Three - Comfortable

It was snowing when Elizabeth arose. She climbed from her bed and slung her cream-white dressing gown over her shift, then walked over to her vanity, her hair unbound, and picked up her hairbrush. She'd lifted the brush halfway to her head when a knock sounded at the door. The hairbrush was replaced on the vanity.

"Come in," she croaked, her voice hoarse from disuse. She cleared her throat. "Come in." She looked expectantly at the door, which opened several inches.

Tara poked her head into the room. "Good morning, milady," she said. "Lord William wishes for you to join him below while we move your things."

Elizabeth nodded. "Tell him I will be downstairs shortly," she requested.

Tara left the room and Elizabeth plucked up a large barrette, fastening her hair into a loose bun. She then opened her closets, producing her favorite gown. It was a dark blue confection, specially tailored so she wouldn't have to wear the constricting whalebone of a corset. She slipped it over her head, tying the simple lacing that tightened the front of it, then plucked a matching pair of slippers from the bottom of the closet and put them on. Her feet padded whisper-quiet down the wooden floor of the corridor as she made her way to the main staircase.

When she entered the parlor a few moments later, William stood. His eyes immediately fell on the gown that hugged not the hard lines of corsetting, but soft curves. He glanced at Elizabeth's face, half-expecting to see the previous animosity or sadness clear in her eyes. He was nearly floored by the amicable shine he saw.

"Good morning, Lord William," she said quietly.

He smiled sincerely. "Good morning, Elizabeth."

There was that accursed little shiver again, tingling up her spine at the sound of her name. Elizabeth tightened her jaw for a brief moment, then relaxed. "I trust you slept well?" she asked, covering up her reaction to his voice.

"Yes, quite," he replied. "And you?"

Her nod of assent was a blatant lie. She'd lain in bed staring at the moonlit ceiling for hours after he'd left her room, her mind replaying the moment of their brief kiss over and over. Only a bit of cold cream she'd daubed beneath her eyes the night before prevented her weariness from showing. "Yes, thank you."

"Last night was certainly entertaining," he mused, remembering the incident with the hairbrush. His train of thought took an abrupt turn as he realized she'd probably not had breakfast. "Have you eaten?" William asked.

"No," Elizabeth said. "Tara told me you wished for me to join you."

"Then I will have Margaret prepare something," he declared. "What would you like?"

"Truly, I do not need much in the mornings. An egg would suffice, but you do not need to give the cook any trouble for me."

"Nonsense," he said, grasping her hand firmly. "Margaret loves it when people visit the kitchen." Elizabeth had but a moment to glance at their joined hands in surprise before he tugged her out the door and down the hallway toward the kitchen. He requested breakfast of Margaret, and then they were off again.

His fingers laced through hers as they continued on their trek down the corridor. "Is there... why are you holding my hand?" Elizabeth asked, slightly winded as she kept up with his long strides.

William slowed his pace, then stopped altogether, turning and tucking a blonde strand behind her ear. "I want you to become familiar with the sensation of my hands on you," he replied slowly, his eyes on hers. His voice had taken on a husky edge, the tone deep and resonant. The intensity of his gaze weakened Elizabeth and she glanced away. "I intend to touch you frequently." As if to prove this, he trailed one hand down her cheek, resting his fingers possessively over her collarbone. His other hand released hers, tilting her face up toward his. "I like your gown," he whispered. His mouth slanted over hers.

At first Elizabeth was too shocked to do anything besides stand against the wall and allow herself to be kissed, but she soon found herself responding to his amorous advances with an innocent fervor that drew a deep, rumbling groan from him. Her hands came up, tangling in his hair.

She felt a new wetness brushing over her lower lip pleasantly, and she opened her mouth in the hopes of the sensation continuing. A small gasp escaped from her throat into his as William's tongue brushed against her own.

A vision of pale skin and dark eyes flashed through his mind and William tore his mouth away from Elizabeth's, staggering back a few steps. He was breathing hard, his eyes wild as memories of Drusilla assailed him.

"Lord William, what is it?" Elizabeth asked, truly concerned. "What's the matter?"

My William..

His kiss-swollen lower lip trembled slightly.

I love you, my William...

"I..." he began.

You'll never leave me, will you, my William?

"I can't..." He broke into a run, turning a corner and disappearing from Elizabeth's line of sight.

~*~*~*~*~

"I will not ask," Elizabeth muttered sternly under her breath as she left the kitchen, on her way to the west wing. "I will not ask. I will not a - oomph! Oh, I'm terribly sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going..." She dusted herself off, straightened her gown, and looked up into a pair of amused, chocolate-brown eyes.

