Oh, Darling!
Title: The incident in the library
Author: smeddley
Challenge #: 19
Rating: PG
Disclaimers: Um, just... "I'm sorry" ought to cover it.
She crept through the hallway, shielding the candle with her free hand. If any of the other guests caught her creeping around after hours there would be hell to pay, but she was bored to death of the house party and gossip and just wanted to curl up with a good book. When had it become so bloody fashionable for members of the ton to have week-long house parties, anyway?
Besides, she reasoned to herself, it’s not like she hadn’t tried to procure a book earlier in the evening. If the gentleman hadn’t staked out the library as a men-only lounge, she’d be snug in her bed right now, reading comfortably in the safety of her own room. She wouldn’t be creeping about the hallway, worried about her reputation for the sake of a book! A board creaked in the hall to her right and she started, ready to dart back up to her room. But she forced herself to take a slow, deep breath and edged forward once again. Just a little further and she’d be in the library.
The sound came again, closer this time, and she darted into the massive, dark library. Standing close to the door, she heard men’s voices coming down the hallway. Quickly, she blew out the candle and raced around to the back side of the huge oak desk. A moment later, the door opened and the library was illuminated with a dull glow. She scrunched herself as far down under the desk as she could.
“Blackwell,” a man said urgently, “I’m sorry to disturb you at such a late hour, and here of all places, but this couldn’t wait.” The voice was gruff, and while the speech had a polished air she could hear a faint, coarse accent.
“That’s all right, Matthew, if it’s about The Black Medusa, it’s important.” Blackwell’s voice was low but powerful. She struggled to place the name. It was familiar, but…
“It is indeed, sir, we have news of a shipment in a week’s time. She’s to be anchoring off Coventry Point, and the men will row the cargo to the caves beneath Mulberry Hill. I assume you’ll be sailing with her when she heads back out?”
Smuggling? Her head spun. They were talking about smuggling? She knew Mulberry Hill, the crumbling old mansion on the coast. Her family summered in a cottage on the next property, and she’d explored the ruins as a child. She’d even been in the very caves they were discussing. Blackwell chuckled softly, and suddenly she remembered who he was.
“I do indeed. I’ve been on land too long. I have a few things to take care of first, but I’ll be in time to sail with the tide.”
Matthew murmured assent and she heard the door close after him. A chill went down her spine as she realized that she was in a library, unchaperoned, in the middle of the night with James St. Irving, the Earl of Blackwell. He may be the most eligible bachelor in all of society, but mothers still herded their daughters away from him at parties. His reputation was so bad that even the title - and fortune that came with it - wasn’t enough to entice any but the most desperate matrons to foist their marriageable daughters upon him. And on top of it, she’d just heard evidence that he was involved in… well, something. She couldn’t be sure it was smuggling, but what else could it possibly be?
She heard him moving about the room, rustling papers on the top of the desk, and prayed he didn’t come around to the other side. She pictured him, his tall muscular frame bent over the desk, a frown on his handsome face. Well, she thought him handsome, despite the scar that ran across his check and the almost permanent scowl he wore. But then, she grinned despite herself, she’d always been attracted to dangerous men. No wonder she couldn’t find a man she wanted to marry amidst the powdered and dandified ton.
At least he didn’t know she was here. If only he’d move on before the cramp in her leg got any worse! She bit back a groan and winced as she tried to shift slightly without making any noise. Above her she heard the faint scratching of quill on parchment.
“Lady Elizabeth,” his voice said softly, and she jumped so hard her head hit the underside of the desk. She crawled out from under the desk and looked up to find him staring at her, a bemused smile on his face.
She felt her heart skip a beat. If he’d been handsome with a scowl, he was devastating when he smile. Shakily, she got to her feet and drew her up to her full five feet.
“Yes?” she asked haughtily, as if she had every right to be hiding under a library desk in the middle of the night.
“It seems unfortunate that you should have chosen this evening to… what, exactly, were you doing?”
“I was looking for a book,” she said stiffly, craning her neck to look him in the eye.
