Edward Rawlings always considered himself a man of utmost pride and respectability. He and his sister, Joyce, had grown up quite comfortably with one another, spoiled rotten by their doting mother. As a young man, Rawlings knew what his future had in store. He would have a profitable business, a respectable wife who could run an efficient household, and two or perhaps three children, given the nature of he and his wife’s relationship.
However, here he was, a man approaching his mid-fifties and a confirmed bachelor. His darling little sister had run off to America to be with a man she barely knew. Granted, the marriage was respectable, and they had simply moved to America in order to be closer to Hank Sumner’s business ventures. Nevertheless, Rawlings felt he had been cheated from seeing his sister grow and mature into a fine woman.
It was with a rather strange delight that he agreed to accept his young niece into his home. The prospect of having even more correspondence with his sister was a thrilling one. He hoped that Elizabeth would bring a certain amount of joy to his life. He imagined that it would be like having Joyce back again.
It wasn’t.
Rawlings simply didn’t know how to connect with this child. Contemplating his situation with her, he sat perched on the window bench of his study and looked out on the gardens. The usual lack of English sunlight meant the flowers were dull and lacking their potential luster. It reminded him a bit of his young charge. While she tried to present a joyful and youthful front, anyone who observed her for even a mere moment would notice the underlying sadness and, well, emptiness that seemed to cling to her like a second skin.
Taking care of her was nothing like looking after his sister.
There was no light in her eyes, no spark.
He only saw a deepening abyss of despair that attempted to swallow him whole. He couldn’t stand to look at her at times, wondering how Joyce could have raised such an unpleasant little girl. His sister was full of such life, and his niece, such anguish. It was a great disappointment.
That was why he hoped to get her married as soon as possible. Foist her off to the first available man so that he wouldn’t have to stare into her lifeless eyes a moment longer.
Turning his gaze away from the garden at the sound of the front door, he sighed. He was getting far too old to be the guardian of a young girl, even if she was his niece.
As his thoughts drifted away from the young girl, he finally took note of the time, and realized that it was far later than it should have been. He had not seen her all day. He certainly hoped that she had not made a spectacle of herself. He didn’t know what girls were like in America, but if she was going to be living under his roof, he’d make sure that she understood that she could not bloody go off any time that she pleased.
Up until this point, she had rarely ventured outside of the house. Well, if she was going to do this now, he had better make some guidelines for the young thing to follow or else he’d never be rid of her.
Stepping out to the front landing, Rawlings watched as Elizabeth took off her hat, gloves, and proceeded to kick off her shoes. She’d made the horrible habit of not wearing her shoes while inside the house. He’d tried to tell her again and again that it was necessary, but she’d just beg off and compromise with slippers instead. It was unseemly. What if someone were to call on them?
“Ah, Elizabeth, there you are,” Rawlings said, unable to keep his annoyance in check. “Where have you been this afternoon?” Bloody girl had better have a proper excuse.
“Out,” she stated hesitantly. “I went on a picnic with someone I met at the Underwood party yesterday. I hope that was alright?”
Oh thank heavens. “So you were with one of the fine ladies from the party? That’s good. A good English friend is someone whom you need if you are going to end up in the right circles, Elizabeth.”
“Those girls? No thank you. I wouldn’t want to spend any more time with them than necessary. They were simply horrid. All they cared about was the latest town gossip. They were completely ridiculous if you ask me.”
“Ridiculous? Elizabeth, those are the girls that your mother wanted me to mold you after. You cannot escape that which is to be your future,” Rawlings barked in response to her tirade. Ridiculous indeed.
Continuing, he said, “You had better start acting appropriately or else there’s no telling what I might have to do.”
“Now, who were you with?”
Buffy looked nervously about, her facial expressions confirming to Rawlings that she had been up to no good. “I was with Will- I mean, Mr. Pratt.”
