AT WIT'S END

Lady Norrington and I are suddenly alone in the dining room as the door shuts behind James' retreating back. The anger I felt from seconds before dissipates quickly as I become aware of the fact that Lady Norrington is watching me, her eyes hawk-like. I nod at her as some kind of show of respect, and she seems to take it as such.

"Everything we'll need is in the other room. Estrella has agreed to do the pinning and sewing, so we won't have to worry about that," I say, breaking the tense silence.

I lead her into the next room, an unused sitting room of sorts and wait for her to start in on me. When she does not say anything I motion to Estrella to bring my mother's wedding gown forward. She does so, holding it up so that it does not touch the floor. Even after all these years it is still as pristinely white as how my father described it was the day he wed my mother. Lady Norrington stares at it for a full minute, and then points at me.

"Put it on," she commands.

I move behind a screen that was set up earlier, and Estrella helps me pull on the gown. I have never worn it before, and I am surprised to find that I am nearly the same size as my mother was when she was married. I step out from behind the screen and revolve slowly on the spot.

"The shoulders are a bit wide," I concede, pulling them up as one slips from my shoulder, "and these bows on the front will have to go of course. Estrella could do a lovely embroidered pattern in their stead of flowers or-"

"No."

I stop speaking, my smile fading as I catch sight of Lady Norrington's stern gaze.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said no," the Lady says again, and she waves her hands at my dress as though it were some more offensive article of clothing, "It's much too old, and there's far too much work to be done on it. In my opinion you'd have to refit the entire gown to achieve a more modern style. That one is from twenty or thirty years ago now. I haven't seen a stomacher like that in ages. It's horrendous."

"It doesn't matter how modern it is," I contend, heat rising in my cheeks, "No one terribly important is going to see it, and I'm only going to wear it for one day."

"I will not have my son's wedding ruined by your lack of fashion sense," Lady Norrington says shrilly, "If I have to pay for someone to make you a new dress then I will."

"God woman, you're being ridiculous," I cry, "This is my mother's dress, and I'm going to wear it. There's nothing you can do to stop me!"

"Ridiculous am I?" she asks, and now her voice has become very cold, "You're the one who wants to wear her dead mother's wedding dress."

I step back, stung. Lady Norrington seems to understand that she has struck a cord within me, and she continues in a low, menacing voice. Estrella looks on in utter bewilderment.

"Yes, you're mother is dead. You said so your self, didn't you? As such, as soon as you marry my son I will be as good as your mother, and you will listen to me. Take the dress off and hand it over."

I stand rooted to the spot, hot tears burning the backs of my eyes.

"What are you going to do with it?" I ask quietly, balling my hands into fists. I will not give up without a fight.

"Burn it of course. That's the only way you can deal with these types of things."

"You monster," Estrella says, her voice shaking with rage.

Lady Norrington shoots her a fierce, burning look.

"You can leave now," she says, "We no longer require your service."

Estrella looks to me then, and I plead with her silently, willing her to stay. For a moment she remains rooted to the floor, and then when the Lady takes a step toward her she moves quickly toward the door and disappears around the corner. Lady Norrington turns back to me then, and suddenly I know what it feels like to be a trapped animal with no hope of escape.

There is a brief pause, and then several things happen at once. Just as I make a bolt for the door Lady Norrington leaps toward me with a snarl grasping the cloth of the dress in her hands. For a moment we wrestle with one another as I attempt to pry her hands from me. It does not take long for her to realise that I am stronger than she, but in that instant I am able to throw her hands away and run for the door. She swears loudly and follows close behind. I am fast though, and in mere seconds I pass by the open door to the sitting room. Inside I can hear Estrella sobbing, and my Father's face appears around the doorway.

"Elizabeth, what on earth-?"

I keep running though, all the way up to my room where I shut and lock the door behind me. Chest heaving I lean against the door and slide down till I am sitting on the floor with my back against it. I curl my legs toward my chest and close my eyes, breathing deeply to keep sobs from rising in my throat. It is not long before I hear footsteps in the corridor outside. Someone tries the door handle, but it is no use.

"Elizabeth, will you come out?"

It is my father's voice, vexed and concerned.

"No," I reply simply, my voice straining.

"Estrella told us what happened. James and his mother have left. He said he would talk to her."

"I don't care."

There is a beat of silence.

"Since you do not seem fond of my company, would you mind if I sent Estrella up?"

"No."

I listen as his footsteps fade away and are replaced moments later by lighter ones that can hardly be heard on the carpeted floor. I unlock the door, and Estrella enters. Her face is blotchy and tear stained despite her efforts to wipe the tears away. She gives me a small smile, but says nothing, and I am grateful for her silence. She helps me out of my mother's wedding gown and hangs it in the wardrobe.

"Don't forget about Mr. Turner," she says quietly, almost as an afterthought, as she makes her way toward the door, "He should be here soon."

I nod and pull on my nightgown, feeling utterly spent. I had not realised just how dark the room had become until I lit a candle and placed it on my bedside table. I pull back one of the curtains over the window and the last rays of today's sun spill into the room giving me enough light to scan the darkness down below. Just as the golden orb of the sun falls over the horizon and out of sight I see a flurry of movement in the gloom. I blink, thinking at first that I have imagined it, and then William appears out of the foliage and right under my bedroom window. He sees me standing there, waiting for him, and smiles.

