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"Thou art to me a delicious torment."

– R. W. Emerson


Elizabeth chocked down an aggravated sigh. The evening was not supposed to be this way. True enough, there had been no choice about attending Admiral Brooke's ball; it was a major social event of the season though he was a maddening little man and everyone knew it, even if propriety didn't permit anyone to admit as much aloud. And, true enough, it had always been destined to be a dreadfully dull affair. However, Will was supposed to be at her side this very minute. His mere presence would make any dreary occasion a thousand times more tolerable. At the very least she would have something satisfying to occupy her eyes as the hours ticked by.

But Will was not there. Last minute business at the smithy had called him away, forcing her to ride to the neighboring manor with her father alone, whose bland conversation on the 'promise of the evening' only made Elizabeth more and more depressed. Though necessity compelled them to arrive separately, Will had vowed he would join her before the evening was through. She had no doubt he would eventually keep his promise; he always kept his promises. Nevertheless, one hour at the smithy tended to stretch into two or three, and she'd feared when he gave her that estimate that in actuality he would be joining her later rather than sooner, a fact that was confirmed as the night waxed on.

And so Elizabeth stood there two and a half hours later still impatiently waiting for her fiancé, quite uninterested in everything and everyone around her – especially Lord Deverley. The insufferable man had trailed her all evening like a fly after honey, equally as irritating as the insect and twice as loathsome. The man was impossible really. He knew very well she was betrothed to Will and yet his advances had grown increasingly blatant throughout the evening. …..Come to think of it, it was actually as baffling as it was annoying. Elizabeth's mind seized upon that as a distraction, ignoring the ill-concealed overtures and propositions pouring from his mouth.

The reality was Lord Deverley was a handsome man and wealthy besides. Though he had only recently come upon the scene, moving to the island two months prior, his looks, his affluence, and his family background all made him more than a desirable match and many a young woman had set her cap for him. In fact, he could probably have his pick of just about any of them in the room tonight. Yet he stood here shamelessly flirting with her.

In the beginning she'd reminded him that she was already spoken for, and in fact awaiting her fiancé at any moment. Still, he persisted. Another woman may have been flattered by his attentions and continued insistence to seek her out despite her lack of encouragement and the many adoring others waiting their turn. After all, he was good-looking and his flowery words of adulation and longing were some of the smoothest she had ever heard. But the man did nothing for Elizabeth – other than make a tedious evening all the more trying.

She was tired. Her feet hurt. Her corset pinched. She was weary of making polite insipid conversation, and she was altogether fed up with dodging Lord Deverley's persistent blatant advances.

Then, all at once, Elizabeth sensed something different in the air – at the exact same moment Lord Deverley's face fell. She spun about to find Will walking towards them. As her eyes set upon his approaching figure, she registered instant relief; at last she would be rid of this horrid Deverley. But excitement and mind-blowing attraction followed quickly on its heals till all she could focus on were Will's chest and broad shoulders, hard muscles clear even through his proper shirt and coat; his dark waves tidily pulled back, though a curl or two still waywardly slipped past their confines; his arousing smile meant especially for her; and the charming twinkle in his chocolate-brown eyes as he regarded her. Suddenly no one and nothing else in the room seemed to exist but the two of them.

When Will at last reached Elizabeth's side, Deverley continued to gape at him and then at her, apparently displeased and irritated that his dominance of her attention should be challenged.

Seeing the two men next to one another, Elizabeth almost laughed aloud. The contrast in her reaction to each man was like night and day. Deverely bored her to tears; Will excited her, incited feeling she could not speak of in a public ballroom. But it wasn't just Deverely. The same could be said of any other man in the room. Any man anywhere. Will was the only one who could stir her body, the only one who could touch her heart – and it had been singing since the instant he entered the room.

"Elizabeth, my love," Will said, taking her hand and placing a kiss to it, completely ignoring the other man. "I'm sorry for arriving so late."

"It's no matter," she replied, with a smile that gave him no doubt of her feelings at the moment. "You're here now." She too completely ignored Deverely.

It finally appeared to sink into the interloper's stubborn mind that he was not wanted, or at least that he would make no headway with Elizabeth's fiancé present, and so he excused himself – for the moment, anyway – although neither of them seemed to notice.

"I'm bored of this party, Will," she pouted.

"Of course you are, my darling," he amusedly responded, extracting his hand from hers to run it up the length of her arm– pausing for a scarcely discernable instant over the bare skin of her shoulder – before lovingly tapping her nose. "You're bored over every party."

"Yes but, without you, this one has been especially dreadful."

