every gesture. And here she was now, stuttering and stammering, near begging him to adore her again, the way a girl in love would. That’s what she was, after all: a girl in love.
34 ♥elavanilla♥
But all that could not stop a few stray thoughts from returning to the words that her mother had uttered just before Elizabeth had set out on the dance floor with Percival Coddington. The one thing we do not have is time. Her words hovered like an augury over Elizabeth’s head, even now, as she stood on the stable floor.
“You were gone so long,” Will said quietly, and shook his head in a show of despondency.
Elizabeth looked up at him and tried to banish those words still looming like storm clouds. “And then tonight, standing out on the street, waiting for the ball to be over, not knowing what you were doing in there, who’s touching you, who’s—” He looked straight at her then, which made any further words unnecessary. One of the horses shifted, hooves against the hay, and neighed softly.
“Will, I couldn’t not go to the ball.” She widened her eyes helplessly, wondering why he had to fight with her over things she couldn’t change, especially on her first night home. After all, wasn’t she the one risking everything she had ever known, creeping around the house at night?
Couldn’t he just love her in the time they had? “I’m here now, Will. Look at me, I’m here ,” she said softly, stepping forward. “I love you.” She almost laughed because she meant it so much.
“I kept picturing you inside, dancing with those other men.” Will fixed his grip on the wooden edge of the loft, and then went on. “Those Henry Schoonmaker types with their hundred-dollar suits and their country houses even bigger than what they have in town…”
Elizabeth reached the ladder and took two steps up. The wood was rough on her soft, unblemished hands, but she hardly thought of that now. She kept her eyes on Will’s and a crescent smile on her lips. “Henry Schoonmaker? That cad? You must be joking.” She couldn’t help laughing her high, fine laugh outright now.
She didn’t know where it came from, this urge to comfort and hold Will, but it was as deep in her as fate. She didn’t even know when their childhood adoration had turned into adult love, but whatever it was that pulled her to Will had always been there. She’d never met anyone so true, so stubbornly good. Sometimes he verged on righteous, but Elizabeth knew how to calm him down.
She looked up at Will, all worn out with feeling, and knew he was ready to not be angry anymore.
Will lowered his eyes and pushed his hair behind his ears once again. Then he raised his face slightly and peeked at Elizabeth. “Are you laughing at me, Lizzie?”
“I would never,” she said seriously, rising another step on the wooden ladder.
Then he swung his legs upward and stood, his worn leather boots making the loft shake. When he reached the ladder, he bent and swooped Elizabeth up, so that she was folded into his arms.
He smelled like horses and sweat and plain soap—it was a smell she knew and adored. “I’m so happy you’re back,” he whispered into her neck.
35 ♥elavanilla♥
Elizabeth closed her eyes and said nothing. It was so rare and so good, this being touched. She hadn’t known how much she’d missed it until now.
“So what kind of evening was it?” he asked, speaking low, directly into her ear as he set her down on the loft’s plank wood floor. “Elegant or wild?”
She pressed her face into his chest and tried to recall the party, but all she could remember were her mother’s ominous words and the strange looks she kept shooting at her daughter. Elizabeth considered her reply, and finally said, “Boring.” Then she looked up at his big, handsome face and wished she could forget the evening and who she was and what her obligations were. She had come down here because what she wanted—against all her upbringing—was to be
34 ♥elavanilla♥
But all that could not stop a few stray thoughts from returning to the words that her mother had uttered just before Elizabeth had set out on the dance floor with Percival Coddington. The one thing we do not have is time. Her words hovered like an augury over Elizabeth’s head, even now, as she stood on the stable floor.
“You were gone so long,” Will said quietly, and shook his head in a show of despondency.
Elizabeth looked up at him and tried to banish those words still looming like storm clouds. “And then tonight, standing out on the street, waiting for the ball to be over, not knowing what you were doing in there, who’s touching you, who’s—” He looked straight at her then, which made any further words unnecessary. One of the horses shifted, hooves against the hay, and neighed softly.
“Will, I couldn’t not go to the ball.” She widened her eyes helplessly, wondering why he had to fight with her over things she couldn’t change, especially on her first night home. After all, wasn’t she the one risking everything she had ever known, creeping around the house at night?
Couldn’t he just love her in the time they had? “I’m here now, Will. Look at me, I’m here ,” she said softly, stepping forward. “I love you.” She almost laughed because she meant it so much.
“I kept picturing you inside, dancing with those other men.” Will fixed his grip on the wooden edge of the loft, and then went on. “Those Henry Schoonmaker types with their hundred-dollar suits and their country houses even bigger than what they have in town…”
Elizabeth reached the ladder and took two steps up. The wood was rough on her soft, unblemished hands, but she hardly thought of that now. She kept her eyes on Will’s and a crescent smile on her lips. “Henry Schoonmaker? That cad? You must be joking.” She couldn’t help laughing her high, fine laugh outright now.
She didn’t know where it came from, this urge to comfort and hold Will, but it was as deep in her as fate. She didn’t even know when their childhood adoration had turned into adult love, but whatever it was that pulled her to Will had always been there. She’d never met anyone so true, so stubbornly good. Sometimes he verged on righteous, but Elizabeth knew how to calm him down.
She looked up at Will, all worn out with feeling, and knew he was ready to not be angry anymore.
Will lowered his eyes and pushed his hair behind his ears once again. Then he raised his face slightly and peeked at Elizabeth. “Are you laughing at me, Lizzie?”
“I would never,” she said seriously, rising another step on the wooden ladder.
Then he swung his legs upward and stood, his worn leather boots making the loft shake. When he reached the ladder, he bent and swooped Elizabeth up, so that she was folded into his arms.
He smelled like horses and sweat and plain soap—it was a smell she knew and adored. “I’m so happy you’re back,” he whispered into her neck.
35 ♥elavanilla♥
Elizabeth closed her eyes and said nothing. It was so rare and so good, this being touched. She hadn’t known how much she’d missed it until now.
“So what kind of evening was it?” he asked, speaking low, directly into her ear as he set her down on the loft’s plank wood floor. “Elegant or wild?”
She pressed her face into his chest and tried to recall the party, but all she could remember were her mother’s ominous words and the strange looks she kept shooting at her daughter. Elizabeth considered her reply, and finally said, “Boring.” Then she looked up at his big, handsome face and wished she could forget the evening and who she was and what her obligations were. She had come down here because what she wanted—against all her upbringing—was to be
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