A/N: thanks for the reviews, people! I replied to the signed ones, as usual.
Skeptic7: in book one it was stated that Emily bore a resemblance to Jane (when Laurence first met Jane, he immediately drew the conclusion they were mother and daughter because their features looked similar). I like Lady Allendale, every scene with her is fun to write, glad you like her too!
Polyarny: you were signed, but you have disabled PM, so I'm replying to you this way. I hope you will enjoy this one just as much as LMLD. One thing I can promise: it will be at least as evil as that one was. ;)
Chapter 2
Too Good to be True
Waterloo, 18th June, 1815
"Napoleon has surrendered!"
The news travelled across the lines of the Anglo-allied forces like wildfire. Arms swinging swords and rifles froze in mid-air, cavalrymen jerked the bridles to stop their horses, and dragons almost forgot to use their wings in surprise. A Winchester actually did and fell like a piece of stone on the grass below. Thankfully it had only been circling about ten metres above the ground and thus did not suffer serious injuries nor did its captain.
Temeraire happened to be hovering in mid-air, he being the only dragon around capable of such a feat, and as an almighty "HURRAY!" sounded both on the ground and in the air, his crew joined in the cheering, all of them standing up in the harness, some of them even jumping for joy. Temeraire let out a deafening roar of happiness and touched down on the grass with a soft thump.
"We won! We won!" the delighted voice of Second Lieutenant Roland shouted somewhere nearby, and Laurence turned around to see the girl run from ensign to midwingman and hug everyone within her reach, and before he could react, she had arrived to him and thrown her arms around him, plastering her lips to his.
Laurence's mind froze. Suddenly the ecstatic feeling of having contributed to Napoleon's final defeat got replaced by something equally ecstatic and still very different. For a second it occurred to him that he should not be letting her kiss him in front of all these people, then he convinced himself that it was just the joy of the victory that made her approach him in such an unusual fashion, besides, they were surely not the only people around kissing or hugging. Victories of such magnitude tended to make people lose their minds, and Laurence did not particularly mind losing his to Emily's fervent kiss. He had not been kissed by a woman for eight years, he had almost forgotten what it was like, and even if a tiny part of his conscience told him he was not being exactly gentlemanly, another part of his soul prodded him to use every second, for he could not be sure when he would next have a chance of this kind of delight.
As Emily's lips parted slightly, urging him to deepen the kiss, Laurence wondered if he had truly heard some snickers around or he had only imagined them – the snickers all sounded coming from far away, as though the rapturous crowd was not close by, but somewhere in the distance or perhaps, in a dream. For the time being only two things existed for Laurence: the victory and Emily. And as he slipped his fingers into her wind-blown hair and she tightened her embrace around him, he came to realise that he had longed for this for quite a while, he had just not admitted it to himself, deeming Emily to be too young for him and himself in his convict status unworthy of her.
If someone had asked him when he had started having feelings for Emily – feelings that had nothing to do with the care and worry of a captain or a substitute-father – he could not have named an exact date, although he was sure it had started already in Australia. They had returned to Europe almost a year earlier on Wellington's orders – apparently the Corps could not do without Temeraire's abilities –, and all this time Laurence had kept his feelings to himself, bottling them up, not even letting himself ponder them. Temeraire had more than once tried to start a conversation about this, as he, being more observant than most, had noticed the longing glances his captain inadvertently sent his second lieutenant's way. Whenever Temeraire had addressed the topic, Laurence had found some excuse to talk about something else, and after a while the dragon had given up on badgering him.
Now as he held the girl in his arms and let her kiss him senseless, it came to his mind that after this, Temeraire would surely not leave him alone until they discussed the matter. Imagining some of the most indiscreet questions that he could expect from his dragon, Laurence could not help it, his lips tucked into a grin against Emily's.
Emily might have sensed the changed quality of the kiss, and drew back, panting.
The magic of the moment was broken, and Laurence released her, letting his arms reluctantly drop back to his sides. For several long seconds they just stared at each other, both of them gasping for breath, and slowly but surely the murmur of the crowd crept back into Laurence's ears: snickers and whistles and disapproving tutting all at once.
"Laurence!" someone shouted, making him completely snap out of his stupor and break eye contact with his second lieutenant. Looking down from Temeraire's back, he realised that the man who had addressed him was none other than the Duke of Wellington sitting proudly on his snow white steed.
"Your Grace," Laurence bowed slightly, "how may I help you?"
"You may not," the duke said with an almost amused expression, "you already have. You and your damn beast have fought like a pair of tigers, I have been watching you."
