Fic: Proclivities, Part Two
Dec. 16th, 2010 09:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabinetzinTitle: Proclivities, Part Two
Summary: Through a series of unfortunate events, Elizabeth Weir finds herself as the latest Lady Caldwell. How ever will she manage?
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Word Count: 2830
Rating/Contents: PG-13 (this chapter), NC-17 (story); airships, infidelity, discussion of sadism
Pairing: Weir/Caldwell, background John/Rodney
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: Academic writer's block = fic. Again, expect no historical accuracy.
Back to Part One
PART TWO
Elizabeth knocked on the oak and iron doors at the front of what was now the airship manufacturing division of Atlantis Trading, LLP, conscious of Lord Caldwell standing beside her. It was two weeks after their precipitate wedding; it shocked Elizabeth to see how quickly their properties had become commingled. It was still jarring to walk past the doors of her father's study and hear voices inside, or to step around a clumsy piece of furniture only to realize it had been moved to her rooms at Cold Spring.
The heavy doors swung open. "Everybody's in the back," Ronon said, with his usual deference.
They passed quickly through the front of the building, with its offices, receiving area, and drawing boards. This was as far as Caldwell- or anyone outside the company- had ever been allowed before. Elizabeth pushed open the thin green door marked "Employe's Onlie", a relic from the previous owners that had never quite gotten fixed.
The door opened on to an enormous space, its smooth concrete floor lined with craft in various states of repair. Its ceiling was one huge skylight, divided by the steel beams that gave it support.
"This is the hangar," Elizabeth said, and the affection she felt for the place was clear in her voice.
To his credit, Caldwell seemed suitably awed, taking a walk around and considering it, speechless.
A scuffling from the outskirts of the room caught their attention. Her senior staff had organized itself into a sort of reception line, which was, honestly, more organized than she'd seen them be in the entire time she'd had them in her employ.
"I take it these are yours?" he said wryly, letting her lead him over to them.
Elizabeth ignored him. "Allow me to introduce our pilot, John Sheppard."
"We've met," John said.
Elizabeth looked at them in surprise. "Really?"
"In Her Majesty's service," Caldwell said.
Observing the looks on both of their faces, Elizabeth decided to press on. "And here are Rodney McKay and Radek Zelenka."
"Doctor Rodney McKay," Rodney said, wiping his greasy hands off on his apron before shaking Caldwell's hand.
"Doctor McKay and Doctor Zelenka are our chief inventors and engineers."
"Really, it's mostly me," Rodney said modestly, and Zelenka gave him a dark look.
"You've met Teyla Emmagan, who functions as our navigator and cartographer." Teyla inclined her head, acknowledging Caldwell's bow. "And this is Ronon Dex, who is our security specialist, in addition to being a skilled field mechanic."
"Security?" he asked. "Surely this isn't such a rough neighborhood."
"Not here," Ronon said. "Up there."
He frowned. "I don't follow you."
"I don't think we should tell him," John said, sotto voce.
"That is ridiculous," Teyla countered. "Surely he will find out."
"Find out what?" Caldwell demanded.
"Why don't we tour the hangar?" Elizabeth cut in. "This is a subject for another time."
Caldwell looked, for a moment, like he might protest, but then he shook his head. "Lead on."
"We should show him Model Number 18," Ronon offered.
"That's just the thing," Elizabeth agreed. "This way, my lord."
Model Number 18 was a short, broad craft; it stood in marked contrast to its slender neighbors. "This is the largest craft we have completed," Elizabeth explained as they walked. "It was before we chose to specialize in lighter craft, obviously. Stand back, please."
She reached up and grabbed the door release, pulling down with all her strength, and the door clanked open, revealing the wood and aluminum interior of the craft.
"It runs on naquadria, of course, as do all our airships," she told him, following him inside the vessel. "The cockpit is to your left, and as you can see, the crew sleeps just behind it, with the cargo bay aft and the engine room below."
"This is the largest ship you've built?" Caldwell said skeptically, ducking his head into the cockpit.
"The ones we build for Atlantis will be much larger than this one," Elizabeth told him. "We will, of course, have to sacrifice some speed."
"No, we won't," Rodney piped up.