“A MAN!” Rawlings bellowed at the top of his lungs. “You were alone in public with a MAN. You are forbidden to see him ever again. I will not tolerate this type of behavior from you. No wonder your mother sent you to me. You are nothing but a –”
Mustering her courage, even as tears pooled in her eyes, “What’s wrong with that? I just went on a picnic.” Buffy responded with distress, a look of confusion marring her features as she wrung her hands. “It’s not like I went off to –”
“Went off to what? A young girl of your station should not have any clue about what would follow in that sentence. Have you given yourself to that man?” Rawlings had never felt such intolerable rage. To think that he brought that girl into his home as a favor to his sister and this was how the girl responded.
“No, I haven’t done th-that. We just went on a picnic.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Rawlings interjected, “your reputation is ruined anyway. You were still on an outing with him, unsupervised. No one will ever take you now.” My God, I’ll be stuck with her forever.
“That’s not true. Mr. Pratt’s driver was there the whole time. We didn’t know how long we’d be, so he was kind enough to just stay there.” Buffy defended herself, biting her lip in an unconscious reaction to her unease.
“Bloody lucky you are. Granted, as a servant, he’ll be sure to alert the whole of London that my niece doesn’t know how to behave.”
Buffy, unused to her fictional uncle taking that tone with her, quietly queried, “What do I need to do to fix this?”
“I’ll get you a chaperon. And, would I be interpreting this situation correctly, if I said you plan to spend more time with this Mr. Pratt?” Rawlings spat out, desperately wishing that her answer would be no.
“Y-yes.”
Stepping closer to Buffy, pointing a finger within inches of her face, Rawlings told her simply, but with a definite threat in his tone, “I will be checking out his financial standing. He had better be economically worth all of this trouble. I’ll not let you marry a pauper and ruin the family.”
With that, Rawlings quickly turned around and stomped out of the hall, leaving a bewildered Buffy in his wake.
“A chaperone?” Buffy said aloud, to empty room.
“Early one morning, just as the sun was shining…” Anne sang quietly to herself as she sat with her embroidery and waited for William to return home. She hadn’t had the chance to speak with him last night. He’d come home far too late in the evening for her to wait up. She wasn’t the young girl she used to be, Anne thought with a sigh.
Thinking about the Underwood party gave Anne pause, her hands stumbling slightly with the needle, despite the ease years had afforded her. She truly hoped that Cecily had not given her poor boy any heartache. He wore his heart so freely, that even the admonishment of a perfect stranger caused him pain. Like his father in so many ways. He’d need a strong woman to bring up his spirits.
As she turned her attention back to the task before her, she heard the door open.
“William, dear, is that you?”
“Yes, Mother. I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Well, he sounds rather happy. Perhaps last night turned out better than I expected.
Watching her son come into the room, Anne noted the way that he seemed to float on air. “Did you have a good time last night? You certainly seem like you did,” Anne asked with a barely concealed smile. It was about time he found some happiness in his life.
William blushed. “Yes, Mum. I did have a rather enchanting evening.” William responded and Anne knew without a doubt that he did. Even as a small child, William had only ever called her Mum when he wanted something or was in an extraordinarily good mood.
“Enchanting you say? Did you finally steal the young Miss Underwood’s heart?” I hope you did for your sake. Even if I do find her rather…cold.
“Miss Underwood! Good heavens, no. I wouldn’t dream of having any sort of relationship with her,” he stated succinctly.
“You wouldn’t?” Anne asked with shock, dropping her needlework. “But, I thought you lo-cared for her?” What could have possibly happened? Were those poems about someone else? Why hasn’t he told me about her?
“I met the most…magnificent creature last night, Mother,” William said as he dropped down to his knees at her feet, right before jumping back up to pace, far too excited to sit still.
“Met someone? I should hardly think your affections would be so easy to sway.” That’s no way to love or be loved by others.
Seeing that William was off somewhere else, lost in a fantasy, Anne took a moment to study him. He looked, well, happy. Happier than she had seen him in ages. He was always good-natured and amiable. However, since he had set his sights on Miss Underwood, some of that inner light had died in him, seemingly leaving him the more he realized that he would never capture her heart. Now he reminded her of that slightly mischievous little boy who had just woken up on Christmas morning.
“William?” Anne tried, and then, a little louder, “WILLIAM,” smirking to herself when he jumped. He clearly had no idea where he was or that he had left his poor mother hanging on his every word.