Looking around, Will couldn't argue with her statement. This was certainly never his scene, and far from his idea of a good time. Since he had become Elizabeth's fiancé, he'd experienced firsthand how cumbersome such events could be – and this one did seem to rank right up there with the most lackluster and monotonous.

"Come away with me," Elizabeth requested in a tone that left him in no condition to refuse her anything.

Exchanging a wordless glance, the two linked hands again and glided across the ballroom in a pretended waltz before discreetly stealing out through the open patio into the gardens beyond.

Hand in hand, they walked further through the palms, the soft music from the house gently lulling in the near distance as they surrounded themselves in the flowers and lush greenery.

Elizabeth released a happy sigh. "Now this is lovely."

"Mm-hmm," Will murmured in agreement, drawing her closer to his side.

"You see, we're meant for this," Elizabeth said, indicating the tropical paradise around them. "Not that," she added in distaste, gesturing back toward the stifling manor filled with stifling people. "I'm indescribably happier off alone with you than in that horribly formal gathering with those insincere, stuffy people."

"I'm glad to hear it," Will smiled, turning to face her fully, his arms looping about her waist, "although we must find our place amongst them for a little while longer."

Elizabeth's lips curved upward in an answering smile. "But not now. Not tonight," she whispered, snuggling further into his embrace as she touched her mouth to his.

Will melted into the soft, light kiss, relishing the feel of her full silken lips against his. Drawing back, he sighed, "I've wanted to do that since I first saw you tonight." His contented tone dimming, he attached, "Standing next to that…that charlatan."

Elizabeth laughed in amused delight. "Are you jealous?"

"No. I'm not," Will insisted. "But I know he has his eye on you. He pretends to be a gentleman, but he'd like nothing better than to drag you off somewhere."

Elizabeth laughed again, but this time her laughter was as sultry as the warm night air. "Then beat him to it and you drag me off," she alluringly suggested, nestling into him.

"Elizabeth," he warned, but his eyes grew darker as she pressed her body against his. "We – we mustn't."

"Will," she coaxed, "we aren't in public, not out here. Kiss me," she said, her fingers running enticingly down his chest. "Kiss me long, and slow, and deep."

How was he to deny such a request?

Will crushed his lips to Elizabeth's in a kiss that was everything she had asked for and more. His tongue was devouring her mouth, making her body throb and her insides quiver, when he suddenly pulled back, gently setting her away from him.

"We can't continue this," he said in a breathy whisper, darting nervous eyes toward the house. "Not here, where we might still be seen."

Elizabeth looked at him, desire mingling with frustration. After the tedious evening she'd endured, she wasn't about to give up what she wanted just yet. "Then I'll drag you off," she declared, taking his hand and pulling him back into the house, marching him right through the ballroom and out the other side into the hallway.

"Elizabeth, surely someone will have seen that," Will protested, certain they'd made quite a show hurrying off together, all but running through the ballroom as the other guests danced or casually milled about taking refreshment.

"Oh nonsense," she answered, leading him further into the bowels of the home. "They're far too engrossed in themselves and their own silly appearances to notice ours."

"I'm not so sure of that," he replied, but allowed himself to be lead off all the same.

Though she didn't admit as much to Will, Elizabeth had no real idea where they were going. She only knew that she wanted him. She always wanted him; all he need do was enter the room. But it was his fault too. He'd made it all the worse by kissing her in such a manner. If he thought she was about to let that go simply because they were at a priggish ball, he was extremely mistaken. Will had ignited the fire and she was determined to see that he further stoke it. If he required guaranteed privacy for such actions, then she would find it – somewhere, somehow.

Eventually they ended up in a long winding corridor toward the back of the home, which led past an open doorway she vaguely recalled from past, forced visits: Miss Abigail Brooke's private sitting room. A smile lit Elizabeth's face as she realized with great pleasure this would do perfectly.

The room was illuminated only by the light of the full moon outside shining in through the one window whose curtains had been left mistakenly drawn back, but Elizabeth pulled Will in all the same, turning and closing the door behind them. Gently rattling the handle, she discovered it had no lock but, in a pinch, it was the best she could come up with.

Leaning back against the cool wood, she regarded her fiancé with the look of a cat on the prowl. "There. No we are completely and utterly alone." She opened her arms to him, her eyes inviting. "Ravish me."

Will slowly smiled, completely transfixed by her words, by the beam of moonlight dancing across her beautiful face. "I love you, Elizabeth," he said, stepping closer to her. "The moment I looked into those devilish eyes of yours, you owned me."