"How fast will this one go?" Caldwell asked.
McKay and Zelenka huddled together, waving their arms and talking animatedly back and forth.
Caldwell considered the two of them. "I don't want to know, do I?"
"Suffice it to say we haven't told Air Control," John said smugly.
"Fair enough," Caldwell allowed. "I notice that there are only three bunks."
John's face was panicked. "That's, uh, because-"
"I sleep in the cockpit," Ronon said quickly.
"Yes, Ronon sleeps in the cockpit," Rodney added hastily. "For safety. In case there's a problem. In the night."
"So, there are only three bunks," John concluded.
Caldwell looked at all of them suspiciously. "Right."
"Of course, the living quarters can be outfitted in numerous ways," Elizabeth said. "As can the cargo bay- it's just through these doors here. Shall we?" She held out an arm to lead Lord Caldwell on, and Rodney gave her a pathetically grateful look behind his back.
"I'm afraid there's not much to see here," Elizabeth said. "It is rather standard, as cargo bays go- there are extra compartments here, here, and-"
"What on Earth is that for?" Caldwell said, not paying attention.
Elizabeth had, of course, forgotten about the massive gun rack.
"This is stupid," Ronon said. "We need to just tell him."
"Yes," Caldwell said, crossing his arms over his chest. "You need to just tell me."
Elizabeth sighed. Better to do it quickly, she supposed. "Lord Caldwell, what have you heard of the Wraith?"
He shrugged. "Children's stories."
"Then you are better off than we are," Zelenka said darkly.
"Our primary focus is research and development," Elizabeth told him, "but our secondary goal is to assist in the eradication of the Wraith that plague our skies."
Caldwell raised an eyebrow at her. "If this is a joke-"
"Trust me, we all wish it were," Rodney interjected.
"I have been in the highest eschelons of Her Majesty's forces," Caldwell protested, "and I have never once heard serious talk about the Wraith."
"The Wraith fly above the reach of most airships, so few people have seen them up close," Rodney explained.
"And lived," Ronon added.
"Why would Her Majesty want the commoners knowing that they're in constant danger?" John replied. "And who would believe it if they were told? You don't believe it now."
Caldwell sighed. "If this isn't some hazing that all new employees go through, you'd better tell me everything you know."
"It should be Teyla," Ronon said. "It's less scary when she does it."
Teyla inclined her head at him before she began to speak. "My family have known about the Wraith's existence for many decades," she explained. "We believe they are a kind of vampire, one whose domain is restricted to the air. They have an ability to pull the life from a person's body."
Caldwell snorted. "This is ridiculous-"
"If I had not watched it happen to my father," Teyla said over him, "I would not believe it myself."
He stopped, giving her an appraising look; he seemed to find something convincing in her eyes. "My apologies for the interruption. Please continue."
"I am not known as a woman given to flights of fancy," she said seriously. "When I tell you that I have seen them turn to smoke, only to reappear out of nowhere, I am not under the effect of any hysteria. I have seen them take a grown man and throw him across the sky as if he were no more than a doll. I have seen them laugh as they kill. We do not know why they harm humans. What is clear is that they enjoy it."
An inexplicable shadow of pain passed over Caldwell's features. "I see."
"This is a lot to take in," Elizabeth said sympathetically.
He gave her a wry look. "I am a grown and relatively self-sufficient man, Elizabeth. I believe I can handle the truth."
"Wait, you actually believe us?" Rodney asked incredulously.
"I am somewhat skeptical," Caldwell replied. "And I'm not prepared to rule out a very well-orchestrated joke. But if there's not some truth to it, you're the best pack of liars I've ever met."
"We could always show him," John pointed out.
"Good day for it," Ronon said, smiling predatorially
"I thought we agreed that we weren't going to antagonize the Wraith on purpose," Elizabeth said, with a sigh.
"It's stress relief," Ronon protested.
"Maybe for you," Elizabeth said, "but for those of us on the ground, it is slightly more nerve-wracking."
"You have nothing to fear from me," Caldwell told her. "I would like to see these things firsthand, but I've no interest in fighting a battle unnecessarily."
