sailor.
“Yes, well, Elizabeth and I took a walk in the gardens and lost track of time.”
Mary chewed on her lip, tilting her head from side to side as she studied the rumpled appearance of her master and his guest. “That must have been some walk,” she said with a quirked eyebrow. “Got bits of leaf on you, sir.”
William’s hands quickly moved to his hair, feeling the twigs and leaves that were tangled there. He blushed and Elizabeth covered her mouth as she started giggling, which he knew she was doing when her shoulders started bouncing. William was not going to let that slide however, when he leaned forward and whispered, “Don’t laugh until you take a good look at that backside of yours, Miss Elizabeth.” Her eyes grew wide and she smiled at the maid who was watching them suspiciously, hoping that her grin would save them both from any further interrogation. It was William who remembered just who the hell he was when he finally said, “Mary, what I do in my spare time is none of your business. I trust that you’ll keep to yourself from now on.” He turned towards the stairs before he added, “Miss Elizabeth and I are not to be disturbed until ten, at which point we will have our breakfast. See to it that Margo is informed of this change before you retire this evening. Good night.”
Mary looked surprised and lowered her eyes before nodding in acceptance and walking back to her quarters. William smiled in delight at his authoritative tone and escorted his lady to her room. Their hands were still entwined and they stood in the hallway, smiling at one another. “Would I be terribly selfish if I didn’t want this night to end?” She blushed and he lifted her chin with a crooked finger, giving her a warm smile. “Good night, Elizabeth,” he whispered, kissing her briefly. With a brave intake of breath, he turned on his heel and walked to his room and Elizabeth brought her fingers to her tingling lips. She smiled for the rest of the evening, smiled as she removed her dress and corset, smiled as she lay in her bed and fell asleep.
* * *
William felt like the foulest creature on the earth, a disgusting excuse of a man, an absolute deviant for what he was doing. He’d only done it once before, but he was just a boy then and hadn’t known any better. Now, he was a man, knowing full well that God was watching him as he loosened the ties of his breeches and shoved them down as he lay on his back. He’d been hard so many times before, usually from the most inane things, but never had he been this hard, this aroused, in this much pain before. The ache was going to kill him, he was sure, and that brought on his lascivious thoughts, his sinful action of stroking himself. He made sure to cover up beneath the blankets should anyone come into his bedchambers. His guilt quickly vanished, however, as he recalled what had happened that evening and his fingers trailed up and down his shaft before encircling it and pumping slowly. He thought of the taste of her, the feel of her supple body against him, the quiet gasps and moans she made when he thrust his hips against hers, the unadulterated passion she possessed, the tops of her breasts as they undulated above the bodice of her dress, her nails raking down his-
“Oh, God!” he shouted, spilling into his hand, hissing as his body tightened and thrust upwards into his palm as he quickened his movements, prolonging his pleasure for as long as he could. He licked his lips and panted, flinging his arms heavily onto the bed at his side and chuckled a bit as he closed his eyes. “Oh, Elizabeth, what have you done to me?”
* * *
London, England Present Day, two hours after the portal closed.
Giles paced the floor of the large room where the witches had been chanting for days on end. Still wearing his Victorian clothing, he waited impatiently for Willow and the others to rest up before trying to open the portal once more.
He was plagued with hundreds of possibilities, and none of them any good. Had she made it to the other side? Were her body parts intact? Was she suffering any permanent damage from the excursion? Was she in another dimension entirely? Had someone found her and done something to her? Was she all right? His anger at her impulsiveness was quickly replaced with fatherly worry and he wanted nothing more than to go to her and make sure she hadn’t been harmed in any way. So help them, if they’d done something with her, the world would pay dearly for it.
Xander had been observing the frantic pacing of the watcher for a while, eating a bag of chips casually. He knew that Buffy would pull something irrational and didn’t know what the big damn deal was, but Giles was in a rare state of emotion so he wisely kept his mouth shut.
“How long do they need to rest?” he shouted, finally turning towards the one-eyed brunet.
Xander brushed some crumbs off of his chest with a frown and then looked up at him. “They were chanting for a week, man. Might need more than a couple of hours to recharge, don’t you think?”
Rupert pursed his lips and removed his glasses to treat them with the tender caress of his handkerchief. “I’m in a state of shock, Xander, as you can imagine. This could very well damage the delicate fabric of our existence! We need that portal up and we need it up now, dammit,” he cursed, plopping down in a chair and sighing.
“Buffy’s a smart girl. I’m sure she’s fine.”
Rupert quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, yes. A smart girl, indeed. The same woman who thought GPS stood for Great Props for Spies.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “We were watching a lot of Mission: Impossible at the time.”
“I wish I had your optimism, Xander, but I have this terrible feeling that she’s in trouble. My only hope is that she doesn’t do something foolish and that I can find her once I go through the portal.”
Xander, who was in mid-chew of a potato chip, paused, darting his eyes to the ground before he started chewing again. “I think I’ve got a good idea where she might be.” He hated admitting it, but if Buffy was in trouble, if she’d already screwed up the gentle fabric or whatever Giles was talking about, then it was his duty as her friend to let him know.
Giles’ eyes widened. “Where is she?”
Xander looked at him in astonishment. “Do you just completely block out everything in her personal life or are you that stupid?” At Giles’ offended stuttering, Xander continued. “Mr. The Bloody? Ring any bells?”
“Dear Lord,” he gasped. “Why hadn’t I thought of that?”
“I don’t know, maybe because anything having to do with Buffy and vampires, you know…if it doesn’t involve staking, seems to go right over your head?”
“And you’re one to talk,” he scoffed, adjusting his ascot as he turned away.
“I got over it when he saved the world,” he said defensively and tossed his bag of chips to the side as he stood up to leave. “I’m going downstairs. If you need me, I’ll be in the control room, pretending to be a bad ass.” He waited for Giles to respond, for any reaction, but the old man seemed to be lost in thought, eyes focused on a nonexistent spot on the floor. Xander sighed and walked away.
Giles rubbed his tired eyes and his mouth formed a thin line of regret. He walked down the hallway, down the long staircase, to his room. If she’d gone to William, she’d already altered history, possibly changed everything. He opened his closet and pushed on the far back wall until there was a dull clicking noise. The wall swung forward, revealing a secret storage area and he pulled out a large trunk, opening it without any emotion, as if he were merely searching for a pair of socks. He reached inside and pulled out a heavy black velvet bag and an old leather bound book. It had to be done, and she might never forgive him for it, but the state of the world depended on this alone. With somber acceptance of what he had to do, Rupert took the items back to the portal room and packed them in his luggage, mentally preparing himself for what was to come. Suddenly, he was in no rush to wake up the witches.