Chapter 9

Definitions:Maunch A Kingdom level award that the Royalty gives to members of the Society who have shown exceptional talent in the field of arts & sciences. For more information about rank, titles and customs in the SCA, go here.

Sunday, March 11, 2001

Elizabeth woke up disoriented. It took her a minute to remember where she was. Netherfield, Charles' house. William.

It took her several more minutes to try to decide if her strange and foggy recollections were real or a dream. Had he kissed her in the kitchen? Yes, that she was sure of. She remembered him showing her the room she was in now, that was all right.

But had he snuck in as she slept, and . . . OH! She looked down at herself. She was wearing a grimy t-shirt, not a lace trimmed silken nightgown, so it was a fair bet that what she had remembered was just a dream. But what a dream! He had entered her room and stood watching her, his eyes dark and smoldering. Elizabeth had grown hot under his gaze, and began to run her hands over her body, in an attempt to lure him closer. She remembered she was successful, as he had boldly moved to the bed, forcefully pulling off her bedclothes to stare at her body, clad only in a virginal white nightgown.

Then he dropped to the bed and kissed her, hard, ravishing her mouth frantically. Elizabeth remembered feeling powerless beneath the heat of his desire. She had moaned softly as he pulled away from her mouth, to suckle the nipple his hand had been teasing through her gown. Elizabeth had held his head against her, as waves of fire scorched her. She remembered crying out his name, begging him to take her, when he had stopped, and looking into her eyes with that intense stare, he ripped the nightgown off of her and -

"LIZZY!"

Damn!

"Lizzy!" Jane called from the neighboring room, "Could you help me?"

Cursing a black streak, Elizabeth got up, put on her jeans and went to help Jane.

********

Jane was feeling much better. She could bear her weight on the injured ankle, but she still needed help getting around. Fortunately, Charles was perfectly willing to carry her from one part of the house to another.

Elizabeth didn't see William when she first came downstairs, but that was okay with her. Considering all the strain of yesterday, not to mention that deeply disturbing dream, she was perfectly willing to have a little space between them.

The reason for his absence became clear when she heard the front door shut and he appeared carrying a grocery bag. "I went to get breakfast," he said simply, while looking carefully at Liz.

Elizabeth rose from her chair and followed him into the kitchen. There she helped him unpack a bag of fresh bagels and cream cheese spreads, some doughnuts and a long strip of danish. "I wasn't sure what you and your sister liked," he said shyly. "Will this do?"

Liz looked over the bounty and smiled. "Hey, if I don't have to cook it, it's fine! This looks great."

"But you like cooking," he was confused.

"Yes, but not all the time. Sometimes I like to be pampered." Liz fixed a plain bagel with strawberry cream cheese and got a glass of milk. "Could you take this to Jane?" she asked Will.

"Sure," he answered, still confused.

Elizabeth toasted an onion bagel for herself while he was away and got herself some coffee. She smiled as she heard Jane enthusiastically thanking William. That was why she had set him up. Jane was much better at thanking people than she was, and William deserved a pat on the back for his thoughtfulness.

His cheeks were red when he came back into the kitchen. Liz grinned knowingly at him as she spread chive cream cheese on her warm bagel. "She liked it?"

"She was very grateful." He looked embarrassed, much to Liz's delight.

"This was very kind of you," she said warmly, "thanks."

William's blush got deeper. 'What? Is he this unfamiliar with being thanked? or is it something else?' she wondered.

"Jane seems to be doing better, " he commented as he got himself some coffee.

"Yes, we'll be going home soon."

"I'm glad to hear that," he said with obvious relief.

Elizabeth's eyes flared.

'OH Shit!' "Not that I want you to leave, um, I'm just glad that Jane's better."

'Kitchen girl' burned in her ears. It didn't matter what William said, she knew what he meant. 'Not to worry, William Darcy, we'll be out of your hair as soon as possible!' "Excuse me," she said coldly and left the kitchen.

William closed his eyes and resisted the urge to pound his head into the wall. He could hear Caroline's voice coming closer and bolted to the safety of his makeshift office.

'Damn! Can't she see? I only meant . . . ! Damn!' his thoughts were punctuated by curses as he privately berated himself. 'Brilliant Darcy, fucking brilliant. Make out with the girl, then throw her out of the house.'

His head hurt as he sat down and tried to think of a remedy to the situation.

****

It was noon when Charles carried Jane to the Volvo. "You're sure you will be okay?" he asked her tenderly.

"I'll be fine," she said, gently putting a hand on his. "I'm going to take tomorrow off and by Tuesday, I'll be as good as new."

Charles smiled at her. "I really enjoyed watching you ride yesterday."

Elizabeth was loading their bags into the car while trying to avoid overhearing her sister and Charles. Then William's deep voice stopped her.

"Elizabeth?" He was suddenly behind her, reappearing for the first time since after breakfast.

"Yes?" she said. 'What now?' She just wanted to leave!

"I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you?" he said seriously. "I ripped the shoulder of the cotehardie that I want to wear to Coronation. Do you think that maybe you could fix it for me?" his voice was tight and quiet. "I'd ask my sister, but I'm not sure that I'll see her between now and then." He looked into her eyes, and said quickly, "If it's any bother I can wear something else."

He looked so sorry that Elizabeth realized she was being too harsh on the man. "No, it's okay," she said, smiling briefly. "I'll do it."

William looked relieved. "I could come over to your place. Maybe next weekend?"

She frowned thoughtfully. "No, that's no good. I'm working at the shop on Saturday and we're going to my mom's for Sunday dinner. What about the Saturday after that?"

William nodded. "That would be perfect." He stepped closer to her. "I really did enjoy your company yesterday," he was struggling. 'Please, please understand!'

Elizabeth smiled politely at him. "Thank you. It has been . . . interesting." She got into her car and William went to stand beside Charles, his dark shadow in the spring sunlight. The girls waved to them in farewell and left for home.

"Oh, Jane," Elizabeth sighed wearily, "Except for your fine Mr. Bingley, I don't think I've ever been so happy to go home."

*****

Saturday, March 24, 2001

Elizabeth had spent the last two weeks trying to figure out William. Why was this rich, successful hunk of a man wanting to see her? And Elizabeth was pretty sure he wanted to see her. Coronation wasn't that close, and she had learned through Jane that William went back to Boston every two to three weeks.

Even if his sister was unavailable to sew, he could hire a seamstress, couldn't he? Elizabeth strongly suspected that William had asked for her assistance so he could see her alone. That thought made her hands shake and her stomach do the mamba, so she tried (unsuccessfully) not to think about it much.

