by Haven, Rose
They went off with a massive boom, exploding on impact. I had never been more glad that I’d never been able to work out the kinks in that particular invention.
Elizabeth jerked in mid-air and the hook in the wall of my bedroom shuddered as though it were about to fly out, but it stayed embedded in the wood. Strong work, I thought, but I did not have time to admire it. The steam engine was still warming up, so I shouted at Edmund: “Again – try to aim for the same spot.”
Because surely there would be a scratch in the balloon? Another explosion could set the whole thing off. I did not relish the thought that my mother – and any other women inside of the flying machine – would perish, but they had come for me first. If given a choice between myself and Edmund, and the women who had come to kill us, then there was really no choice.
Edmund released the next trebuchet, sending another volley of the indoor illumination globes at the flying machine. My mother was already in motion, turning the wheel hard so that the bottom of the glass compartment was above the house and all I could see was the bottom of her shoes and the petticoats beneath her dress. The indoor illumination globes slammed into the bottom of the glass compartment, but the explosion seemed to do very little damage.
Elizabeth landed hard on my bedroom floor. Her momentum nearly threw her into my workbench, but she gathered herself rather quickly. Before she could speak or even draw her weapon, Edmund tackled her around the middle and brought them both down in a tangle of skirts and limbs.
Pushing the steam engine to the window, I wasted no time in taking advantage of the opening Edmund had given me. It had heated up enough to cause some damage. I aimed at the glass compartment above me, hesitating briefly before zeroing in on what I knew was my mother, and fired.
The bullets tore through the glass. I heard a thump and gasp behind me and turned just in time to catch Elizabeth’s arm as it swung towards me with her pistol poised so that the butt would have struck me in the head if I hadn’t caught it. Edmund lay senseless on the ground.
Elizabeth was screaming in fury. There was a red bruise blossoming beneath her eye. Her fists were moving so quickly that I couldn’t even think to reach for a weapon. I tried to shove her away, but the strength of her fury was almost overwhelming. The sound of the steam engine whirring was enough to distract me almost as well as Edmund did on a good day. Elizabeth seized a handful of my hair and tried to shove it into the engine’s cogs. It would have been enough to pull my head clean off, but I wrapped my arms around her knees and brought us both to the ground.
The flying machine outside jerked away from the house and the hook in the wall shuddered again. The wire grew taught and, as Elizabeth pulled herself to her feet and drew her pistol, the hook flew out of the wall and embedded itself in her.
I screamed as the hook struck Elizabeth’s side, burying itself deeply and forcing a sickening gasp out of her mouth. Blood spilled out of the wound, but before I could do more than stare in horror Elizabeth’s body was pulled out of the window and flung into the air beneath the flying machine.
Scrambling, I ran my hand over Edmund’s face and checked his pulse. He was breathing steadily – Elizabeth must have just knocked him out. I pushed myself up and ran to the window in time to see the flying machine landing in the back garden, crushing the begonias he’d worked so hard on.
I was on my feet in a moment. Gathering my skirts so that I wouldn’t trip, I ran down the hall and through to the back garden. I could smell gasoline and scented hydrogen in the air. If Edmund’s aim had been true, the flying machine would have gone down in a blaze of flames.
Elizabeth’s body was laying among the rose bushes. My mother stood by her, staring down and shaking her head. I whipped out my pistol and aimed it at her heart.
“Stop right there!” I shouted.
She turned quickly, as though she hadn’t heard me coming, and held up her hands. Her eyes were glistening with tears.
“Rosalie,” she gasped out. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” I replied. “Not for lack of trying on your part.”
“Darling –” She tried to come closer, but I aimed my gun at the rose bush and fired – the modification allowed for three rapid shots which obliterated one of the blooms. She flinched and stepped back to give me my space. “Rosalie, you must know that I would never hurt you –”
“Really?” I asked, looking pointedly at the massive cannon-like structure attached to the flying machine’s base. “I’m seeing some fairly compelling evidence which says that you would.”
“If you hadn’t fought back, I would have sabotaged the mission,” she replied. “I was ready to fire into the zip line – I would never have let Elizabeth get near you –”
“Edmund is laying senseless on my bedroom floor –”
“Perhaps if your manservant was not in your bedroom to begin with –”
“You brought these monsters to my home –”
“I had no choice –”
“There is always a choice!”
I hadn’t realised that I had started screaming. There were tears dripping down my cheeks, and there were answering tears on her cheeks as well. I wanted to shoot those tears off of her face, and I also wanted to take out a handkerchief and wipe them away like she used to do when I skinned my knees.
“You didn’t have to leave us,” I said. My voice was heavy.
She shook her head. “I couldn’t think of any other way to protect you,” she said.
“How many people have they made you kill?” I asked. When she didn’t answer, more tears spilled out of my eyes. “How many people have died because you wanted to protect us?”
She wiped at her eyes. “I would burn this whole world down to protect my family.”
“I happen to know for a fact that your family would not want that.”
