A/N: Hello, people! Here I am with another chapter! A huge thank you to: deppfan11, MissMisc3, lottielovebuzz, sunny, Newland Archer, XantheXV, TinkerbellxO, PGAEmma, Makrciana, dionne dance and whatcatydidnext. You are all wonderful!

*I have changed the rating to M for this chapter...*

Disclaimer: I do not own the Libertine.


Chapter 7

Rather what pleasure shou'd I meet

In my triumphant scorn,

To see my tyrant at my feet;

Whil'st taught by her, unmoved I sit

A tyrant in my turn.

~John Wilmot (1674)

The days passed in peace. Life went back to its normal idleness. Strolls in the garden, enduring the long rainy days of the country, rare horseback riding trips and tedious family dinners and tea parties concluded Elizabeth's life after London. No letters, no visits from peerage members; nothing.

In a way she was glad she was back to her normal life. She had never complained about the way life flowed for her. On the contrary; she hated tragic love stories and big life dramas. They brought nothing but heartache in the end. The root of loss should be torn out before it can expand. And that was exactly what she did.

She endured her father's silent treatment and her mother's disappointed sighs. Elizabeth listened on as she muttered about weddings and planning and all that she had been hoping for before their trip to the city. With each word, she dug a deeper hole in Elizabeth's chest because she knew that she could have all that with a simple word. Instead, she kept her silence and spent hours locked in her room; either reading or knitting fabrics that she doubted she'd ever get to use.

Everything seemed normal until one day in particular. The day a letter from Whitehall arrived with an invitation her father could never refuse. Elizabeth had to pretend once again.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"It's just a pity that I cannot accompany you." Sir John's voice echoed in the parlor as Elizabeth and Lady Hawley fiddled with their long cloaks.

"Knowing you two, you shall once again ruin this opportunity. We need to be close to the King."

"Oh hush, you!"

Elizabeth gazed at her mother blankly, her eyes weary and her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Do not worry. We shall not talk at all. We will simply dine there and be done with it. Won't we, Lizzie?"

Elizabeth gave a sharp nod. "Of course, Mother. I shall only be there to enhance the Great Hall." she replied calmly, "And I won't deny gentlemen's advances this time. I shall dance until my feet are raw. Oh and I won't accept strolls in the garden either. Especially if Lord Sheffield is there." She smiled as complacently as she could, but she knew that the sarcasm was evident in her cool voice.

"Elizabeth, don't forget another certain Earl." Sir John narrowed his eyes as he looked at her with severity.

"That would be impossible." She replied flippantly and her mother gasped.

"Lizzie! We've talked about this before."

"I hope you haven't forgotten how blatantly he insulted your parents upon his visit here. Would you accept a man who has no regard for your family?" Her father's tone was mildly surprised.

"I'd accept anyone who would see me as something more than an object. Does that answer your question, Papa?" She tugged on her gloves and looked at him icily.

"There's no reasoning with you, child. Now be gone. Your grandfather shall meet you there and then he will escort you to your lodgings for the night. Farewell." He turned on his heel and disappeared into his study, his heavy boots thudding loudly on the ground.

"You should know better than provoke him, Lizzie. I am sure that if you had behaved differently he wouldn't have rejected the Earl's generous offer. I still have his various presents on my boudoir."

Elizabeth turned sharply towards her, "I beg your pardon? Did you not return his gifts?" She hissed and her mother hushed her.

"You do not return gifts! Especially the ones given to you by a nobleman."

"That is pathetic. You send the man away, but you keep his offerings? You must return them immediately."

"You're being ridiculous! He'd see it as an offence-…"

"Mother!" Elizabeth cut her off, "Bring them. I shall put them in my purse."

Lady Hawley paused and then scowled, "You and your stubbornness! I shall be out shortly."

She disappeared in a billow of skirts and Elizabeth released a long breath. She turned away, her deep blue cloak flowing at her feet as she felt her lungs constrict with dread. Needing fresh air, she walked out of the house and into the coolness of the morning breeze. Clutching at her stomach, she nodded at the coach driver who returned it with a bright smile.