“Magnificent creature…?” she prodded.
“Mmm, yes, most magnificent.” William finally refocused and began telling his mother all about the lovely afternoon he spent with Miss Elizabeth Sumner.
As Anne listened to her son spout about the wonderful attributes of this young woman, she was delighted, but also extremely worried. She hoped her son had not given his heart to another woman not worry of such a gift.
Try as she might, all Buffy could do was toss and turn. She couldn’t fall asleep for the life of her. No matter what she did, Rawlings words kept echoing in the back of her mind. If she wasn’t careful, she was afraid that he would make her stop seeing Spike.
Not that he could really do anything, cuz Slayer and an’ all, but he could make it difficult. And she sincerely doubted that William would be up for any covert love affair operations.
Why couldn’t Willow have picked a better guardian for her? One that wouldn’t flip out if she went by herself? Oh, that’s right, because she was in the stupid Victorian era, where everyone was sexually repressed and scandals abounded.
Flipping back over to her side, Buffy pulled on her pillow and wrapped her arms around it, imagining that it was Spike. Thinking back to those last few days in Sunnydale when all they did was hold each other, she tried to recreate those feelings in her.
Apparently her ability to fantasize was getting better, because suddenly she thought that she could actually feel Spike’s arms. Like she was being wrapped up in a Spike sized blanket. Buffy had no idea what it was, but she wasn’t going to question it, as she let the warm feelings lull her into a peaceful sleep.
Across town, William was having the same trouble. Sleep alluded him, but for a completely different reason. He was ecstatic. Too much energy for him to deal with. He simply didn’t know how to calm down. Miss Elizabeth was…beyond words.
Thinking back over his life, William wondered if he would be able to make it work with her. She certainly seemed like she wanted to be genuine friends.
He’d been disappointed so many times before.
William had always had trouble connecting with people. Well, no, that wasn’t true. He always tried to connect with others, but they never wanted to with him. William remembered a young boy who used to live down the street. William had only been six or seven at the time, and his parents had invited the family over for tea. The two boys had been expected to go and play while the adults talked.
Henry hadn’t wanted to play.
Instead, William had spent an unnatural amount of time hiding, while the boy did not do any seeking. His parents found him underneath his father’s desk in the study well after the Hydes had gone home for the evening.
Shaking his head, as if to clear it by force, William decided to turn over once more and attempt to find some sleep. Thinking back to earlier in the afternoon, William slowly nodded off to the image of sparkling green eyes and the heat of Miss Elizabeth’s hand when she’d briefly rested it upon his knee.
“Well, I simply do not know what has become of that boy. Two weeks; it’s been two weeks, and hardly hide nor tail. I don’t know what possibly could have persuaded him to be so…so, male,” Anne announced as she walked into the kitchen, startling the cook and staff with her sudden entrance.
While the Pratt Family was financially secure, they were not millionaires. The staff of the house included one cook, one servant/maid, and one butler who doubled as a driver for both Anne and William. As a result, the staff was thought of as family more than servants. All three of them had been there long before William was born.
“Has he now?” Cook replied, chopping some vegetables, and slyly trying to get more information, while appearing disinterested. She’d seen the young man grow up and he was very special to her.
“Yes. It is but terrible. I do not know what has befallen my sweet boy. He leaves early in the morning and returns well after dark. If he’s not careful, some ruffian may get a hold of him,” Anne worried aloud as she paced about the kitchen.
“I well understand that men do not concern themselves with the worries of women, especially their mothers, but William has never been like that. He’s such a darling boy. I would expect – I assume – a boy’s blatant disregard for his mother’s wishes in their youth, but my Lord, he’s almost thirty! ‘Tis certainly an unseemly time to revert,” she ended in a sigh.
Cook, who was a bit more of a romantic than most people gave her credit for, what with her masculine features and seemingly perpetual frown, announced rather airily, “Ah, but Mum, don’t you remember what it felt like to be young and in love?”
“I suppose you’re right, Cook,” Anne replied with a laugh. “William certainly has fallen head over heals for this one. I’m glad that I will finally be meeting her this afternoon for tea.”
