A/N: Hello and welcome back! I would like to thank: dionne dance, TinkerbellxO, Makrciana, MissMisc3, XantheXV, xBelekinax and justsukiya. Thank you all for the great comments and support. Can we reach 100 reviews with this chap? We'll see…

Disclaimer: I do not own the Libertine.

Chapter 12

I'll follow thee and make a heaven out of hell,

To die by your hand which I love so well.

~A Midsummer Night's Dream

Her breakfast plate was full with bread and fruits, but she could not eat. She was too conscious of Lady Anne's presence across from her. Her gaze fell on the pot of honey next to her teacup and she nearly gulped. Her stomach growled, contradicting her brain and she almost sighed. Her fingers twitched and when the woman gave her another severe glance, she decided it was not the time to act like a coward.

Reaching out, she gently grasped the piece of bread and tried to keep her mind on the man still sleeping in her new room, in her bed. Tearing a part of the freshly baked bread, still warm from the fire, she popped it in her mouth and shifted in her seat, rethinking her decision not to wake him up when she left the room.

"Eat up, child. You're only skin and bones." The Countess' words drilled into her head and she actually flushed. She knew what she was. Looking down, she spotted her collarbones protruding from the neckline of her dress and the heat on her face deepened.

Shifting awkwardly, she tore another piece of bread.

Lady Anne clicked her tongue and shook her head. "I suppose my son is still sleeping?"

Elizabeth froze and nearly dropped her fork. Eyes widening minutely, she looked up. The Earl's mother wore a bemused expression on her face, her lips were tight, pronouncing her sharp, almost statuesque features.

"I beg your pardon?" Elizabeth whispered and Lady Anne would have rolled her eyes if her breeding had allowed her to do so. Instead, she held the younger woman's gaze with her own, her pale fingers gently wrapped around her cup of tea.

"I shall advise you one thing, child. Never take me for a fool."

"I would never-…"

"I have no interest to know what my son does with you as long as it doesn't ridicule our name in society."

Elizabeth's mouth went dry.

"I am willing to overlook last night's incident, for I know that you are a firm supporter of propriety." Lady Anne cocked an eyebrow, "Take care not to let my son ruin your reputation before your marriage."

Not finding an appropriate answer, Elizabeth remained silent.

"You are aware that men are creatures of inconstancy, no?"

At those words, her head snapped up. "I'm sorry?"

The Countess' features were more relaxed this time. "Men, my child."

"Yes…"

Lady Anne smiled. "Men are loveless creatures. They cannot experience true sentiment. You know why?"

Elizabeth numbly shook her head.

"Because since their crib, all they've ever learned is to receive affection. They never give. They only expect. They take everything for granted. Any kind of love is incomprehensible to them because they've been bred to be that way."

Elizabeth briefly averted her eyes. "You think they are raised like that…"

Nodding her head, Lady Anne leaned forward. "Men desire, women nurture. In the end wives turn to coddle and care for their husbands as they care for their child."

Elizabeth smiled a little. "And that is a bad thing?"

"Yes. Because when the desire is gone, betrayal comes." Leaning forward she pursed her lips, "And that, my child, is the end of the fairy tale. Moderation is everything." She rested back in her chair, "Not to mention that it saves people from awkward conversations like this."

Elizabeth's stomach twisted into a tight knot and she ducked her head, but she couldn't stop the next words from tumbling out of her mouth.

"I beg your pardon, my Lady, but you must be aware of your son's character." She looked up, locking her gaze with the older woman's. "You cannot say no to him." Raising her chin a little, she gave an elegant shrug of her thin shoulders, "It is not so much unlike to trying to reason with a child."

Her bold words brought a faint pink color on Lady Anne's cheeks and Elizabeth felt a tinge of satisfaction.

"Then perhaps, you must re-evaluate your own personal preferences." The Countess' words were cutting.

"And perhaps you should reconsider your way of handling your son. He is no longer in baby attire."

Lady Anne inhaled sharply and opened her mouth to speak, but she was cut off.

"My, my. Am I the object of discussion?" John's voice echoed in the large room as he walked in, looking groggy, "Again?" he added in a shocked, but fake little whisper.

Elizabeth went even pinker while his mother raised her eyes to glare up at him.

"Do you know what time it is?" His mother spoke harshly, obviously angered that she had been preached by a woman thrice her age.