"Good morrow, my Lady!" He tipped his hat and Elizabeth basked in his wide beam. She needed to see at least one cheerful person.

When the cold became too much for her skin, she slid smoothly into the carriage and waited. She pushed the hood of her cloak back and took a deep breath as she settled onto the squab. A flash of red shone in the morning sun, but she didn't see it. She forgot that she was still wearing her crimson pin and that it didn't match her attire.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Oh my Lord!" Her mother's gasp was enough to make her weary of looking up. Instead, she gently tapped her fingers on her linen napkin. All kinds of food were laid upon the table and the wine was flowing in generous rivulets from the pitchers. Elizabeth had not touched the food, but had tried the wine. The first sip had made her go wide eyed, but the second had been better. By the tenth sip, she was slightly dizzy, but in a nice way. Even her mother's ramblings seemed less obnoxious and she smiled a little.

"Look at that dress! Oh for the love of God! No wonder he's dancing with her. How disgusting. She must be a courtesan." Lady Hawley seemed deep in thought, "What do you-…Lizzie, what on earth are you smiling about?"

Elizabeth looked at her mother, "Pardon? Is it a crime to smile? Look around you! We are all merry!" She pointed at the gentlemen across from her who gazed at her peculiarly before they raised their glasses towards her direction.

"Lizzie! Focus! Now who is that woman?" Her mother nudged her to catch her attention.

"What woman?"
"The one dancing with Rochester!"

The name brought a surge of combined heat and coldness deep in the pit of her stomach and for a moment she froze, her eyes staring unblinkingly at the couple dancing among the sea of people.

"Elizabeth? Do you know her?"

She blinked and averted her eyes, a fierce blush on her cheeks when she noticed how unashamedly low the Earl's hand was on Ms. Davis' waist.

"That's not a simple courtesan, Mother. It's Ms. Moll Davis, one of the King's mistresses." She replied in a thick voice as she looked up again.

"Oh, yes! I had forgotten about her indeed! Well, they make quite the pair." She noted with a grimace of displeasure.

"I disagree. She looks less refined than he does. If you excuse me." She pushed her chair back and Lady Hawley gaped at her, swiftly catching her wrist in a vice like grip.

"Lizzie! Where are you going? Your grandfather won't approve. It's late-…"

"I need some fresh air." Her eyes were wide and beseeching, but her mother shook her head.

"It's just the wine. Eat something. They have the food you like-…"

"I'll just be a moment."

"Lizzie-…"

"Mother. I need some fresh air." Her voice rose in volume and Lady Hawley quickly released her as if burned.

"Fine. Go before you make a spectacle out of yourself." She hissed and Elizabeth turned on her heel and walked away in a blur of blue skirts.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Are my eyes deceiving me?"

Elizabeth spun around quickly at the voice. Her eyes widened and she bowed her head, leaning forward in a low curtsy.

"Your Majesty." She murmured, keeping her eyes on the ground.

"If it's not the young Lady Malet…Are you here to make my palace more enticing, young lady?" The King reached out and offered her his hand which she quickly took and kissed it quickly.

"You are too kind, Your Majesty." She smiled a little.

"I think not. Johnny, come see who is here."

Elizabeth's smile froze on her lips and she quickly straightened as the King pulled his hand away.

Her eyes clashed with the Earl's brown gaze and for a moment the world started spinning.

"My Lady." He bowed and gently twirled his walking stick between his fingers, his face betraying none of the animosity he had presented her with the last time she had seen him. He looked alarmingly calm and relaxed.

"My Lord Rochester." She inclined her head and then folded her hands in front of her.

"Why are you here all by yourself? I hope you do not feel ashamed of your parents' abrupt leave." The King told her kindly, but she could see curiosity in his dull dark eyes.

"I must apologize to your Majesty. I-…"

"Never fear, child. I shall speak with your grandfather. He has requested an audience with me tonight. But I must insist that you enjoy yourself while at my court. Heavens…" the King trailed off and Elizabeth was sure that her eyes looked too glassy. Color blossomed upon her skin, starting from her collarbones and spreading to her cheeks.

