Chapter 10
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He laughed a little, his skin flushed, and his eyes dancing at her. "I've not had a mistress since I had you, and well, I could happily stay abed with you all day. But probably it will still be early enough to put in significant travel time this afternoon." He added, "The bulk of the servants have already gone ahead to London, yesterday, including my chef. I'll have to send word that I shall be delayed."
He pulled her gently toward the bed, though this time he flipped up the cover and drew her in beneath it. After a little she asked, "How do you know where to kiss to make me shiver?"
Mark paused. "Experience," he answered a little warily.
"Oh," she said.
"I have a great deal more of it, and many more years than you?" he offered. "How old are you anyway love?" he asked and kissed her again.
"Twenty," she answered with another flush, "nearly twenty-one. My birthday is," she was surprised to realize, "in just about a week."
"Oh dear," he teased, "nearly on the shelf."
She trembled. "You say that, as if you are entirely joking. But when other people say it, they are completely serious," she complained.
"I'm sorry love," he said and kissed her a little more. "But you are still just a babe to me. And you can console yourself with the thought that you needn't worry, as you've managed to catch a Marques?"
She froze in his arms, and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, back to wet her ears. "Mark," came out as something like a sob. Uncertainly he lifted up away from her, and touched the trails of tears. "This isn't, this wasn't some sort of scheme," she said miserably.
"I know that, Elizabeth, love," he replied, "better than anyone. Because if it had been a scheme, you would never have let me leave the library, without some promise of marriage." He leaned in and kissed her tears. "And I ought to have offered then anyway. I was prepared to, until you refused to tell me your name." He winced, and ran his thumb along her jaw, "And then, since it seemed that you wished to prevent any association being known, I thought perhaps you already had someone else you wished to marry. So I said nothing."
She gazed up at him, eyes wide, and shook her head.
"I'm sorry," he said, and kissed her gently. "I ought to have at least made myself known as a potential suitor. Or something. If I had tried to visit you, you would not have had such a difficult time in reaching me."
She shook her head and said, "No, I didn't tell you who I was."
"But it would have been very easy for me to find out," he pointed out wryly. "If I'd simply asked my Aunt the name of my dinner companion across the table, for instance. The only reason I did not, was because I was slightly miffed that you didn't wish me to know." He kissed her more firmly. "It's entirely my fault," he added, "don't worry. Don't cry."
"Oh," Elizabeth said quietly. There was another little pause in conversation, while caresses and kisses were exchanged. "If getting a license is difficult, couldn't we just post the bans? And as to permission, I'd be of age before they finish?"
He considered it and replied, "We could, though I would rather get a license and avoid some of the inevitable rumors, and besides what if your parents were informed and objected? Under the circumstances, I would prefer to have you safely married as quietly and as soon as possible." After thinking a little more, he suggested, "Let us return to London as I had been planning to do, and arrange to marry quietly on your birthday. It might be faster to go to your father for permission, but it might not."
Elizabeth nodded. After a little more she asked, "How old are you?"
"Thirty-four," was the slightly muffled and breathless reply.
"Oh," she said again. "I suppose that's why Mama..." she didn't continue the sentence, distracted by other things.
After a bit he queried, "I take it that my advanced age is one of your Mama's objections?"
"Not an objection," she gasped in protest, "she only asked, if you weren't, too old, for me." It took a little longer, but possibly felt even better than previously. Afterward Elizabeth was overcome by a wave of exhaustion.
"Shall we get dressed?" Mark asked her, nuzzling against her cheek.
She pried her eyes open again. "May I sleep a bit instead?" she asked.
He frowned a little and said, "You can, but then we'll have to tarry here until tomorrow." He bit his lip, "I'd rather go on today, if we can? Do you think you could sleep in the coach?"
"Alright," she sighed, and they rose. She pulled on her short corset, her chemise, and the borrowed woolen shift which was a bit short in every dimension except across. Then put on the gown, which she had to ask Mark to lace up for her. He did so, amused, and himself already completely dressed once more. She eyed him wryly, and sat on a small chair set before a vanity. "Do you have a comb?" she queried.
He rummaged a little and came up with one, she combed out her hair and braided it quickly, pinning the coil it made to her head with the eight remaining pins. Then from the messenger bag she withdrew a small pouch, and from it drew a strand of small pearls interspersed along a silver chain, and the matching ear drops.