“Ah, yes, I hear Lord Kensington keeps quite a collection of novels under his desk,” he said sardonically.
“Well, I… I…” she broke off, biting her lip.
He waved away her explanation. “It matters not why you are here, but you are, and that has put me in a bit of a bind. I can’t have you talking about what you heard here tonight, even though it wasn’t enough to prove anything.”
“I… I didn’t hear anything, milord,’ she said stubbornly.
He laughed again. “I admire your courage, I do.” His face softened. “And I am sorry.”
“For what?” she asked cautiously, as he started moving towards her. She backed up until she bumped into the desk, and he followed her, stopping when he was but inches from her. She stared at the broad expanse of his chest, then tilted her head up to look into his eyes. There was a hint of sadness there, and she felt her stomach drop.
“What…” her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat, “what are you sorry for?”
He reached up and caressed her check with one hand. She felt dizzy and put her hand on his chest to steady herself. She felt the muscles leap beneath her fingertips, and unconsciously she leaned into him. His mouth was creased into a hard frown, but his eyes were still gentle, roaming over her face.
“You’re the perfect one - I need you, and with your parents… this is the only way. I only hope… I only hope it works out.”
She frowned back at him now, more confused by his words than anything. “Me? Perfect?” Her lips twisted in a unhappy smile. Then she heard men’s voices in the hallway and she tried to pull away. “I need to hide.”
“No, I’m sorry,” he said, holding her tight. He leaned down and as his lips inched closed to hers, the library door swung open.
“I say!” cried a chorus of voices.
“Elizabeth!” a shocked voice she recognized as her father’s cried out.
“Father, I…” she looked bewildered.
Blackwell stepped forward, thrusting her slightly behind him. “Sir, I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but the truth is, your daughter and I wish to wed. Certainly you agree that under these circumstances, a quick wedding is the desirable thing. I have already procured a special license.”
“We’re... wait, we… what?” she asked shakily.
Blackwell turned and smiled down at her. “Married, love. We’re getting married.”
Author: smeddley
Challenge #: 19
Rating: PG
Disclaimers: Um, just... "I'm sorry" ought to cover it.
She crept through the hallway, shielding the candle with her free hand. If any of the other guests caught her creeping around after hours there would be hell to pay, but she was bored to death of the house party and gossip and just wanted to curl up with a good book. When had it become so bloody fashionable for members of the ton to have week-long house parties, anyway?
Besides, she reasoned to herself, it’s not like she hadn’t tried to procure a book earlier in the evening. If the gentleman hadn’t staked out the library as a men-only lounge, she’d be snug in her bed right now, reading comfortably in the safety of her own room. She wouldn’t be creeping about the hallway, worried about her reputation for the sake of a book! A board creaked in the hall to her right and she started, ready to dart back up to her room. But she forced herself to take a slow, deep breath and edged forward once again. Just a little further and she’d be in the library.
The sound came again, closer this time, and she darted into the massive, dark library. Standing close to the door, she heard men’s voices coming down the hallway. Quickly, she blew out the candle and raced around to the back side of the huge oak desk. A moment later, the door opened and the library was illuminated with a dull glow. She scrunched herself as far down under the desk as she could.
“Blackwell,” a man said urgently, “I’m sorry to disturb you at such a late hour, and here of all places, but this couldn’t wait.” The voice was gruff, and while the speech had a polished air she could hear a faint, coarse accent.
“That’s all right, Matthew, if it’s about The Black Medusa, it’s important.” Blackwell’s voice was low but powerful. She struggled to place the name. It was familiar, but…
“It is indeed, sir, we have news of a shipment in a week’s time. She’s to be anchoring off Coventry Point, and the men will row the cargo to the caves beneath Mulberry Hill. I assume you’ll be sailing with her when she heads back out?”
Smuggling? Her head spun. They were talking about smuggling? She knew Mulberry Hill, the crumbling old mansion on the coast. Her family summered in a cottage on the next property, and she’d explored the ruins as a child. She’d even been in the very caves they were discussing. Blackwell chuckled softly, and suddenly she remembered who he was.