"Johnny, please do something about Ms. Malet's sadness at once. Dance with her. I shall see you both later."

Rochester bowed low and his eyes followed the King's retreating back with intensity until he turned and let his gaze fall on Elizabeth.

She fidgeted where she stood and when he remained silent she made to pass by him. His cane blocked her way and she gasped when he grasped her elbow. His fingers were burning her skin even through her sleeve.

"Stay." The word was murmured and she swallowed hard as she raised her eyes to his face.

"I mustn't."

"But it's the King's pleasure." His lips twitched into his infamous smirk and she looked away.

"Is it?"

The Earl ignored her words and tugged her gently towards the Hall.

"Come."

He led her through the doors and back into the crowd of people. His cane was thrust unceremoniously towards one of the footmen and Elizabeth barely registered the movement.

His hand fell heavy on her lower back and his right one clutched her fingers tightly. His eyes didn't linger on her. Instead, they flickered towards the King's table.

"I daresay your dull eyes could be easily compared with the Queen's. She looks just as glum to be here. Were you forced?" His words were murmured behind his teeth and Elizabeth had to strain her ears in order to hear him.

"Not really, my Lord." She whispered in response and one eyebrow rose in question.

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

He twirled them around sharply and Elizabeth went nearly dizzy.

"How is your health?" The question was sharp and clipped and…odd coming from his lips.

"I am well. I trust you are as well?" She looked up at him, her eyes on his jaw when she realized that he was staring at something beyond her shoulder.

"Your family is glaring at me, Elizabeth. I wonder why…"

She almost fled his arms at those words, but his hand on her waist tightened almost impossibly. His arm was hot and heavy around her and she swore that the heat he was exuding was almost unnatural for a human person.

"I…"

"Are they perhaps mad that you have found yourself in love with me?" His question was almost angry, vibrating with a furious energy that nearly made her knees buckle.

"My Lord." She breathed out, her tone a light scold.

"My Lady." he hissed right back, "You must congratulate yourself that I find myself still enthralled by you." He pulled back, out of her arms only to give her a sharp twirl, "Luckily for you and your family, my desire is far greater than my fury." He dragged her back to him sharply and she groaned softly when she collided with his chest. Her skirts swooshed loudly as he moved them around and she barely had time to keep up with his dexterous pace.

"You're terrible at reining in your anger, my Lord. Everyone has taken notice of our dispute." She almost gasped when he dipped her backwards and then pulled her in tight again.

"And you are a terrible coward, madam." he spat down at her and she froze, "I wonder what kind of scandal it would cause to just simply lean down and steal your lips for just one moment. I am certain that then your family would give me your hand. They wouldn't be able to bear the shame, would they?" His eyes roamed her face and she blinked rapidly.

"You speak dangerously, sir."

"I must act accordingly as well, don't you think?" His fingers hooked on the laces of her dress and he tugged hungrily at them, "I must live up to my reputation, don't you agree? Since you so pathetically refuse to see the truth-…"

"My Lord!" She stomped heavily on his foot and he smirked at the sudden pain, "You know nothing of my truth. Release me at once or I'll scream."

His fingers only weaved further into the laces and she looked around frantically, hoping and praying that no one had seen his bold move.

"Release you? Is that what you desire, my Lady?" He moved his face closer to hers, his lips a breath away from her tightly shut mouth.

"Yes. Someone's going to take notice." She wriggled subtly in his hold, her hand pressing on his taut stomach in an effort to push him away, but he wasn't budging. It was like trying to move a pack of heavy stones.

"You're blushing." His voice was gruff when he spoke and his eyes curious, swimming in the obscure glimmering of his lust and she fought hard not to be entranced by them.

"Of course I am!" she hissed, "We're in public."

"I don't think you care about the public. If you cared you wouldn't be trying to get away. You'd stay still like a proper lady and endure the touch of this rogue-…"

"Rogue or not, you're being cruel!" She grabbed his arm and twisted it away from her body before she pushed herself away from him.