"You must be the lovely young thing m'cousin Willie's to be marryin'. I can see why he chose ye." The man before her offered a hand. "M'name's Angelus. Liam Angelus."

Elizabeth slid her hand into his, blushing slightly when he kissed it. He made no move to release her. "I am Elizabeth," she said, tugging her hand from his grasp. "I am to marry Lord William."

"An' I can tell ye right now, there's no need for th' formalities with 'im. Willie doesn't like it."

"I would rather," she said as she pulled her hand from his grasp, "that Willie tell me these things himself. But I thank you for the advice."

"Spirited one, aren't you?" Liam asked, chuckling. "He picks 'em well."

She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I thank you," she said curtly. "But I must be go - "

"Surely you can make some time for a cousin," Liam said, stepping toward her. He looked as if intent on devouring her whole, and Elizabeth didn't like that one bit.

She sidestepped the assertive Irishman. "It is good to meet you," she called over her shoulder as she fled to the west wing, where servants had just recently finished moving her things into a room that was directly connected with the master bedroom. The room was decorated in white and lavender, which she noticed contrasted sharply with the reds and mahoganies that dominated the adjoining bedroom.

Someone had set a vase of dried flowers next to her window. She inhaled the concentrated sweetness of them, reaching out and fingering a brittle, leathery-soft rosepetal absently.

"Do you like them?"

Elizabeth didn't turn around. Instead, she smiled softly, her fingertips brushing over the flower petals once more. "Yes, very much. Thank you," she said.

William approached, standing next to her and gazing out onto the snow-covered grounds. "They come from the gardens," he said. "We shall have to cut some fresh when they bloom."

"It must be beautiful," she mused.

William turned, gazing openly at her. "It is," he replied. He blinked, wondering when he'd begun waxing poetic. "You will like it."

"Tell me about the manor in the summer," Elizabeth implored.

His gaze fell on the snowfield below again. "In the front, roses grow along the outer wall and down by the gates. They bloom in red, yellow, and the softest pink imaginable, the colors chosen by my mother." He pointed out the window toward a long, wooden building. "We planted wildflowers near the stables, and when my cousins' children come in the summer they run through the field of flowers."

"It comes alive in the summer, doesn't it?"

"Yes," William said. "The winter is the loneliest time at the manor. We rarely have guests, and the cold seeps into your bones at night if you're unlucky enough to sleep alone."

"You could have guests," Elizabeth pointed out. "You have a wonderful skating pond, why not have an outing and invite everyone to bring their ice skates?"

"I hadn't thought of that," he admitted. "But you're absolutely right. Why not get some use out of that pond?"

"I always knew there was a reason that my parents called me their brightest child," Elizabeth said with a smile. It soon faded, though, when she remembered what exactly she hadn't wanted to ask about, and when she realized that she very much did want to ask. She turned toward him. "Lord William," she began warily. "About what happened earlier, I - "

He shushed her. "I'm sorry," he said, "for what happened. It won't happen again."

I hope he doesn't mean he shan't kiss me again, she thought. "It's alright," she said with infinite gentleness. "All this - " she broke off, gesticulating carefully about her, " - all this is new to me to as well."

He offered a small, crooked smile. "It confuses me," he said quietly.

"What does?" Elizabeth asked.

"I wanted a bride to produce an heir, a bride I could cast aside but take care of financially once my son was born. But I find..." he swallowed. "I find I do not wish to cast you aside."

"Nor would I permit you to," Elizabeth half-joked. "You'll find that I'm not easily ignored."

"No," William agreed. He glanced about the room. Besides the two of them, it was empty, the doors closed. The servants had left awhile before. His eyes fell on her again. "I might kiss you," he warned.

"I might let you."

~*~*~*~*~

"I'm getting married tomorrow," Elizabeth said to herself. "I should be happy."

"So, then, why aren't you?"

The blonde's eyes widened and she turned quickly with a squeal. "Winnie!" she exclaimed, rushing forward and embracing her redheaded sister.

"I'd be happy if this were going to be my home," Florence said, eying the room as she entered. She was soon followed by a wide-eyed Diana.

"What are you doing here?" Elizabeth asked.

Diana spoke up. "You didn't really think that Father would let his favorite daughter wed without his supervision?"

"This is what was missing," the blonde declared. She noticed Daniel enter the room. "Daniel! Oh, do come and meet my sisters!"

"Ladies," he said with a nod as he approached.

