by Tia Siren
And indeed in the beginning, it looked as though he was well on his way towards winning back the money he had lost at the horse race, along with much more. And then his luck changed, and he and Samuel couldn’t win a hand in ten straight. His purse felt lighter and lighter, until finally, it was empty.
Despair and panic set in.
“I need a loan,” David said, turning to Red.
The Irish man laughed and shook his head, taking a moment to sip from a glass of brandy that had been brought to him by a pretty young woman earlier in the night.
“I think not,” Red said as he put the glass down. “You are my friend, and I do not want to mix business and friendship.”
“Please,” David said, leaning to the side, closer to Red. “My father…”
He trailed off, and Red shook his head slowly. “Is no concern of mine,” he said. “If you have no more money for me to win, perhaps you should leave.”
Red looked at David with narrowed eyes, and then they flicked to the doorway that led back towards the main hall of the gentlemen’s establishment. David was being dismissed, and he knew it. He stood, mustering up courage to keep some dignity intact, and he bowed his head after gathering his hat from a nearby rack.
“Gentlemen,” he said, and then he left.
Outside of the club he pulled on his overcoat, and went to stop one of the passing cabs. Though it was late, the sky fully dark with an inky black and tiny pinpricks of light, the cabs were heavy in this area, as popular as it was. One pulled to a stop in front of David and the driver looked to him.
“Where to, sir?” he asked, and David was about to tell him as he stepped forward and placed his hand on the frame of the cab to steady himself as he climbed in. He stopped though, and stepped back, looking up to the driver as he realized he had no money now, and couldn’t pay for a ride home.
“Never mind,” David said, shaking his head. “It’s a nice night for a walk, I think.”
The driver shivered in the cool air as the wind picked up, and he smirked. “Sure,” he said, and with a crack of the reins the carriage rumbled off down the street, and David began to walk. He was worried what his father would say.
3
Elizabeth Crawford was nineteen, three years younger than the man who loved her. He was named Rupert Eastman, and sat in the Crawford garden with Elizabeth as they drank tea, and he tried to steal glances of her long slender neck. Her neck was the most attractive part of an attractive package, at least in Rupert's eyes. She was fair skinned and fair of head, with long blonde hair which often sat flowing down her shoulders and to the small of her back. He body was shaped like an hourglass, with a thin waist and robust hips, and a large bosom. Most men looked there, Rupert new, at the top of her pale breasts as they sat in the low necklines of her gowns and dresses. But her neck was what he enjoyed most.
There was a small freckle there, on the right side of her neck, a lone dark spot in a sea of milky white. He imagined kissing it, imagined nibbling it. But Elizabeth he knew, was promised to another man. A scoundrel, a rake named Weatherby. He was a compulsive gambler younger than Rupert was, and though he had nary a quality which Rupert appreciated, for some reason Elizabeth was taken with the man.
The Crawford’s and Weatherby’s were long-time friends, both in the banking business, but never letting their competing banks get in the way of friendship. Often they would find ways to work together.
Elizabeth sipped from her tea cup and then set it on the small saucer. A table sat between her and her friend Rupert. She looked him over as he appeared lost in thought, though he was looking right at her. They had known each other for a decade, ever since Rupert’s father had come to manage her daddy’s bank. She liked the man, and he was handsome, but she had been promised to David by the time she began to take notice in men, so she never entertained the idea of Rupert. He had a strong jaw, and broad shoulders, and she knew there wasn’t a man stronger than him in the city. She also knew there wasn’t a man who cared for her more.
“What are you looking at?” she inquired, smiling a bit as Rupert jerked back slightly in sudden surprise as she spoke.
“Nothing,” Rupert said, reaching for his cup of tea and lifting it to his lips.
“Well, you were looking pretty intently at nothing,” the young girl teased. Rupert set his cup down and smiled.
“Very well, can I show you what I was looking at?”