Elizabeth took a moment to be thankful for the fact that, accidentally or not, she'd married someone with a little more sense than certain daredevils of her acquaintance. "Shall we continue on with our tour?"
"We have a telephone," Rodney said excitedly. "Would you like to see our telephone?"
Caldwell pulled out his pocket watch. "I'm afraid I have an engagement at two o'clock."
"You could call them!" Rodney offered.
"Rodney," John sighed. "We've been over this. Nobody has a telephone in this town except for us and the post office."
"You're just jealous of the telephone," Rodney accused.
"I'll just be going," Caldwell said, eying the two of them.
"I'll see you out," Elizabeth said, happy to leave them to bicker in peace.
--
Upon returning home that night, Elizabeth was in good spirits. Introducing Lord Caldwell to her closest allies had gone far smoother than she had expected, aside from the one rough spot with John. But then, John seemed to know everyone in the city, and more often than not he had some reason to dislike them- or vice versa.
She came in by the back entrance, a habit she had picked up long ago; the narrow staircase took her past the servants' quarters and on up into the foyer.
As she passed through the downstairs, she heard voices just around the corner.
"Is the master home yet?" one of them tittered.
"He won't be home for a long, long while," the other one giggled.
"I bet it's a blond."
"As if the master would want anything so common! I bet it's a redhead."
Elizabeth did not care to hear anymore. She rounded the corner, facing the two of them. "Caroline, Emily," she snapped, and the two girls straightened immediately. Elizabeth made a point to know all of her staff by name as a matter of principle, but using it to startle them was nice as well.
"I'm so sorry, my lady," Emily said immediately, falling all over herself to apologize. "We weren't-"
"You have jobs to do," Elizabeth said icily. "I suggest you go do them. Is Mister Grodin still here?"
The smarter one curtsied. "Yes, my lady."
"Tell him I must speak to him at once." She continued up the stairs, ignoring the simpering apologies behind her, and went to the drawing room to await Peter.
He was as punctual as ever. "My lady," he said, with a little bow.
"Come and sit down," she told him, and she could tell by his wary look that she sounded as angry as she felt. He sat down next to her. "It seems my house knows something that I don't know."
She could see it register on his face immediately; he was already well aware of what she was going to ask. "I would not want to upset you with idle talk," he said stiffly.
"Peter," she said, taking his hand. "You are not a servant. You are my most trusted confidant. If there is something I need to know, I am not ordering you to tell me. I am asking you as a friend."
Peter sighed. "There are stories, Elizabeth."
"Of what?"
"They say he's still seen in the company of." He coughed. "Ladies of easy virtue. They say it's an open secret that your marriage is- forgive me, my lady- a sham."
"I see," she said coldly. "Do they say, or is it true?"
"By all accounts," he admitted reluctantly. "My lady, I would never-"
"I'm not mad at you," she said shortly. "Make sure I am notified the moment his lordship returns."
Peter bowed deeply. "Of course." He looked hesitant. "I hope you won't- Caroline's mother is very ill, and without her support-"
"I'm not going to fire them for gossipping," she reassured him. "I'm not sure how they can do their jobs while being so incredibly stupid, but as long as they continue to do so, I won't question it. And besides," she said, her teeth clenched, "everyone important already knows."
She walked off before Peter could say anything else.
She went up to her small office, getting steadily angrier by the minute. They had gotten into this whole catastrophe precisely to avoid this kind of public shame. If she wanted to be the center of a scandal, they could have saved time and money by not getting married at all.
Her anger, however, went deeper than concern for her reputation. They had not been wed under the most conventional of circumstances, but he was her husband, and by God, he was going to act like it.
After she was informed of his arrival, she steeled herself, going to find him in his study. He sat hunched over his desk, studying some kind of reports; he definitely didn't look like a man who'd just returned from a tryst, and Elizabeth very nearly lost her nerve.
He looked up after some moments, noticing her for the first time. "Elizabeth, I am not in the mood," he told her, looking back at his papers.
"Neither am I, but there are matters to be discussed that will not wait."
He looked up at her again. "You're not going to go away until I listen to you, are you?"
"No."
He sighed wearily and waved a hand for her to begin.
"It has come to my attention," she said, her posture even more rigid than normal, "that you have engaged in certain dalliances. These are to stop immediately."