"You brought your jewelry?" Mark asked, amused, as she clipped them on.
She flushed again and replied, "I know it seems silly, for I risked having them stolen, but I thought I might have to sell or trade them along the way. I didn't want to get stranded part way with no resources to fall back on."
"Reasonable," was his comment.
Elizabeth added, "I thought I may as well wear them?"
Mark nodded.
On exiting the bed chamber, he called for Andrew, and Stubbins as the butler was named. Stubbins, it seemed, was a permanent resident of the country estate, along with his wife who acted as housekeeper and cook when the Marques visited without his full household. Several maids and footmen, and a larger number of groundskeepers and grooms were also in permanent residence.
The Marques informed them of his intent to take his bride back to London with him and arrange the marriage with the appropriate parish or parishes there. Lord Waverly did not usually attend church unless his mother required his escort, nor was she herself particularly devout, so he was a little vague on the specifics.
And if Stubbins thereafter regarded the young lady with more favor than his earlier expressions indicated, it went unnoticed by her, for in his view overly effusive expressions were undesirable in proper staff.
The Marques then asked Andrew if he thought it still early enough in the day to leave, to which the competent Andrew answered affirmatively. Mark explained to Elizabeth that Andrew was his secretary, when he noted her curious expression. Several more orders were given, before Mark turned to Elizabeth and said, with a smile, "You see, I am rather spoiled and helpless as well, we shall do well together."
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He laughed a little, his skin flushed, and his eyes dancing at her. "I've not had a mistress since I had you, and well, I could happily stay abed with you all day. But probably it will still be early enough to put in significant travel time this afternoon." He added, "The bulk of the servants have already gone ahead to London, yesterday, including my chef. I'll have to send word that I shall be delayed."
He pulled her gently toward the bed, though this time he flipped up the cover and drew her in beneath it. After a little she asked, "How do you know where to kiss to make me shiver?"
Mark paused. "Experience," he answered a little warily.
"Oh," she said.
"I have a great deal more of it, and many more years than you?" he offered. "How old are you anyway love?" he asked and kissed her again.
"Twenty," she answered with another flush, "nearly twenty-one. My birthday is," she was surprised to realize, "in just about a week."
"Oh dear," he teased, "nearly on the shelf."
She trembled. "You say that, as if you are entirely joking. But when other people say it, they are completely serious," she complained.
"I'm sorry love," he said and kissed her a little more. "But you are still just a babe to me. And you can console yourself with the thought that you needn't worry, as you've managed to catch a Marques?"
She froze in his arms, and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, back to wet her ears. "Mark," came out as something like a sob. Uncertainly he lifted up away from her, and touched the trails of tears. "This isn't, this wasn't some sort of scheme," she said miserably.
"I know that, Elizabeth, love," he replied, "better than anyone. Because if it had been a scheme, you would never have let me leave the library, without some promise of marriage." He leaned in and kissed her tears. "And I ought to have offered then anyway. I was prepared to, until you refused to tell me your name." He winced, and ran his thumb along her jaw, "And then, since it seemed that you wished to prevent any association being known, I thought perhaps you already had someone else you wished to marry. So I said nothing."
She gazed up at him, eyes wide, and shook her head.
"I'm sorry," he said, and kissed her gently. "I ought to have at least made myself known as a potential suitor. Or something. If I had tried to visit you, you would not have had such a difficult time in reaching me."
She shook her head and said, "No, I didn't tell you who I was."
"But it would have been very easy for me to find out," he pointed out wryly. "If I'd simply asked my Aunt the name of my dinner companion across the table, for instance. The only reason I did not, was because I was slightly miffed that you didn't wish me to know." He kissed her more firmly. "It's entirely my fault," he added, "don't worry. Don't cry."
"Oh," Elizabeth said quietly. There was another little pause in conversation, while caresses and kisses were exchanged. "If getting a license is difficult, couldn't we just post the bans? And as to permission, I'd be of age before they finish?"
He considered it and replied, "We could, though I would rather get a license and avoid some of the inevitable rumors, and besides what if your parents were informed and objected? Under the circumstances, I would prefer to have you safely married as quietly and as soon as possible." After thinking a little more, he suggested, "Let us return to London as I had been planning to do, and arrange to marry quietly on your birthday. It might be faster to go to your father for permission, but it might not."