He didn't even stumble and instead of fury she saw amusement. She was overthrown for a moment and all she could do was stare at him in shock.

"Elizabeth," he breathed as he grasped her hand and pulled it to his lips, "I've missed you." He murmured against her skin, his eyes alight with something deep and…dangerous. She allowed him to press his mouth to her palm and then, as quickly as he had touched her, he released her and stepped back.

"How long are you staying?" he asked as he beckoned the footman closer, guiding her subtly away from the dance floor.

"Not long. We're leaving tomorrow…"

He curled his fingers tightly around the handle of his walking stick and smirked.

"I will see you again before the night is over."

With that, he turned and disappeared among the sea of people.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"I cannot believe you let him dance with you! It was so inappropriate after everything!"

Elizabeth gazed outside the carriage window with her mouth firmly shut.

"Daughter, John Wilmot is a member of the peerage. Elizabeth could never deny him her company in public. Stop discussing something that has so little importance. You also judge the King's mistresses and yet you talked with Ms. Davis until I had to drag you away." Her grandfather scolded mildly and Elizabeth for once was glad he intervened.

"Fine…But he was so smug while he had been dancing…He even glared at me! Me!" She snorted in an unladylike manner before she continued, "Did you return his gifts?"

Elizabeth froze. No. No, she hadn't. She had completely forgotten about it the moment she had spotted him.

She simply shook her head in the negative and leaned her head towards her open palm. Her head still felt heavy from all the wine she had consumed.

"Heavens, child. Where is your head?" Her mother exclaimed with exasperation and when the coach shook on the bumpy road Elizabeth winced and closed her eyes.

"Leave her be, Elizabeth. Lizzie is never inappropriate. And don't forget that you were young once yourself. I won't mention the way you behaved every time you saw John." Her grandfather sounded awfully amused and her mother's gasp was too loud in Elizabeth's ears.

Elizabeth looked outside the window as her mother gasped and continued to defend herself.

Elizabeth blocked the voices out. She was too anxious, too ruffled to care about her mother's words. Even as she shifted upon the carriage seat she could still feel the Earl's hand upon her waist. It was as if his fingers had left their mark on her skin. She had yet to get rid of the feeling of his nimble fingertips on the back laces of her dress. Blinking, she shifted further towards the window, burying her face in the hood of her cloak and closing her eyes in an effort to forget. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Someone was complaining again. Elizabeth stirred when a gloved hand curled around her arm only to pull away a moment later. Her brow furrowed as the muffled voices disturbed her much needed sleep. A sudden breeze blew in and messed up her hair, causing her to shiver. Blinking her eyes open, she was surprised to see that the carriage was empty. She sat up straight and placed a hand on her forehead.

"Mother?" She called and a muffled yelp was her only response.

Realizing that they were not at their lodgings, but simply standing at Charing Cross she tensed up. Her eyes searched around frantically until she realized that the carriage was probably attacked by thieves. Not thinking, she followed the muffled sounds and peered out of the left carriage door. She could see nothing and she quickly slipped back inside. Only that in her hurry she lost her balance. Her foot caught the hem of her heavy dress and she found herself falling backwards and backwards at a fast speed. She cried out in fright, her arms flailing in an effort to catch herself on the coach's seats, but the fall she had been expecting never came. Arms curled around her waist and she yelped as she was pushed against a heavy body. Her savior or possible attacker groaned at the impact, his voice hoarse and gruff, before he tugged her backwards. Her feet scraped the carriage floor and when she opened her mouth to scream, a dirty hand covered her lips. Her eyes widened and she thrashed in the man's hold like a fish that had been dragged with force out of the water. Her heart was beating wildly inside her chest and she could feel herself fighting for breath. It seemed like she couldn't get enough air through her nose and she felt her lungs expand inside her ribcage as if they were ready to explode.

Her eyes could barely see in the semi darkness, but she knew that the sounds she had heard were her mother's yelps. Instinct overtook her again and she tried to free herself by slamming her elbow hard against the man's side. He groaned, but it only succeeded in slowing him down a bit.

