Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to post this... I wrote it quite some time ago, but wanted to polish it up a bit. I'd be lying if I said I was entirely happy with it, but so many of you have messaged me asking to post I didn't want to put it off any longer! Please let me know what you think, and thank you again nightkate and everyone else for your reviews!

Edit: Updated 04.15.10 because I can never leave well enough alone. I'm much happier with it now... Hopefully you are too. Of course I have no idea if you're happy with anything, as no one has yet reviewed... *guilt guilt guilt*

The Lieutenant and the Lady

Chapter Seven

Whatever It Appears To Be

Whatever Tom had expected Lady Evelyn might request of him, it had certainly not been this. He felt a sudden wave of disorientation as he wondered whether the heated fantasies he'd been unable to ignore (her body soft and warm and yielding beneath his, his hands pushing up her skirt impatiently as he teases her mouth open with his, her fingers tightening in his hair as he pushes her hard against the bench, oh god) had somehow taken over, and he was now confusing them with reality. It was too impossible to imagine that she was honestly sitting there, alone with him in the darkness, and inviting him quite calmly to give into every urge he'd been fighting to deny. Too impossible and too cruel, because surrendering to his baser instincts was simply not an option, no matter how much he wished it was.

And he did wish it was, wished it more than he could properly understand. Even in the darkness of the garden, Lady Evelyn wasn't pretty. She wasn't exactly plain, or at least not as plain as she had been in the bright candlelight of the ballroom, but "not exactly plain" was a far cry from beautiful. Yet there was something about her, had been since he'd met her, something about her sensually provocative voice or the intelligent expression on her admittedly ordinary face, and whether it made sense or not he wanted her. Desperately. It was killing him to have her so close, to have her looking at him with her eyes so vulnerable and hesitant, to know that if he leaned forward and touched his lips to hers the way he was dying to she would not recoil but would welcome him.

Not that he believed she wanted him, exactly, or at least not in the same way he wanted her. What he currently felt for her could only be termed blind lust, and surely a lady of her status would never feel such a thing, or even comprehend such a thing. How innocent she was to imagine that she could be so alone with him, and sit so close to him, and ask such a favor of him and yet believe it would all be chaste. He had never felt less inclination towards chastity in his entire life, though it had always come almost unnaturally easy to him in the past. His gaze focused unbidden on her mouth, and he almost groaned aloud when she brought her even white teeth down on her full lower lip, biting it nervously. It was far too easy to imagine doing the same, nipping her gently and then kissing her to soothe the hurt and oh god he was literally going insane.

"Lady Evelyn-" he began, voice so rough as to be nearly unrecognizable, finally breaking the silence which he only now realized had lasted far too long and become heavy and charged. Tom had no speech planned, no idea of what he was about to say; he spoke purely because he had to do something with his mouth other than press it to hers while he still had the willpower, any willpower at all. It was perhaps as well that she interrupted him almost immediately.

"No. No." There was an edge of hysteria to her voice, the panic distorting its sensual tone, and she raised her free hand as though to physically hold back any further words he might speak. "No. Oh god. Oh god. Please, just… Forget this, please forget this. Forget I was ever here at all. I am such a fool."

Abruptly, she tried to stand, but her other hand still rested on top of Tom's, and he seized it unthinkingly. Her fingers felt fragile and delicate as he gripped them, their softness another mark of her station; the hands of his mother and sisters were nearly as callused as his own. "Lady Evelyn, please-"

"Please what?" she asked in a quiet, vulnerable voice. "What could you possibly say? I don't think I could stand your polite refusal. Or your pity," she added, so softly he wasn't sure she'd said it at all. "I must beg you to let me go."

He longed to tell her he didn't pity her, didn't want to refuse her politely or otherwise, wanted only precisely what she wanted and even more, but he didn't. Nor did he pull her close and kiss her breathless, though it was a very near thing. He started to relax his hold on her hand, surprised by his own reluctance to do so. "Lady Evelyn-" he began again, though again he wasn't sure quite what he intended to say.

And again, he was interrupted. "Tom," William's voice called, preceding the younger lieutenant into the little clearing by barely a second. "Tom, are you here?"

Shocked, Tom released Lady Evelyn's hand immediately, but he wasn't fast enough. Will's stunned expression clearly stated that he had seen the way his friend had been cradling it. "Oh god," Lady Evelyn whispered, rising abruptly. "Forgive me." Her stricken gaze met his, then darted to Will for a brief moment. The two stared at each other for what felt like an extremely long time before Lady Evelyn suddenly turned and made her way back towards the house at nearly a run.

"Good lord, Tom," Will breathed, eyes wide with astonishment. "I did not expect… I mean, you… Lady Evelyn… Good lord, Tom."

Tom shook his head in an attempt to clear it and force himself to focus. Everything had happened so ungodly fast that he felt he was still several moments behind. "It… It is not… I do not know what it appears to be," he stammered, "but I am almost certain that whatever it appears to you to be is not the case."

"Good lord, Tom," Will repeated, still so stunned he was seemingly almost dazed with it.

