A/N:

Hi all! I first posted this story on May 31, 2021. I accidentally deleted the story while I was trying to do an editing job. My sincerest apologies, especially to all the people who left me really kind reviews, for accidentally deleting your lovely comments! But I am reposting this story in its entirety, including the very apropos lyrics at the end of the story.


This is a one shot designed to fill in a missing scene from Episode 6 in Season 1, after Eliza lost her nerve in the kitchen earlier that evening. Better late than never for these two little lovebirds. I think William is still going to be annoyed with Eliza at breakfast later that morning, maybe even more so...or maybe he gives Eliza a little more latitude because of what's happened between them.

The gardenia is a flower that symbolizes purity and gentleness. It also is a symbol of a secret love between two people - very fitting for Eliza and William, I think. I thought Eliza should have a scent other than honeysuckle, lavender and citrus, all of which have been used in other fan fiction works - just a little something different for her and for him too. I can assure you William found her scent quite intoxicating.

In this story, a woodsman is not a hunter but rather more along the lines of a woodcutter or forester.

Thanks for reading!


After her meeting with Moses in the dining room ended, Eliza saw him out through the kitchen, then secured the back door to the house. She knew she would need to tell William about the information Moses had given her regarding Nathaniel Caine's brother, Benjamin, and that someone at Scotland Yard had warned Benjamin Caine not to pursue his missing persons inquiry on behalf of his brother any further. She did not want to have an argument with William about her meeting with Moses that evening, while he slept on the settee in her drawing room. He would be irritated with her, and since it was now 12:30 in the morning, she decided to wait to broach the subject of Moses' visit until breakfast.

Eliza climbed the stairs from the kitchen to the front hall, made certain the front door was locked and then crossed into the dining room. She peered out the front window and saw William's officers standing guard over her house. She smiled to herself when she thought of how William had paid out of his own pocket for these officers to return to keep watch over her. That William was so concerned for her safety that he had put in place other measures to safeguard her in addition to his own presence in her house was not lost on her.

She carried the chamberstick with its lit candle through the front hall, then back down the stairs to the drawing room where she had left William sleeping earlier that evening. She told herself she merely wanted to check on him one last time before turning in for the night, but as she neared the drawing room, she felt something else was pulling her back to him.

She pushed open the door, which had been slightly ajar, and then stood just inside the entrance to the room, leaning against the doorframe. William's face was shadowed in the flickering firelight from the hearth, but she could see his features, his eyes closed, his brows relaxed. He looked peaceful, his pocket watch open on his lap and his revolver drawn and resting on his lower chest. He had one leg stretched out on the settee and the other planted on the floor, ready to jump up at a moment's notice to defend and protect her, if necessary.

As she stood gazing at him while he slept, she admitted to herself that William was perhaps the most handsome man she had ever seen. She could not deny that even when they were arguing, she felt drawn to him by some inexplicable force. As a teenager, Eliza had watched William change from a freckly, lanky boy of 17, whom her father had taken on as a protege after helping him leave behind a dead-end existence as a pickpocketing street lad, into a handsome young man of 19 who had filled out nicely. That young man had made her heart race and set off butterflies in her stomach whenever they spent time together. He had kissed her tenderly when she was 16, and she remembered feeling then like her heart had exploded in her chest, sending shock waves throughout her body. It had proved too overwhelming for her to handle at the time and ended with her slapping his face.

Now 10 years later, they were slowly finding their way back to whom they had been to each other as teenagers, and for her, at least, it felt as if their friendship was righting itself at long last. She had enjoyed working on cases with William more recently, even though they had gotten off to a prickly start and it had been on his terms much of the time. He had come to find her at Woolwich Prison, however, and they had worked together not only to escape from the gaol but also to investigate her father's murder and the forgery operation. It felt good to be working as a team with William, side by side.

To her, he had become even more handsome over the last 10 years, his shoulders broader, his voice even deeper and more assured than it had been when he was 19. He was always well dressed and well groomed. He had grown a full beard, which he tended carefully and which she knew hid the scar at the bottom of his chin. His beard made him look quite distinguished. He had become every inch the respectable and accomplished detective inspector of Scotland Yard. She recognized that he, in truth, could have had any woman he wanted, and he was what might be called "a catch". It was true that William had a temper, but she knew that, despite his temper, he was an honorable man who would never physically hurt a woman.