Mother stared down at Elizabeth’s body in the rose bush. The hook was still embedded in her side. The blood was oozing out of the wound and onto the flowers, colouring them a gory, bile-red. If Mother was telling the truth, then she’d been planning to sacrifice Elizabeth to this mission regardless of how hard I’d fought back. Exactly how far was this woman willing to go?
“I know that you don’t agree with my methods,” she said, moving slowly towards me and reaching out as though she meant to take my pistol away. Or perhaps she just wanted to hold me. Either way, I took another step back and waved my pistol threateningly. “But… what I do, I do to keep you safe.”
“I think I’m doing a fair job of keeping myself safe without your help.”
She nodded. “Yes,” she said. “And I am proud of you for that.”
“Are you?” I asked.
She stepped forward again. I thought that she might wind up backing me into the house itself. I didn’t back away this time. I let my pistol fall to my side.
Mother reached out and took my shoulder. I felt as though I was eight years old again and staring at the mound of dirt beside her grave, wondering if she would be able to breathe easily once she had been buried. But it turned out that the coffin had been empty and my mother had deceived everyone she’d ever loved.
“Do you regret leaving us?” I asked.
“Oh, darling,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I have never regretted anything more.”
I heard movement behind me, and I turned to see Edmund standing in the back doorway, leaning heavily on his cane and breathing hard. He did not look too badly affected by his altercation with Elizabeth. He looked between Mother and me, as though trying to decide if he should intervene, but when I shook my head he seemed to relax.
Mother sniffed derisively at him. “I suppose you know that he’s a bastard?”
“I turned down a prince, once,” I said, turning back to her. “Birth hardly matters to me.”
“Well,” she said. “I must acknowledge that he is loyal. And brave.”
“Yes, he is,” I said.
She ran her fingers through her hair and looked back at Elizabeth�
�s body. “I will take her back to the organisation,” she said. “And convince them to leave you be. I’ll tell them that you are too adept at fighting back. I promise that, if I hear that they are planning to target you again, I will warn you.”
I nodded. I was not sure when we had come to an understanding, but apparently we had. Mother had abandoned us, but she was still protecting us, so at least she was good for something.
Before I could stop her, she stepped forward and hugged me. I felt myself tense without conscious thought, but after a moment I relaxed and hugged her back.
“I love you,” she said.
And I did not know her well enough to love her back, but I could remember a time when I did love her. A time when I would look forward to seeing her, and I would feel her fingers running through my curls as she dressed me for church or a dinner party. I held her a little bit tighter.
When she pulled away, she kissed me on the cheek, nodded to Edmund, and turned without another word.
She climbed into the flying machine and the propellers began to whirl. I stood in the back garden as the wind gathered up my skirts and watched as the flying machine took off. In the back of my mind, I wondered if Mother would have trouble to control the machine with damage to the floors and the balloon, but she seemed to be doing alright. Elizabeth’s body was still attached to the hook and zip line. She was pulled out of the rose bush and winched into the machine. The sun was behind it, and I could no longer see my mother’s face. I wondered when I would see it again.
The flying machine was poised in the air. I thought that it might be waiting for something, so I waved. Then it turned and flew into the sunset.
I stood and watched for a moment longer, before turning back to the house and Edmund. He was waiting at the backdoor with a look of concern in his eyes.
“Are you alright –”
“Come upstairs with me,” I said, reaching out and taking Edmund’s hand in mine. He looked down at our entwined fingers, and then back at me with a question in his eyes.
“Rosalie –”
I stepped into his space and kissed him softly. When I pulled back, his lips chased mine.
“Upstairs,” he agreed.
I pulled him inside and closed the door behind us.
Chapter Five
He was graceful even when he was opening my bedroom door. I am beyond the point of grace – I would be fumbling, trembling, shaking, and stuttering out questions – but with Edmund guiding me I felt as though I were floating on a cloud. Edmund is calm, suave, and many other words that I had forgotten in my desire to pull him into my bedroom.
I was still a bit of a mess from the fight with Elizabeth, and the steam engine was still poised at my window ready to fight back against any attack, but all I could think about was getting Edmund onto the bed – everything that had come before could wait until I had achieved that goal.
Edmund closed the door and pulled me around to press me against it, sliding his hands over my waist and hips, as though he were trying to make sure that I was real and not a mirage. I felt the secure wood at my back, and the equally secure arms around me, and I had never felt safer in my whole life. If the building were to fall down around me, I wouldn’t even notice.
He gazed into my eyes a moment before leaning forward to capture my lips. I curled my fingers into his vest and pulled him closer, hooking my thigh over his hips, and when he gasped I used the opening to slide my tongue into his mouth. If I could have melted into him, I would have. Even the first taste left me burning for more.
I could feel his hands moving around to untie my corset. I wanted to feel his hands on my bare skin, but I also wanted to pull down his trousers and feel him inside of me without delay. I draped myself over his shoulders, reaching around to help him with the ties at the base of my spine, and our mouths were barely touching by the time we’d gotten it loose and tossed it into a corner. I could feel his warm breath against my lips and I breathed it in, but it wasn’t nearly enough. More, I thought, and when he shivered against me I realised that I must have said it out loud – or something similar.