He smirked at her, ran a hand through his sleep ruffled hair and walked around the large table to seat himself at the head of it. He hauled the chair noisily back before he sat down. Without hesitation, he reached out with his right hand and grabbed Elizabeth's chair. He pulled her closer and pushed the pot of tea towards her. With a single look, he grabbed her teacup and threw the now cold liquid in the hearth behind him.

His mother flinched at his careless action, but watched like a hawk as Elizabeth filled a cup for him and then refilled her own.

"I suppose it is time to break the fast, no?" He leaned back and crossed his legs before he reached out for his tea. He stared at his mother while taking a sip and Elizabeth nearly sighed with relief.

The animosity between mother and son was palpable in the atmosphere and when John proceeded to ignore the Countess, Elizabeth held her breath.

"You didn't announce your arrival."

The Earl's lips twitched. "Announce my arrival to my own house. Don't be absurd, mother."

"It is a sign of respect. I'd have made arrangements-…"

"Oh yes. Indeed. Where were you planning on hiding her? The cellar?" His eyes were large and dark as he gazed at the older woman, his hair brushing his cheeks as he didn't bother pushing it back from his face.

Lady Anne's skin flushed with anger. "Now you're being ridiculous."

Abruptly, he stood up. "My appetite has withered. I was told that you would redecorate your bedchamber. Come." He thrust his hand out, palm open in invitation, "I have some spectacular ideas." His eyes were twinkling and Elizabeth found herself drawn to that light in his eyes.

Placing her hand in his, she allowed him to pull her from the seat. He didn't look back as they made their way out of the room.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The bed was still unmade and his coat and waistcoat were still scattered to the floor when they entered the chamber. The windows were wide open and the chilly breeze gave a fresh aura to the room.

The sky was overcast, but as Elizabeth walked towards the window overlooking the grounds of the estate she could see that the clouds' shadow was casting a darker shade of green on the scenery. It was beautiful. A dog barked in the distance and when the door closed behind her, she didn't even flinch.

His footsteps were rapid as he followed her and finally joined her by the window.

Hands on her shoulders caused her to shiver and a cool nose brushed her neck.

"I woke up alone. I wasn't aware that my mother was holding you prisoner. I'd have come sooner if I knew." Lips touched the side of her neck and she shivered, "It's been so long since the last time I saw you…"

She frowned a little when she felt his smile against her skin.

"Did you miss me at all?" His words were raspy.

A chuckle escaped her and she felt his lips turning down at the sound.

"Am I amusing you?"

Shaking her head, she allowed her fingers to touch the hand that was now covering her belly.

"I thought last night was sufficient enough. I thought your homesickness was cured."

"My mother will turn you into a cynic." He stated dryly and Elizabeth finally tore her gaze from the land beyond the window.

Turning around, she found herself pressed against the window's ledge. The cold surface was digging into her lower back.

"I suppose in the same way she turned you into one?" She dared to cock an eyebrow and his features didn't turn ugly or twisted. In fact, his lips curved and were pulled back to reveal his straight, white teeth.

It wasn't really a smile. It was more of a smirk, but it didn't matter. It didn't, because that mouth was coming towards her. His lips touched hers firmly, his body pushing her harder against the ledge until she groaned from the pain.

His palm found its way to her back, sliding down until it was cushioning it snugly. His tongue slipped in between her lips only to withdraw quickly.

He pulled back, taking his time in opening his eyes.

She blinked rapidly and when her gaze was focused enough, she pulled her head back in an effort to put some distance between them.

"I heard Lord Sheffield called." His breath fell hot on her cheek as he spoke and she furrowed her brow in confusion.

"Beg pardon?"

He sneered. "I heard he paid a visit to your father's estate while I was gone. You failed to mention that."

She narrowed her eyes. "Like you failed to mention your group trysts with the King?"

He released her and laughed, his eyes shining. "Now that is more like it."

"I'm sorry?" Her eyes widened, "You enjoy provoking me?"

"Indeed."

She was puzzled. "Why?"

"Because I know you will speak your mind." He turned away from her and picked up his discarded waistcoat. She watched him putting it on with a lost expression.

"That pleases you?"

"Hmm?" He looked at her from over his embroidered shoulder.

She pushed away from the window. "My talking back. Does it please you?"