She found it vaguely reassuring that William had not yet married. Sometimes, when she thought about him and their discussions as teenagers about what they wanted for themselves as adults, she recalled that William had spoken of wanting a family of his own, with a wife and children. He did not need much, he had told her then, to make him happy. He had just wanted to feel as if he belonged somewhere and to someone, and having a family of his own would ground him in this world. How was it then that he had not yet settled down? She hoped deep in her heart that whatever the explanation was for this lack of his own family at the age of 29, it in some way involved her.

This evening in the kitchen, Eliza had revealed how much she liked spending time with him again, commenting that they were like an old married couple, as he'd taught her how to boil eggs. His response to her about how if they were married, he assuredly would not be cooking his own eggs had jabbed at her a bit when she had let down her guard. He had then stepped close to her, shifting his stance so that he was even closer still, and gazed into her eyes with such intensity that she knew what William wanted from her. She had wanted it too and could feel something quivering deep inside her. His intensity and the desire she felt for him had unnerved her. She had not had such strong feelings for him in nearly 10 years. Those feelings had scared her then as a girl of 16, and they scared her now too. She faltered and could not hold his gaze any longer. She let the moment slip past them.

Now watching him sleep, understanding that what she felt for him was some mixture of love and desire, she was overcome by the need to touch William. She had missed her opportunity to kiss him in the kitchen; she did not want to go to bed this evening without finishing what they had almost started then.

She further entered the room, placing the chamberstick on the side table near the clock that now read 12:45. She had been leaning against the doorframe, gazing at him and working up her courage to go to him for almost 15 minutes. She drew the ottoman up close to him, nestling it between the edge of the settee and his bent leg, settling herself on it before turning her attention to William.


William first sensed that Eliza was in the room with him when he felt her slowly slide his revolver from the grasp of his right hand, then place it on the floor beside the settee after checking that the safety was on. His eyes still closed, he could hear the rustle of Eliza's skirts as she shifted back into position on the ottoman.

He then felt his pocket watch being pulled gently from between his fingers where it had rested just below his waistcoat. He heard the cover snap shut quietly and then felt Eliza tuck the watch into the left-hand pocket of his waistcoat. It slid in smoothly, but William could feel her fingers drag gently against his body as she pulled her hand out of his pocket, sending a thrill through him.

He wondered what Eliza was doing here in this room in the still of the night, as she sat quietly next to him. Should he open his eyes? He looked at her surreptitiously through his lowered lashes and saw her lovely face illuminated in the glow of the firelight.

Was she all right? Had she come to him because there was a problem related to the officers stationed outside her house? The street outside and the house itself were quiet though, except for the ticking of the clock in the room and the crackling of the fire in the hearth. As he continued to peek at her through his eyelashes, he saw a calmness in her face which quickly dispelled any notion that there had been an issue prompting her visit. Evidently, Eliza had come here at this late hour solely to be with him.

In that moment, William decided to close his eyes again and wait for what she would do. When they had been in the kitchen earlier that evening discussing what might have been their life together as an old married couple, he had stood very close to her and unabashedly shown her how much he wanted to kiss her. His desire for her emanated from every cell in his body, rolling off him in waves and the rawness of it had been too much for her. She had been flustered by it and turned away, but he thought he glimpsed in her eyes the same desire for him, as he had for her.

William waited for her to make her move. In his mind, she was like a fawn in the forest, tentatively venturing out into the open, and he, as the woodsman, needed to remain still and silent, kneeling at the forest's edge, patiently waiting for her to feel safe coming to him.

He felt her gently touch his face, her fingers lightly tracing the curve of his eyebrows. Her fingers then slowly drifted down his temple to his cheek, where she ran her fingertips through his beard. It was the gentlest of touches, but it sent a frisson of excitement through him. She had never before touched his face, let alone run her fingers through his beard, and he found it both sensual and arousing. He was not sure how much longer he could remain in this quiet, still state, only allowing himself to sense what her fingers were doing as they slowly explored the contours of his face.

She delicately traced the outline of his lips with her fingers, first his top lip and then the lower one, hovering over the space where his lips came together. He felt her lean forward and bring her face close to his. He could smell the heady scent of gardenias, which had always been her scent, as she neared his mouth. He half-expected her to kiss his lips, in fact wanted her to kiss his lips, as he had hoped would happen earlier that night in the kitchen. Instead he felt her lips just next to his own, at the edge of his mouth, over his beard. She held her soft, warm lips there for a long moment in one of the gentlest kisses he had ever experienced.