Elizabeth nodded. After a little more she asked, "How old are you?"
"Thirty-four," was the slightly muffled and breathless reply.
"Oh," she said again. "I suppose that's why Mama..." she didn't continue the sentence, distracted by other things.
After a bit he queried, "I take it that my advanced age is one of your Mama's objections?"
"Not an objection," she gasped in protest, "she only asked, if you weren't, too old, for me." It took a little longer, but possibly felt even better than previously. Afterward Elizabeth was overcome by a wave of exhaustion.
"Shall we get dressed?" Mark asked her, nuzzling against her cheek.
She pried her eyes open again. "May I sleep a bit instead?" she asked.
He frowned a little and said, "You can, but then we'll have to tarry here until tomorrow." He bit his lip, "I'd rather go on today, if we can? Do you think you could sleep in the coach?"
"Alright," she sighed, and they rose. She pulled on her short corset, her chemise, and the borrowed woolen shift which was a bit short in every dimension except across. Then put on the gown, which she had to ask Mark to lace up for her. He did so, amused, and himself already completely dressed once more. She eyed him wryly, and sat on a small chair set before a vanity. "Do you have a comb?" she queried.
He rummaged a little and came up with one, she combed out her hair and braided it quickly, pinning the coil it made to her head with the eight remaining pins. Then from the messenger bag she withdrew a small pouch, and from it drew a strand of small pearls interspersed along a silver chain, and the matching ear drops.
"You brought your jewelry?" Mark asked, amused, as she clipped them on.
She flushed again and replied, "I know it seems silly, for I risked having them stolen, but I thought I might have to sell or trade them along the way. I didn't want to get stranded part way with no resources to fall back on."
"Reasonable," was his comment.
Elizabeth added, "I thought I may as well wear them?"
Mark nodded.
On exiting the bed chamber, he called for Andrew, and Stubbins as the butler was named. Stubbins, it seemed, was a permanent resident of the country estate, along with his wife who acted as housekeeper and cook when the Marques visited without his full household. Several maids and footmen, and a larger number of groundskeepers and grooms were also in permanent residence.
The Marques informed them of his intent to take his bride back to London with him and arrange the marriage with the appropriate parish or parishes there. Lord Waverly did not usually attend church unless his mother required his escort, nor was she herself particularly devout, so he was a little vague on the specifics.
And if Stubbins thereafter regarded the young lady with more favor than his earlier expressions indicated, it went unnoticed by her, for in his view overly effusive expressions were undesirable in proper staff.
The Marques then asked Andrew if he thought it still early enough in the day to leave, to which the competent Andrew answered affirmatively. Mark explained to Elizabeth that Andrew was his secretary, when he noted her curious expression. Several more orders were given, before Mark turned to Elizabeth and said, with a smile, "You see, I am rather spoiled and helpless as well, we shall do well together."
He laughed a little, his skin flushed, and his eyes dancing at her. "I've not had a mistress since I had you, and well, I could happily stay abed with you all day. But probably it will still be early enough to put in significant travel time this afternoon." He added, "The bulk of the servants have already gone ahead to London, yesterday, including my chef. I'll have to send word that I shall be delayed." He pulled her gently toward the bed, though this time he flipped up the cover and drew her in beneath it. After a little she asked, "How do you know where to kiss to make me shiver?" Mark paused. "Experience," he answered a little warily. "Oh," she said. "I have a great deal more of it, and many more years than you?" he offered. "How old are you anyway love?" he asked and kissed her again. "Twenty," she answered with another flush, "nearly twenty-one. My birthday is," she was surprised to realize, "in just about a week." "Oh dear," he teased, "nearly on the shelf." She trembled. "You say that, as if you are entirely joking. But when other people say it, they are completely serious," she complained. "I'm sorry love," he said and kissed her a little more. "But you are still just a babe to me. And you can console yourself with the thought that you needn't worry, as you've managed to catch a Marques?" She froze in his arms, and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, back to wet her ears. "Mark," came out as something like a sob. Uncertainly he lifted up away from her, and touched the trails of tears. "This isn't, this wasn't some sort of scheme," she said miserably. "I know that, Elizabeth, love," he replied, "better than anyone. Because if it had been a scheme, you would never have let me leave the library, without some promise of marriage." He