He stood and stepped forward. Elizabeth looked up to him. “You may,” she said. He held out his hand and she took it, and after standing he led her into the beautiful garden. She wore a beautiful dress, which was the color of eggshells, with pink lining. She had a shawl draped over her shoulders, as the weather was growing colder, and that morning was chill. There wouldn’t be many opportunities for tea in the morning outside for a few months.
Rupert led her past a large thicket of rose bushes, to a small bench. He sat down and she sat next to him.
“Lizzie,” he said, using a pet name he had used for years. “I was looking at you. Or rather, a part of you.”
Elizabeth laughed, turning towards the man. “I am used to men looking at that part of me, but that isn’t where I saw your eyes.”
Rupert grinned and reached over and took her hand. “I am not talking about… that part… I’m talking about the small freckle you have on your neck.”
Elizabeth turned her head so he may see it easier, looking straight ahead instead of at him.
“My freckle? Why would you look at that?”
“I adore it. And you. Your neck, your hands, your eyes, every part of you. But that freckle, it made me want to kiss it, to nibble it.”
Elizabeth felt something grow inside her, a yearning, a want. She closed her eyes, and he next words were almost so low he couldn’t hear them. “You may.”
Rupert leaned forward. “I may?”
“You may kiss me there. Nibble me.”
Rupert didn’t need to be told again. He shifted his upper body to face her, and then leaned forward. His lips found the side of her neck and Elizabeth tilted her head back and closed her eyes. His lips upon her were like fireworks in her loins. She felt a desire there, one she didn’t feel often. HIs hand left hers and rested on her leg, though it was hard to feel him there through the layers of skirt. His other hand went around her back, resting on her side.
“Rupert,” she whispered, but he didn’t say anything. He kept kissing and sucking on her neck, and Elizabeth felt as though she was moments away from turning her head and kissing him on the lips.
“Miss Elizabeth,” a voice called, and Rupert quit kissing her quickly, standing and spinning around to face who had spoken. It was Ms. Hedson, an old woman who had been a servant for Elizabeth’s family for quite some time.
“What is it, Beverly?” Elizabeth asked, standing as well and using the woman’s first name.
“Mr. David Weatherby is here to see you,” she said, and then she turned to leave. Elizabeth glanced at Rupert, but a dark shadow had crossed over his face seemingly within seconds.
“I must be going,” he said, and he strode away without waiting for a goodbye. Elizabeth sighed and then went to meet with David.
He stood in the parlor, looking at a large globe there, wooden and heave in a stand which allowed you to rotate it. She took a moment in the doorway to look him over. He was handsome, that was to be sure, even more so than Rupert. David’s frame was smaller, thinner, but he was a bit taller. His hair was as dark as the sea at night, and his eyes just as dark, though they somehow still managed to shine.
“Mr. Weatherby,” Elizabeth said as way to get his attention, and he turned.
“Hello, my dear,” he said, striding to her and taking her hand so he may kiss it.
“If you are here to attempt to bed me,” Elizabeth said with narrowed eyes, “then you may as well leave. Until we are married, the answer is the same.”
David laughed aloud and then slapped a hand over his chest, where his heart beat. “You
offend me!” he said loudly. “You think such thoughts about me.”
“You have only seemed interested in me for one thing,” Elizabeth said. She wanted to go on, but she couldn’t. While she had resisted David’s charm for quite some time, she hadn’t resisted falling in love with the man. For all his faults he was kind and caring when he wanted to be, and he loved his family and friends fiercely. He was a kind warm man, and Elizabeth craved to be the one to bring it out of him.
“I came to speak to you about marriage,” the man said, and Elizabeth was surprised.
“What about it?”
“I think the time has come for us to be joined,” he said, taking her hand once more.
Elizabeth was startled, and she said a joke to give herself time to register what he was saying. “You must have lost all of your money, and now you’re coming for my father’s.”
It had been meant as a joke, but the flash of surprise that ran across the man’s face told her instantly that she had stumbled across the truth in the form of a jest.