But she was prepared. She would be polite and professional and friendly. She was not going to act like an idiot girl and fawn all over his fantastic body. She would just be herself.

Elizabeth was enjoying some computer time on that Saturday morning when her doorbell rang. Elizabeth quickly checked her hair in the mirror, 'Was she okay?' She had tried to dress nicely, but not so nicely that he would notice. 'GAH!' Doorbell again!

Rushing to the door she opened it to find him waiting patiently. "Hi Elizabeth," he said. His mouth wasn't smiling, but his eyes were. William drank in the sight of her. Elizabeth was wearing a black scoop neck shirt with 3/4 length sleeves that hugged her curves nicely, and faded blue jeans. On her feet were high black boots, but he was most pleased to see that her hair was completely loose, and like in his fantasy, it hung around her pretty face like a dark cloud.

"Hi, Will!" she said quickly. 'Calm down,' she coached herself. 'Breath, don't look into his eyes, good' "Would you please come in," she said calmly. Elizabeth tried very hard not to whimper as he passed by her. He was wearing a dark green polo shirt, black Dockers, and a black leather jacket that she just wanted to peel off of him. 'Oh god!' she drooled, 'He is soooooo gorgeous!'

"Thank you," he said with a shy smile, entering her apartment. Her home was a high end condo that she and Jane rented. The door opened to a large sunny living room that was finished in hand-me-down furniture that had been slipcovered to match. Elizabeth led him through the room, and down a short hallway in to a small bedroom that was used for sewing. William was intrigued to note that the boots Elizabeth was wearing didn't make her any taller, but seemed to have a very pleasant effect on her ass when she walked.

William unzipped the garment bag he was carrying to reveal a cotehardie with his arms appliquéd onto it. Elizabeth took a moment to examine the needlework. "Did your sister make this?"

He nodded.

Elizabeth whistled. "I would love to meet her. This is beautiful." She smiled at William. "She is very talented. Does she go to many events?"

William looked uncomfortable. "No, only in the summer, really. Um, she's shy, and has a lot of trouble meeting people, so she only attends when she can be with me."

Elizabeth nodded understandingly, "There are a lot of shy people in the society. People seem to be either shy, or you can't get them to stop talking." She held up the garment to find a rip on the left arm's eye seam. "How did you do this?"

William looked like a little boy caught playing in his Sunday best. "I was demonstrating a fighting move."

"Thought so," she grinned archly. "Could you put this on? I'd like to check the fit," she handed it back to him. "I'll wait outside." She exited the room, closed the door and leaning against it, she took a deep breath and blew it out. She had forgotten the power of the 'Darcy sexual magnetism' he had over her. She was torn between throwing open the door and jumping him, and running away. Good sense kept her where she was and in a minute the door opened.

Elizabeth entered and felt her stomach drop. 'Oh my!' Will's sister had done a good job. The cotehardie fit him like a glove, showing off his shoulders and chest to their best advantage. 'Steady girl!' she though as she smiled professionally. "Okay, let me see here."

She turned him away from her and examined the seam. It was popped almost all the way to the shoulder seam. When she tried pulling it together, it wouldn't budge. "Hmm, Will, when was this made for you?" said asked.

"Last year. For Twelfth Night. Why?"

"Have you gained weight since then?"

"No," he said coldly.

'Damn!' "I mean, is it possible that your shoulders have gotten bigger since then? Have you been working out?"

She felt him relax. 'Bingo! Gotta assuage that male ego' "Yes, I have been," he answered proudly. "Why?"

"Oh, your shoulders are broader. I'm going to have to take some of the seams out, otherwise you'll just rip open the seam again." 'And they say women are vain' "Hold still, I need to mark here." Elizabeth was enjoying running her hands over his strong back, feeling his muscles in a most intimate fashion, but she was careful to keep it to herself. "Okay, let me help you out of this. I've put some pins in it, and I don't want to stick you. "

William quickly undid the gold buttons running up the front of the garment and eased it off his shoulders into Elizabeth's hands. 'Holy Cats!' Elizabeth had to remember to shut her mouth as she watched his bare back moving. 'It's like watching molten honey. Muscular molten honey.'

The show ended as William pulled his shirt back on and Elizabeth turned away to hide her red cheeks. Grabbing her seam ripper, she took William back to the living room and asked him to have a seat. "If you have something you need to do, you can go now," she said casually.

"No, I'll stay, if that's all right with you," he said easily, settling into a seat near her. "How long will it take?"

"Oh, this?" She frowned. "I just have to take out these seams and put them back together. It shouldn't take more than a half hour, at the most."

She started her work and tried to continue their conversation. "It's a good thing your sister left plenty of seam allowance. She's an excellent seamstress."

William nodded, "Yes, she loves to sew, and seems to have a gift for it."

"Where does she live?"

"In Boston. She attends Boston College and lives at home with me."

"Oh, I didn't realize she was still a student," she nodded as she ripped open the seams. "How old is she?"

"She just turned eighteen."

"And you are?" she asked surprised.

"Twenty eight," he answered pleasantly.

"That's quite an age gap," she observed. "Are you two close?"

"Yes, very," he smiled slightly. "She's one of the reasons I've been traveling back and forth to Boston. I like to be with her as much as I can."

Elizabeth got the idea there was something more here, but she wasn't going to push. "Well, if you want you can wait in here, I have to use my machine now, or you can come with me."

William followed her in to the sewing room. Elizabeth quickly matched her thread to the royal blue of the cotehardie and wound the bobbin of her Elna.

William was content to watch her carefully working, focused on her task and ignoring him. She was so beautiful, her hands moving along the fabric, carefully smoothing and guiding it under the machine, her fine eyes intent on her work. In minutes she was done, trimming away the loose threads and ironing the new seams flat. "Here, try it on," she said, handing it too him.

He slipped off his shirt and slid into the cotehardie, fastening the buttons as Elizabeth moved behind him to check her work.

"Looks good," she said. "What do you think? Does it feel too tight?"

"It's perfect." He caught his reflection in the mirror and noticed not his garment, but the hunger in her eyes as she stood behind him. It gave him something to think about. So she is feeling it too? This energy that seemed to flow between them, burning him every time he touched her. He would definitely have to think about what this meant.

He took the cote off, thanked her and replaced it in the garment bag before putting his shirt back on. 'Is that a blush on her cheeks? Did she enjoy his little show?' He was careful not to let his face show that he had noticed.

He was following her once more towards the living room when she stopped in front of the window and stared outside.

"What?" he asked looking out the window with her. All he saw was his car.