He picked his walking stick up from the ground and leaning against it he whirled around to face her.

"Dear heart, if I wanted a placid, submissive and inane woman for a wife, I wouldn't look for one in the Malet house…" He wore that smirk again and she flushed.

"Now that…"

"Is absolutely and undoubtedly true." He finished with a wave of his hand. She was fascinated by the way his curly hair bounced as he moved and she quickly averted her eyes.

"I shall take that as a compliment, my Lord."

"Hardly ever an occasion for me so I'd be insulted if you didn't…" he murmured and she cleared her throat.

"I wouldn't dare insulting you. They say your affection is easily lost when angered." She muttered and his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Vicious rumor." His mouth was slightly curved.

"But probably true."

"When everything changes, who am I to remain constant?"

Elizabeth's throat closed up. "I suppose you are right. That doesn't offer much consolation to me though. Desire is a fickle sentiment." She looked up. He was staring at her.

"Lack of desire could never become a problem with you." His eyes roamed her form suggestively and despite the shiver that went through her she had little trust in that instinct. Because desire was not an actual sentiment, was it?

"What about affection?"

He walked over to her. "How little faith you have in me, my love."

"You should not say that word so carelessly."

"Who are you to tell me that I speak words with lack of better judgment?"

She blinked, "I…."

"I may be the vilest of peers in this court, but I still do demand respect. I trust you're wise enough to remember that in the future." He spat the words and she was suddenly reminded of his mother's words and her own claim of his quick temper and juvenile behavior.

Biting her tongue and resisting the urge to ask him if he had ever been praised by anyone, she ducked her head. His rebellious behavior posed some questions. She briefly wondered if his desire to exceed in everything stemmed from his secretly low self esteem. The Wilmot family members were not known for their wealth. Challenging situation for a young man amongst snakes.

"My Lord."

Fingers on her chin startled her and as her head was raised she tried to remain absolutely still.

"You never said if it's true." He murmured as his thumb swept her bottom lip.

"If what is true?"

"You know what. Has the codpiece paid you a visit?" he sneered and she chuckled.

He dropped his hand from her chin and she was quick to catch his fingers in her hand.

His eyes eyed their joined hands suspiciously, but she only pulled herself closer.

"Yes, he did." She nodded her head and the corners of his lips tightened. "We must find a way to moderate your jealousy, my Lord. Especially when it is unnecessary." She released his hand and then took a look around the room. "What color shall the curtains be?" she asked, not really expecting a reply, but she was surprised when she heard his smooth voice in her ear.

"Green. It shall match your eyes." A kiss was delivered to her earlobe and despite her better judgment, she smiled.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Months later, Whitehall

A hand appeared from next to her and cupped the opening of her goblet. Startled, she turned her head only to see John regarding her with a disgusted expression.

"Don't." He used the power of his hand to push the goblet of wine back down onto the tablecloth. Elizabeth barely heard him from all the music and loud voices of the large hall.

Feeling like a child, she blinked and looked at Rochester with a frown.

"Everyone is drinking." She muttered and in retaliation he pulled her glass towards him.

"Never drink wine that is served around in this manner." He smirked and dawned the contents of her goblet in one go. He grimaced a bit at the taste and silently reached for the large wine pitcher to his right. The King's personal favorite.

The King sent him a curious glance, but did not say anything.

Elizabeth watched as he poured her some of his majesty's wine and nearly snorted when she realized that he had filled only half of it.

Pushing it towards her, he eyed her with patience.

"Now you remembered that I am too young to drink?" she asked while making no move to actually touch the goblet.

John stared at her and in a sudden movement removed the thick wig from his head. He thrust it unceremoniously on his lap and ran a hand through his curly hair.

"You shouldn't drink anyway." His voice carried an air of finality and she could only stare at him with wide eyes.

He noticed and huffed. "Stop gazing at me like an asinine owl." He muttered as he twirled his own glass around. The blood red liquid slapped the sides of the goblet noisily.

Elizabeth flushed and touched the goblet, gently pulling it towards her. She might have been mistaken but she was nearly certain that his eyes were drawn to the golden ring around her finger.

"If I were a submissive fiancée I wouldn't call you a hypocrite." She remarked and suddenly found his hand on her lap.