"You required my presence for some reason?" Tom asked desperately, standing and approaching his friend.

Will nodded vaguely, clearly still preoccupied. "Yes, I… Yes. Captain Aubrey seems to have disappeared…" He trailed off before apparently returning to his senses. "I was hoping you might assist me in searching for him. He was quite deep in his cups, if you recall, and I believe it would be best for us to find him, rather than any other guest."

"Of course," Tom agreed immediately. He knew the kinds of trouble Captain Aubrey was apt to get into while intoxicated, and of course wished to prevent any breath of scandal attaching itself to his mentor and friend. Beyond that, he couldn't help hoping this new mission of sorts might distract Will from what he had witnessed. "When did you last see him?"

"Ah…" Will darted a quick look at Tom. "About the same time I last saw you. I thought you must be together as you'd both headed towards the gardens."

"Well," Tom began, desperately wanting to keep Will's focus far from conjecture about what he might have been doing as he had obviously not been in the captain's company, "I came by way of this path from the ballroom and did not see Captain Aubrey at all… Perhaps it might be best to circle around the opposite way? I believe the path loops back to the terrace if we continue along."

Without a word, Will gave one short nod and made his way back to the path. Tom followed, feeling awkward and guilty, though why he should he had no idea. He was embarrassed, of course, but there was no need for guilt. Hadn't he resisted temptation, after all? Nothing had happened with Lady Evelyn, nothing for which he ought to reproach himself, and nothing would have happened; he was almost sure of it. Perhaps it was the "almost" in that phrase that filled him with a sense of shame.

Will, of course, was not the kind of friend to leave this sort of situation alone; Tom had not expected he would. After a minute or two, he finally broke the uncomfortable silence. "Tom…" he began, voice hesitant, "I'm certain you have no wish to discuss this, but I believe we must. I am concerned for you. You are far too honorable to attempt to ruin a lady, so I must assume that Lady Evelyn lured you into some kind of assignation-"

Tom was torn between being offended on Lady Evelyn's behalf and amused on his own. In the end, he laughed; he couldn't help it. "Surely you do not imagine that a woman of Lady Evelyn's status could have any designs on me? It was all utterly innocent," he explained earnestly. "We met on the path and began a conversation, then thought it best to continue it in that copse. It was nothing, I assure you."

"Why did you not offer to escort her back to the house once you met?" Will inquired.

Much struck by this suggestion, Tom shrugged helplessly. "It never occurred to me. Ought I to have done?"

Shaking his head, Will gave his friend a disbelieving look. "Of course you ought to have done; that was the proper thing to do in such a situation. Surely you must understand that if anyone save myself had found you together, Lady Evelyn's reputation would be ruined? Surely you must understand the consequences?"

"How am I to understand such things?" Tom demanded, exasperated. "This is not my world, Will; I think sometimes you forget it. How can a simple conversation ruin a lady's reputation? What consequences do you refer to? It is all utterly alien to me."

"I really do forget sometimes," Will murmured. "Your behavior is so gentlemanly, it is easy to forget you were not born to it." Though he forced himself not to show it, Tom was deeply touched by this compliment, as much by the matter-of-fact way it was stated as by the sentiments expressed. However, the glowing sense of pride he felt dimmed slightly as he remembered his less than gentlemanly thoughts about a certain lady, leaving him only with the wish that he could deserve Will's praise. He gave no outward sign of these thoughts as his friend continued. "But allow me to enlighten you: by all the rules of society, you have compromised Lady Evelyn. Had anyone else found you, you'd have been required to either offer for the woman or eat grass for breakfast."

Tom blinked. "Surely not."

"Indeed," Will countered. "It is quite a serious matter, compromising a lady."

"But…" Tom hesitated, knowing he was about to expose his ignorance to his friend but unable to prevent it. "Why on earth would anyone eat grass for breakfast?"

Will stared at him, uncomprehending. "Lord, Tom! Grass for breakfast… It means a duel, pistols at dawn. And considering that you would have been the one to deliver the insult, you would have been obliged to let her father shoot you in the face if it pleased him."

To Tom, the thought that a simple conversation, even one as confusing and heated (on his own side) as that which he and Lady Evelyn had been engaged in, could result in a bullet to the skull was ridiculous. Society, it seemed, had a very low opinion of a gentleman's ability to control himself. Not that it had been easy, necessarily, but he had managed it, and he was certainly no gentleman. Something about his friend's explanation bothered him, however. "Will, you said earlier that by all the rules of society, I had compromised Lady Evelyn. What precisely does that mean?"

"The fact that she was alone with you for an extended period of time calls her reputation into question," Will told him patiently. "You could have been doing anything you liked to her, you know. Not that you would have, or did!" he hastened to add. "I'd never think such a thing, no one who knew you would. But if anyone else had found you, a belief in the strength of your character would not be enough to save her good name."

"So if anyone else had found us, Lady Evelyn's reputation would be compromised… But no one else did, so it's… Not?" Tom surmised uncertainly.