I open the window, pushing it outward, and call softly down to him, "William."

"Elizabeth."

His voice sends a shiver up my spine.

"Am I going with you, or are you coming up here?" I ask as quietly as I can.

"I could climb up," he responds, "but only if you want me to."

"Yes, of course," I breathe.

Hastily I run to my bed and strip the coverlet off so that I can lower the sheet down to him as a rope. I bolster it on the leg of the wardrobe and watch as William scales the wall to my open window. At this moment I do not care what Estrella says, seeing Will like this is like something out of Rapunzel or Romeo and Juliet. As soon as he pulls himself over the sill he tumbles into my waiting arms, and I breathe a sigh of deep relief. I do not need to worry anymore. In moments all will become clear.

We step apart reluctantly, and for a moment I allow Will to simply stand there and soak in the new environment as I lean outward into the darkness to close the window with a snap. Will seems startled by the sound as I turn back toward him. The candle on the bedside table gutters briefly but holds. Suddenly I realise just how out of place he looks amongst the lace and pastel upholstery. Even in the wane light I can tell that he did not have time to change between working and coming to see me as he still wears his dark work trousers and a loose white shirt with his hair pulled back and out of the way.

"How is everything here?" he asks, a bitter tinge in his voice the only sign that he is referring to wedding preparations and not something else.

I go to him, wrapping his arms around me so that I can lean my head against his shoulder.

"Not well," I say quietly, "His mother is a witch. I've had to endure her insults again and again without respite."

Will remains silent, brooding, and I look up at him, our lips mere centimetres from each other.

"She insulted my mother, Will."

His arms tighten around me, but his voice is calm when he speaks.

"You will not have to suffer such indignities much longer," he says, and my eyes widen.

"Do you mean-? You said in your letter-"

"I have secured passage aboard a cargo ship going to the colonies. I talked to the captain myself, and as long as I agree to work for him until we make port he has agreed to take us as far north as we please."

"Oh Will!" I exclaim in an excited exhalation of breath, "That's wonderful! When can we leave?"

He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear and rests his forehead against mine.

"We have a full month to wait while they stock up on supplies, but then," and here his voice is an excited whisper, "we can leave, and as soon as we make landfall I will take you to the nearest church and marry you."

"Or the captain can marry us on the ship," I suggest seriously, and Will seems to pause for a moment pondering my suggestion.

"Yes, whatever you wish," he says finally, and he is so close to me that I can see the earnest flecks of amber and gold in his brown eyes.

"Mrs. Turner," I whisper, and I close the space between us, pressing the name against his lips.

When I pull away it is not for long. Immediately he kisses me again, playfully, smiling against my lips. I press my body against him, and he gives a sharp intake of breath, breaking the contact between us. His eyes search mine, a look of both questioning and longing wrestling within them, but there is nothing to be said between us. Not now, not when we are on the very precipice of our life together.

Deftly he pulls my nightgown over my head, and though I can feel a blush traveling up my body and lodging in my cheeks, Will does not seem to notice as he trails kisses from my jaw to my neck and downward. My arms surround him, embracing him, pulling him toward me between fervent sighs of desire.

A clock somewhere within the house chimes, and we stand frozen for a moment, the heat between us almost tangible. As the ringing bells fade away all becomes silent again except for the beating of our hearts, the blood rushing in our heads, and the soft caress of whispers in a darkened room. My bed is suddenly behind me, and as I fumble with Will's trousers we fall into it, tumbling into a tangle of limbs and unadulterated desire.

It is still dark when I awaken some time later. Will is no longer sleeping peacefully beside me but has left, as I expected he would. I feel a pang of disappointment nonetheless as I stretch out an arm across the space where his body lay next to mine. A draft of cool air sweeps through the room from the window ruffling the bed sheets. I shift uncomfortably underneath them, feeling sore in places I had not expected. Somehow the bed feels cramped now that Will is gone, so I swing my legs gingerly over the side and gather my nightgown from its place on the floor. Pulling it on over my head, I pad across the room to shut the window. I pull the curtain over it, and then lie back down on the bed and pull the covers over me.

My eyes remain open, staring upward at the canopy of cloth above me. Images from only hours earlier replay themselves in my minds eye, and no matter what exultant emotions they give me I cannot help feeling as though there is something missing from me now that cannot be gained again. Suddenly I think of James and my heart gives a twinge of guilt for what has transpired between Will and I considering the promise I said I would keep.

I turn over on my side mulling these ideas over in my head and trying to decide just how I feel about this situation. My promise to James should not matter, I reason, because Will and I will be married soon anyway. An engagement is in no way equal to marriage, is it? I chew at my bottom lip, a knot forming in the pit of my stomach. Despite the bond created between Will and I this night I cannot help feeling as though I have done something wrong. I cannot help feeling as though I have stolen from James what is rightfully his.

Authoress' Note: Two comments: 1) Mm, oh no Elizabeth didn't! 2) Lady Norrington is quite possible the most ludicrous and ridiculous character I've ever written. What a stupid woman! I apologise for the squicky-ness at the end of the chapter, by the way. I try to make those sorts of scenes as painless as possible for everyone, but sex is inevitable in life . . . I do my best, I suppose. :)