Author's note: I apologize for taking so long to get this story to you. As a college student (approaching graduation!), life tends to get in the way of leisurely writing. Please bear with me. I am working fastidiously on chapter 5.
*
"And so the young master returns."
Gerard started, looking over his shoulder at Henry. He had just returned home and was busying himself setting Lucifer up for the night. "Yes, Henry," he answered. "And you are quite stealthy for an old man."
Henry chuckled, holding a black coat for Gerard to slip into as the men exited the stable. The sky had yet again torn asunder, and fat droplets of rain splashed them as the quickened their pace toward the house. "I trust you found the girl, sir?" Henry asked, stealing a glance at Gerard as they stomped the mud off their shoes at the back door.
"Hmm?" Gerard said absentmindedly. "Er, yes, Henry. I found her." He couldn't stop the grin from forming across his face. The entire ride back to his great aunt's house, Gerard's mind had been consumed with Elizabeth. Her sapphire eyes, her flaring temper, her smile, and, most importantly, her lush lips that parted so pliantly beneath his. Gerard stifled a groan as he remembered. No wonder he couldn't think of anything else.
"Well, sir, you need say nothing more," Henry said, winking and giving Gerard a knowing smile. "I was young once, myself."
Gerard chuckled, clapping the old man on the back. "I trust I haven't missed dinner, then?" he asked.
"No, sir," Henry answered, ushering the younger man into the hallway. "In fact, they were henpecking me as to your whereabouts all afternoon, and simply refused to dine without you."
"Fabulous," Gerard muttered, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. Henry bit back a laugh, knowing full well how much of a handful the women could be.
"Gerard?" Mrs. St. Claire's voice trickled from the dining room. "Gerard, dear, is that you?"
Strolling through the doorway and toward his seat at the end of the ornate dining table, Gerard bowed his head in greeting to his great aunt and dropped a kiss on his mother's cheek. "Yes, Mother, I have returned." Seated, he picked up his knife and fork, saying, "So where are the victuals?"
"Tosh, my dear boy," Maybelle scolded, wrinkling her nose in her already well-wrinkled face. "You are gone all day without a word to us about where you are going or what you are doing, and you return at this ungodly hour and expect to be fed?" Raising her finger and wagging it at her great nephew, she said, "Not a bite to eat until you tell us everything!"
Gerard smirked, admiring the spunk the old woman still had in her. She reminded him of Elizabeth, and he found himself wondering if she would be anything like Maybelle when she was that age.
"My dear, kind, beautiful aunt," he said, attempting to placate her so he could finally eat. "I promise I will tell you and Mother all there is to know." Pausing until she lowered her finger, he then said, "But first I need to fill my stomach, else I not have the strength to divulge my secrets."
Maybelle clucked her tongue while Mrs. St. Claire narrowed her eyes at her son. Gerard had always been rather closed off to her, always having been his father's son. How she wished he would be more open with her, especially since that cherished father was now gone. "Of course, darling," she said, gesturing to the butler to bring in the first course. "Eat to your heart's content, then, please! Share with us what had you running out of here so quickly this morning."
*
When Elizabeth and Teddy arrived back to the farmhouse that evening, she had foregone dinner in favor of escaping to her room. She couldn't bear the idea of sitting once again under her parents' scrutiny.
She threw herself on her bed, not bothering to change out of her still damp dress. Sighing, her mind tumbled over the events of the day. What was it that got into me? she asked herself, toying with a tangled curl of hair. No doubt she'd enjoyed very much that kiss with Gerard. Much more, in fact, than she'd enjoyed any other kiss. This had not been a stolen kiss behind the barn – no, this had been the kiss of two adults who clearly had an attraction to each other.
But does that excuse me to act so... immodest? Elizabeth wondered. Torn between a feeling of propriety and a confusing yet strong urge to see (and kiss) Gerard again, she simply hoped that she'd never have to see him again. Maybe that way she could move past this, and her parents would stop bothering her with their wishes.
A soft knock came at her door. "Elizabeth?" Mrs. Winshaw said. "Elizabeth? Dear, are you alright?"
"Come in, Mama," Elizabeth said, sitting up on her bed and smoothing her dress. The door opened and Mrs. Winshaw stepped inside gingerly. She was still a remarkably good looking woman, one whom Elizabeth bore a striking resemblance to. Her dark hair had become streaked with gray in the last few years, and there were smile lines around her blue eyes. But all in all she looked warm and beautiful. Though farm life was hard, it was clear that she was happy. Oh Mama, Elizabeth thought, how I wish I could be more like you.
"Why didn't you have supper with us?" Mrs. Winshaw said, concern evident in her face as she sat down beside Elizabeth.
"I am just tired, Mama," Elizabeth fibbed. Well, it was partly true. But the full truth was something her mother just wouldn't understand.
"Did you see that young man again today?" Mrs. Winshaw asked, seemingly reading her daughter's mind. Looking up, Elizabeth saw that her mother looked hopeful.
Irritated, she managed to answer calmly, "Yes, he took me for a horseback ride."
"Oh, how lovely!" Mrs. Winshaw squealed, clasping her hands together under her chin. "That sounds so romantic, dear!"
"Yes, Mama," Elizabeth snapped. "I know what you think. I know what you have to say. But what if I don't want to hear it?"
Offended, Mrs. Winshaw said, "What is wrong with you, girl? Mr. St. Claire seems to have taken a great liking to you, and you are resisting him at every turn! What of your duty to this family?"
"How can I think of my duty to this family when I can't even figure out what I feel about him?" Elizabeth shouted, standing up and glaring at her mother. Tears sprung to her eyes, but she didn't want to cry in front of her mother.
Mrs. Winshaw sighed and stood up, placing her hands on her softly swelled hips. "There's no excuse to raise your voice to me, girl," she said sternly. Then she placed her hands on either side of Elizabeth's face, forcing her daughter to meet her eye. "I know what's wrong with you, love," she said. "You are scared."
The tears Elizabeth had been fighting finally won the battle as they streamed down her pale cheeks. "I'm sorry, Mama, but I do not know what he wants of me," she said softly, allowing her mother to place her arms around her in at attempt to comfort. "I'm so... confused... I do not know what I feel about him, I barely know him."
"Oh darling," Mrs. Winshaw said, her heart rending at the sight of her oldest baby in such turmoil. "Alright, here's us a deal, then."
She pulled away to wipe the tears from Elizabeth's eyes. "You know full well what your father and I feel about the subject. You know we wish you to be married, not only so you will be taken care of, but also so you can help take care of us." Waiting until Elizabeth had collected herself, she then said, "I promise you this: your father and I will stop harping on you about getting married, if you promise to give this man a good, honest chance."
Elizabeth said nothing for a moment, considering her mother's words. It seemed reasonable, and both parties would be getting what they wanted. "And what if I decide I don't want to marry Gerard?" she asked.