"Diana, Florence, Winnie, this is Daniel. He is Lord William's brother."

"It's nice to meet you, Daniel," Elizabeth's sisters chorussed.

Daniel offered a half-grin, his eyes resting on Winnie for a moment longer than it had on Florence or Diana. "Likewise," he said, turning away from the lovely young ladies before him and facing Elizabeth. "Will would like to see you."

Elizabeth looked apologetically at her sisters. "I shall return," she said, allowing Daniel to lead her from the room.

"Is Winnie spoken for?" he asked once they were out of earshot.

"Why, no," she said. "Shall I ask her what she might think of courting the younger brother of Lord Bradley?" she questioned with an amused grin.

His eyes widened and he waved his hands a bit. "That is rushing things a bit," he said, horrified that she would suggest that within minutes of the pair meeting. "I should like to get to know her first," They arrived at William's door. His expression grew serious. "I do not know why he wishes for your company. And I will come to fetch you in awhile, because it's not proper for you to see each other too long the night before your wedding. But if he makes any unwanted advances, tell me and I'll - "

"Protect me from your brother's seduction?" Elizabeth asked.

Daniel thought for a moment, then nodded curtly and pushed her forward. He knocked twice, then turned and left.

William opened the door. "I wanted to see you once more before we were separated for the evening," he said, tugging her into the room. He picked her up, kicking the door shut behind him as he carried her toward the bed.

"Lord William, what are you - "

"My motives are perfectly innocent," he insisted. "I was merely concerned about comfort." He set her down on the plush mattress. "Unless of course you'd rather sit on the hard bench over there," he said with a nod in the uncomfortable object's direction. When she didn't respond, he lay on his back next to her and captured one of her hands in his. The pad of his index finger travelled over her palm lightly as he stared at the ceiling. "Are you comfortable?" he asked.

Elizabeth nodded. "You have a very nice bed," she said shyly.

Lord William chuckled. "NO, I meant are you comfortable with me?"

"I think so," she replied. "It is a strange thing, milord. Two days ago we hadn't met, and then when we did meet, I disliked you - although that was due to truth misconstrued as arrogance - and today, I am comfortable."

"Exactly," William said. He prepared to speak again, but frowned slightly when he realized that she still used his title. "I would like for you to adress me informally. Call me Will," he requested.

"I do believe your cousin Liam suggested the very same to me today," Elizabeth said. "I apologize for the formalities, but I feel as though I must use them until I know someone very well."

He turned onto his side, facing her. "So you met Angel, then?"

Elizabeth nodded.

"What did you think of him?"

"He's very..." Elizabeth pondered for a minute. "You know, I do not believe that there is a word which would adequately describe your cousin," she said, breaking off on a giggle.

He chuckled along with her for a moment, then sobered. "What word would you use to describe me?" he asked seriously.

"Intriguing," she said immediately. "I know that I've only seen a select few of your facets, but I believe I would like to see more of them." She caught her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes downcast. "Is there a word for me?" she asked.

He nodded. Her breath caught as he leaned toward her, his hand coming to rest on her neck with his fingertips threaded into her hair. "Beautiful," he whispered.

She blushed slightly, smiling a bit. "Perhaps that would be a better word for you as well," she said.

He glared at her in mock-offense. "I'm not beautiful," he scoffed. "Handsome, dashing, yes. But beautiful, I think not."

"I have never seen another man who looks like you," she insisted. "Truly, it is as if you were some higher life form than human, you're so unique."

"Well then, what exactly makes me beautiful, since you're so determined to label me as such?"

She studied his features for a moment. "Perhaps it is your eyes. They're lovely eyes, so clear and blue." She shook her head. "Or it could be the angles of your face." She reached out and brushed one fingertip across a high cheekbone. "Or perhaps," she said, her tone dropping to a husky near-whisper, "it could be your mouth..."

"Oh?" William asked, inching toward her. "And what is it about my mouth," he pondered aloud, his breath warming her face, "that is so beautiful?" His lips were now millimeters from hers.

"I do not know exactly," Elizabeth replied. Her tongue flicked out to lick her lips, brushing slightly against his mouth as it passed. A shudder went through both of them. "Perhaps it is what you can do with - "

William cut her off with a kiss. They both inhaled sharply at the contact, their bodies gravitating toward one another as their mouths teased and caressed. Elizabeth's hands travelled over the planes of his back as they kissed, rolling slightly so he lay half atop her. He pulled back for a moment, brushing hair from her face. "So much for innocent motives," he muttered, leaning in to capture her lips again.

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