"Beg your pardon, but I am no beast, I am a dragon," Temeraire said in a hurt voice, "and we were not fighting like tigers, for tigers cannot fly at all. Why, have you seen tigers with wings? I have not."
"Hush, Temeraire," Laurence patted the Celestial's neck a little nervously. His dragon always knew how to talk back to Wellesley…
The duke, however, still appeared to be amused. "Your beast… pardon, dragon, is just as insolent as he always was… but even despite his insolence, I am going to put in a word for you – both of you – with the Prince Regent." He held up a hand, "No need to express your gratitude."
"Oh, we didn't even want to," Temeraire began, only to be gently elbowed by Laurence in the neck. However, before the captain could apologise for his dragon's impertinence, Wellesley prodded his horse and galloped away.
"What, have I said something wrong?" Temeraire asked with wide eyes. "He said we shouldn't express gratitude…"
"Never mind, my dear," Laurence suppressed an urge to roll his eyes, and turned back to Emily, only she was no longer standing next to him but had sat back in her place several metres further down the dragon's back, and was currently looking away from him, as if she were absolutely taken with the sight of the retreating cavalry. Only the slight colour on her cheeks suggested that she was deliberately avoiding his glance.
With a sigh, Laurence told Temeraire to go aloft and follow Lily the formation leader northwards, back to England.
oOo
Covert of Dover, the following day
They had spent the previous night on dragonback, and after a short debriefing by Admiral Roland all captains and crews were dismissed to have a good night's sleep at last. "You all damn well deserve it," as Jane had put it, and Laurence could not agree more.
Still, he was not sure he would be able to fall asleep, no matter how tired he physically was; therefore he decided to join Temeraire on the dragon grounds. Perhaps a bit of friendly conversation would lull him into sleep, and the night was warm enough to stay outside with only his coat and Temeraire's warm breath serving as a blanket.
Shortly before he could reach his dragon, Laurence crossed a little clearing only to find a young woman sitting there on a rock. Hearing his steps, she looked up, and Laurence was suddenly reminded of finding her here, on this very rock ten years earlier, before the battle of Dover. She had been crying then, afraid of what would happen to her mother, and he had consoled her by taking her to his room and offering her hot cocoa and a few fatherly words. At this memory he felt a flush rise to his cheeks. She was a grown woman now and she was not crying only seemed a little sad, and he felt like taking her to his room, only with entirely different intentions than all those years ago.
Berating himself for his inappropriate thoughts, he sent her an encouraging smile and continued on his way to Temeraire's clearing, knowing that staying and offering her any kind of consolation would possibly be dangerous for her virtue and his clear conscience. He thought that it was odd seeing her sad after such a brilliant victory – everyone else in the covert was jumping for joy, except those few who had lost friends or relatives in the battle. But as far as Laurence knew, Emily had no close acquaintances among the victims therefore she had no particular reason for mourning.
"Sir?" she called after him before he could cross the hedges between her little clearing and that of Temeraire.
"Yes, Emily?" he doubled back, his heart rate increasing at once.
"Sir," she rose from the rock and walked up to him, "you have not talked to me since… since…"
"…the kiss?" he finished the sentence.
Emily nodded. "Was it so horribly bad?"
"What?" Laurence's eyes widened. "No, of course not, it was actually… really nice," he admitted in a small voice.
"Really?" her eyes lit up, practically blazed, and Laurence was sure it was not only due to the dark orange light of the setting sun engulfing her pretty face. There was desire in her eyes, he was quite sure of that, and realising the blaze in her eyes for what it was only made his heart beat even quicker and raised a lump in his throat.
"Uh… really," he ran a hand nervously across his locks, "although…"
"Although…?" she knitted her eyebrows, some of the glow in her eyes dimming.
"Although I do not fully understand why you kissed me in the first place."
"Do I really have to explain that?" her visage turned grim and disappointed.
"Well… yes."
Emily threw up her hands in frustration. "Just to think how embarrassed I have been for years, thinking that you had long figured out my feelings for you… and now you're telling me you have had no idea?"
Laurence's heart skipped a beat. Could it be possible that she was having the same feelings for him as he was for her? Would it not be too good to be true?
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he nodded. "I never noticed anything but respect and perhaps a bit of friendship coming from you…"
"Because you didn't want to notice it!" she jabbed a finger at his chest, apparently completely forgetting that he was her superior. Instinctively, he caught her hand before she could draw it back, and pulled it to his heart.