During their 10 years apart, William had been with other women, and as Eliza had accused him, he had known quite a few. But none of them had ever stirred the feelings in him that Eliza had done. When he was with these other women, his heart had never been open to them as it had been with her, and afterward, he could only think of the 16 year old girl, whose kiss had excited him as a teenager beyond what he had ever felt before in his life and left him breathless. The memory of their kiss when they were 16 and 19 still churned deep inside him. Eliza - and her kiss- had ruined him for all other women. He had remained unmarried, telling himself that he did not have time for relationships as he worked his way up the ladder at Scotland Yard as a detective inspector. The fact of it was, however, he wanted only her.

With Eliza's lips still pressed to his cheek, just at the side of his mouth, William could not keep his eyes closed any longer. He needed to see her, to look into her eyes and find what it was that she wanted from him.

As she lifted her head slowly from having kissed him, his eyes met hers. He had expected them to show fear, Eliza becoming startled that he was now awake and so very close to her. Her eyes were steady and clear, however, and if he had to guess, there was also a dare in them to see what he would do after she had kissed him so close to his mouth. Was she toying with him? Or did she want him to finally kiss her? As she gazed back at him, her eyes sparkling in the light of the fire, William knew he would give her almost anything she asked of him.

He moved his hand up to her face, gently cupping her cheek with his palm, feeling her nestle her face into it. Her dove white skin was soft and smooth, as he gently rubbed his thumb across her cheek. His eyes searched hers for a sign that she did not want his kiss, but he could find none. She had come to him this evening wanting at least that from him.

His eyes moved down to her lips, which she then nervously licked with the tip of her tongue. Did she even know what that small, seemingly innocent gesture was doing to him? His eyes lifted back to hers, and he slowly pulled her face close to his. He paused, giving her one last chance to escape and then tenderly whispered her name, "Eliza" just before he brought her lips down to his.

When their lips met, a white hot spark was ignited between them, just as had happened when they kissed as teenagers. This time, however, they both felt it more intensely after so many years of longing between them. He moved his lips against hers, feeling hers quickly respond to his kiss. Her lips captured his in return, at first shyly and then more urgently, their kiss deepening the more they moved their lips together in tandem. He wanted to kiss her like this forever and have her kiss him in return. As he felt her lips caressing his, he could see himself standing with her, holding her hand and wading into the shallows off the shore in Ayr, a place he had long ago called home when he had been a young boy. With her now in this room, as William kissed her deeply and passionately, Eliza felt like home to him.

He felt her place both of her hands on his chest, then press herself closer to him, curling her fingers into his waistcoat. He felt wave after wave of desire course through him as she then tugged on the lapels of his waistcoat to bring him closer to her still. He burned for her more than he had ever imagined he could, and he knew that if he didn't pull back soon, he would not be able to stop himself from wanting more from her.

He opened his mouth to protest the teasing and tasting her lips were doing to his, but all that escaped from him was a throaty groan of desire, desire for her that had been pent up in him for more than 10 years. With his groan, his lips parted, and Eliza slipped her tongue into his mouth, hungrily exploring the softness within, sliding her tongue against his. He could feel her desire for him building, as she whimpered and gave a shudder when his own tongue savored and searched her mouth in return. He traced the outline of her lips with his tongue and heard a soft moan escape her. Emboldened by her response to him, he returned to moving his tongue against hers in her mouth, their kiss deepening even more. He kept his mouth on hers, knowing that if he strayed with his kisses to the pulse point in her neck and heard her breath catch in her throat, he would be lost. Her kisses were arousing him almost to his breaking point, when he would want to ask her for more than just kisses.

His left hand still on her cheek, he laced the fingertips of his bandaged hand into her hair. He wanted to let her hair down and run his fingers through it, but he stopped at the nape of her neck. He wanted to wrap his arms tightly around her, then pull her fully onto the settee with him and pin her beneath him, so that he could press his heart even closer to hers and let her feel the full weight of his desire for her. But he knew if he did that, Eliza would get spooked, and their kiss would end. He did not want her to be frightened, so he stayed lying down on the settee and let her guide where they went.