"There's a Porsche out there," she said woodenly. "A Porsche, a Por-sche (using the english pronunciation) in front of my house."

William thanked his ancestors and all the gods he could think of, as he held out his key fob in front of her eyes and broke her trance by asking "Would you like a ride?"

Elizabeth's eyes snapped up to his. "You! That's your car?" Her voice was giddy with excitement, "Ohmygod! Can I look at it?" She was out of the door before he even nodded. Smiling he followed her. He had never seen a girl get this excited about a car before.

"This is a Millennium 911!" she gasped as she bent low over the car, then straightened and bounced on her toes.

"It is? Thank you for telling me," he teased as he grinned at her.

She winked her cute little nose at his comment and got even closer. "Look! Violet chromaFlair exterior paint! See, it changes from black, to dark green, to dark violet, depending on the light!"

She was clearly delighted and William was frankly surprised. "You sound like you know quite a bit about the car."

Elizabeth shrugged. "Some girls have Vogue and Cosmo for their bedside reading, I happen to have Car & Driver." She continued to inspect the car. "And just like those girls who read Cosmo or Vogue don't expect to ever buy those designer gowns they read about there, I don't expect to ever buy a top quality sports car. But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy one when I see it."

He laughed at her, shaking his head in amazement.

"What?" she asked indigently, "I'm no saint. I'm allowed to be seduced by fast cars as much as the next person."

William couldn't argue with that, so he gave up. Hitting a button on the fob, he told her "Get in."

Elizabeth giggled delightedly as she sat in the car and William started the motor. With a deep sigh of pleasure, she closed her eyes as they started to move, letting the revving of the engine move though her body. "How fast have you taken it?" she had to ask.

William smiled tightly, "187 mph". As her eyes widened he added, "But that was on a track. On the highway I haven't gone over 120."

Elizabeth giggled again. She couldn't help it. It was a dream car. Heck it was a dream: gorgeous guy, gorgeous car! Why shouldn't she enjoy herself. She enjoyed the feeling of acceleration on her body as the car sped down the quiet back roads of Meryton.

"This has 4 wheel drive, right?" she asked excitedly.

"What did you do, memorize the specs on this?" he chuckled.

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug and with an embarrassed grin said, "I can't help it, it's one of my favorite fantasies."

"I guess you're not all just sewing and cooking," he observed, more to himself than her.

"I never said I was," she assured him.

He made a decision. She had no idea how much it was to her credit when he asked, "Can you drive a stick?"

She frowned in confusion. "Yes, of course." She was slightly insulted that he might think she wouldn't be able to drive her dream car. "I learned to drive on a standard."

He pulled into a large empty parking lot and said, "Would you care to give it a spin?" he asked with a long penetrating stare.

Elizabeth gasped for a second and then almost shouted "YES!"

They switched places, and William confidently explained all the controls to her. She took a test run around the parking lot a few times, then stopped and beamed at William. "This is great! Thank you!"

William smiled at her, "What, you think that's all? Think I'm going to deny you your fantasy?" he grinned as he nodded towards the road with his head. "Take her out!"

Elizabeth gave a happy squeal and pulled out into traffic. She made her way to the next town, then entered the Thruway. William grinned at her knowingly as soon as he saw her destination.

"Do you mind?" she asked timidly.

Shaking his head, he said, "Not at all."

He helped her run the car up the gears, saying, "Now," calmly at the right moment to shift. Elizabeth laughed delightedly when she reached sixth gear. "William! This is amazing!"

"I think so," he agreed, smiling. He leaned over to check the speedometer, "Can you keep it under ninety, Elizabeth?" he asked kindly.

"OH!" Elizabeth was shocked to see she was coming up on 100 mph. Immediately she back down off the pedal, until the car was cruising at 85. "I'm sorry," she apologized, "It's just, she's so much fun, you forget how fast you are going."

William watched her for a long moment, pondering the truth of her words. Then he turned on the stereo. Elizabeth beamed as U2's Elevation blasted out of the speakers and she sang boldly.

High, higher than the sun You shoot me from a gun I need you to elevate me here

A corner of your lips Is the orbit of your hips Eclipse You elevate my soul

William watched as she moved her shoulders and wiggled slightly to the song. "Do you always dance while you drive?" he asked smiling, his dimples showing.

Elizabeth looked at him and seeing his amusement, she laughed out loud at herself. "Yes, I'm afraid I do," she chuckled.

All too soon the sign for the Meryton exit came up. Elizabeth began to slow down. "Thank you for the ride. I guess I'll go back home now."

"Can't I take you to lunch?" he asked gently, "after all, you did do me a favor."

Elizabeth smiled shyly. "Where would you like to go?"

"Pick your favorite place," he said indulgently.

Elizabeth grinned and drove the Porsche through Meryton towards the riverside.

She parallel parked on the street expertly and together they entered the small restaurant. The sign over the door said "The Armadillo". The first room was dominated by a large L-shaped bar that had the usual shelves of liquor, but also what looked like a soft-serve ice cream machine.

"The ice cream machine is where they keep the frozen margaritas," Elizabeth told him as she walked confidently past the bar to the second room, where she was greeted by a young woman. Speaking softly, she secured one of the dozen tables in the dining room.

The room was decorated in soft southwestern colors and murals. Elizabeth picked up her menu and looked over it into William's eyes. "Do you trust me?" she asked with mock seriousness.

"I let you drive my car, didn't I?" he replied, his deep voice warmed with amusement at her question.

"Okay, You're not allergic to shell-fish or anything?"

He shook his head no, then asked "How is the steak?"

Elizabeth nodded encouragingly, "Excellent. It's Jane's favorite."

When the waitress appeared and Elizabeth ordered a frozen margarita, with salt, a chicken chimichanga, and a large order of shrimp stuffed jalapenos to share. William fixed her with a dubious eye and ordered the steak fajita and a margarita, no salt.

"So, how did you get into the SCA?" she asked comfortably as their drinks arrived.

"I found it when I was in college, with Charles."

Elizabeth nodded at the familiar answer. Many people found the SCA while they were in school. "That's right, you told me his sister took you to your first events."

"You?" William asked.

Elizabeth fixed him with a 'long story' look and said, "When I was in school, I hated going home during my summer breaks. Too many sisters. One summer Jane was teaching at an equestrian camp, and there was no way I was going to be stuck at home without her, so I spent the time in Boston with my aunt and uncle. They had just had a new baby and needed the help, and I needed a place to hide." She shrugged. "Anyway, my aunt and uncle had been members for years and brought me to some events that summer. When I came back to New Paltz, I got involved with the Barony around here."

