Chapter Eleven
“I wish it were light out,” Elizabeth said, peering out the carriage window. “To be in London and not be able to see it properly is incredibly frustrating.”
“You’ll see more of it tomorrow, when we set off for Scotland,” William said. “And when we return I’ll show you so many sights you’ll grow bored.” He sighed and looked out the window himself, before commenting wryly, “Such lovely weather for your arrival.”
Rain lashed heavily against the roof of the carriage and progress to his house was much slower than usual. The wind could be heard whistling outside and, combined with the wet weather, it seemed as though a storm was brewing.
Eventually, the carriage came to a stop, and they could hear the driver moving around outside, quieting the horse when it whinnied loudly.
The door opened moments later and the worried, rain-streaked face of the driver peeked in. “Sir, the gates are locked. Can’t go no further.”
William frowned. He had sent all his staff away when he’d made the decision to go to the hospital, leaving instructions for his head of household to check on the property once a week. At all other times, it would be closed up.
He had a key for the front door in his belongings, but not for the gates.
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath.
“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth asked.
“We can’t get in. I don’t have a key for these gates. Damn and damn again!”
“What about a hotel or another inn?” she said and placed her hand on his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly.
“There’s not enough money left,” William mumbled. “I knew something would go wrong, I knew it!”
“Oh.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I have a little. Perhaps—”
“Sir!” the driver appeared at the door again. “The side gate is open. Cab can’t get in, but you can.”
“We’ll be drenched,” William said and sighed again. “Oh well, it can’t be helped, I suppose.” He turned to Elizabeth and assessed her. She was bundled up warmly in coat and gloves, but had no hat to cover her hair. “I’ll take the bags; you walk as fast as you can towards the house,” he said.
“All right.” She nodded.
William paid the driver, who helped unload the luggage and then helped Elizabeth to step down. The rain was falling so hard they were both soaked within seconds. “Let’s go,” he shouted, pointing towards the house with his free hand.
Elizabeth hesitated for a second before hurrying to the open side gate and making her way towards the house—no more than a big black shape on the landscape. William followed her more slowly, their heavy bags weighing him down.
His drive had never seemed so long as it did at that moment, with the rain lashing painfully on his head and back, the wind whistling eerily, and the threat of thunder and lightning in the air. He could see Elizabeth up ahead, her hands above her head to try and protect herself from the worst of the rain.
Finally, he reached the house and where Elizabeth was waiting for him underneath the awning. She looked like a drowned rat, and he imagined he looked much the same. “All right?” he asked and set the bags down on the ground. He bent down to rifle through his case in search of his keys, hoping that he hadn’t somehow mislaid them.
A clink of metal settled the thundering of his heart when he located them, and he pulled them from the bag with a triumphant grin. Elizabeth smiled back, her eyes alight despite the less than perfect circumstances of their arrival.
It was strange to walk into his house after having been away for so long, and stranger still to find it cold and quiet. When his mother had been alive there had always been activity: visitors calling, the staff working at all hours of the day. The house had life. When she had died, things had been quieter but there had always been someone besides himself there, like Stephen, the head of staff, or Mary, the cook. Now, it lay empty, and William found that peculiar, but there was also an air of anticipation when he looked at Elizabeth. Now she was here with him, perhaps the house would have life once more.
He led the way up the stairs, cursing the darkness but not wanting to take the time to light the lamps.
“Your house is very big,” Elizabeth commented as they rounded the corner at the top of the stairs.
“Our house,” William replied absently. He opened the door to his room and set their bags down on the floor just inside. “It’s our house now.”
He moved around the room and lit several candles, as well as the gas lamp on the wall. The fireplace was empty, but he knew there was some firewood downstairs. “Get settled as best you can,” he said. “I’ll try and get a fire going. You should get out of those wet things before you catch your death of cold.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me out of my clothes, Mr. Pratt,” Elizabeth replied, with a wink.
“Perhaps I am.” William smirked, before turning on his heel and leaving the room. He stopped just outside the door to try and catch his breath, breathing hard at just the thought of Elizabeth in his room changing out of her wet clothes. The William who had left London back in May would never have believed it.
He blushed when he thought of what had happened on the train. The locomotive had been almost empty, so they had had the pick of seats and managed to secure a car to themselves. Elizabeth had been full of smiles and laughter at finally being underway, and her mood had been infectious.
Somehow, she had ended up on his lap with her arms looped around his neck, and then they’d been kissing again and again until they were both breathless. The kisses were unlike the chaste pecks they had shared before; they were hot, and open-mouthed, and left William panting for more.
His hands had wandered, exploring the soft curves of her body, and Elizabeth hadn’t been shy in touching him, either.
Descending the stairs to the kitchen, he wondered how far things would have gone had the door not rattled to signal the arrival of the ticket conductor. They had sprung apart as though burned and had exchanged sheepish glances, while the conductor checked their tickets, a look of disapproval on his face.
William managed to get a fire going in the kitchen and set two large pans of water to heat on the range—Elizabeth would want to wash before bed. He collected another armful of firewood and picked up the box of matches before making his way back upstairs.
He kicked his bedroom door open with his foot and almost dropped the wood, his breath catching in his throat at the vision before him. Elizabeth had taken a seat at the dressing table. Dressed only in her shift and corset and with her long hair loose down her back, she was more alluring a sight than William had ever seen.
As quietly as he could, he stacked the wood in the fireplace and came up behind her. She had a brush in her hand and was teasing it through her wet hair. William took the brush from her and set it down on the dressing table. He pulled her hair to one side and bent down to press a soft kiss to her neck, making her shiver. She was cold, and his kiss raised gooseflesh on her skin, so he wrapped his arms around her. “Shall I draw you a bath?” he whispered. “I’ve got some water heating in the kitchen.”
“Yes please,” she said quietly, turning in his arms. “I’ve gone suddenly very cold. You should bathe too, afterwards.”
William swallowed heavily, then nodded. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
“I’ll build the fire up,” Elizabeth said as he left the room.
William started to go back downstairs but hesitated when he passed by the door of his mother’s room. He hadn’t been in there since she’d died, not even to sort through her things, but now… there was something he needed.
Slipping the item into his pocket, he descended to the kitchen. The water he’d set to heat wasn’t overly warm yet but it would have to do, and he hoped that Elizabeth wouldn’t mind its tepidity. He heaved the heavy pans upstairs and back into his bedroom, where Elizabeth had managed to get a fire crackling in the grate.
She followed him into the bathroom and watched while he poured the water into the bath. “Here you are,” he said and turned to fetch out soap and a cloth for her from a cupboard. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“No,” she said, touching him lightly on his arm. “Stay, please.”
“I—ah. Okay. I’ll be back in a moment.” He returned to his room and set the box he’d retrieved from his mother’s room on the dresser, before picking up a small stool. When he went back into the bathroom, he was relieved to see that Elizabeth had settled herself under the water of the bath, and he could see very little beneath the surface in the dim lighting of the room.
William set the stool next to the bath and sat down. It was quiet—the only sound the occasional ripple of water—but the silence was not uncomfortable. The candles he’d lit cast a warm glow around the room, and he didn’t think he’d seen Elizabeth look more beautiful.
He felt truly content and hoped that she felt the same.
***
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you to everyone who's been reading and commenting. Thanks again to Sotia for being a wonderful beta reader. Please make sure you read the author's note at the end of this chapter!
Chapter End Notes:
You can probably guess what's coming next. ;) The next installment will be posted as a separate one shot, entitled 'The Night of the Storm'. I didn't want to bump up the rating for the entire fic for just the one scene. Thanks for reading! Please do let me know what you thought by leaving a review.