Cook didn’t reply, only nodded. She too was excited to see the girl that had made William so happy for the last few weeks. Cook hadn’t caught a glimpse of her when she had prepared their earlier picnic.
“If I may say, Mum.” Cook liked to keep up formalities, even though she considered Mrs. Pratt family. “I must say that I’ve never seen Master William so happy. After the Underwood party, I thought our dear Master William would return sad and upset, what with that Miss Underwood being such a heartless wench –”
“Cook!”
“– but instead, he came home rather happy, and then early the next morning that young slip of thing came over. I fixed a picnic for the two of them to go on,” she ended, words full of pride for her surrogate son.
Hearing the doorbell chime, Anne left to go and greet her houseguest, popping a pilfered carrot into her mouth, and winking cheekily.
William beat his mother to the door, wiping his hands on his trousers to make sure that his nerves had not gotten the better of him. He was both anxious and excited to have his mother meet Miss Elizabeth. Anxious because he couldn’t wait to be in her presence again and excited because he knew that his mother would absolutely love her.
William opened the door, his smile faltering when he saw Mrs. Fairfax appear before him, with Miss Elizabeth bringing up the rear.
Mrs. Fairfax was the old curmudgeon that Rawlings had found to be his niece’s chaperon. While William certainly understood that convention required her presence, he couldn’t help but wish that Rawlings had found someone a bit younger. Someone who wouldn’t mind giving he and Buffy at least two minutes alone. That woman was like a hawk, just waiting for either to misstep.
“Mrs. Fairfax, it is a pleasure to see you once again. And you as well, Miss Sumner. No man could be more fortunate to have the company of two such ladies,” William said sincerely, but neither of the women doubted as to whom those sentiments were truly spoken.
“William,” Buffy acknowledged, blushing slightly in the warmth of his gaze.
“May I escort you to the parlor?” Taking his arm, Buffy nodded her assent and the three moved to the next room and awaited William’s mother.
“Oh my God, you are such a liar!” Buffy exclaimed loudly, throwing a pillow in William’s general direction.
“I am telling you the absolute truth,” he countered with a rich laugh, tossing the pillow back her way.
“Yeah, right! There is no way that I would believe that you said a thing like that. To anyone. Let alone think it.”
“By what powers do you believe that you are able to state what I would or would not do? We, in truth, have not known each other very long.”
“Duh! I know you, William.”
All William could do was look on in amazement. It would seem he agreed with her statement.
“Well, I-I suppose that you do indeed,” William said, his voice regaining a stutter that all in the room had though he’d outgrown in her presence.
“I most certainly do and –”
“William, whatever do we have here?” Anne asked as she stepped out from behind the parlor door, having been observing the easy interactions between her son and the beautiful blonde. While she initially had her reservations about the young woman, thinking her intentions to match those of the young Miss Underwood, witnessing her son’s brief interaction proved quite enlightening.
She had never seen him laugh as delightfully as he did now or see his smile quite so bright. It was heartening to behold. He deserved so much from a good woman. And, it seemed as though this woman might be it.
“M-Mother, I-I…um…this is….um…?” He stopped mid sentence, realizing in horror that he had forgotten her name.
“Elizabeth Sumner.” Buffy stepped in to save William from turning a darker shade of red. “You may know my uncle, Edward Rawlings?”
“Oh, yes of course, dear. And I am Anne. Please address me as such.”
Stepping slightly away from the vivacious girl and her son, Anne took note of Mrs. Fairfax. Her son had gone on at some length to describe just how annoying the woman could be.
“And you must be Mrs. Fairfax, I presume?” Anne stretched out her hand in welcome, only to have her son’s opinions confirmed as the woman merely grunted in response. Mrs. Fairfax turned her head back to the book she was reading, appearing uninterested in the world – or polite custom.
Trying not to be put out by the old woman’s actions, Anne turned her attention back to the couple and addressed them both.