William's eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute, you got into the SCA in Boston? How did I miss you? What year was that?"

Elizabeth thought a moment. "Um, 1995, I think," she thought more, "yes, that was it, between my sophomore and junior year of college."

"Oh, I see," William nodded. "I was at Stanford them. That's how I missed you."

"Stanford University?"

"Yes, I got my MBA there."

They were interrupted by the arrival of the appetizer. These were jumbo shrimp that had been shelled and stuck into a whole jalapeno. The whole thing was then batter dipped and deep fried. It was the most phallic thing William had seen in a long time.

"Be careful," Elizabeth warned as she dipped one in a dish of sour cream, "they're hot." She lifted the whole thing to her mouth and bit the end off.

William's eyes flared involuntarily, then he gamely picked one up. "Temperature hot, or spicy hot?" he asked.

"Both," Elizabeth answered carefully around her food.

William tried it, and was surprised. It was remarkably delicious. He quickly snarffed another one.

"Where did you do your undergrad work?" Elizabeth asked as they ate.

"Oh, a small college in Cambridge. You've probably never heard of it," he said between bites, "MIT?"

Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, then froze, realizing she'd been had. "Did you just make a joke?"

William's eyes danced.

"Did William, no-middle-name, Darcy just make a joke?" Elizabeth teased.

"I have a middle name," he said softly.

"Oh?" Elizabeth waited.

"Don't make fun of it." he said.

"Come on, you let me drive you car. I'll be good," she promised.

"It's Marshall."

Elizabeth's eyebrows came together. "William Marshall?"* She refrained from laughing. "Who named you that?"

William relaxed, pleased she hadn't laughed. "My mother."

"'The Flower of Chivalry' huh? That's pretty unusual."

William shrugged. "My mother was a romantic. She would have loved the society," he said with a sad smile.

Elizabeth's expression dropped. "I don't mean to pry, but I can't help but notice you are using the past tense with her."

He nodded. "She died when I was 15," he said quietly.

Elizabeth touched his hand. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you." He acknowledge her sympathy and continued. "Bingley's mom died 8 months after mine. That's how we became friends at prep school."

"Oh, I was wondering." At William's questioning look she explained. "You two seem so different. He's so outgoing, and you're so . . . not."

William nodded, conceding her point. "We are really different in some ways, I guess. But we both have a similar family backgrounds and careers and interests." He picked up some of his food. "You and Jane are pretty different, but you seem pretty close."

Liz agreed, "Yes, that's true. I'm Jane's number one fan."

William privately thought Charles might dispute that, but instead asked, "Why is that?"

"Because she's so good!" she exclaimed. "She sweet and kind and beautiful and such a better person than me."

William's eyes studied her. "I don't know about that. Jane is certainly very beautiful, but I don't think she is better than you." He paused for another bite, "After all, you don't think Charles is better then me, do you?"

Elizabeth's eyes glittered, "Of course I do!"

"Why?" he demanded, his face curious.

"Because Jane likes him," she laughed. "It's my clear criteria for men."

"Oh, so you are saying I have to steal your sister away from my best friend in order to be better than him?" he teased.

"No," Elizabeth laughed at the idea. "I don't think you could do that."

"Oh, why not." He leaned forward and wiggled his eyebrows. "I can be pretty convincing at times," he leered playfully.

Elizabeth laughed so hard tears were welling up in her eyes. "No, no. I'm sorry. You're just not her type. It would never happen," she choked out, then took a sip of water.

William looked pleased. "Well, I'll have to settle for being second best, because frankly, Jane is not my type either."

Elizabeth saw something in his eyes and got quiet very quickly. All of a sudden the tone had changed from playful laughter to desire and she didn't know how to handle it. William reached across the table and took her hand. Gazing at her with those powerful, dark eyes he asked softly. "I hope that's acceptable to you?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way," she breathed.

Elizabeth enjoyed the touch of his hand on hers and heat of his gaze until the moment was broken by the arrival of the check. William picked it up, looked at it briefly and pulled a gold card from his wallet. Elizabeth reached for the check, but he quickly moved it out of her reach. "Oh no. This is mine. It's your payment for your fine repair work."

"I know," Elizabeth assured him. "Trust me, I wasn't offering." She smiled to take the edge off her words. "I was just curious to see what the total was."

William kept the small folder out of her reach and handed it back to the waitress. "None of your business," he scolded. "Can't a man take a beautiful lady out to lunch without her being all over the bill?"

Elizabeth paused a moment. Her cheeks turned pink with his compliment. 'He thinks I'm beautiful!' "What would you like to do next?" she asked trying to stay calm.

"That depends on you, my lady," he said graciously. "Do you need to go home, or may I have the pleasure of your company for a while longer?"

Elizabeth smiled brilliantly. "I have no plans."

Together they rose and left the restaurant. Rather than go right back to the Porsche, she asked him, "Could I show you something?"

He nodded and let her lead him to the end of the block were a suspension bridge stood to the right. Crossing the street, they walked along the length of bridge's walkway. "This bridge was built in 1922 by the Roebling company."

"The man who built the Brooklyn bridge?" he asked.

Elizabeth nodded, pleased that her guess that he would appreciate this fact was correct. "The men who built the Brooklyn Bridge," she corrected him.

"Yes, the father started it, but died very early on, so his son continued and finished it, right?"

"Right," she added, "with the help of his wife."

He paused in his walking to look at the seven stories tall suspension towers. "It's amazing to me how these bridges are still standing and in use." He looked at her and explained. "I tend to think of everything in our culture being disposable and having a limited use life."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It's kind of . . . " she paused, looking for the right word, "comforting to know this has been around so long."

He smiled in understanding. "What is this river we are over?"

"That's the Rondout creek. It meets the Hudson in about a mile, that way," she pointed in front of them, "and going that way, it used to be part of the Rondout-Delaware canal, connecting the Hudson and Delaware rivers."

He smiled at her.

"What?" she asked curious.

"Nothing, you just know so much about your home," he said softly.

She shrugged. "It my addiction. History, I can't help it," she said honestly, "I know it's weird, but I just find this stuff interesting."

"It is interesting," he asserted. "Much more interesting than the garbage on TV." He looked at her thoughtfully. "I don't think your weird."

Elizabeth continued walking. "So, how long have you been a knight?"

William noticed her changing the topic away from herself, but was not uncomfortable with it. "Almost 4 years now," he answered. "I was knighted at the Great Northern War by Brion and Anna."