He snorted a laugh. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't bother to deny it," she told him. "The news is all over the house, and I daresay that the whole town knows by now."
He pushed back from his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. "And what if it is true?"
"Then it has to stop," she repeated.
"You don't know what you're playing at. Those dalliances," he said, his tone mocking, "are the only thing shielding you."
There was something in his manner that she'd never seen before, a side of him that had been hidden up until now. It unsettled her, but she pressed on anyway. "The only thing I wish to be shielded from, my lord," she returned, snapping his title like an insult, "is the shame of having an unfaithful husband."
"There are worse things," he said, his eyes growing dark. He stood up and advanced on her slowly, his movements graceful and predatory. "Do you know what it is that I do with those girls?"
Elizabeth swallowed, composing herself before speaking. "I have a fairly good idea."
"I'm certain that you think you do," he told her. "But that I could get from anyone. I could even get it from you."
"And I am prepared to discharge my duties in this area," she said primly.
"How am I supposed to resist when you make it sound so exciting," he replied, sarcasm dripping off his words.
"If there's something other than that you want," she said, looking him squarely in the eye, "then I must confess that it's beyond me."
"It is," he said, and she fancied that she heard something rueful in his tone. "Unless you'd like to be tied down in my bed," he said, and he was quite close to her now, close enough that she could feel his breath. "Unless you want to feel the sting of the lash on your pretty back." He circled around her, but she didn't dare to follow him with her eyes. Her heart was beating faster and faster, the room seeming to grow warmer the closer he came. "Unless you want to know that every second of your pain only brings me closer to the edge."
She bit her lip, but she was unable to stop the cry that escaped her. A curious tension was building inside of her; it was like nothing she'd ever felt before. She felt excited and sickened and hot all over, and she couldn't for the life of her decide if she wanted to hear more.
He stopped in front of her, looking at her with a kind of hungry certainty in his eyes. "Or maybe you do."
Left with no other recourse, she turned on her heel and fled the room.
--
On to part three
Summary: Through a series of unfortunate events, Elizabeth Weir finds herself as the latest Lady Caldwell. How ever will she manage?
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Word Count: 2830
Rating/Contents: PG-13 (this chapter), NC-17 (story); airships, infidelity, discussion of sadism
Pairing: Weir/Caldwell, background John/Rodney
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: Academic writer's block = fic. Again, expect no historical accuracy.
Back to Part One
PART TWO
Elizabeth knocked on the oak and iron doors at the front of what was now the airship manufacturing division of Atlantis Trading, LLP, conscious of Lord Caldwell standing beside her. It was two weeks after their precipitate wedding; it shocked Elizabeth to see how quickly their properties had become commingled. It was still jarring to walk past the doors of her father's study and hear voices inside, or to step around a clumsy piece of furniture only to realize it had been moved to her rooms at Cold Spring.
The heavy doors swung open. "Everybody's in the back," Ronon said, with his usual deference.
They passed quickly through the front of the building, with its offices, receiving area, and drawing boards. This was as far as Caldwell- or anyone outside the company- had ever been allowed before. Elizabeth pushed open the thin green door marked "Employe's Onlie", a relic from the previous owners that had never quite gotten fixed.
The door opened on to an enormous space, its smooth concrete floor lined with craft in various states of repair. Its ceiling was one huge skylight, divided by the steel beams that gave it support.
"This is the hangar," Elizabeth said, and the affection she felt for the place was clear in her voice.
To his credit, Caldwell seemed suitably awed, taking a walk around and considering it, speechless.
A scuffling from the outskirts of the room caught their attention. Her senior staff had organized itself into a sort of reception line, which was, honestly, more organized than she'd seen them be in the entire time she'd had them in her employ.
"I take it these are yours?" he said wryly, letting her lead him over to them.
Elizabeth ignored him. "Allow me to introduce our pilot, John Sheppard."
"We've met," John said.
Elizabeth looked at them in surprise. "Really?"
"In Her Majesty's service," Caldwell said.
Observing the looks on both of their faces, Elizabeth decided to press on. "And here are Rodney McKay and Radek Zelenka."
