A/N: I know I am being a complete douchebag, doing this while I have two other crappy stories to do. But bear with me. My head has loads of ideas, but I have no idea how to write them down. And then this thing suddenly came. Enjoy.
"Jesse…" Beca sighed.
Her porcelain skin was paler and more translucent than before. The zephyr lifted her cascading hair, loose strands fluttering by her elegant cheekbones. And, there were her eyes. They were mesmerizingly icy steel-grey eyes, but held warmth with the intensity of the sun. Thousands of stars would dance and twinkle within their fierceness, and he knew he would never get tired of gazing into them.
The engagement ring he had bought from the reputable jewelers down near the goldsmiths lay in his pocket. It was a 9 - carat diamond ring, embedded in a band of pure gold, engraved with 'Beca' on the back. He'd told his butler to deliver his invitation to Beca, to meet her behind the theatre after her rehearsal. Jesse was sure she would accept, they had known each other for six years, and could read each other back to front.
But knowing Beca as well as he did, he could see the clouded uncertainty in her eyes, as if she knew what were about to happen. He desperately wanted to comfort her, and convince her to marry him, but he knew it wouldn't help the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. So he kept quiet, and waited for her to say something.
"Jesse, I have… thought about it…" there was a hesitant pause, as Beca thickly swallowed, "And, I don't think we can stay together. I… I…"
Jesse could feel his knees crumpling. He had been so sure…
"I don't love you anymore…" she half-whispered, half-sobbed, her tiny hands clenching in tight fists, as if to pull herself together.
That was the ultimate blow. Jesse gazed into her eyes, squinting, trying to decipher this mysterious and intricate puzzle of a woman he had fallen for. Fallen too deeply for it seemed. His chest was pounding, his heart shattering with each pump. What had he ever done? Then, he remembered. All those years, when his father would frown disapprovingly whenever he brought Beca for tea, when his siblings would look down on her, and the forlorn expression masked by apathy on Beca's face. She couldn't be with him if that was the response she received in every nobleman's home. She must have found an actor who had the same social status, one who loved her unconditionally and one whose family didn't belittle her wherever she went. But he couldn't part ways without one last thing. The thing he desired most.
"Then give me one last kiss, Beca. It's all I'll ever ask from you," Jesse pleaded her, enveloping her stiff hands with the warmth of his large ones.
She didn't respond. Her eyes were focused on the lush grass beneath them.
"Please… Beca…"
Simultaneously, she crashed her lips onto his. He breathed in her sweet honey lavender odour, his hands tightening around her tiny waist. This was the last one. The last one he would ever get from the woman he loved the most, so he made the most of it. They stood there, in each other's embrace for a solid five minutes, before breaking apart. Her eyes were glistening with moisture. Tears…? But how could she cry when she was the one leaving him?
"Goodbye, Jesse. Until next time."
She walked away, her moonlit dress fluttering behind her. With every step she took, he felt his heart ache more and more. Then, he remembered her words.
Goodbye, Jesse. Until next time.
Until next time… he hoped she would return to him one day. Soon.
Turning the letter over in his hands, Jesse let out a cry of frustration. Aubrey, massaged his tense shoulders, and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
"Don't worry, darling, everything's going to be okay," her mellow musical voice wafted into his ear.
"How can it be okay?" Jesse grumbled, "My ignorant idiot of a brother has raped two women in less than two goddamn days. And I have to pay 100 pounds to clear his name!"
"He's only twenty-four, sweetie…"
"And I am twenty – six! He is only two years younger than me! So he should pay for himself!"
"Darling…"
"No, stop, Aubrey, I need to clear my head."
Jesse eased himself off his chair, and let himself out into the cool evening air. He gazed at the faded posters on the streets, advertising different theatrical performances. Attractive women graced the walls, but one in particular caught his eye. It was a petite brunette, with fierce blue eyes, in the arms of a fellow actor, a tall, muscular blonde. One name entered his mind. A name he had not said in so long.
"Beca…"
He'd forgotten about her theatrical career. He'd forgotten the softness of her skin. But he'd never forget the day she left him, the iciness of her steel eyes or the stars that seemed to twinkle within them.
