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Chapter Two: Tom and Elizabeth

Warning: Gets a little steamy and there's also some violence.

The gray, misty light of predawn was spread over the valley in a tangible way. It smelled and tasted of rich, clean dirt and felt chill and clammy to the skin. The light was strange, yet friendly, a forerunner of another summer day and several birds were already singing their greetings in the trees, while others dived and paddled about in the gentle parts of the river, looking for an early breakfast among the mud and reeds.

Inside the groundskeeper's cabin, Tom Logan was moaning over a hangover, as he stumbled about, looking for a cleaner shirt, his hat and some previously unnoticed scrap of food.

He nearly fell over Victor, sleeping in his usual place on the floor beside the stove. "Damn it Boy!" growled Tom, giving the groggy teenager an impatient kick in the back. "Didn't ah tell yeh to get up? We got work te do."

With a sigh, Victor sat up, scowling, as his father stumbled on and found his hat under a pile of old fur blankets. "Yeh kept me up all night with yer damn snoring," muttered Victor, kicking off his blankets.

"What's that?" asked Tom, looking up, as he pulled down his hat then he frowned angrily when he saw Victor still of the floor. "Damn it Boy! I said get up!" Viscously, he grabbed up the stick left of the floor and threw it at his son.

Victor ducked and it landed under the cot. Hurriedly, Victor stood up, before his father could grab something else. "I'm getting up!" he said, as he grabbed his coat and began pulling it on, "Howlett still making a big deal over them bones we found?" he asked.

"Hell yeah," growled Tom, "Should'a left them te rot rather than let the son of a bitch make and archaeo-what's'its find out'a them! Now some fancy son of a bitch's ass is coming all the way from New York te look at 'em and the grounds gott'a be prefect." He fell into muttered curses, before saying, "That'll be yer job. We need food, so I'm go'na to spend the day hunting an checking my traps up in the mountain." He pointed a dirty figure at his son, "Them hedges better be trimmed smooth as water by the time I get back, and the fence needs paint and repairs 'round the bull-pin. Oh an' the fruits in the apple 'n cranberry orchards are starting to color, so yeh keep them damn birds out. Yeh hear?"

Victor sighed and put on his own old, black hat.

"Ah said do you hear me Boy!" growled Tom.

"Yes Sir," complied Victor and stuck his long-nailed hands into his pockets.

Tom nodded in satisfaction and grabbed his gun, before opening the door wide, only to gasp at the sight of the person standing just outside.

"'Lo Tom," said the meek voice of the woman under the porch eves. Her red hair was pinned up, but a few ringlets still fell charmingly over her face. Her dark eyes glanced from Tom to the inside of the messy cabin, where Victor was staring with his fanged mouth wide open. "I was about to knock," she said and straightened some wrinkles out of her fine cornflower-blue dress.

"Elizabeth," gasped Tom, still looking shocked. Behind him, Victor walked up, looking out into the gray morning and the lady of the manor standing there on the porch. His face was still stuck in a disbelieving expression.

Slightly ashamed, Elizabeth looked down. "Tom I need to talk to you," she said firmly, "Can we… I thought maybe we could go on a walk, or something."

"Uhm… certainly," answered Tom then glared down at Victor. "Shut yer mouth, Boy," he hissed and roughly grabbed Victor's coat, "Get to work!" he shoved him away then leaned his gun against a cabin wall. "Sorry if my boy makes yeh nervous. He's got problems, I can't cure him of."

"Hrm," Elizabeth hugged her shoulders and glanced warily over at the boy, now making his way hesitantly toward the manor, and then back at Tom. "I'm sorry Tom," she said.

Tom snorted derisively and didn't look at her, "Sorry 'bout what?" he asked bitterly.

Elizabeth sighed, "Why don't we talk while we walk," she suggested, "I saw a flower I never seen 'fore in the forest. Betcha you can tell me what it is though," she gave an encouraging smile. "You always did know everything there is to know 'bout wild things. Let me show you." She held out a hand.

Still glowering some, Tom hesitantly took her hand and then couldn't help but smile slightly, as her smile brighten into a girlish laugh that'd once been so familiar to his ears. He let her lead him into the forest.

"Oh Tom," breathed Elizabeth excitedly. "It's been too long since you and I walked out here. Remember when we were kids? We must of climbed ever tree and run down every hill in this valley!" she laughed again and swung his hand, still holding it tight in hers.

"Lizzy, what are yeh sorry about?" demanded Tom, dragging his feet to a stop and looking at her.

Elizabeth averted her gaze and looked down at his hand in hers, "I like you calling me Lizzy," she said in a soft, charming voice and tried to walk on, but Tom jerked her back.