"Doctor Rodney McKay," Rodney said, wiping his greasy hands off on his apron before shaking Caldwell's hand.
"Doctor McKay and Doctor Zelenka are our chief inventors and engineers."
"Really, it's mostly me," Rodney said modestly, and Zelenka gave him a dark look.
"You've met Teyla Emmagan, who functions as our navigator and cartographer." Teyla inclined her head, acknowledging Caldwell's bow. "And this is Ronon Dex, who is our security specialist, in addition to being a skilled field mechanic."
"Security?" he asked. "Surely this isn't such a rough neighborhood."
"Not here," Ronon said. "Up there."
He frowned. "I don't follow you."
"I don't think we should tell him," John said, sotto voce.
"That is ridiculous," Teyla countered. "Surely he will find out."
"Find out what?" Caldwell demanded.
"Why don't we tour the hangar?" Elizabeth cut in. "This is a subject for another time."
Caldwell looked, for a moment, like he might protest, but then he shook his head. "Lead on."
"We should show him Model Number 18," Ronon offered.
"That's just the thing," Elizabeth agreed. "This way, my lord."
Model Number 18 was a short, broad craft; it stood in marked contrast to its slender neighbors. "This is the largest craft we have completed," Elizabeth explained as they walked. "It was before we chose to specialize in lighter craft, obviously. Stand back, please."
She reached up and grabbed the door release, pulling down with all her strength, and the door clanked open, revealing the wood and aluminum interior of the craft.
"It runs on naquadria, of course, as do all our airships," she told him, following him inside the vessel. "The cockpit is to your left, and as you can see, the crew sleeps just behind it, with the cargo bay aft and the engine room below."
"This is the largest ship you've built?" Caldwell said skeptically, ducking his head into the cockpit.
"The ones we build for Atlantis will be much larger than this one," Elizabeth told him. "We will, of course, have to sacrifice some speed."
"No, we won't," Rodney piped up.
"How fast will this one go?" Caldwell asked.
McKay and Zelenka huddled together, waving their arms and talking animatedly back and forth.
Caldwell considered the two of them. "I don't want to know, do I?"
"Suffice it to say we haven't told Air Control," John said smugly.
"Fair enough," Caldwell allowed. "I notice that there are only three bunks."
John's face was panicked. "That's, uh, because-"
"I sleep in the cockpit," Ronon said quickly.
"Yes, Ronon sleeps in the cockpit," Rodney added hastily. "For safety. In case there's a problem. In the night."
"So, there are only three bunks," John concluded.
Caldwell looked at all of them suspiciously. "Right."
"Of course, the living quarters can be outfitted in numerous ways," Elizabeth said. "As can the cargo bay- it's just through these doors here. Shall we?" She held out an arm to lead Lord Caldwell on, and Rodney gave her a pathetically grateful look behind his back.
"I'm afraid there's not much to see here," Elizabeth said. "It is rather standard, as cargo bays go- there are extra compartments here, here, and-"
"What on Earth is that for?" Caldwell said, not paying attention.
Elizabeth had, of course, forgotten about the massive gun rack.
"This is stupid," Ronon said. "We need to just tell him."
"Yes," Caldwell said, crossing his arms over his chest. "You need to just tell me."
Elizabeth sighed. Better to do it quickly, she supposed. "Lord Caldwell, what have you heard of the Wraith?"
He shrugged. "Children's stories."
"Then you are better off than we are," Zelenka said darkly.
"Our primary focus is research and development," Elizabeth told him, "but our secondary goal is to assist in the eradication of the Wraith that plague our skies."
Caldwell raised an eyebrow at her. "If this is a joke-"
"Trust me, we all wish it were," Rodney interjected.
"I have been in the highest eschelons of Her Majesty's forces," Caldwell protested, "and I have never once heard serious talk about the Wraith."
"The Wraith fly above the reach of most airships, so few people have seen them up close," Rodney explained.
"And lived," Ronon added.
"Why would Her Majesty want the commoners knowing that they're in constant danger?" John replied. "And who would believe it if they were told? You don't believe it now."
Caldwell sighed. "If this isn't some hazing that all new employees go through, you'd better tell me everything you know."