"Well, I did notice… something," he muttered, "but I thought it was just what I wanted to see… that it was the work of my imagination. I still can hardly believe it could be true."
"But it is, sir. I love you," she whispered, her face so close to his that their noses were almost touching.
Laurence was overwhelmed. He had long ago given up on love, considering himself unworthy of such a grace of God, and now that it was practically offered to him on a golden plate, he felt dizzy.
"Sir…?" it was Emily who broke the silence. "Are you all right, sir?"
"Y…yes, Emily, I am fine."
"Then why do you have tears in your eyes? Have I said something that hurt you? Or… do you find it so hard to return my feelings?"
"No, Emily," he exhaled, blinking back his tears. "Remember what I told you just a minute ago? I thought I noticed only what I wanted to see. I did notice you giving me… odd glances, and I thought it was only my stupid little mind giving those glances a quality they did not hold. Subconsciously I was hoping those glances meant you loved me, but I did not dare hope for real."
"Why not?" she reached out with her free left hand to caress the side of his face.
"Because… I am so much older than you, Emily… and I am a convict while you are the daughter of the Admiral of the Air. You are way above me in every respect."
"Weird," she chuckled, "I felt the same about you. I thought you were above me in every respect. I never hoped you would love me back… but I do have a reason to hope now, don't I?"
"You need not hope for my love, Emily," he shook his head, "for it is yours already. It has been for a long time."
Her face once again lit up, and she closed the distance between them.
As their lips touched, Laurence forgot about all his intentions of visiting Temeraire. Her fingers got entangled with his greying locks and she lifted her right leg to rub the outer side of his left thigh, and he felt fire spreading in his loins, making him groan into her mouth. This must have encouraged her to push her hips into his in a fashion that made a tiny piece of his mind wonder if she still possessed the virtue he had been so wary of stealing. This thought, though tiny at first, in a matter of seconds grew large enough to fill his whole mind, and he broke the kiss and let go of her, gasping for breath and hastily arranging his cloak to hide the evidence of his desire.
"What happened?" she asked in a small voice. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No…" he bit into his lower lip, "actually… you did everything just right, but…" But it makes me wonder how many men you have done this with, he added in thought, feeling horrible pangs of jealousy. The fact that she had been in love with him did not necessarily mean she had not gone to bed with anyone else. She was, after all, Jane Roland's daughter…
"Whew," she let out a sigh of relief that turned into a giggle. "I was scared I had done it wrong! You have no idea how hard it is making sure you do something right you've never done before… especially if that something is like… this. You know, I once stumbled upon Allen making out with a maid in the Sydney covert's stable and… this is what that girl did," she shrugged with a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry if my attempt at imitating her was kind of lame…"
"It was not lame, Emily, not in the least," he replied, still painfully aware of the throb in his trousers. "So…" he hesitated for a second, "that means you have never…?"
"Of course I have never," she said, her voice sounding almost hurt. "I have saved myself for you… if you will have me."
Laurence needed all his willpower not to let out a laugh – it was the least he wanted for her to think he was laughing at her! But he could not help it, he was too happy: she wanted him, and him alone! At the same time a meek little voice in his head reminded him that he was treading dangerous grounds once again. It was one thing that she loved him and he loved her back, but what would everyone else think of their relationship? Would Jane Roland ever allow it?
"Do you not want me?" she asked, making him realise that he had been silent for too long.
"Emily," he took her hands, "I do want you, but… what if your mother does not approve of this relationship? Or even if she does approve, what if I have to go back to Australia and you have to stay here? Wellington may have promised to put in a word for me with the Prince Regent, but His Royal Highness is not known for his generosity. I am not sure if it is a good idea to jump into a relationship if we might never have a chance to stay in it."
"I am of a different opinion," she said sharply. "You are right in saying we might be forced apart, but don't you think we should use every moment as long as we can?"
"I agree with Emily," Temeraire poked his head over the hedge. "Carpe diem, that is what that Horatio person said, right?" Seeing Laurence's slightly shocked, slightly embarrassed expression, the dragon added, "Sorry. I see I am intruding. I'll leave now, I have heard Maximus and Lily were having a victory party of some sort, and I only wanted to wait for you and ask if you wanted to come along, but as I see, you have obligations elsewhere. Good night to you both… and Laurence, pray listen to Emily." With that he took wing and Laurence stared after him until he disappeared behind a smaller hill.
"So, will you listen to me?" Emily arched an eyebrow at her captain.
"I would… I only fear we might do something careless and… and if I had to leave, it would be most unfortunate if I happened to leave you in trouble."