“Now, if my son could forestall his blush in order to tell me how the two of you met?” Anne asked impishly, moving over to the settee. She could clearly read from her son’s face that he was still embarrassed about his earlier blunder, but more importantly, that this girl meant the world to him. His father used to look at me the exact same way.
Finally clueing in that his mother had asked him a question, William slowly responded, his gaze turning hazy as he thought about the first moment he saw his golden-haired goddess. Not even catching on to the fact that he thought of her as his.
“But of course, Mother, I would be most pleased to tell you the happy tale. It was truly a night to remember. It all started when…”
Anne eagerly listened to the tale of how this young woman had swept her son of his feet. Although William had told her before, this time, she had the benefit of enjoying the way Buffy blushed under William’s praise. Anne could not hold back her own grin as Buffy smiled prettily for him. The young girl gained even more of Anne’s admiration when she interjected at certain points, citing that William hadn’t given himself enough credit.
Their arguing back and forth caused Anne to contemplate the childishness of both her son and his…something. Anne smiled inwardly at the delight she felt for her son’s happiness. Cecily had never brought that sort of light into William’s eyes. Anne refused to believe that love had ever entered the equation for either party. Even though William professed such affections, if he could see himself when he was with Elizabeth, his previous emotions would seem like a figment.
Turning to Buffy and placing her hand comfortingly on her arm, she said, “Well I certainly must say, you do seem to have swept my son off of his feet. I do not know whether to think you have bewitched him in some way or have simply fallen from Heaven somehow.”
“I am not sure about Heaven, Mrs. Pratt, but I should think I could charge William with the same crime.” Buffy smiled demurely.
Sitting back rather shocked at the young girl’s declaration, Anne finally started laughing, beginning with a giggle she had not lent out since her own girl-hood, and ending in a hearty chuckle.
“Mother?” William queried, “Are you quite well?”
Gaining control of her stiff upper-lip, Anne explained, “My dear girl, I have never ventured to America, but if the other young ladies are like you, then I feel I should find the country much to my liking. I do enjoy your spirit,” she ended with a warm smile.
“As do I,” William said, heart skipping a beat with surprise at his announcement.
All three of them spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying a quiet tea and learning even more about each other. They also pointedly ignored Mrs. Fairfax’s quiet snoring in the background.
Maybe having a chaperone wouldn’t be that bad after all.
Eight weeks later…
They were alone – completely alone.
Buffy didn’t think that she and William would ever be alone together again. Ever since that first morning when she had gone over to his house and said that she was going to monopolize all his time, they had not once been alone.
And now they were.
She was going to have to make the most of it.
Buffy and William had been enjoying a quiet moment together, mutually reading, and sharing furtive glances with one another as they listened to the rhythmic and predictable snores of Mrs. Fairfax.
The three of them had enjoyed a trip to the museum yesterday and were resting from their exertions. Buffy and William had discovered early on, that if they wanted to have a few moments to themselves, all they need to do was wear out Mrs. Fairfax. Museums and long, extended walks worked well.
However, today proved to be even more fortuitous, as Rawlings had called Mrs. Fairfax into his study, and it didn’t seem like they were going to emerge any time soon; hence the current predicament.
They were alone.
However companionable the two may have appeared to strangers, both knew that the silence was anything but comfortable.
Buffy wasn’t quite sure, but she knew that something changed between the two of them since she met Anne. And that change had progressed naturally and rapidly since that day. It made Buffy’s head spin with the knowledge that she was really in the past and he was hers.
After that tea, she had been a frequent visitor in the Pratt household, greatly enjoying spending time with a maternal figure. Anne reminded her of her own mother. Perhaps that was why Spike was so taken with Joyce?
Nevertheless, the three of them had been getting on wonderfully, and Buffy couldn’t have been happier.
Except for one thing.
She never had a chance to really talk to William, to express her feelings, not without the possibility of Mrs. Fairfax overhearing them. Although the blonde sincerely doubted that would happen, given the woman’s penchant for napping and her less than subtle snoring.
But now they were alone, and Buffy didn’t have a clue what to do.
William, on the other hand, did.