"Good. Then come show me."

Will chuckled softly. It seemed his intended had a one-track mind tonight – and who was he to argue? He closed the rest of the distance between them, setting his hands at her waist. "How thorough of a demonstration would you like?"

Weaving her arms about his neck, Elizabeth turned them, backing Will against the wall. Stopping with her lips just brushing his, she whispered, "An intense, meticulous, exhaustive illustration."

Will took her mouth, his tongue teasing hers, his teeth drawing out her lower lip, sucking it in a manner that always made her go limp with wanting in his arms. But, at the clatter of a broken dish somewhere down a distant hallway, he pulled away.

Yearning tempered with wariness burned in his eyes as he gazed down at her. Winded, he muttered, "I don't…..I don't think we'd better – "

"Will," Elizabeth enticed, all but purring his name. "No one will find us." She ran her hand over him, her fingers making wicked strokes down his chest, lingering ever lower on his abdomen.

This time the look he gave her was one of raw need. "I want you, Elizabeth," he breathed. "You know I do."

She rubbed neatly against him, eliciting a low grunt. "Then have me. Here." When she felt him immediately tense, she impishly qualified, "Just a little."

Despite his caressing thumbs, lightly playing at her ribs, she was aware a half-hearted protest was coming. "You know very well, with us, a little quickly turns to a lot. And if someone were to – "

Elizabeth let out a disappointed huff of air, releasing him and stepping back. "Fine," she pouted in a hopelessly tempting manner that made him lust for her till he felt near the point of madness. "But it isn't fair for you to do such things to me and then abruptly stop." She suddenly frowned. "As much as I loathe to admit it, aren't you the one meant to say that to me?"

Will faintly laughed, crossing the space she had created between them. "I'm sorry, love. You know I want more as well. But, in my defense, all I did was kiss you."

"Yes," she agreed, placing her hands on his shoulders," but it's what your kiss does to me. It….It sets me afire. It makes me want all sorts of things only you can give." She nestled in closer to him and softly whimpered at the contact, her face flushed and eyes aglow. "Give them to me, Will."

"Perhaps for just a spell," he mumbled, bending to kiss her – a long steady kiss – before pulling back. "We can….we can continue this to-tomorrow. At the beach, or you could come by the smithy," he haltingly offered.

"No. Now. I want you now," Elizabeth insisted.

Still, she could see she was fighting a losing battle. In an unlocked room within a crowded house, his concern for her, that they would somehow be discovered, would persist in preventing him from losing control with her the way she wished he would.

Glancing about them in aroused frustration, her eyes – now well accustomed to the darkness – alit on the weapons hanging above the fireplace. "Yes," she quietly exclaimed. "Marvelous."

Will watched in fascination as Elizabeth stepped out of his arms and crossed the room, stopping before the empty fire grate.

"I tried this once before," she explained, reaching up toward the wall display. "Hopefully it will work this time to greater effect." Glancing back to Will, with one look she felt the fire start low in her belly. "I need it to work this time."

Stretching as far as she could, Elizabeth grabbed the hilt of one of the crossed swords and tugged, releasing a blissful squeal of victory when it pulled free of its mounted scabbard – unlike the similar display at her own home when she had attempted to thwart her kidnapping.

By the time she headed back across the room to the door, sword in hand, Will, grinning from ear to ear, understood his fiancée's purpose. He looked on with astounded pride – both at her cleverness and her absolute determination to have him – as she slipped the sword through the curved door handles, effectively blocking anyone from entering the room.

Turning back to Will, Elizabeth threw herself at him, her mouth landing squarely on his in a ferocious kiss. Now satisfied that they would not be caught, he took control of the kiss, his mouth possessing hers, luring her to complete surrender.

Momentarily ending the kiss, he looked down into her lust-filled eyes. "Very well, Miss Swann," Will whispered seductively into her ear, pulling her tightly against him. "Now that we are desolately alone and quite at liberty, tell me more of what you need that only I can give you." His tongue grazed her earlobe as his teeth gently tugged it, eliciting an unrestrained moan. "Has the cat got your tongue?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "No. But you soon will."

He smiled. "That I will. But seeing as you're still silent on defining the 'all sorts of things' you requested, I shall have to leave your gratification up to my own imagination."

He brought his lips back to hers for another sweet taste of her and, as he had predicted, their passion soon flamed out of control. Both were completely lost in their copious, fervent kisses, only wanting more of each other – more kisses, more touches, more of this feeling of ecstasy.