The handsome young blonde from the picture appeared from the theatre, glancing at the emptiness of the streets. The artist had not exaggerated at all; the blonde man was indeed well built, loaded with the brooding good looks every woman desired. Accentuated, arms packed with brawn, the slow sexy smile and the perfect golden hair. No wonder Beca had chosen the actor over him.
He lingered around the shadows for a short while then melted into the darkness once more. Jesse approached the spot where the man was standing, and noticed a small dark object hidden by the shadows. It was a gun, a Webley Bull Dog revolver, small and compact. There was a dark burgundy outline of dried blood on its barrel, and a little streak of moist blood on the muzzle. Jesse turned it in his hands, wondering what the actor was doing with the gun.
Suddenly, a shriek came from down the street, followed by the rumble of hooves. A middle-aged man on his dapple-grey clattered down the street, hollering, 'Murder! Murder! Brace youselves! There is a murderer on the loose!" That must have been where the gun came from. Jesse quickly dropped the gun and slipped into the murkiness of the shadows. Who had been murdered?
He took a detour home, skirting the farms on the edges of London and slipped through the back gate. Running his hand through the stone fountain, he rinsed away the traces of blood on the gun, and entered the house. It was awfully quiet, save the constant clicks of the typewriter in his father's, Lord Richard Swanson, study. Aubrey should be home by now, back with her bloody father, Lord Frederick Posen II.
"Darling! Are you okay?" a voice drifted into his ear as a gentle hand massaged his arms.
To be honest, Jesse found the 'darlings' and 'honeys' was a bit… annoying. He didn't want to be fussed over. But what was Aubrey doing here?
"I heard there was a murder, and you were out on the streets alone… so…"
"I'm okay, Aubrey. Aren't you supposed to be home?"
Aubrey tensed. Her face was expressionless, her frame rigid. And with a tight smile, she caressed his arm once more and said, "Oh, I was just… You know… going for a walk in the garden…"
"I came in through the garden, I didn't see you there."
"And then I went back to my father's house, to say I was going to stay for a bit longer."
"It takes you an hour to get there, and I've only been gone for forty-five minutes."
"Oh," Aubrey let out a forced chuckle, "A nobleman invited me in when he saw me walking, and his bay is very fast. The streets are empty, you know… at night…"
Somehow, I knew she was hiding something. Her voice was never like this. It was always annoyingly chirpy and cheerful. But Jesse decided to play along, to see how Aubrey would react.
"I must thank him! Getting my betrothed home safely… Do you perchance have his name…?"
Aubrey beamed at him, "Oh, yes, his name was Lucius Ave – " she paused momentarily, "I mean Lachlan Averdale Wesley! Yes, yes, that was his name!"
Jesse knew she was lying. 'Lachlan' was nowhere near 'Lucius'. And Aubrey was extremely cunning, and could lie very convincingly. The only thing that kept him from falling for her craftiness was the fact that he knew her so well. They had been introduced at a masquerade three years ago, six months after Beca had broken his heart, and their fathers decided that they were perfect for each other. They really weren't, but Aubrey had fallen head over heels for him and to appease his father's temper, he agreed to it. To be honest, he'd grown quite fond of Aubrey, and the marriage wouldn't bother him at all. It had only taken him two years to read her inside out, but even now, he was still liable to her tricks.
"Of course, Aubrey."
Jesse decided not to press the issue any further. She would only try to throw him off with more lies. And he was tired, very tired.
"Oh… darling, let's get you to bed now, shall we… You must have had a very rough day with your brother's bill and all…"
There was a sharp rap on the door. Jesse excused himself to answer it, and opened the door. There was a young boy there, to deliver the evening papers probably…
"G'night, sir. I come wit' ye' papers. Eve'nin' papers."
Jesse thanked him with the jingle of pennies and closed the door. He looked at the headline.
Unholy Murder! God Bless Our Souls!
This must have been the murder he had heard about. He settled into his armchair and began reading, not noticing the back gate closing.
A/N: Bah. I don't even know what to say. It isn't Beta'd (non of my things are Beta'd). So, hopefully you guys see something worth keeping in it.