Suddenly blurting out, “Please forgive me,” William edged ever closer to her, briefly brushed his lips against hers. Too astonished to react, Buffy was barely able to acknowledge what had happened let alone prepare a proper response. Opening and closing her mouth repeatedly, her inability to respond was only heightened by William’s growing blush and increasingly indecipherable babble of apology.
“Pl-please f-forgive m-me. I-I-I am so s-s-sor-ry. I…am but a bad…rude man, to h-have p-presumed to –” His self-degradation was cut off by Buffy’s lips on his. However, she did not stop there.
Wanting desperately to have him, but knowing that she was very much dealing with William and not Spike, Buffy refrained from mauling him, and instead shared a light, but meaningful kiss. Though not as soft as the kiss she gave Spike after his beating with Glory, it was heartfelt and slightly world changing. God, if I’d only let Spike kiss me like that all the time.
Moving her lips slowly across his, she waited until he relaxed and brought his hand up to cup her face before slowly darting her tongue out to tease him, ever so tantalizingly, until he slightly opened his mouth. Using that moment to attain her goal, Buffy gave into her desire to really kiss him. Re-familiarizing herself with the feel of him, she found heaven again.
Though he no longer reminded her of whiskey and cigarettes, the underlying taste that made him, well, him was still there and she half moaned, half cried out in joy, uttering a throaty call of his name. Finally realizing that perhaps this was too much for what she assumed was William’s second kiss, she moved back, only to immediately kiss him again, too afraid to open her eyes and realize that it was all a dream. Only in her dreams did she ever feel like this.
Although she longed for their kiss to continue, she forced her eyes to open, and gasped as she did. It was there, just as it always had been. In his twinkling blue eyes, she found his unmasked adoration and awe. Buffy was fairly certain that this was what swooning felt like.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
As soon as Mrs. Fairfax had left the room, William was more than aware of the fact that he was alone with his…girl…Miss Elizabeth. Ever since the two of them had the meeting with his mother, he felt as though everything in his life was falling into place. He was meant to go that disastrous party and meet this shining angel.
In the past weeks, he had learned to accept that she was really with him and not using him for such ridiculous and frivolous reasons as he had first suspected. She was with him for him and that made him feel…alive, for perhaps the first time in his existence. She brought light and laughter to his rather dull world. Buffy had delivered him from mediocrity.
Seeing her sitting there made him act on some unknown impulse; one that had been building for weeks, a desire that he didn’t have a name for. So he acted.
On instinct.
He had to know whether her thoughts mirrored his own.
But once he kissed her, all of his bravado fell away, and he was awash with doubts and insecurities. He was unbelieving of his utter stupidity, to think that a beautiful creature, such as her, would desire him, like that, would want him as more than a friend was an absurd notion.
William had never once seen her so flustered, even those times that he thought her rather forward for a lady of stature. Now he had seemingly bollixed the whole thing up, and he was to lose the only true friend he had ever made, because he acted like some foul beast that could not control its more base desires.
Though he did not even know how to begin to apologize, he started…only to become more befuddled as Buffy’s lips met his once again. Not knowing how to respond, he sat stiffly as Buffy continued her slow assault on his lips. Realizing that she in no way was going to stop, as he’d assumed this kiss was to be a friendly peck, to either reassure him that their friendship had not been lost or a goodbye kiss, he slowly relaxed and let her have her way with him.
He tentatively raised his hand to brush against the delicate skin of her face. William then felt the sinfully delicious sensation of her tongue brushing against his own. It was sure to be quite improper, but God would have to strike him down at that very moment, before he would relinquish her.
When she moaned out his name against his lips, he was sure that the world could end and he wouldn’t care, only to have this amazing creature at his side for just one moment more. When she pulled away to take a breath, he thought she had changed her mind, but as her fingers clutched at his jacket lapels and she swooped in for one more taste, he knew that she was as desperate as he.
Finally opening his eyes to peer into her green depths, he gasped in surprise as he found love shining brightly back to him. Feeling an indescribable burst of happiness, he jumped up, bringing her with him, and spun them around, delighting in her tinkling laughter. William thought that this was the emotion that other poets wrote; that elusive feeling he had never been able to catch. This was love.