She pulled his hand away from his. “You really seek to marry me for money?”
David knew there was no point in lying, and so he told the truth. It didn’t matter what the truth was, she was promised to him, and he would have her. “My father has cut me off. Last night he made me sleep at an inn. I have nowhere to go and no money.”
“And so you seek to marry me for my father’s money.”
“He will give us an allowance, and me one of his banks to run, as my own father had promised to do until yesterday.”
“I will not marry you,” Elizabeth said, shaking her head. “Not for that reason.”
“You are my beloved and betrothed,” David said. “You must.”
“I am not your beloved, you have never loved me.”
“I care for you. That hurts me to hear you say.”
“And then you are hurt,” Elizabeth said, “and it bothers me none. Please, leave here.”
“I will speak to your father,” David said simply, and then he did turn and leave.
Elizabeth watched him go, and then slumped down to a nearby chair and began to cry.
4
The same evening that she had spoken to David, Elizabeth was called in to her father’s study. He sat behind a large desk, signing his name to a stack of documents.
“My dear,” the old man said when he saw his only daughter. In fact, she was his only child, her mother having died giving birth to her, and her father knowing he could never love someone as much as he had her.
“Daddy,” Elizabeth said. She went forward and sat at the desk, opposite her father.
“David Weatherby came to see me today. He wishes to finally marry you,” her father said as he kept singing papers.
“He wants your money,” she said.
“As your husband he would be entitled to it. I thought you cared for him. You’ve known him for so long.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I do care for him,” she said. “But I want my husband to care for me.”
“Like Rupert?” her father asked.
“Yes,” Elizabeth said without thought.
“I would be happy for you to marry either man,” her father said.
“But I’m promised to David.”
“A promise can be broken, his father spoke with me today, and told me as much. He warned me that David may come to make good on the promise. He has been cut off from his father, and will remain so for some time, if not ever.”
“You won’t make me marry him?”
“No. Rupert has asked me for your hand, you know. He cares about you a great deal. If you so choose, I will grant him the request.”
Elizabeth’s head was swimming. She nodded and stood. “I need to think on it,” she said, and she moved around her father’s desk to kiss the man on his cheek before departing.
The next day she sent a few servants out to find David. When he was located he agreed to meet Elizabeth at her home for lunch. They dined on sandwiches in the garden, and drank lemonade brewed by Ms. Hudson.
“I’m glad you asked to see me,” David said.
“I have something to tell you,” she said, looking across the table to him. “My father will not force me to marry you. Your father agrees.”
David tried to keep the anger from his face, but failed to do so. “That isn’t fair,” he said.
“However, stupid as I may be, I care for you greatly, and want you to care for me as well.”
“I do care for you, Elizabeth.”
“Then prove it. You have seven days to change my mind. As it is now, I will not marry you. Within a week, you may change that.”
“I have seven days to make you want to marry me? Is this a game?”
“No, it is not a game,” Elizabeth said, shaking her head. “And I hope you won’t treat it as one. You’ve played enough games, have you not?”
David said nothing.
“Good day, Mr. Weatherby,” Elizabeth said, before his lunch was even done.
He stood up and bowed his head. “Elizabeth,” he said, and he walked away.
Outside, David was furious, but he attempted to remain collected. He would simply have to sweep the young woman off of her feet. He had done it numerous times to others. How hard would it be?
He went to his father’s home to speak with his oldest sister, Gwen, who was five years younger than him. His father was at the bank, and so they sat in the drawing room and spoke. He told her of his plan, and the seven days he had to make her change her mind about marrying him.
“What are you going to do?” Gwen asked her brother.
“That’s why I’m speaking with you,” David said with a roguish grin. “How do I sweep this girl off of her bull headed feet?”
“Don’t refer to her as bull headed, for one,” Gwen said, and they shared a laugh.
“I don’t know what to do,” David said when the laughter faded.
“Girls like pretty things,” Gwen said.
“Pretty things cost money,” David said.