She smiled, "They gave me my award of arms," She thought a moment, "that must have been the same reign." Looking at him archly, she asked, "Is Brion one of those kings who hits his knight really hard?"**

William grinned, remembering, "Well, normally, he's not."

"But in your case?"

William laughed. "He nailed me! I even had Charles bracing me on one side and we both just fell right over."

Elizabeth laughed at the idea of both men being knocked over like sacks of potatoes.

"I noticed that you don't have a Maunch. Are you apprenticed to anyone?" William asked.

She shook her head. "No, I'm not interested in an apprenticeship and all that."

"Aren't you ambitious?" he asked.

"No," she said plainly. "I cook and I sew because it gives me pleasure, not for any award. If someone happens to notice my work, and wants to recognize me, then I'll be grateful, but I'm not going to play any games or kiss up to someone, just to be a peer."

"You don't think a peerage is worth it?"

She fixed him with her eye, "I don't think peers should act in that way." She released him and walked on, "besides, my ambition is to be happy." She softened her tone, "Does that shock you?"

"On the contrary, I think it is extremely honest," his eyes looked away, "It's something in very short supply, I find."

Elizabeth pondered his words. Once again, she wasn't quite sure what he was thinking. Was he disappointed that she wasn't going after a peerage? Was he looking down on her? Did he approve of her? She didn't know.

They walked beside the Rondout. She told him of the place's history. The steamship factory that used to be there, the trolley museum, the lighthouse, the old ships that visited regularly. She noticed that he never tried to hold her hand, and wasn't sure if it was a sign of his regard for her, or lack there of. After a couple hours of walking, talking, and gazing into shop windows, she guided him back to the Porsche, still sitting in front of the restaurant.

She laughed as he made her get in and move the seat back, before he took the wheel, joking at their differences in height. Their conversation was easy and comfortable. She had shared much about herself and her family, learning a little about him in return, but not much. She enjoyed his company, yet Elizabeth still didn't know where she stood with him and that bothered her.

Soon they were back at her condo. She was pleased to see Jane's car in the lot. She walked in through the unlocked door with William, still laughing and talking pleasantly and then she froze.

Jane and Charles were on the couch again, but this time they were horizontal and Charles' hand was sliding out from under her shirt. "Jane! Um, a, Charles, um." Turning very red, Elizabeth strode away into the kitchen. William was behind her as she mechanically got a glass of water from the sink.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, just surprised," she sipped. "Jane usually doesn't . . . I mean, I'm not used to . . ." She gave up and drank some more water.

William's eyes were dark and shaded, revealing nothing, but if you happened to look at his fists, you would have noticed they were curled tightly.

Jane and Charles were moving around, quickly putting themselves back together and apologizing between nervous giggles from the living room.

Elizabeth put her cup down and walked with William to the sewing room. "Let me get your garb for you," she said quietly.

William said nothing, but when they got into the relative privacy of the room, he put his hands on her upper arms and leaned down to kiss her deeply, while holding her tight. Elizabeth closed her eyes, and surrendered to his kiss, letting her thoughts fall away.

He pulled her closer, wrapping his powerful arms around her shoulders, imprisoning her there. Elizabeth's hands rested on his chest as she tilted her head to get better access to his mouth.

He moaned softly, as he teased her lips and tongue, tasting her sweetness. She could feel the firmness of his body against her. She pulled herself closer, grasping at his shirt, wanting more.

Then he slowly released her and backed away. His eyes were burning with raw desire and her lips still tingled from the pressure of his mouth. He struggled for something to say, then simply murmured, "Thank you" as he took his garment bag and walked away.

She heard him saying goodbye to Jane and Charles and the door closing behind him. Then Elizabeth faintly heard the sound of the Porsche's engine roaring to life, and fading away.

Feeling confused and rejected, Elizabeth went into her room, closed the door, sat on her bed and cried. Why had he left? What had she done? She had felt so good in his arms. His kiss was so exciting that her heart was still pounding in her chest, but now she was alone. He had left and she had no idea why.

*****

Darcy gunned the engine to over 60 mph on the twisting back roads to Netherfield. He pounded on the steering wheel savagely with his fist. "Damn it!" he roared. He was furious; At Charles, for how easily he had gotten close with Jane, at Jane, for the way her display with Charles had so upset Elizabeth, but mostly at himself. How could he have done that? "Damn it!" Their date had gone so well, and then he had totally lost control.

All he had wanted to do in that kitchen was carry Elizabeth off to her bedroom and fuck her all night. He had wondered in that bright, clean kitchen what her bedroom looked like. Was it girlish, all pink with a canopy and lace? Was it wild, with a leopard skin throw and mirrors and tiny lights? He wanted to know. He wanted to know what she was like under her clothes, under that polite shell. Oh, God! He wanted to make her scream beneath him and feel her nails clawing at his back.

His pounded the steering wheel again as he body boiled with frustration. "No! No! NO!" This was not right! It was going too fast! He wasn't going to do this again! Elizabeth was not going to be like every other girl he had slept with. He wasn't going to get hurt like that again. Oh, he wanted her, and he wanted her badly, but he didn't want to just fuck her, he wanted more, he wanted to possess her. If and when he took her sweet little body and made it his own, it would be for good. He was not going to let her disappear afterwards as quickly as his dreams did.

A cold feeling settled in his stomach as he realized how close he had come to really screwing up. Fear gripped him. He was afraid of Elizabeth, of the way he felt about her, of the way she made him feel. She made him feel so strong, so comfortable, so right. She had so much power over him already. It terrified him that she could rip his precious self-control away from him with one shapely little finger.

What if he had fucked her, like he so wanted to do? What would come afterwards? Would she want to see him again? To continue the relationship? What if she didn't? He wasn't sure which possibility scared him more. He only knew his groin was throbbing painfully and that he had almost made a huge mistake.

Lately I'm beginning to find that I should be the one behind the wheel

Incubus 'Drive'

** When a knight is made, he is ceremonially struck on the side of the head by the King, who says, "Let this be the last blow you receive unanswered." Most Kings strike the knight lightly, but, being a testosterone thing, some Kings really slam the guy.

Chapter 10

April 10, 2001

Elizabeth sat sullenly in her sister's car as they drove to the community center. She was not the kind of person to sulk, but right now, she was in a world of gloom. And that was making her even more unhappy. Elizabeth didn't act like this. She didn't get emotionally uptight. No, she was the type of person who let things just wash off her back, like a duck, not affecting her. Sailing on smoothly as possible through life, that was her.