Knowing that standing this way was no longer enough, never breaking their kiss, Will slowly led Elizabeth backwards toward the settee, laying her down upon it and covering her body with his. He let out a low groan as he pressed her further into the cushion, his tongue delving deeper into her mouth. At length, he pulled back, panting, "I'm not used to all these skirts. I want to feel you and not a dozen yards of fabric."

"I know," she gasped.

While many days and nights at their beach, his smithy, her gardens, and a handful of other places had led them into similar situations, they were not accustomed to doing this with shifts and skirts – a multiplicity of layers – in between and wanted each other closer. To that effect, needing desperately to satisfy her aching need, keeping her mouth still engaged with Will's, Elizabeth scooted out from beneath him so they were lying side by side, she against the back of the couch and Will nearest the edge.

This new position seemed to provide even less contact, but his tongue was too pleasantly occupied with hers to protest. She slid her leg up to his waist, inciting heated enthusiasm and further zeal from her fiancé, as she started to undress, hoping to release the layers one by one until she was left in only her shift.

Will broke from her mouth to whisper in a somewhat horrified tone, "No! Not here." He swiftly righted the garment at her shoulder but, nevertheless, wanted to feel her still closer. Grabbing hold of her hips, he pressed them firmly against his, but his eagerness was such that he pulled too forcefully and knocked them both off balance. Entwined, they went teetering off the settee, Will landing hard on the floor with Elizabeth atop him.

Without warning, in the hallway directly beyond the sitting room's interior wall, they heard footsteps swiftly coming their way.

"Elizabeth," Will managed, though he was half-drunk with desire and very little blood remained in his brain. "Elizabeth, quickly, get up."

A slow smile played its way across her lips. "No, thank you. I'm quite comfortable right where I am," she sighed, further stretching out upon him.

"And what if someone should manage to walk in and discover us this way?" he asked, alarmed at the footsteps outside growing ever nearer.

"We would have an awful lot of explaining to do," Elizabeth speculated. She slipped out of her silk slippers, in the process wriggling her pelvis against his, driving him to distraction. "…..In that case, our actions might as well justify the scolding," she whispered, running a now bare foot up and down his leg.

Will was torn between reprimanding her and crushing her lips back to his. Either way, they must be very quiet for whoever was coming – hopefully to walk right past – was quickly approaching their door.

Elizabeth, however, would not relent, teasing him all the more because she knew he could not make a sound. Rolling to the side just enough to set her palm against his belly, she tugged his shirt upward, drawing it out from his pants and sliding her hand beneath. She ran warm, soft fingers along his lower abdomen, feeling each muscle clench, watching his eyes darken and his face contort with desire. Then she bent her lips to his neck and, just as the footsteps were at their closest and silence was of the utmost importance, Elizabeth dipped her forefinger inside the waistline of Will's pants, gliding it across from hipbone to hipbone, her tongue tracing his ear.

Will trembled beneath her with the effort of not responding but, as soon as the danger had passed, he let out an almost feral growl and swiftly rolled Elizabeth beneath him.

"I thought we had to get up," she smirked.

"Not yet." He took her mouth with such vigor it left her dizzy and wanting, her hands roving enthusiastically over his back before they finally settled, one low across his hip, the fingers of the other lacing into his ponytail, mussing his hair. Drawing back, Will added, "Not before you get a little of her own back." He dipped his head, his lips landing a hot, open-mouthed kiss against the hollow of her throat. She gasped and he smiled. "I'll teach you to tease me, Miss Swann."

He brought his mouth back to her hers, allowing her tongue to twine with his for but a moment before pulling away. Kissing a path across her jaw line, Will lingered at Elizabeth's ear, at the tender sensitive skin just beneath. Working downward, he ran his teeth across her neck, pausing to softly bite at the hollow of her neck just where it met her shoulder, one of her most receptive spots, guaranteed every time to make her purr and moan for him.

As he kissed down the column of her throat, his mouth slipping still lower down her chest, Will plunged his hand up her dress, his fingers hot and searching beneath her many skirts, sliding past the edge of her knee-high stockings to caress the soft silken skin of her bare leg.

Elizabeth all but writhed beneath him. In a satisfied whisper, smiling in pleasure at the magic his hands and mouth were working, she said, "You're rather bold this evening."

Will's arms wove around her in answer, pulling her body to his as his hands traveled to the ties of her dress. Elizabeth believed for a minute he might actually give in and make love to her then and there. The thought was unspeakably thrilling.

Having a change of heart, however, he dropped the laces. "Not that bold."

He lowered her body gently back to the ground but, nevertheless, brought his mouth to hers again, afterwards kissing his way back down her neck to the edge of bodice.