“Didn’t you have anything saved? Tucked away?”
David sighed and shook his head. “No,” he said shortly.
“Well, luckily for you, I have,” Gwen said. “You may have it, if you promise to pay me back.”
“Why do you have money?” David asked. “A man will provide for you.”
“A man like you?” Gwen said dryly, and she stood and disappeared for a moment. When she returned, she had a small purse with her, and she pressed it into her brother’s hand.
“Thank you,” David said, and he meant it. His little sisters had always been shining spots in his life, and now one of them had done this, and he felt a wave of gratitude and love wash over him. He stood and hugged his sister, and then departed in a hurry.
It was growing dark by the time he returned to Elizabeth’s home. He was let into the parlor once more, and she arrived shortly.
“I did not expect you back so soon,” she said.
David stepped to her, took her hand and kissed it, and then held a box out to her.
“This is for you,” he said.
She took the box and opened it. She looked to him and smiled. “It’s beautiful,” she said, lifting the fine golden chain from the box. It was a necklace, with a small azure pendant hanging from it.
“Will you be my wife?” David said, and Elizabeth laughed.
“No,” she said. “But thank whoever gave you the money for this.” She paused. “Buying me gifts is not what I am concerned about,” she added, even as she put the chain around her neck. She turned around, holding her hair up, and David stepped forward to lock the chain into place.
“Thank you,” she said. “If there’s nothing else, I think I’ll retire early for the night.” David nodded his head and left, feeling more discouraged than he ever had. He needed to marry that girl, or he didn’t know what he was going to do. His father seemed intent on keeping his money from his son.
He returned to the shabby Inn his father
had agreed to put him into for a month, while he found his own way in the world, and he fell asleep quickly.
5
Elizabeth was surprised that two days stretched on without a visit from David Weatherby. She wondered if the man had simply given up. She went to sleep on the third night after giving him the ultimatum with thoughts of him in her head. She woke to a light tapping, and it took her a moment in her drowsy state to realize the tapping was coming from one of the windows in her bedroom. She rubbed at her eyes and looked towards the window, gasping when she saw David’s face there.
She hurried to the window and pulled it open. “What are you doing?” she asked as he climbed inside. “How did you get up here?”
“I’ve always been adept at climbing, as you’ll remember from our time as children in my father’s garden with that large oak tree.
“Why have you climbed into my room?” she asked.
“I cannot give up on you,” he said, and he bent down and pressed his lips to hers before she could stop him, and once the kiss was happening, she did not want to stop him. He tasted of rum, she was sure he had been drinking before he had come. But it was enjoyable, surprisingly, and when she parted her lips slightly he took advantage, and their tongues were dancing together.
She was wearing a white night gown which covered her to her ankles. But the thin material did little to stop him from feeling her body, first with his hands which he placed on her hips, and then with his body when he pulled her close to him. Her breasts were pushed up against his chest, and she felt her nipples harden as his tongue continued to explore his mouth. One hand left her hip and traveled up her back, stopping for a moment at the small of her back, where he pulled her even closer, and she felt his engorged member push against the bottom of her stomach. And then his hand kept going, and his fingers entwined in her long hair. The kiss broke.
“What are you doing?” she said with a moan.
“Be quiet,” David commanded, and she listened. He pushed her back towards her bed, and she fell upon it. She scooted back and he came onto the bed as well, holding himself over her and kissing her once more. Then he broke the kiss and his lips planted a trail of kisses on her chin, down her throat, and onto the portion of her chest which was exposed. His long, strong fingers hooked into the neckline of her nightgown and he tugged it down, freeing her breasts. He looked at her for a moment, and she watched him looking, her breath caught in her chest, her hands balled into fists and drawn close to her body, almost covering her breasts. Her nipples were dark pink, hard rosebuds atop pale white mounds of ample bosom. She couldn’t take his staring any more, it embarrassed her, but she was excited, a steamy longing in her womanhood. She pressed her palms to her breasts in an effort to cover up.