But right now it wasn't her. For the last two weeks, she had been edgy and she hated it. She had found out through Jane that William had left for Boston the morning after their 'lunch date', and at least she had the comfort of knowing she did not have to worry about wandering in to him on the street. But now he was back in town, and he was going to be at the fighter practice, and Elizabeth would be damned before she let him keep her away!

But she still didn't want to see him.

"Tell me again, who is this guy we are supposed to meet?" she asked Jane tiredly knowing it was rude of her to have not paid attention to Jane previous three explanations.

"Bill Collins. He's a former colleague of father's," Jane answered. "He works in business now, and wanted to make some new friends, so mom suggested the Society to him."

Elizabeth frowned. She strongly suspected this was another one of her mother's matchmaking schemes. Besides, who ever heard of an economics professor entering into business?

Jane gave a happy little giggle as they entered the community center's parking lot. There was the blue Suburban and waiting beside it was Charles and his dark shadow. Elizabeth took a deep breath. 'Here goes nothing,' she thought.

She was expecting William's usual nod and his 'I'm not going to really acknowledge you' greeting. But she was surprised, instead he opened her door for her, and offered his hand to help her out of the small car.

Jane's door had been opened as well and Jane had happily leapt into Charles' arms as he called her "Angel" and swung her around.

"Elizabeth," William said, holding her back until Charles and Jane left. "I would like to talk to you," he said slowly, his voice low and tense.

Elizabeth waited, silently.

"About what happened, last time . . ." He stopped and his tongue quickly moistened his lower lip. "I wanted to try and explain."

Elizabeth would have blown him off, would have spun on her heel and walked away, if it weren't for the fact that his mask was gone. The look of superior indifference that usually graced his features had faded and instead she saw something real in his eyes: sorrow, worry, maybe even fear?

Elizabeth was many things, but she was not cruel, and she couldn't deny him this simple request. "I'm listening," she said gently.

"No," he shook his head. "Not here." He looked around the parking lot and back to her eyes. "Could we go someplace . . . private?" he asked. Then his eyes zoomed open. "I didn't mean . . . I meant, not like that! Just to talk! Really, I just need to talk to you."

'Oh my god!' she thought, 'he really is shy.' Elizabeth was careful not to smile at his discomfort, instead she asked kindly, "Would you like to get some ice cream?"

He looked at her, and she could see some of the tension easing from around his eyes. "I'd like that very much," he said sincerely.

"Now?" she suggested.

"No, we can go afterwards. I don't want you to miss your meeting." That was a decision he would curse for the rest of his days.

Together they walked into the hall. William was carrying his fighting gear, and Elizabeth carried a large cardboard box. They parted company, he went to the locker rooms, she went to the gathering of non-fighter types.

"Lizzy! over here!" she heard Lydia call. Elizabeth walked to a knot of people that consisted of Jane and Charles, Mary and Scott, Lydia and someone she thought was named Carter, and a short, fat, greasy looking man. Elizabeth was keenly aware that she was the only one not paired up. "Bill," Jane was saying pleasantly, "This is our sister, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth tried to be polite and smile as this toad of a man took her hand (which she hadn't offered) and yanked it up to his mouth, were he gave it a slobbery kiss. "Lady Elizabeth, I am delighted," he said magnanimously. "I am William Collins, Ph. D. But here, I suppose I will be know as Sir William."

'Over my dead body!' she thought. Jane saved Elizabeth from giving a harsh response. "No, I think you misunderstand, Mr. Collins. In the society, 'Sir' is a title reserved for the chivalry. Knighthood is a special honor that takes years to earn."

"It would be like someone with a associates degree calling themselves a Doctor." Elizabeth added glibly.

Jane continued. "In the society, 'lord' is the title that everyone shares. It's assumed that anyone joining would be of noble birth."

"Oh! Thank you so much, ladies," he gushed. "I would hate to make such an ignorant faux pas."

Jane was pulled away from the little circle by Charles, who then departed for the fighting. Not that 'Dr.' Collins noticed. He only had eyes for Elizabeth, whom he was examining like a horse he might consider buying.

Elizabeth flashed a polite smile and excused herself to a table, putting down the box. Unfortunately the toad followed.

"It was such a pleasure to visit your parents the other night, Lady Elizabeth. They are such lovely people." Elizabeth rolled her eyes before turning to face him. "I was telling your mother how, now that I have established myself in such a important and lucrative position, I find that I'm in need of companionship." He chortled. "Your mother immediately suggested this fine organization, saying it was just the place to find creative and intelligent people like myself." He stepped closer to Elizabeth and said softly, "I did not know that I would also find great beauty here as well."

Elizabeth fought the urge to nail her heel into his instep and instead, casually moved so that the table was between them. "Oh really? Tell me about your work." she asked, trying to get him off the topic of her.

He swelled like a balloon. "I am the personal assistant of the CEO of deBourgh Investments, Catherine DeBourgh herself. I know," he said with a wave of his hand, "Who would have ever thought that a person like myself, a scholar, who prizes academia above all else, would be in the halls of business?" He turned to her and fixed her with a fierce look. "Certainly not I, but Mrs. deBourgh insisted on having me. She demands the very best minds to work with her, for she will accept nothing less, and together, we have formed this symbiotic bond of ideas and thoughts," he stopped, realizing, perhaps, that he was bring carried away by enthusiasm.

"Yes, well, that sounds very . . .exciting," she observed.

"It is!" he assured her. "But now, I've found that I need something more than my work." He looked at her pointedly. "It's lonely coming home to a empty house, at the end of the day, no matter how lavish that home may be."

Elizabeth wondered idly as she looked around where the hidden cameras were. But then she recalled that Allen Funt was dead. "So, you're thinking about joining the society?"

"Yes, as you see. I come as a novice to be guided in your ways."

Elizabeth wanted to guide him out the door. Her eyes caught Charlotte's and she motioned her over. "Well, the next event coming up is Coronation on the 28th, in Connecticut. Charlotte!" she said brightly. "I'm so glad too see you," she indicated the toad. "This is Bill Collins."

"Uh, Dr. Collins," he interrupted.

"Dr. Collins, and he's thinking about joining the barony. I was telling him about Coronation." Mentally she was sending to Charlotte 'For the love of God don't leave me alone with this nut case.'

Charlotte seemed to get Lizzy's message, because she smiled and introduced herself to the freak. 'Charlotte is always so much better at dealing with crazy people', Elizabeth observed.

Charlotte talked pleasantly about Coronation and even lead Dr. Collins to her parents, who were pleased to meet him and welcome him to the Barony.

"Is he gone?" Lydia asked in a low voice when she returned.

"Yes," Elizabeth answered with relief. "Charlotte took him away."