"Stop it." The voice commanded harshly as she repeated the movement again, but she didn't obey. Thrusting her elbow hard against the man's ribs she tried to twist her body away, but he was too bulky for her.

"My Lady, stop it!" The voice was exasperated and then she was roughly turned towards the other side. The man knew who she was then. Her fear reached even higher levels and she almost fainted at the countless possibilities.

Suddenly, her eyes encountered another large coach and her knees nearly buckled at the sight of it. A whimper rose deep in her throat and she used her free hand to scratch at the man, but he only groaned and pulled her off her feet. With a curse, he pushed her unceremoniously inside the other coach and she gasped. Her feet hit the edge of the carriage and she cried out in pain. Her body swayed dangerously inside the coach's cabin until another pair of arms curled around her form and pulled her into a warm chest. She visibly jolted when she was pulled over someone's lap.

"Careful, you idiot!" The words were a hiss and Elizabeth pushed her hood back and looked up.

A hand came up to cradle the back of her head, preventing her from seeing him while the man's free hand reached out to pull the coach's door shut.

"Apologies, m'Lord."

The response was muffled because the carriage abruptly started moving.

Breaking out of her shock and mildly aware of the fact that her entire body ached, she looked up. Green eyes collided with brown ones and she let out an undignified squeak of surprise before she thrust herself back and away from the hands that were holding her.

Her backside collided, thankfully, with the squab and her eyes flew out grasp the seat's edges.

"It cannot be." She whispered and the man sitting across from her reached up to push back the black hood of his cloak. Brown locks of hair tumbled down his neck and shoulders and he casually crossed his legs in an almost regal manner. His dark eyes were slightly wrinkled at the corners, a sign of his amusement, though his lips were betraying nothing of said delight.

"You…you…" Her eyes took in his baggy poet's shirt and dark brown breeches, and finally her gaze fell on his expensive black boots. Her mouth went dry.

"Good evening, my Lady." Rochester murmured calmly as if he hadn't just taken her from her coach by force.

"Evening? It is almost midnight!"

"And that is exactly why a young woman such as yourself shouldn't travel during the dark." His nimble fingers reached up and loosened the ties of the cloak from around his neck until it fell loosely around his shoulders.

Elizabeth sputtered, "You…you scared me out of my wits! What have you done? My Lord!" She almost yelped in order to get a response out of him, but he simply fiddled with the golden ring around his little finger.

"Your family is fine. Have no worries. I see that you're still wearing my gift." His voice which was hoarse and low was causing her to shiver. His eyes were unfathomably dark.

"Are you listening to yourself? You…you…"

"You're lovely when flushed." His reply caused her to become more aware of the fierce blush on her cheeks and for a moment she was speechless.

"My Lord…"

"I apologize for frightening you…It was not my intention." The words rolled off his tongue like honeyed poison because his expression betrayed his sinister thoughts.

"Frighten me? I almost fainted…I…thought I was going to be attacked if not raped!" She cursed at herself when she realized that moisture was pooling in her eyes and Rochester frowned a little. Was he drunk?

He leaned forward, "I assure you no one is going to disrespect your honor." He breathed and then his lips curled into a crooked grin, "There will be no rape involved. I find it futile and disgusting." His eyes roamed her form until they came to rest on her bruised ankles.

He reached out ready to touch them through her stockings and she gasped, pulling them out of his reach or at least trying to.

He clicked his tongue and seized them with both hands, his long fingers curling around her thin ankles like shackles.

"Stop it. Elizabeth." Her name was hissed and she suddenly became very still. He stared into her eyes for a few moments before he slapped his hand hard against the side of the carriage.

"Drive us to Adderbury and fast." His voice was loud, sharp and confident and Elizabeth suddenly realized his intention.

"No…You cannot do this. You must take me back. Take me back and no one will know. My Lord, I beg you." She whispered and in a flash he was next to her on the seat, his hands on her waist and his face close to hers.