His warm moist lips against her chest was nearly Elizabeth's undoing. "Will, I – "

He looked up at her for a brief instant and gave her a devastating smile before bending back into her chest and purposefully running his tongue between her breasts.

"Ohhh," was as close to intelligible speech as she could manage, her body arching up toward his mouth.

Then she was reduced to a little intake of breath followed by a small cooing sound as he began to suck at the flesh, drawing her in with his teeth, nibbling then allaying the tiny bites with his tongue.

And he loved her reaction to him, the sounds, the sighs, the passion; it was all for him – because of him – what he alone could do to her. It made him want to do it all the more, to make her lose control, to completely satisfy her.

"Mmm….Will…" she moaned, full of yearning, as he continued to taste the ample portion of her breasts left exposed by her plunging neckline.

At that moment, both were exceedingly glad he had arrived so late and made her so very impatient.


They emerged some time later, after Will insisted he would not be deflowering her on the floor of Admiral Brooke's darkened parlor – no matter how much he wanted to. When Elizabeth's breathless suggestion was, "Perhaps on the settee then?", he knew it was time to go.

Elizabeth stepped out into the hallway first – running directly into Lord Deverley, who still had not given up.

"I've been looking for you," he informed her.

His eyes trailed the length of her, taking in her unusual appearance. Her dress was disheveled and slightly twisted. Her once upswept hair was spilling freely about her shoulders in a rather jostled manner, and she looked somewhat dazed. Will stepped out of the dark room immediately after Elizabeth, looking equally rumpled, making their illicit rendezvous apparent.

Lord Deverley's face turned an awkward shade of puce, either from horror or anger Elizabeth wasn't certain.

"We were in – in the sitting room," she weakly offered.

At that very inconvenient moment, Governor Swann wandered around the corner and into the hallway. Seeing them, he beckoned, "Elizabeth, there you are. We were wondering where you'd gotten off to."

"Will and I were just talking with Lord Deverley, Father," she brightly answered.

The Lord was too shocked and gentlemanly to deny her alibi.

"Of course. Of course," Weatherby responded as Will and Elizabeth exchanged a secret look. "Tell me, Lord Deverley….." the Governor continued, launching into a lengthy questioning that gave his daughter and her fiancé ample time to escape back out into the main ballroom.

"Quit looking so guilty and dance with me," Elizabeth laughed, offering her arm to him which he took and led her out onto the floor.

"We are wicked, wicked people," Will whispered to her as they began to dance.

"No, we're not. We both remained clothed and, against my own wishes, as pure as the driven snow," she teased.

Will opened his mouth to offer a playful retort, but was unable to keep his eyes from skittering down to the cleavage he had only recently thoroughly mapped with his mouth, teeth, and tongue.

Elizabeth watched the path of his eyes and smiled – until she saw the look of panic on his face.

Grabbing hold of Elizabeth's hand, Will escorted her from the ballroom. "You know, this evening started out dreadfully dull, but it's turned quite exciting since you arrived," she said as he hurriedly hustled her out into the gardens.

Once buried within the reasonable privacy of the shrubbery, he turned to her, looking thoroughly culpable.

"What is it? Will, I want to kn – Oh…" She trailed off as he curled his fingers inside the edge of her bodice, brushing tantalizingly against her breast. Her breath began to instantly quicken in response, and she wondered if he planed to continue their tryst outside, but he merely pulled her dress further up and then chastely withdrew his fingers.

Elizabeth looked down curiously, peeling the dress back and gaping down at her left breast to view the deep purple mark Will had unknowingly left.

"We were fortunate no one else had time to see that," Will sighed. "In the future, we'll have to be more careful."

Elizabeth fingered the mark that still burned from his attentions. "Yes," she answered, returning the neckline of the dress to its new position. Inching closer to him, she clarified, "Next time you'll have to do it lower."

Will shook his head, laughing, as he slipped his arms low around her waist. "One things for certain, with you I'll never be bored."


AN: This was just a little aside I started working on quite a bit ago and decided to finally finish and publish. If you're wondering where it would fit in context with my other stories, I consider it an honorary chapter of "Courtship", fitting in between Chapter Twelve and Thirteen.

Also, I am still actively continuing with "Holiday", though I'll warn you my work schedule is extremely busy this week and will probably further delay the next update, but I would rather wait then put out a rushed chapter. So bear with me. There's lots more in store with that story! And I also plan to (somewhere in there) publish at least two more period one-shots.

Happy New Year Everyone!