This story is a work of fiction and all characters are of legal age. In reality consent is key and similar action is never okay.
Miss Louisa Becker felt on edge. In fact, she had felt this way for quite some time now, for a fortnight to be exact, ever since that night she had found herself in Lord Farley's chambers by accident. She had barely seen him since, only passing glances as he left a room or strode down a corridor, always accompanied by other lords and never giving her as much as a second look.
She wasn't sure of what she had been expecting after that night, but this certainly wasn't it, and it was playing with her nerves. She kept expecting him to say or do something, anything, to acknowledge the night he had defiled her, but he never did. Not as much as a teasing look or a raised eyebrow had come her way since then. She should try to put it behind her all the same, she decided, and let her eyes sweep the room once again.
The big ballroom was filled with lords and ladies of different ages and standings, chatting, dancing, and enjoying the elaborate foods and drinks on display. She would not mind that herself, she was, in fact, quite parched, Louisa thought to herself as she made her way over to the refreshments.
She had not made it halfway when she was stopped by Lord Brightby. Lord Brightby was a tall man, though not as tall as Lord Farley, and a bit older, more nearing her father's age. He was wearing his most dignified smile as he greeted her, but she could see that his face and neck were already splotched red from drink.
"Ah, Miss Becker! Are we enjoying ourselves this evening?" He inquired, giving her figure a look over.
"Yes, very much, Lord Brightby," she replied, being careful to hide the note of suspicion in her voice.
Lord Brightby's much younger wife had passed away in childbirth, her sixth child in ten years, last spring, and the palace rumours were all about how he was now looking for a new young wife so that he could add to his collection of children. She was not interested; he was too old and too foul.
"I was just making my way over to the refreshments, if you would excuse me, my lord," she added before he could say anything more, but as she took a step to move, he stopped her.
"Please, allow me, Miss Becker," he said with a bow and turned on his heel to fetch them both refreshments.
Louisa let out a small huff of air as she saw his back disappear amongst the finely dressed people of the court. She did not much like being forced into conversation like this. It was but a moment before Lord Brightby returned, two glasses in his hand. She took the glass he offered her, staying to make polite conversation for a few more minutes before excusing herself once again on the pretence of needing to find her mother.
Some hour later, the room had grown hot, and Louisa felt perspiration break out on her brow. She did not feel entirely too well at the moment, so she decided she better return to her rooms for an early night. Her vision began to swim as she made her way towards the door, and she felt her feet stagger as she left the room.
The hallway had fewer people than the ballroom, but Louisa still felt crowded, like she could hardly breathe. She took a few more staggering paces before she slipped into an adjoining hallway that she luckily found abandoned. She leaned against the wall, feeling the cool stone on her forehead as she tried to collect herself. The room was swimming around her, so she closed her eyes, trying her hardest to remain standing. She must be falling gravely ill, she thought as she tried to calm her breath, unsure of how she was going to make it in this condition. She had not felt this worse for wear since she had been a child with a wicked winter fever.
She was so put out, she did not hear the footsteps joining her in the hallway and therefore jumped in surprise when she felt a large hand fall on her shoulder.
"Are you feeling quite alright, Miss Becker?" Her head whipped up to find Lord Farley staring down at her, a slightly amused look on his face.
-
Lord Farley had been bored all evening. This ball was nothing but the same boring lords, the same boring music, and the same boring conversation. The only thing that had piqued his curiosity had been when he had been standing by the refreshments table talking to Lord Burmont about the new agricultural relief initiative he was trying to push through. Lord Farley had barely been paying attention to Lord Burmont's words when he had seen Lord Brightby approach the table, pour himself two drinks, and when he thought no one was looking, he had slipped the contents of a small glass vial into one of the drinks before straightening up and disappearing back into the crowd.
Though Lord Farley's interest piqued, he did not find himself in need of interference. Whomever Lord Brightby had intended the second drink for would not remember much if he was right as to the contents of the vial, and it was not in his interest to be the white knight of some unfortunate debutante. He really could not be bothered.
It was not an hour later when he was in conversation with Lords Maxby and Shatton that he realised whom the recipient of Lord Brightby's spiked drink was. Lords Maxby and Shatton were talking his ear off about an initiative they wanted supported in the house of lords when Miss Louisa Becker slipped past them. The other lords barely noticed her, but Lord Farley noticed the wobble in her step as she passed in haste.
When a moment later Lord Brightby also passed them, a determined look in his eyes, he made the connection. Without even thinking about it, Lord Farley reached out, grabbing Lord Brightby and veering him from his course.
"Lord Brightby! Just the man I was looking for! You simply must hear about this exciting initiative of Lords Maxby and Shatton!" he said in a jolly tone.
Lord Brightby looked as if he wanted to protest, but the Lords Maxby and Shatton had already reeled him into their conversation. Lord Farley took this opportunity to slip away, following in the direction he had seen Miss Becker disappear.
It was not for her sake he had stopped Lord Brightby. He was actually not entirely sure of why he had done it, but now that it was done, he better find the intoxicated girl before anyone else. And who knows, maybe he could even squeeze his own bit of fun out of the situation.
It did not take long to find young Miss Becker; she had slipped into the first deserted hallway he checked. She was standing with her head against the stone wall, her hands bracing her on either side. For a moment Lord Farley's mind filled with the thought of simply stepping up behind her and taking her as she was. Her position against the wall certainly allowed for it. However, he pushed this thought aside, not here, not now.
"Are you feeling quite alright, Miss Becker?" he asked, placing a hand on her slight shoulder. She jumped at the contact, turning her head and looking up at him.
Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, and it took a breath before she could focus on him. When she did, her entire body tightened.
"Lord F-Farley, I-I don't..." she stammered, taking a few shaking steps back to get away from him.
"Miss Becker, you..." As he took one more step towards her, she tripped in her dress, falling to the floor on her behind.
Lord Farley cursed as her eyes went to the back of her head and she passed out. Lord Brightby must have given her way more of the draught than he had realised. He cursed again as he looked around in the hallway. Had he known she was this affected, he would not have followed her. He had hoped to tease her and maybe feel up her body when her inhibitions were down, but now he was stuck in a hallway with a passed-out lady. It would be a stain upon his reputation if they were found here; people would accuse him of being the one to spike her.
Lord Farley contemplated just leaving her here on the hard stone floor and rejoining the party. With a third curse, he decided against it, bending down to pick the young girl up in his hands. Her oversized gown made it harder than it had to be, but after a little struggle, he managed. She was not heavy, just cumbersome, he thought as he made his way down the hallway with the passed-out girl in his arms.
He had moved back to his actual quarters some days ago, and they were not too far away. He glanced back down the hallway; he could still hear the sounds of the ball in full swing, so he was not likely to run into anyone on the way. He looked down at the girl in his arms and felt a twinge in his breeches; maybe he could still have some fun with Miss Becker when she woke up.