He felt her drag her teeth along his lower lip, then gently bite down on it. He curved his lips up into a smile, as they pressed firmly against hers. Where had she learned how to do that, he wondered and hoped that it was from when he had done it to her lips when they kissed as teenagers. Eliza paused, and he opened his eyes. He saw her look at his lips and then at him, as if her eyes were asking whether it had been too much for him that she had bitten his lip.

He told himself that he had to stop before things went further than she wanted. He kissed her tenderly on her lips, then traced a kiss to her cheek and then to her forehead before slowly pulling her head down next to his chest, toward his beating heart. Her head resting on his chest, he rubbed her cheek gently and remained quiet for a long moment. He wanted her to feel his warmth and know that he in no way was pulling away from her or her kiss, but they were stopping so nothing would happen that she did not want. They were, after all, alone together in her house at night, unmarried, in fact, not even courting or engaged.

After a moment, he lifted her head again and kissed her forehead. He peered into her eyes to read her thoughts, concerned about what he might see there, but Eliza's lovely blue eyes were clear and calm. There was no fear or regret in them.

He kissed her forehead one last time, then softly said, "Goodnight, Eliza."

"Goodnight, William." She smiled at him and gently stroked his cheek, running her fingers through his beard slowly before standing up from the ottoman. Did she know that this one caress with her fingers drove him nearly mad with desire for her?

Giving him a lingering look, Eliza lifted the chamberstick from the side table, the candle having burned low, and turned to leave the room. At the door, she stopped to glance at William, her eyes still full of her desire for him. She opened the door and left the room, closing the door behind her.

William, overwhelmed by the intensity of his longing for her, gave a deep sigh. He doubted very much that he would be able to get any sleep at all for the rest of the night.

He wondered whether she would be able to sleep tonight. He imagined both of them lying in their own space, staring at the ceiling for hours, envisioning what might have happened between them had they not stopped themselves.

God, how he loved her. She exasperated him sometimes beyond what he could handle, and he suspected that he did the same to her. But she had come to him this evening on her own and had gifted him the most sensual kisses he had ever shared with a woman. She was the only woman he had ever truly loved or would love, and he loved her now more than he could ever say.


Up in her bedroom, as she was brushing her hair, having changed into her nightgown and pulled down the bed covers, Eliza looked at herself closely in the mirror. She could still see the flush in her cheeks from kissing William so tenderly. She had felt his beard on her face as they kissed, and her chin was still tingling from where it had rubbed against her skin. She found the sensation pleasurable, almost like a constant reminder of the deep kisses she and William had shared. She touched her lips gently with her fingertips, feeling how sensitive and swollen they had become from his kisses, and remembered the warmth and pressure of his lips moving against hers. She smiled coyly when she recalled the initial shock in William's eyes as she had bitten his lower lip. He had taught her that move when they had kissed as teenagers. Wasn't turnabout fair play then?

Eliza could feel her heart still racing in her chest. She felt a thrill run through her when she recalled what it had felt like to give in to her desire for William. He had ignited deep feelings in her that she had not ever experienced, even when she was a girl of 16 and had kissed him for the first time. She felt a throbbing deep within her still, as if her body ached for William's touch and kisses. She realized then that what she was feeling was raw desire for him, welling up inside of her, and she burned for him just as deeply as she could sense him burning for her.

These stirrings within her almost threatened to overtake her, except she knew that she would be safe with William. He had shown her he could be trusted with her heart and body that evening by being a perfect gentleman. He had respected her and not pushed her farther than she was willing to go, even though she knew they each had wanted more from the other. William had held her close and gently slowed down their coming together. She loved him for that and for so many other reasons. She knew that there was still so much to figure out between them if they were going to be together, but she recognized that she wanted to be with him, more than she ever could have imagined. She hoped one day in the not too distant future, when she felt ready, she would be able to tell William Wellington just how much she had always loved him and always would.


When I wrote this story, there was one song that played on a loop in my head. It was The Waiting, and I almost think it could be an anthem for William. The second verse (ironically, since it is their second kiss) is the most relevant to William, but the first one also applies to him too:

Well, yeah, I might have chased a couple women around.

All it ever got me was down.

Yeah, then there were those that made me feel good,

But never as good as I feel right now.

Baby, you're the only one that's ever known how to make me want to live like I want to live now.

The waiting is the hardest part.