"It should be Teyla," Ronon said. "It's less scary when she does it."
Teyla inclined her head at him before she began to speak. "My family have known about the Wraith's existence for many decades," she explained. "We believe they are a kind of vampire, one whose domain is restricted to the air. They have an ability to pull the life from a person's body."
Caldwell snorted. "This is ridiculous-"
"If I had not watched it happen to my father," Teyla said over him, "I would not believe it myself."
He stopped, giving her an appraising look; he seemed to find something convincing in her eyes. "My apologies for the interruption. Please continue."
"I am not known as a woman given to flights of fancy," she said seriously. "When I tell you that I have seen them turn to smoke, only to reappear out of nowhere, I am not under the effect of any hysteria. I have seen them take a grown man and throw him across the sky as if he were no more than a doll. I have seen them laugh as they kill. We do not know why they harm humans. What is clear is that they enjoy it."
An inexplicable shadow of pain passed over Caldwell's features. "I see."
"This is a lot to take in," Elizabeth said sympathetically.
He gave her a wry look. "I am a grown and relatively self-sufficient man, Elizabeth. I believe I can handle the truth."
"Wait, you actually believe us?" Rodney asked incredulously.
"I am somewhat skeptical," Caldwell replied. "And I'm not prepared to rule out a very well-orchestrated joke. But if there's not some truth to it, you're the best pack of liars I've ever met."
"We could always show him," John pointed out.
"Good day for it," Ronon said, smiling predatorially
"I thought we agreed that we weren't going to antagonize the Wraith on purpose," Elizabeth said, with a sigh.
"It's stress relief," Ronon protested.
"Maybe for you," Elizabeth said, "but for those of us on the ground, it is slightly more nerve-wracking."
"You have nothing to fear from me," Caldwell told her. "I would like to see these things firsthand, but I've no interest in fighting a battle unnecessarily."
Elizabeth took a moment to be thankful for the fact that, accidentally or not, she'd married someone with a little more sense than certain daredevils of her acquaintance. "Shall we continue on with our tour?"
"We have a telephone," Rodney said excitedly. "Would you like to see our telephone?"
Caldwell pulled out his pocket watch. "I'm afraid I have an engagement at two o'clock."
"You could call them!" Rodney offered.
"Rodney," John sighed. "We've been over this. Nobody has a telephone in this town except for us and the post office."
"You're just jealous of the telephone," Rodney accused.
"I'll just be going," Caldwell said, eying the two of them.
"I'll see you out," Elizabeth said, happy to leave them to bicker in peace.
--
Upon returning home that night, Elizabeth was in good spirits. Introducing Lord Caldwell to her closest allies had gone far smoother than she had expected, aside from the one rough spot with John. But then, John seemed to know everyone in the city, and more often than not he had some reason to dislike them- or vice versa.
She came in by the back entrance, a habit she had picked up long ago; the narrow staircase took her past the servants' quarters and on up into the foyer.
As she passed through the downstairs, she heard voices just around the corner.
"Is the master home yet?" one of them tittered.
"He won't be home for a long, long while," the other one giggled.
"I bet it's a blond."
"As if the master would want anything so common! I bet it's a redhead."
Elizabeth did not care to hear anymore. She rounded the corner, facing the two of them. "Caroline, Emily," she snapped, and the two girls straightened immediately. Elizabeth made a point to know all of her staff by name as a matter of principle, but using it to startle them was nice as well.
"I'm so sorry, my lady," Emily said immediately, falling all over herself to apologize. "We weren't-"
"You have jobs to do," Elizabeth said icily. "I suggest you go do them. Is Mister Grodin still here?"
The smarter one curtsied. "Yes, my lady."
"Tell him I must speak to him at once." She continued up the stairs, ignoring the simpering apologies behind her, and went to the drawing room to await Peter.
He was as punctual as ever. "My lady," he said, with a little bow.
"Come and sit down," she told him, and she could tell by his wary look that she sounded as angry as she felt. He sat down next to her. "It seems my house knows something that I don't know."
She could see it register on his face immediately; he was already well aware of what she was going to ask. "I would not want to upset you with idle talk," he said stiffly.