Edmund made a low sound in the back of his throat, like an animal about to devour his prey. He lifted my skirt and I finally felt his hands on my skin. I’d missed this – God help me, I’d missed this so much. I’d wanted this so fiercely and now that it was within my grasp, I couldn’t stop trembling.
He reached down, rubbing his hands down my thighs and beneath my petticoats until they lightly brushed against my centre. I heard my own breath catch and I might have keened helplessly, but I was too far gone with desire to do anything besides press back against him, seeking that delicious friction. He pressed harder and pulled away from the kiss so that he could watch me with eyes blacker than pitch. I stared right back, helpless to do otherwise, and when he slid two fingers into me I felt my whole body twist and contort with the force of what I was feeling. I tumbled over the edge of my passion and felt my legs give out – but Edmund was there, catching me as easily as he would a ragged doll. His eyes never left mine, and they seemed to grow hungrier as I jerked and spasmed in his arms.
It took me a moment to catch my breath. I had sated my lust but I was not satisfied. I needed more.
“Bed,” I said.
He seemed to heartily agree with me. He lifted me into his arms and carried me over. I was glad for his strength, because I knew that I would have been stumbling like a newborn calf without him. His disability was all but forgotten, and there was nothing but the slight hitch in his step to give any indication that he needed a cane to walk. He let me fall back onto the mattress, and before I could even get my bearings, he was above me, his dark eyes lit by the soft glow from the lantern light.
“Rosalie –” he began.
I reached up to run my hand through his fringe, pushing it out of his eyes. As much as I wanted him to get on with it, I could see that there was something he wanted to say before he’d completely lost himself to passion.
“Yes?” I asked.
“Marry me.”
I felt my heart clench. “Yes.” The word fell out of my lips before I could muster any conscious thought. As soon as I’d said it, I wondered if I should take it back. Perhaps guard my heart against this man who had hurt me in the past – who could potentially hurt me again.
But Edmund’s smile was so sudden and devastatingly bright that I forgot all of my reservations. I forgot that my father had chosen him – if I’d had the power, I would have chosen him to. I forgot that he’d become my manservant under false pretences – what did I care how we had met, as long as we had? Edmund dipped his head to kiss me again. Softly. Gently. As though he meant to convey something far softer and more beautiful than mere bodily lust.
I gasped and arched up, aiming for more contact, and the movement seemed to ignite his passion all over again. Edmund sat back and scrambled out of his clothes like a man possessed. Within the blink of an eye, he was naked and leaning over me. Though I had only really seen his body once, I was intimately acquainted with it. I’d been dreaming of it for weeks. I was familiar with the planes of his stomach and the firm muscles in his arms as I was with my own body. I ran my palms over his stomach and found his skin almost unbearably hot.
He did not press into me at once, as I had hoped. Instead, he undressed me slowly like a child unwrapping a birthday present. I pushed up against his hands, wishing to convey my desire without words. Once I was finally undressed, however, I was beyond the point of dignity.
“Please,” I gasped. “Please, Edmund – please –”
But even then he would not heed me. Instead, he pressed his fingers into me again, running his hand over my stomach and then down. With both hands he worked me open. Tantalisingly slowly. So slowly that I thought I might go mad.
“Damn you, Edmund – what do I have to – oh!”
His tongue had joined his fingers and I lost all sense. I braced one hand on his shoulder and he worked my body over. I felt like I was a clock being wo
und too tight. That any moment the pressure would ignite within me and send me flying through the window and into the darkness outside. He kept stretching me until I was nothing but a quivering, gasping, mumbling mess.
When I stood on the edge of a second fall, he pulled back.
“Oh, I will make you pay for that!” I snapped, reaching down to finish the job he’d started, but he batted my hands away.
“I hope you do,” he said. The sadist clearly hoped to drive me insane. Well I would show him! As soon as my legs started working again.
In the meantime, he was finally leaning over me and pressing inside. The attention he’d paid to me meant that I barely felt the burn or rush of penetration, and it was only when he began moving over me and his pelvic bone hit me in just the right spot that I truly knew he was inside of me.
And then there was nothing but heat and passion, and meeting each of his thrusts with one of my own. I felt his hands all over me, I felt his kisses pressed into my hair, I felt his breath in my ear and his voice a jumbling mess of sounds: “IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.”
He pushed me over the edge and I kept falling. I didn’t stop. Even when the spasms became so intense that I thought I might fall out of the bed with the force of my own passion. He kept pushing and pushing and when he was finally certain that he could not push me further, he pulled back and rolled us so that I was on top, straddling him, and I found new strength that I couldn’t possibly manage while I’d lain beneath him.
His hands were urging on my hips, but I was already moving. I wanted him to feel this bliss I was feeling, and I wanted to be the only thing he saw when he felt it. I stared into his eyes, black with desire, and watched a bead of sweat trail down his forehead and into his hair. His skin was red, his chest heaving. All I could hear was his gasping voice and the wet slaps of our bodies meeting.