leaned in and kissed her tears. "And I ought to have offered then anyway. I was prepared to, until you refused to tell me your name." He winced, and ran his thumb along her jaw, "And then, since it seemed that you wished to prevent any association being known, I thought perhaps you already had someone else you wished to marry. So I said nothing." She gazed up at him, eyes wide, and shook her head. "I'm sorry," he said, and kissed her gently. "I ought to have at least made myself known as a potential suitor. Or something. If I had tried to visit you, you would not have had such a difficult time in reaching me." She shook her head and said, "No, I didn't tell you who I was." "But it would have been very easy for me to find out," he pointed out wryly. "If I'd simply asked my Aunt the name of my dinner companion across the table, for instance. The only reason I did not, was because I was slightly miffed that you didn't wish me to know." He kissed her more firmly. "It's entirely my fault," he added, "don't worry. Don't cry." "Oh," Elizabeth said quietly. There was another little pause in conversation, while caresses and kisses were exchanged. "If getting a license is difficult, couldn't we just post the bans? And as to permission, I'd be of age before they finish?" He considered it and replied, "We could, though I would rather get a license and avoid some of the inevitable rumors, and besides what if your parents were informed and objected? Under the circumstances, I would prefer to have you safely married as quietly and as soon as possible." After thinking a little more, he suggested, "Let us return to London as I had been planning to do, and arrange to marry quietly on your birthday. It might be faster to go to your father for permission, but it might not." Elizabeth nodded. After a little more she asked, "How old are you?" "Thirty-four," was the slightly muffled and breathless reply. "Oh," she said again. "I suppose that's why Mama..." she didn't continue the sentence, distracted by other things. After a bit he queried, "I take it that my advanced age is one of your Mama's objections?" "Not an objection," she gasped in protest, "she only asked, if you weren't, too old, for me." It took a little longer, but possibly felt even better than previously. Afterward Elizabeth was overcome by a wave of exhaustion. "Shall we get dressed?" Mark asked her, nuzzling against her cheek. She pried her eyes open again. "May I sleep a bit instead?" she asked. He frowned a little and said, "You can, but then we'll have to tarry here until tomorrow." He bit his lip, "I'd rather go on today, if we can? Do you think you could sleep in the coach?" "Alright," she sighed, and they rose. She pulled on her short corset, her chemise, and the borrowed woolen shift which was a bit short in every dimension except across. Then put on the gown, which she had to ask Mark to lace up for her. He did so, amused, and himself already completely dressed once more. She eyed him wryly, and sat on a small chair set before a vanity. "Do you have a comb?" she queried. He rummaged a little and came up with one, she combed out her hair and braided it quickly, pinning the coil it made to her head with the eight remaining pins. Then from the messenger bag she withdrew a small pouch, and from it drew a strand of small pearls interspersed along a silver chain, and the matching ear drops. "You brought your jewelry?" Mark asked, amused, as she clipped them on. She flushed again and replied, "I know it seems silly, for I risked having them stolen, but I thought I might have to sell or trade them along the way. I didn't want to get stranded part way with no resources to fall back on." "Reasonable," was his comment. Elizabeth added, "I thought I may as well wear them?" Mark nodded. On exiting the bed chamber, he called for Andrew, and Stubbins as the butler was named. Stubbins, it seemed, was a permanent resident of the country estate, along with his wife who acted as housekeeper and cook when the Marques visited without his full household. Several maids and footmen, and a larger number of groundskeepers and grooms were also in permanent residence. The Marques informed them of his intent to take his bride back to London with him and arrange the marriage with the appropriate parish or parishes there. Lord Waverly did not usually attend church unless his mother required his escort, nor was she herself particularly devout, so he was a little vague on the specifics. And if Stubbins thereafter regarded the young lady with more favor than his earlier expressions indicated, it went unnoticed by her, for in his view overly effusive expressions were undesirable in proper staff. The Marques then asked Andrew if he thought it still early enough in the day to leave, to which the competent Andrew answered affirmatively. Mark explained to Elizabeth that Andrew was his secretary, when he noted her curious expression. Several more orders were given, before Mark turned to Elizabeth and said, with a smile, "You see, I am rather spoiled and helpless as well, we shall do well together."