Lydia came closer, shaking her head. "What a freak!"

"You got that right."

"You are so lucky you missed dinner with him."

Elizabeth nodded her head. She could only imagine what it must have been like. Her father would have been cleverly mocking everything the man said, so that he didn't even realize he was the object of ridicule, and her mother would be beside herself, fawning over a single man who was clearly looking for a wife. Oh yeah, she was so glad she had missed that dinner.

She must have sighed aloud, because Charlotte was there, saying "what?"

Elizabeth looked at her friend, "Nothing."

"Yeah, right" Charlotte looked at her disbelievingly. "What's on your mind, girlfriend?"

Elizabeth sat down on a chair and vented for a while. She told Charlotte about the lunch date, the porsche and how it had ended, then she told her about their encounter in the parking lot that evening.

"And?" Charlotte encouraged.

"I just don't know." Elizabeth shook her head. "I don't know what's going on, and it's making me crazy. I don't know if he thinks we are dating? If he likes me, or what?"

Charlotte looked at Elizabeth for a moment, "Then I'd say it's a good thing that you and he didn't go any further that Saturday."

Elizabeth rubbed her forehead, "I know. I've told myself the same thing, it's just, I would really like to know what's going on between us."

"So ask him" she shrugged. "Tonight sounds like an excellent time for you two to figure that out." She fixed Lizzy with a shrewd look, "Liz, how do you feel about him?"

Elizabeth now had both hands over her eyes. "I'm not sure Charlotte, I'm really not sure."

"Well, my friend," Charlotte said rising, "That I think, is something you need to work out, as well."

Elizabeth got up and walked with Charlotte to the table. Charlotte was right. Liz had been holding back with William, but how could she not? She never knew when the rug was going to be pulled out from under her. 'Tonight,' she thought, 'I will try and talk to him tonight.'

"So," Charlotte asked, "What do you think of Bill?"

"Bill?"

"Bill Collins"

"Oh" Elizabeth shrugged and made an icky face.

Charlotte smiled shyly. "Heis a little intense, isn't he."

Elizabeth just gave her a 'duh' look.

"But he seems nice," Charlotte continued.

"Nice, for a crazy person." Liz conceded.

"Lizzy!"

"I'm sorry Charlotte, this all just smells like another one of my mother's set ups."

Charlotte grinned, "And we all know how you feel about those."

Liz nodded. "I've just never met a man who suggested marriage to me so quickly."

"Well," Charlotte held up her hands, "At least you know what he wants."

Elizabeth laughed at the foolishness of the situation and busied herself by emptying the box she had carried in. Inside it was a pair of siege weapon models called trebuchet. These quickly gathered the attention of a small crowd.

"Catapults?" a pleasant tenor voice asked.

"Like catapults." Elizabeth looked up from what she was doing, into a pair of beautiful blue eyes. "These are trebuchet."

The eyes were a part of a very nice face. He had lightly tanned skin that complemented his eyes perfectly. His nose and mouth were small, and he had a small mustache and goatee. His hair was long and white blond, pulled back into a ponytail. He was maybe 6 ft tall, with a fit, yet light build. The first coherent thought that came into Elizabeth's mind was 'surfer dude', and indeed, he looked like he belonged in southern California, rather than in the Hudson valley of New York State.

"Lizzy, this is Carter's friend Olivier." Lydia announced happily. "Lord Olivier, this is my sister Lizzy."

Lord Olivier bowed gracefully and gently took Elizabeth's hand, which be bent low over and kissed lightly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Lizzy."

Elizabeth smiled, "Please, only my family calls me Lizzy. You can call me Elizabeth or Liz." Elizabeth noticed that he hadn't released her hand, but was instead caressing it absently, with the lightest of touches.

"Then you may call me George," he said warmly.

"George?"

"Yes, I'm in the process of changing my persona, and until I come up with a new name, I'd prefer it if you'd call me by my modern name, George Wickham."

"Elizabeth Bennet." she replied. "George, do you think I could have my hand back?" she asked pleasantly.

With an embarrassed 'Oh' he released it, smiling boyishly at her. "So, tell my about these Trebuchet."

Elizabeth explained about the period siege weapon that was used to throw large rocks at castle walls with enough force to break them down. She then loaded one with a hackie sack and released it. The crowd cheered as the soft ball flew across the room. Elizabeth then watched as others people played with the models, making sure no one was risking injury.

"Are these your toys?" George asked.

"Yes, I use them for my advanced math class." She explained. "My students only get to play with then after they have worked out formulas for the speed and force of the projectile."

"Oh, you're a teacher," George observed. "Well, I'm impressed. I wish I had had a teacher like you for math. No one at my school ever thought of such a creative teaching aid." He leaned closer and said in a low voice, "Nor were any of my teachers so pretty."

Elizabeth smiled at the compliment. She saw that the fighting had ended and that William was approaching her. His eyes locked warmly on hers and she couldn't help but smile at him as he came nearer.

George noticed that Elizabeth's attention had changed, and turned to see what she was looking at. At that moment, both men froze. All the warmth in William's face was gone, as if I had never been there. His color drained as his mouth became a tight angry line. He looked very, very dangerous. Wickham's face had flooded with color, turning vivid red as he regarded the taller, larger man before him.

Without a word, William turned on his heel, and stormed away, viciously grabbing his gear and exiting from the building without a backward glance.

Charles was just emerging from the locker room as William passed by. He looked to Elizabeth, saw her companion and followed his friend out the door. Two minutes later, Charles was back. He grabbed his equipment, and spoke briefly to Jane, in a low voice Elizabeth couldn't hear. Jane frowned in confusion, but he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and walked to Elizabeth. "I'm sorry, Liz. We have to leave right now," he said quickly, "William asked me to apologize to you." He looked unhappy. "We'll see you at Coronation."

Completely ignoring George, Bingley left as suddenly as William had, leaving a pair of very confused Bennet sisters. Jane and Elizabeth exchanged a long look, then Elizabeth turned to the only person who might have an answer, George Wickham.

"I'm sorry, you had to see that, " he said modestly.

"You, um, know each other?" Elizabeth asked cautiously.

"Yes, actually," said George, regaining his confidence. "I've known William since he was a boy. We grew up together actually. " He gave Liz a measured look. "Are you friends?"

'Are we? Damned if I know anymore.' "Yes, in a manner of speaking. My sister Jane is seeing his friend, Charles Bingley."

Wickham nodded his head. "He keeps you at a distance, doesn't he?" he said knowingly.

