Till The Clock Strikes Gone

33 | conflicted

Harvey Scott was reading a book. His glasses were placed low on his nose and Eliza watched as he turned pages after pages quickly. Her father was a fast reader, she knew that. She had seen him complete lengthy novels in a single day. However, right now it seemed like he just wanted to avoid talking to her. His face was fixed in a frown and she didn't know if it was for her or for himself but one thing was clear — the conversation she wanted to have with him would have to wait.

It had been two days since the night of Christmas. Two nights since she had slept with William and he had then locked himself in his house and she hadn't seen him. Now, she wanted to as she longed for company and she didn't want that company to be her poor, old father whose reputation had diminished quite a bit in her eyes since his Christmas tale. She had called James in the morning and he told her that he was in Paris with Arabella. Now with Eliza gone from the picture, they were together and she was happy for them. Even though it hurt.

She rose from the couch from where she had been observing Harvey and walked out of the hall. Her father didn't call her back. She sighed and grabbed her coat from the stand near the door. Wearing it over her black frock, she grabbed her boots and chose to head out to William's.

The weather was chilly when she stepped out and for a moment she missed her warm bed but then she remembered the heat of William's body and something made her like the second option of keeping herself warm better. With a sly grin, she crossed the snow-covered street to William's house.

He was upset with her. She understood that but she missed him and she knew exactly how to calm down his anger. She knocked at his door.

"It's open." He shouted from inside and smiled. Turning the knob, she pushed open the door. It opened with the creek of old wood and she saw the sight of him sitting at his desk, busy scribbling something on a sheet of paper. His eyes focused deeply on it.

When he looked up to spot her, she saw an anxious look cross his ruggedly handsome face and she was surprised when he hurriedly hid the paper in between some other books. He then turned back to look at her as she entered and locked the door.

"What are you doing here, Scott?" he scowled and she flinched at the harshness in his voice.

"Don't yell at me," she said and he scoffed before turning back to place his arms on his desk.

"Get out of here."

His words weren't welcoming and she could feel how upset he was with her but she wasn't going to give up. She opened her boots, got out of her coat and threw it on his bed. The heater in the room was on but still, the chill caught her and she shivered.

"William," she called out, placing her hands on her hips. He turned to her and was surprised to see her without her coat or a sweater.

"What are you doing? You will catch a cold," he said.

"Then keep me warm."

William raised an eyebrow at her words.

"Don't try that again, Scott. I told you, I'm not that kind of a man," he reminded her with a feral grin.

"But you promised you will always keep me warm," she said and saw his features softened.

"Go away, Scott. I don't want to deal with you." He rubbed the bridge of his nose but she strode towards him and he lifted his head to look up at her when she was near. She gave a grin when she saw the quick movement of his Adam's apple.

He was nervous.

Her grin grew wider as she removed his hand from his lap and climbed on top of him, straddling him and she heard a gasp escape him.