"What is it yeh want to say?" he demanded.

Elizabeth took a deep breath, "Oh Tom," she said, suddenly sounding tearful, "I just can't keep doing this! Living like this, with him." She threw herself into him, holding him tight and pressing her wet cheek against his chest. "I know I said I didn't love you anymore, but I do, Tom! I do!"

A strained look filled Tom's bearded face, and he carefully stepped back, pulling her arms off him and looking grimly down at her teary eyes. "What yeh saying Lizzy?" he asked, "You left me. Left me to marry Howlett. And even though afterwards we…" he hesitated, turning a little red, "Well lets just say yeh left me fer him a second time. Even ah know not to touch a hot stove fer'a third time."

Elizabeth sniffed. If she'd been a little younger, she would have been the picture of mournful regret. As it was, some of her practiced charm was starting to slip away with age. "You don't understand Tom," she said, "You don't have to live with him," she pushed out of his grip and into the cradle of his arms again.

"What'd yeh mean? He loves yeh don't he?" Tom hesitated and bit his lip, looking down at her head. "He aint hitting yeh o' nothing is he?"

Elizabeth shook her head and sniffed, "No, nothing like that Tom. He aint like you. That's the problem." She stepped back, still holding his coat with both hands and looking up at his face, her dark eyes a mixture of wild hope and desperation. "He aint like you. He sits in his study all day, like he's still in England. Reads books, writes letters, has important friends. He's so educated and civilized, but he don't know nothing Tom. Nothing 'bout me. Nothing 'bout the world right outside his window! He cares for me, calls me "My Dear," stands up when I come in the room, but he don't know me Tom. I feel so trapped!" She took a sobbing breath and buried her face in his shoulder. "I want to be free again! Free of hedges and table manners. Free of Mrs. Howlett!"

Taking a deep, resigned breath, Tom held her, letting her cry into his shoulder a while, before gently picking her up and carrying her down toward the river. The sun had come up now and bright yellow rays streamed down through the summer foliage, making everything seem to shine with emerald and gold. Tom stopped among the roots of and old oak tree that was growing on the edge of a slow bend in the river. The water was smooth and deep and wild geese and swans were swimming under the blue shadow of the tree, making soft noises, as they searched for food.

Carefully, Tom set Elizabeth down, at the base of the tree, where fresh green grass was growing and small white lilies bloomed wild beside the riverbank. She kept her hands behind his neck, keeping him close as he slowly began to unbutton her dress.

"I'm sorry Tom," she whispered, "Sorry that I ever married him. I loved you. You know I loved you. I loved you deeper than the mountain roots. It killed me Tom. It killed me to leave you."

Tom glared at her face, "Yeh killed us both Lizzy," he growled, "Kill everything we were and everything we could have been."

She looked down, "Can you forgive me?" she asked softly.

"No!" answered Tom angrily, and pulled the bodice of her dress open, before viscously kissing her.

She wrapped her arms tight around his neck, as if she never wanted the kiss to end. It was a long time, before they broke apart, panting for air. "Tom!" she sobbed, "Please Tom, I…"

He hesitated, blinked then suddenly slapped her and pushed her roughly against the tree. "Why yeh doing this Lizzy?" he demanded, "Yeh won't ever leave him, will you? So yeh rich boy bores you. Yeh think yeh can run back into my arms fer a day? Do yeh enjoy ripping my heart out? Playing yur little game in the forest, 'fore skipping back to yur china dishes and silk sheets?"

"Tom I…"

This time it was the back of his fist that smacked her across her mouth, leaving it bloody, as he shoved her roughly down and stood up. "We have nothing anymore Elizabeth!" he yelled. "Yeh murdered it all! Now yur no more than a deceiving snake te me!"

Viciously, he bent down and grabbed her by her red hair, before pulling her up and throwing her from him back toward the manor hedges. "Go back to yer husband, Whore, and let the dead be!"

Sobbing, Elizabeth struggled up, pulling her dress back around her and pushing her hair from her face. "It's not true Tom!" she cried, "It's not true! There is something that's still between us!"

"I said GO!" raged Tom, pointing toward the hedge and stepping aggressively forward, his face going bright red.

"We have a son!" Elizabeth shouted over his loud temper. "Tom, we share a son!"

"I said- What?" Tom's looked at her in surprise, red rage fading to confusion.

"What de hell are yeh talking 'bout? What son? The only son ah have is…"

"James," interrupted Elizabeth, getting up, tossing her head and wiping blood from her mouth in an attempt to regain some of her cocky dignity. "He's not John's, he's yours Tom."

AN: Please review and tell me what you think!