This insightful statement proved to Liz, more than anything else, that Wickham did know William, and well. "He's very reserved," she agreed, uncomfortable with the conversation.

George laughed, "That he is."

They were interrupted by Mary announcing that the dance practice would begin. George smiled beautifully at Liz, but before he could say something the toad was back. "Lady Elizabeth, do you think your gentle hands could guide me in learning this dance?" he oozed

Elizabeth didn't want her hands anywhere near him, but before she could answer him, George spoke up, "I'm sorry, my lord, but lady Elizabeth just agreed to dance with me," he said smoothly.

Elizabeth, being no fool, chimed in, "Yes, I'm so sorry. Maybe next time." She took George's arm and was led away from the nasty toad man.

"I hope you don't mind," George said, "but you are too fine a lady to dance with the likes of him."

She smiled her gratitude. "Thank you so much for rescuing me. I did not want to dance with him."

"Well then, this is most fortunate. We both get what we want; you don't have to dance with", he looked over his shoulder at Collins, "him, and I get to dance with you."

Elizabeth looked at him archly.

"Whaaaat?" he grinned.

"You have to promise not to take this the wrong way."

"I promise," he said nobly.

"I was thinking that Olivier is definitely the wrong name for you."

His eyebrow rose as he turned to regard her. "Do you have a suggestion, my lady?"

She nodded smugly. "Slick."

He laughed out loud and she joined in. It was a very nice laugh, high and free. "I think you have me there, my lady. You are clearly a woman of great discernment."

"Why, thank you for noticing, my lord."

The dance that evening was challenging. Elizabeth was delighted to find that George was an excellent dancer. He moved gracefully, never losing the beat, even when he might confuse his steps. Elizabeth commented on his skill.

"Thank you, I used to dance competitively."

"Really?"

"Yes, ballroom dancing."

"Why did you stop?"

"I blew out my knee."

"Dancing?"

"No, rock climbing."

Elizabeth enjoyed the evening with George. He had a warm, easy way about him that made her feel like she could talk freely with him and not have to worry about accidentally offending him with her opinion.

When the dancing was over, Elizabeth and George walked back to the table and put away the trebuchet. "Thank you for dancing with me tonight," he said pleasantly.

"Thank you! I really enjoyed it."

"Elizabeth, I hope you don't mind. . . This may be none of my business, but you seem like a really nice person, and I don't want you to get hurt." He looked away for a moment, then looked back into her eyes. "Be careful around Will Darcy. He's not what he seems."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't really say anything more," he paused, "Just be careful, don't let him- just be careful, Liz." He gave her hand a squeeze, and with a last look, walked out of the building.

****

When the girls got home their answering machine was flashing. Jane hit the button. "Jane, it's Charles." Elizabeth traded looks with Jane. They had never heard his voice like that, even when Jane fell off the horse. "Look, could you please call me as soon as you get in. It's important." Jane already had the phone in her hand. "I want to make sure you're okay, call me, please, Angel."

Elizabeth sat down on the couch as she heard Jane talking to Charles. "I'm home. . . No, I'm fine. . . We stayed for dance practice . . . Mr. Collins." Jane went into her bedroom and Liz was relieved that no one had been murdered. She was flipping through the channels on the TV when Jane came back a few minutes later. "She's right here," Jane said, "You can talk to her." She listened, then said, "I'll tell her, goodnight," and hung up. "William says he's very sorry he missed your date."

Liz shrugged, "So am I. What did Charles want?"

Jane frowned, "It was very odd. There seems to be something between William and George Wickham."

"I guessed that."

"Charles was very worried about us. He said we should be very careful about George."

"Did he say why?"

"No, he said he couldn't, just that we shouldn't trust him."

Liz sank back on the couch. Great, now both sides were warning her not to trust the other. Liz shook her head, all she wanted was a boyfriend. 'Was that so much?' Instead she got a mystery, like she was some sort of friggin' Nancy Drew.

********

It was a warm spring night, and William was naked. The room was warm, and darkly lit, providing a feeling of privacy, intimacy. She stood before him, naked as well. Her eyes were dark with desire and her smile lazy, yet touched with curiosity. Boldly, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him, her warm body pressed to his.

"William," she said in a longing whisper, "please, let me taste you."

Her lips caressed his, then released him as she dragged her mouth across his chest with a maddening slowness. His eyes closed as she found one of his nipples and latched on, her fingernails grazing it's mate to a hard point. His hands slid into her silky hair, cupping the base of her skull as he pulled her closer.

With a wicked giggle, she slipped down, out of his grasp and fell to her knees before him. His eyes flared as he watched her reach out to his full erection. Her hand clasped him, moving up and down on his shaft before her eyes, which were watching in fascination. "You are very beautiful, William." Her voice was full of wonder as she manipulated him, exploring his length and width.

Then she leaned forward, and closing her eyes, she rubbed his manhood against her face, like a cat. William gasped as he watched her pink tongue slither out of her lips and touch his tip, then quickly pull back into her mouth. She looked at him, while evaluating his taste, and finding it agreeable, she reached out for more. William struggled to remain standing as her wet, hot mouth opened to accept him. First the velvety head, then gradually sliding down to his base.

Then she paused, his entire length inside her. William moaned with need against her stillness, his fingers burying themselves in her luxurious mane. When he thought he couldn't stand it anymore, she moved. Beginning slowly, her head began a circuit, traveling up and down his hardness. As she became more familiar with the terrain, her speed increased, as did William's cries.

His knees buckled and he almost fell when he felt her tongue snake against his length, flickering against him like the wings of a butterfly. Vainly he tried to release his grasp on her hair, knowing he might be hurting her, but he was helpless against the onslaught of her mouth.

"Elizabeth" he moaned, "Oh GOD!!!" he cried as he exploded- into an empty room. The beautiful dream faded along with the pleasure it had brought and William was once again alone.

He sighed, laying back until he caught his breath, then with a dissatisfied roar, he threw off his bedclothes and got up and cleaned himself off. The room was dark and cold. He stared out of the windows of his grand bedroom in to the night. He felt lonely. Lonely and empty inside, as empty as his bed. The dreams always ended like this. Sometimes he didn't even come, and then he would wake up frustrated, aching and alone.

He didn't want the dreams anymore. He wanted them to be reality. He wanted her to be with him, all night, every night. Not disappearing after he came. He wanted to sleep with her, to learn if she woke up cheerful or grumpy. He wanted to smell her scent and feel her warmth beside him in his bed.

His eyes focused on the distant city lights as William realized he had a problem. A problem with fine, dark eyes, an easy laugh and a figure that would stop traffic.