Will shrugged. "Technically speaking, her reputation has already been compromised. It's just that no one knows about it. But if I were to tell someone- which I would never do, of course!- or someone else had seen you- which I am sure no one did!- then Lady Evelyn would be considered… I do hesitate to apply such a coarse term to a lady, but society would consider her to be 'used goods', quite unmarriageable."

The term "used goods" was unexpectedly painful to Tom, mainly because he knew the assumption implicit within it was that he was the one who had used her. It struck him as remarkably unfair that she might be subjected to any kind of censure purely because she'd had the misfortune to converse with him. "Will, forgive me, but do you mean to say that our conversation could somehow damage Lady Evelyn were it to become known?"

"Good lord, Tom," Will groaned, the words practically a curse. "You have that look on your face, the one that tells me you're considering something ridiculously, unnecessarily honorable."

Tom wanted to protest that given what Will had just explained to him, an offer of marriage seemed almost a requirement, but his friend's glare cowed him into silence.

"Put such things from your mind at once," Will commanded. "You must be careful. You are ignorant of the rules of society; I know your actions with Lady Evelyn were innocent. But think: to Lady Evelyn, knowledge of society comes as easy as breathing. She knew what the consequences would be if you were caught, and I am not nearly so convinced as you are that she has no designs on you. Imagine it from her perspective, if you please. You are a brave, handsome hero with excellent prospects, and she is a Friday-faced spinster. I daresay she would consider herself quite lucky to trap you into matrimony… To trap anyone into it, really."

Tom felt a surprising jolt of anger at his friend's words. He did not like to hear Lady Evelyn insulted, despite knowing the words Will spoke were true. Well, all except the part about him being handsome; a Turkish scimitar had put paid to that, of course. "That's unworthy of you, Will," he reprimanded, the coldness in his voice unnerving even to himself. "Lady Evelyn has been nothing but kind to me; I cannot think so ill of her."

Seeming somewhat taken aback by his defense of the lady, Will gave Tom a searching look. "Forgive me. I did not realize you felt so strongly about this."

Sighing, Tom returned his friend's look. "Please do not mistake my motives; I feel strongly that Lady Evelyn is a caring woman, perhaps a bit lonely. I am not foolish enough to harbor any other strong feelings for her. I do not look so high."

"But would you? If you thought you could?" Will asked gently.

"Of course not," Tom answered with perfect honesty. "Never." So many of Will's assumptions were amusing to him: his assumption that his own interest in Lady Evelyn must be either innocent or romantic, for example. If only his friend knew… There had been nothing innocent about his fantasies of her, and they were only romantic in the most technical sense. Will would never understand any of it, of course. "But if I have harmed her reputation through my ignorance, am I not duty bound to make what amends are within my power? I am no kind of match for her, of course… Yet I would not have her injured because of me."

"Yes, and perhaps that is what she is counting on," Will pointed out.

Again, Tom felt anger at his friend. "Be careful, Will. I will not have her spoken of with anything less than respect."

"I apologize," Will stated after a momentary pause, clearly taken aback. "Perhaps I spoke too hastily, mistook Lady Evelyn's motives. Perhaps she is innocent in all of this. But I will say that her mother is fair desperate to have her child married off. She did all she could to force the two of us together while you were in company with Admiral Fanshaw. In the end I could only avoid asking Lady Evelyn to dance by fleeing to the card room."

Tom's irritation with his friend increased. Did he not comprehend how insulting he was being to a girl he barely knew? Dancing with Lady Evelyn had been quite pleasant, not a punishment to be avoided. He didn't know why he felt so much like defending her; perhaps it was because he was only now beginning to understand how much of an outcast she really was, even amongst her own society. It was a feeling Tom could relate to, and he had a deep sense of sympathy for her. "I think it would be best if we changed the subject, William."

Will shot his friend a curious glance. "If you wish, Tom. What shall we discuss instead? I suppose I might mention that we are almost to the terrace, and not a trace of the captain to be- Hello, what's this?"

Following Will's gaze, Tom sighed when he saw a large figure in a royal navy uniform sitting on the ground, back propped up against a tree. His chin rested on his chest, hiding his face in shadow, but the fair hair shining in the moonlight was recognizable enough. "Can we get him to the carriage between us, do you think?" Tom's voice held a note of resigned amusement.

"We've managed similar feats well enough in the past," Will replied. The two friends exchanged exasperated smiles, both remembering well-supplied dinners in the gunroom that had ended with the two of them walking the captain back to his cabin. The memories went a long way towards restoring the sense of camaraderie Tom usually felt with his second, and he was relieved to feel his unaccustomed annoyance with his friend dissipate.

Bending to help Will hoist Captain Aubrey to his feet, Tom reflected that this was familiar, this was ordinary. This was part of what life ought to be like. But Will's comments about Lady Evelyn still ate at him, somehow. He did not like the notion that he had compromised her, whatever that meant, however unwillingly. Nor did he know precisely what he ought to do about it. But he ought to do something, of that he was quite certain.

Author's Note: Seriously, review!