"Peter," she said, taking his hand. "You are not a servant. You are my most trusted confidant. If there is something I need to know, I am not ordering you to tell me. I am asking you as a friend."
Peter sighed. "There are stories, Elizabeth."
"Of what?"
"They say he's still seen in the company of." He coughed. "Ladies of easy virtue. They say it's an open secret that your marriage is- forgive me, my lady- a sham."
"I see," she said coldly. "Do they say, or is it true?"
"By all accounts," he admitted reluctantly. "My lady, I would never-"
"I'm not mad at you," she said shortly. "Make sure I am notified the moment his lordship returns."
Peter bowed deeply. "Of course." He looked hesitant. "I hope you won't- Caroline's mother is very ill, and without her support-"
"I'm not going to fire them for gossipping," she reassured him. "I'm not sure how they can do their jobs while being so incredibly stupid, but as long as they continue to do so, I won't question it. And besides," she said, her teeth clenched, "everyone important already knows."
She walked off before Peter could say anything else.
She went up to her small office, getting steadily angrier by the minute. They had gotten into this whole catastrophe precisely to avoid this kind of public shame. If she wanted to be the center of a scandal, they could have saved time and money by not getting married at all.
Her anger, however, went deeper than concern for her reputation. They had not been wed under the most conventional of circumstances, but he was her husband, and by God, he was going to act like it.
After she was informed of his arrival, she steeled herself, going to find him in his study. He sat hunched over his desk, studying some kind of reports; he definitely didn't look like a man who'd just returned from a tryst, and Elizabeth very nearly lost her nerve.
He looked up after some moments, noticing her for the first time. "Elizabeth, I am not in the mood," he told her, looking back at his papers.
"Neither am I, but there are matters to be discussed that will not wait."
He looked up at her again. "You're not going to go away until I listen to you, are you?"
"No."
He sighed wearily and waved a hand for her to begin.
"It has come to my attention," she said, her posture even more rigid than normal, "that you have engaged in certain dalliances. These are to stop immediately."
He snorted a laugh. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't bother to deny it," she told him. "The news is all over the house, and I daresay that the whole town knows by now."
He pushed back from his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. "And what if it is true?"
"Then it has to stop," she repeated.
"You don't know what you're playing at. Those dalliances," he said, his tone mocking, "are the only thing shielding you."
There was something in his manner that she'd never seen before, a side of him that had been hidden up until now. It unsettled her, but she pressed on anyway. "The only thing I wish to be shielded from, my lord," she returned, snapping his title like an insult, "is the shame of having an unfaithful husband."
"There are worse things," he said, his eyes growing dark. He stood up and advanced on her slowly, his movements graceful and predatory. "Do you know what it is that I do with those girls?"
Elizabeth swallowed, composing herself before speaking. "I have a fairly good idea."
"I'm certain that you think you do," he told her. "But that I could get from anyone. I could even get it from you."
"And I am prepared to discharge my duties in this area," she said primly.
"How am I supposed to resist when you make it sound so exciting," he replied, sarcasm dripping off his words.
"If there's something other than that you want," she said, looking him squarely in the eye, "then I must confess that it's beyond me."
"It is," he said, and she fancied that she heard something rueful in his tone. "Unless you'd like to be tied down in my bed," he said, and he was quite close to her now, close enough that she could feel his breath. "Unless you want to feel the sting of the lash on your pretty back." He circled around her, but she didn't dare to follow him with her eyes. Her heart was beating faster and faster, the room seeming to grow warmer the closer he came. "Unless you want to know that every second of your pain only brings me closer to the edge."
She bit her lip, but she was unable to stop the cry that escaped her. A curious tension was building inside of her; it was like nothing she'd ever felt before. She felt excited and sickened and hot all over, and she couldn't for the life of her decide if she wanted to hear more.
He stopped in front of her, looking at her with a kind of hungry certainty in his eyes. "Or maybe you do."
Left with no other recourse, she turned on her heel and fled the room.
--
On to part three
(no subject)
Date: 2010-12-17 04:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-12 11:20 pm (UTC)John and Steven's past acquaintance! And ahaha, John panicking over the bunks.
Love that scene between Steven and Elizabeth at the end, it's classic. I just eat it up.