"I am one." He nodded his head, "I am also a man who hasn't seen you in months and it would be a terrible misfortune if you were too drunk to walk the maze with me." He murmured and she turned to look at her.

"I wouldn't dare to walk the palace's maze with you, my Lord. I wouldn't desire to be abducted again." She watched as his eyes darkened, but she was surprised by his next move. She had only been jesting for God's sake.

Standing up, he turned his attention to the King's company. "Ms. Davis." His voice nearly purred, "How about a walk outside?" He grabbed the goblet he had just poured for Elizabeth and without another look he walked away from the royal table.

Moll Davis eyed Elizabeth with a curious look before she stood up and followed the Earl out.

The King shot her an amused glance before he resumed his conversation with none other than Lord Sheffield himself.

Elizabeth wanted to disappear and her mother's disbelieving glare from down the table did not help either. Feeling utterly embarrassed and inadequate, she turned her attention to the empty seat beside her.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"My Lady!"

"Lizzie." Her mother's hand fell heavy on her arm and she paused, "Someone is calling."

Elizabeth burrowed further into her cloak as a manservant wearing the King's emblem and colors walked hurriedly towards them.

"Lady Malet?" he inquired and Elizabeth tensed up.

"Yes?"

The man took a deep breath. "I am sorry, madam, but I have orders from the King."

"The King?" Lady Hawley asked curiously, suddenly too cheery.

"Yes, madam. He has arranged quarters for you. For the night. If you could follow me, please."

"Quarters?" Elizabeth frowned, "Our carriage is waiting to take us back to the country."

"Lizzie!" Her mother admonished, "It's the King's order. Surely the man here could alert the driver of this alteration."

Elizabeth did not want to stay at Whitehall. Not after the Earl's latest temper tantrum.

"Of course, madam. Follow me, please." The manservant turned and started leading them back inside. They passed outside the noisy hall and made their way towards the noblemen's quarters that were located not too far away from the festivities.

The servant pushed open a door and waved his hand. "Lady Hawley."

Elizabeth's mother nearly dislocated her jaw. She was smiling that widely.

Elizabeth bit the inside of her cheek and started following her mother inside the chamber.

"Ms. Malet. If you'd please." He outstretched his hand towards the long corridor and she stopped short.

"How gracious of his Majesty!" Lady Hawley exclaimed and Elizabeth ignored her, "Wake up nice and early tomorrow, child. We have a long way ahead of us…"

Her voice trailed off as Elizabeth followed the man away. In a way, she was glad that she'd be alone. She wanted to go to sleep.

The servant stopped in front of a heavy oak door with a golden handle. Her brow furrowed when he knocked once before opening the door.

Curiously and slightly baffled, she timidly stepped into the room. The chamber was not too brightly illuminated as the loud swoosh of her thick dress signaled her entrance. The quarters were large with mahogany furniture. There were French doors leading to two identical balconies and the curtains were a deep crimson color. The fabric was lined with gold and it glimmered as the cloths moved with the wind. One of the doors was open.

The door closed behind her and she jumped a little.

Walking further into the chamber, she noticed the large bed. Fluffy pillows were lined up, but the covers were pushed back and the sheets were wrinkled. A chest of belongings was resting by the foot of the bed.

Frowning, she took a look at the open French doors. A shadow moved and her eyes caught sight of a golden handle.

Pausing, she noticed that a familiar object was propped up against a lush armchair; a walking stick.

She stilled and when footsteps approached from the balcony her eyes quickly roamed the chamber for an escape.

Coward. Her inner voice accused and she gritted her teeth.

His head appeared first as his hands parted the curtains. His hair was windswept and he was barefoot. The image had her reeling. He looked so different like that. He looked…way too young to be the man that he was.

His eyes locked with hers and she could see the brown of his irises swimming around the black of his pupils like a liquid pool of expensive coffee. She nearly laughed at the comparison, but it was right. He could be just as bitter and sweet at times.

"Welcome." He murmured and he seemed uncharacteristically uncomfortable, "Are you cold?" He didn't wait for her response as he turned and shut the doors, but Elizabeth was too curious to feel anything but the heat of her blush at the moment.

He pulled the curtains closed and then turned to her.

He eyed her stiff form with something akin to irritation before he moved towards her. His sudden approach startled her, but she did not show it.