"You worry about me. About my reputation." he murmured huskily and she gazed at him wide eyed, "You do not fear me and yet I could hurt you so easily." His fingers slid teasingly up her side until they were brushing over her heaving chest.

"It'd be so easy to just take what I want…and you'd love it all the same, wouldn't you?"

Her face turned an even darker shade of pink, but she shook her head, "I am not afraid of you. They can have you trialed for this…I…"

"Not afraid of me, are you?" His left hand covered her mouth and she whimpered when his free hand flew down to her leg. His fingers took hold of her heavy skirts and he drew them up around her thighs. His warm fingers trailed up and down her leg until they hooked around her stocking. He pulled the fabric away from her knee only to release it again. He repeated the movement until he groaned and slid the stocking down her leg. His fingers grasped and kneaded her calf and then slipped higher.

Elizabeth watched his face with shock, her entire body numb from his touch and him. He smelled of sweet wine and musk and she had to close her eyes for a moment.

Hot, moist lips covered her own and she shuddered at the unexpected sensation. A hand weaved itself deep in her hair, pulling pins and ribbons away with ferocity. The carriage shook and bumped as it rolled over the muddy road and each jolt caused their teeth to clash together almost painfully. His teeth closed around her lower lip and his tongue laved at it in warmth and wetness until his fingers parted her legs. His hand delved between the apex of her thighs and pressed against her with almost needy intent.

Elizabeth grasped at his wrist in an effort to stop him, to pull his hand away, but his teeth came down hard on her plump bottom lip in a stinging bite that had her gasping for breath. His tongue slid into her mouth at her surprised gasp and his fingers found their target, pushing her undergarments aside along with her inhibitions.

She whimpered first and he smirked against her lips as his fingers teased and brushed over her with a playfulness that was only betrayed by his hungry mouth. He curled his fingers around her hair and tugged roughly until she had to crane her neck backwards to avoid discomfort. He released her lips with an audible pop and she gasped, her hand flexing around his wrist and her nails digging into his skin almost painfully.

He groaned at the pain, but he pushed his hand deeper, touching her firmly and skillfully until she had to close her eyes against the feelings that were flooding her veins. Sizzling bliss surged through her entire body and she arched her back and curled the fingers of her free hand around his cloak. He gave a shrug and it pooled on the carriage floor, but he didn't seem to care because his leg slipped between hers, forcing her knee further apart and holding it there as she sunk her fingers in his hair instead. He smirked and then he twisted his wrist, rubbing harder as he latched his lips onto the side of her neck in response.

"My God!" The exclamation caused him to chuckle darkly against her skin and with a last glide of his clever fingers she came apart in his arms. His arm curled around her back and he pulled her to him, pressing her face in the crook of his neck, and after sliding his fingers teasingly over her trembling inner thighs he pulled his hand back, sinking it deeply in her loose hair instead.

"Oh you shall pray, my darling. Soon you shall be praying for more." His voice was low and his breathing equally labored as hers, but Elizabeth was too shocked, too numb with foreign emotions to speak, let alone think about his words.

So, when he gathered her onto his lap and settled her there sideways she didn't object. And when he leaned down and kissed her until she couldn't breathe she only clutched at him more tightly. When his arms closed tight around her, she bit her tongue in order not to make a sound, and as his left hand slid down to caress her thigh rhythmically she gasped, only barely feeling the kiss he pressed on top of her head in poorly disguised reverence. That kiss alone was even more disarming than the pleasure she had just experienced in his wicked arms.

She faintly spoke and trembling lay

For fear he should comply

But virgins' eyes their hearts betray,

And give their tongues the lie:

Thus she who princes had deny'd

With all their pompous train,

Was in the lucky minute try'd

And yielded to a swain.

~ John Wilmot, Song (1676)

End of chapter 7

Author's note: Ahem, still here? Did I make it justice? Just so you know, it is not over yet…Ahem. So, thank you for reading! Comments, please? I really, really need your thoughts…Feed me some love?

Oh and the abduction truly did take place in Charing Cross near Whitehall…in May 26, 1665…Just so you know…right! I am off!

Until next time!

Xxx Lina ;o)