Consolations

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Sorry again about the wait for updates I've had a lot of health problems and have been in and out of hospital. (Unedited)

A small sexual content warning

Violet could not shake the desperate sense of unease she experienced as she stared blankly from the balastrades. She knew that the reports must be false; Philip could not live, not after she herself had thrust a dagger through his chest. It was impossible, wasn't it? But what if he were alive, would he come for her? For William? The thought made her stomach lurch. When she had seen her husband for the first time after the horrors of that day it was as though she were seeing him anew. She was thankful for every beam of light that danced across his skin as he kissed away her hysterical tears. 

"What are you fretting about now?" Amelia's voice carried along the breeze. She appeared beside her sister, hugging her arms about her shoulders to keep out the cold. The look on Violet's face told her all she needed to know. 

"He has not lived, surely you must know this is simply fanciful gossip" 

Violet and William had arrived this morning from Rington with the unfortunate news. Her sister had insisted in her usual detached way that they were merely here for a timely visit, but one look at her expression and the unease in William's eyes told Amelia all she needed to know. Violet was shaken and sought refuge in the place she not so long ago had been held prisoner. 

"And what if it is not?" Violet turned to ask her, bright blue eyes shining with fear in a rare candid moment. Amelia reached out and delicately placed a hand on her arm, at the contact her sister froze and composure washed over her features as she shrugged her off. Amelia couldn't help but feel a slight sting of rejection. Violet had always been cold and distant, though now in William's company she was transformed. It seemed however that her openness and empathy was still reserved only for him. Whatever had happened in Elereld while they were both prisoners must have have been quite profound and left William with the key to Violet's humanity. Amelia only wished he would lend it to her every once in a while. 

"Of course it is mere gossip" Violet broke the silence dismissively "If he lived he would have been captured and brought here by now" 

"Is that why you are here then?" Amelia demanded "Would you rejoice were he alive?" 

"Do not be ridiculous" 

***

Thomas hated the situation this woman had put him in. 

How was he supposed to terrorize her into never escaping again after just swooping in like a knight in shining armour and saving her so valiantly. He should not have liked the way she had clung to him in terror but he did and it was terrible. He had had many women and a few blondes that looked quite a bit like her yet he never felt this kind of attachment. The only person that had ever made him feel this was Amelia, even the image of her face brought a stab of discomfort along with it. He did not want to relive the experience of unrequited love and the humiliation it caused. Thomas told himself that the only reason he was so attracted to Annabelle was because he had to give her back in a matter of days. He had never liked sharing his toys. 

Now he was stuck playing nursemaid to the girl as she lay unconscious in the bed beside him. Perhaps it was her vulnerability that was so alluring to him, particularly as she lay helpless covered in the dried blood of her attacker. It had infuriated him to see that fool manhandle her, even more so when he had time to truly inspect her face and see she had been beaten. Thomas felt no remorse for killing the man, he was a waste of space on God's green earth. 

Yes. It was definetely her sleeping that was getting to him, it allowed his gaze to wander across her sillouette. Even grimy and dishevelled she was still incredibly beautiful. Thomas shook her awake. 

"Leave me alone!" she shrieked, her eyes flying open. Thomas held up his hands in surrender. Her breathing gradually calmed as she took quick stock of her surroundings and assessed no pressing threat. Her gaze narrowed in on him and she waited like a cornered animal for him to attack. 

"Now is that any way to treat your unlikely hero?" he grinned and was rewarded with a look of pure loathing

"Look it's not my fault you ran away looking for trouble but we have to get out of here now" he gestured to the meagre surroundings of the room. No doubt the two women had sent word of their escape with a messenger and Annabelle's dear brother could be descending upon them at any moment. He did not want to let her go so easily, particularly without any monetary compensation for his efforts. 

"If you have any honour at all you will leave me here for my brother to find" she spat, clenching the sheets in her fists with rage. She really was quite bewitching when enraged, particularly with the morning sun streaming through the window and illuminating her delicate features. Thomas shook himself out of his reverie. 

"We've already maintained that I have none so let's go" 

***

Elizabeth arched her back in impatient need, burying her fingers in his hair and urging him on as he took the delicate rosebud of her breast between his teeth. She felt no hesitation as she unabashedly gave into the pleasure he doled out. Each moan and whimper of hers seemed to drive him madder in the feverish scrape of his teeth against her skin. When it seemed as though she could take no more of this torment, he pulled away and gripped her chin with his fingers forcing her gaze to meet his own. This act of dominance fed the fire within her and she had no reservations about begging for what she so desperately wanted, she felt him press against her, teasing her with the agonising anticipation of what was to come...

Elizabeth woke with a start; panting and soaked in sweat. It had felt so real all of it, for a second she dubiously looked at the bed beside her expecting to find the man there. Instead her bed was empty and Phillip lay sleeping on the settee. What in God's name had her dreaming so vividly about the man who had vowed to kill her? Well damn that God had nothing to do with it. It was more likely the work of the Devil himself. She pushed away the tendrils of hair that had fallen over her face and took a deep breath. Elizabeth was no blushing maiden and scorned the coil of desire that had formed uncomfortably in her belly, what was she thinking? She wouldn't sleep with that traitor if he were the last man on this great green earth...

An idea forced its way to the forefront of her mind and gave her pause. Perhaps her dream had not been so ridiculous after all. Instead it maybe was a clue into how she would escape the grim fate Phillip had set for her. Elizabeth had experienced firsthand the sentimentality of men, particularly in close quarters. 

Perhaps it was not running away that would save her, but seduction. 

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