"You arranged this?" she murmured, but his only response was to undo the cord that held her cloak together. It pooled around her feet with a gentle swoosh.

He raised his eyes to hers as she took a step back from him. He looked displeased at her reaction and he showed it by following her every backward footstep.

"I've arranged nothing…These are your quarters as well. Whatever is mine is yours." He forced out and she stopped walking backwards.

"I see. Thank you. The roads will be awful after such a heavy storm."

Her eyes fell on the bed and he followed her line of vision. His lips tightened only to curve upwards a moment later. He swept his hand towards the direction of the bed and watched her like a hawk as she gazed at him with mistrust.

"I know we've not seen each other for so long." His words were sudden, "You must forgive my quick temper. It is always around when you're involved." He added with a pensive yet conflicting expression.

Elizabeth decided to get rid of her uneasiness. She needed to sleep; badly.

Removing her shoes, she kept her eyes on the ground as he kept his on her small feet.

"I trust your walk was sufficient enough to cure your inner turmoil." She looked up.

"I must admit that Ms. Davis always provides most riveting company." He looked at her, "But I find myself displeased."

He placed his hands behind his back and walked towards her. His eyes trailed up and down her body twice. When his gaze had finished the second perusal of her form, he locked his eyes on a spot above her shoulder.

"Elizabeth," he started, "You need to acquire the ability to ignore me at times. I'd hate to make your life a living hell. Yet I fear that I must already be making it so." His gaze shifted to her face, "Especially when I have no plans of ever asking your forgiveness."

She swallowed thickly. "I am not God to offer absolution."

"On the contrary." His response perplexed her.

"You craft your riddles well. I am no competition for them." She took a seat on the bed and she almost sighed at the softness beneath her bottom.

His eyes followed her as her back found the mattress and wrinkled sheets underneath her.

Her hands slipped up and came to rest on the front laces of her dress. Feeling slightly constricted, she loosened them and when she was done she allowed her hands to drop by her sides on the bed.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips and he approached her. He bent his knees a little and touched her heavy skirts. She was alarmed when his hand brushed over her stocking clad calf and knee.

She shifted on the bed and he dropped his hand. He tilted his head and after a few moments of utter silence he grabbed the back of his shirt. He pulled the fabric up and her eyes fell on the generous amount of pale skin that invaded her vision when he threw the shirt on the floor.

She shivered when he placed one knee on the mattress next to her and then the other.

His hand reached out and his fingers came to cradle the sharp structure of her ribs. He frowned, his eyes narrowing at the thinness of her body, but he did not speak. Leaning down he came to loom over her. His breath smelled of wine and something else…something spicy. Mint perhaps? Or cinnamon? She was certain it was the latter.

His breath felt hot on her forehead as his mouth enveloped the skin above her left eyebrow in a kiss. He came to rest on his side, his hand curling further around her side and pulling her closer as his mouth slid to her nose. His scent was stronger when he did that.

"Lizzie…" It was a sigh.

She turned her head slightly to the side. Her cheek brushed his sheets. They smelled of musk and of something slightly bitter. Perspiration perhaps?

Reaching up, she touched his neck. His skin was hot. Her fingers slid to his forehead. The roots of his hair were slightly wet and she frowned.

"Are…you unwell?" she murmured and just like that his antics were forgotten.

His eyes expressed his confusion, but then he spoke curtly.

"It's the wine."

Groaning, he rolled onto his back and his hand fell into the space between them.

"The improvements are done. I received word from my mother." His voice was quiet.

Elizabeth's hand fell next to his on the bed. Their little fingers touched.

"Oh."

She glanced at him. His eyes were on the canopy.

"What did the Countess say?" she asked and he rolled his eyes.

"I told you what she said."

"John."

He snarled and with a fleeting look at her sat up from the bed. "The wedding's in two months." He ran a hand through his hair as he turned to look at her from over his shoulder, his gaze sharp and biting. "You think you will have enough time to reconsider till January?" He muttered before he placed his hands on the fastenings of his breeches. He loosened them as he made his way to the washroom and slammed the door shut behind him.

End of chapter 12

Author's note: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think. More comments, quicker updates...;o)

Their wedding actually took place on January 29, 1667. Also, during the last months of 1666 (particularly during the summer), Rochester was in naval service. That is the reason for the time jump in this chapter…

Comments?

Until next time!

Xxx Lina