"In trouble?" she laughed. "Never fear for that, sir. I know the calendar well enough, and today we are completely safe."
"Um… call me William," was all he managed to utter in surprise. Then again, why was he surprised? – he wondered. Jane Roland must have taught her daughter everything she needed to know about men and how to deal with them.
"Well, William," she ran a finger down his chest, "I believe my room is closer than yours. What do you say?"
Laurence did not say anything, only took her hand, and presenting her with a bashful smile, began leading her towards the barracks.
"Captain Laurence, I have been looking for you for ages!" a young runner ran to them just as they had entered through the barracks' front door. "Admiral Roland urgently wishes to talk to you in her office!"
Laurence and Emily exchanged worried glances.
"All right, I am going, thank you," Laurence told the little runner who hurried away with a relieved expression.
"I'll be waiting for you in my room," Emily said, giving his hand a squeeze.
He sent her a somewhat forced smile – he was not in the least sure he would be joining her in her room after the conversation with Jane Roland, for he had an odd sense of premonition that Jane wanted to talk to him about this almost-relationship. She might have seen them kissing on Temeraire's back, or even if she had not seen them in person, she might have heard about it. There had been just enough witnesses to spread the news…
"I love you," the girl said.
"I love you too," he replied, then took a deep breath, and headed for Admiral Roland's office.
oOo
"You wished to talk to me, Admiral."
"For heaven's sake, Laurence, call me Jane when we are alone," she sighed, looking extremely tired, "and have a seat. No, not before my desk, there," she pointed at a small table with a sofa and two armchairs. "What we have to discuss is no military business, rather something more… personal."
Laurence's heart sank. He had known it would be about Emily… Jane had ordered him to her office to tell him to stay away from her daughter. And well, she had every right to demand that of him, of a convicted traitor, of a man who was old enough to be Emily's father… and who had once been her lover. Jane had made a mistake in getting involved with Laurence, and he could not blame her for wanting to save her daughter from making the same mistake.
Steeling himself for whatever was to come, Laurence took a seat on the sofa while Jane sat in one of the armchairs.
"Laurence, I will not be beating around the bush. I have seen you and Emily kissing yesterday. Do tell, how do you feel about my daughter?"
The man felt that his mouth had gone as dry as a parchment. His fears were coming true, and he could do nothing to stop them. But he would not lie. Jane deserved to know the truth. "I love her, Jane. With all my heart."
"And she? Do you think she loves you back?"
"She does."
The woman closed her eyes and rubbed her temples as though the mere thought of her daughter and her ex in love with each other had given her a serious headache. "Since when have you been… together?" she asked, her voice sounding oddly worried.
"Just… today. She has just told me she loved me, right before your runner told me you wanted to see me."
"You haven't slept with her then?"
"No, of course not!" Laurence replied quickly, only to blush at the thought that if the runner had not crossed their path, he would very likely be ripping off Emily's clothes right now.
"Thank heaven," Jane breathed, then, as if she had just realised she had unintentionally offended him, she carried on, "Pray do not get me wrong. I have nothing against you as a person, Laurence. You are a good man, traitor or not, and I would not mind seeing you with my daughter, were the circumstances different..."
"Different?" he frowned. She was behaving very curiously: there was insecurity in her behaviour, anxiety, and even… shame? Could Jane Roland be ashamed of anything?
"Laurence…" she hesitated for a moment, "it is not easy for me to tell you this… God, I do not think anything has ever been this hard!"
Laurence was truly at a loss now – Jane was simply not being herself. "Jane, what happened? Can I help somehow?"
"No, not unless you can turn back time and change the past…" A look of embarrassment flashed across her face, and her hands were shaking in her lap. "Laurence, remember when I told you that I didn't think Emily's father even knew her name? Well, in fact it was not only her name he did not know, but also her mere existence. He never knew we had a child as he never knew my name, and I didn't know his either until… until after you left for Australia."
Laurence furrowed his brow – he could not fathom what his departure for Australia could have to do with Emily's paternity. "I fear I am not following you, Jane."
She heaved a deep sigh and looked deep into his eyes. "Laurence… you are a religious man, if I am not mistaken… therefore you may not be involved with Emily, unless you want to live in a deadly sin."
"Deadly sin?" Laurence echoed her. He had never seen this woman looking so pale.
"Yes," she nodded. "Laurence… Emily's father is your father. You two are brother and sister."
oOo
A/N: evil enough? Don't hesitate, pour your wrath upon me in a review (as long as you don't flame, LOL)!