“I do indeed. I’ve been on land too long. I have a few things to take care of first, but I’ll be in time to sail with the tide.”
Matthew murmured assent and she heard the door close after him. A chill went down her spine as she realized that she was in a library, unchaperoned, in the middle of the night with James St. Irving, the Earl of Blackwell. He may be the most eligible bachelor in all of society, but mothers still herded their daughters away from him at parties. His reputation was so bad that even the title - and fortune that came with it - wasn’t enough to entice any but the most desperate matrons to foist their marriageable daughters upon him. And on top of it, she’d just heard evidence that he was involved in… well, something. She couldn’t be sure it was smuggling, but what else could it possibly be?
She heard him moving about the room, rustling papers on the top of the desk, and prayed he didn’t come around to the other side. She pictured him, his tall muscular frame bent over the desk, a frown on his handsome face. Well, she thought him handsome, despite the scar that ran across his check and the almost permanent scowl he wore. But then, she grinned despite herself, she’d always been attracted to dangerous men. No wonder she couldn’t find a man she wanted to marry amidst the powdered and dandified ton.
At least he didn’t know she was here. If only he’d move on before the cramp in her leg got any worse! She bit back a groan and winced as she tried to shift slightly without making any noise. Above her she heard the faint scratching of quill on parchment.
“Lady Elizabeth,” his voice said softly, and she jumped so hard her head hit the underside of the desk. She crawled out from under the desk and looked up to find him staring at her, a bemused smile on his face.
She felt her heart skip a beat. If he’d been handsome with a scowl, he was devastating when he smile. Shakily, she got to her feet and drew her up to her full five feet.
“Yes?” she asked haughtily, as if she had every right to be hiding under a library desk in the middle of the night.
“It seems unfortunate that you should have chosen this evening to… what, exactly, were you doing?”
“I was looking for a book,” she said stiffly, craning her neck to look him in the eye.
“Ah, yes, I hear Lord Kensington keeps quite a collection of novels under his desk,” he said sardonically.
“Well, I… I…” she broke off, biting her lip.
He waved away her explanation. “It matters not why you are here, but you are, and that has put me in a bit of a bind. I can’t have you talking about what you heard here tonight, even though it wasn’t enough to prove anything.”
“I… I didn’t hear anything, milord,’ she said stubbornly.
He laughed again. “I admire your courage, I do.” His face softened. “And I am sorry.”
“For what?” she asked cautiously, as he started moving towards her. She backed up until she bumped into the desk, and he followed her, stopping when he was but inches from her. She stared at the broad expanse of his chest, then tilted her head up to look into his eyes. There was a hint of sadness there, and she felt her stomach drop.
“What…” her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat, “what are you sorry for?”
He reached up and caressed her check with one hand. She felt dizzy and put her hand on his chest to steady herself. She felt the muscles leap beneath her fingertips, and unconsciously she leaned into him. His mouth was creased into a hard frown, but his eyes were still gentle, roaming over her face.
“You’re the perfect one - I need you, and with your parents… this is the only way. I only hope… I only hope it works out.”
She frowned back at him now, more confused by his words than anything. “Me? Perfect?” Her lips twisted in a unhappy smile. Then she heard men’s voices in the hallway and she tried to pull away. “I need to hide.”
“No, I’m sorry,” he said, holding her tight. He leaned down and as his lips inched closed to hers, the library door swung open.
“I say!” cried a chorus of voices.
“Elizabeth!” a shocked voice she recognized as her father’s cried out.
“Father, I…” she looked bewildered.
Blackwell stepped forward, thrusting her slightly behind him. “Sir, I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but the truth is, your daughter and I wish to wed. Certainly you agree that under these circumstances, a quick wedding is the desirable thing. I have already procured a special license.”
“We’re... wait, we… what?” she asked shakily.
Blackwell turned and smiled down at her. “Married, love. We’re getting married.”