Chapter 15
London, 1820…
"Overwhelmed?" Jason asked, tipping his head towards Elizabeth as they stepped into the third study of the house, which was clearly the one that he intended to use.
She nodded wearily, still trying to sort out which part of the house her room resided in and how close she was to Jason just in case she managed to get lost. It was somewhere between the second and ninth bedroom, just beyond the second study, and…she had no idea a home could be this big.
He told her the room she'd been given was nothing more than a guest room, saying it as if he refused to let her sleep where someone else had. It was strange to see the bitterness in his eyes as they walked through the house, and she was wondering what kind of horrors had existed, and also if they mirrored hers in any way.
"You grew up here?" she asked, smiling as her eyes roamed over the books lining the shelves – the books he'd brought from her father's study.
She'd noticed traces of her home in the city all throughout the house; he'd even packed the vase in the foyer and set it in the very same place here. It was a thoughtful way to comfort her and she wasn't surprised that he'd done it without telling her. He would see it as nothing when, in fact, it was everything, and she wished he could see how much all of this meant to her.
"Yes," he grimaced, dropping his eyes to the floor.
Her eyes widened as she crossed the room to the large window behind his desk and folded her arms over her middle. She almost felt guilty that they were here. "It wasn't happy?" she asked, knowing she had no business doing so.
"It was…complicated," he answered quietly, and she decided not to pry any further.
"The garden…it's lovely," she murmured, her eyes takingen in the array of colors that blossomed before her. They were so vivid and lively, practically beckoning for attention.
"My grandmother's roses," he replied in a small voice, stepping up beside her. "I'll always remember her and her rose garden more than anything."
"You've never talked about your family until today," she commented, feeling rude the second she said it. "I mean – I suppose everyone has family, but-"
"It was complicated," he repeated, his eyes sweeping over the garden, his lips torn between a smile and a frown. "My family and I – we were very different from you and your father…fights, anger, resentment – lots of emotions that…" He sighed, hanging his head. "I'd rather not-"
"Of course," she interrupted, unable to stop herself from sliding her arm through his and wrapping her hand around his wrist. She meant the touch to be comforting, but he stiffened, even started to pull away. "Jason, it's al-"
"There's maybe an hour or so left of the sun," he cut in, brushing past her apology as he turned to look at her. "I'll show you the gardens tomorrow. Maybe you'd like to sketch there…or something."
"Oh, I don't have-"
"I've taken care of that," he shrugged.
"Is there anything you haven't taken care of?" she asked, resting her head on his arm as she continued to hold onto him.
His body relaxed and he lifted a hand and started to place it over hers, but dropped it back to his side. "I haven't taken care of a lot of things," he confessed, swallowing hard. "But I'm trying."
She smiled against his arm as she pressed her face into it. "Sometimes that's all you can do, Jason," she sighed sadly. "You have to let that be enough."
"I think you've spent too much time with Nadine," he murmured, shaking his head. "All this newfound wisdom and-"
"It's not newfound…at least not all of it," she argued, pulling her head back to look at him. "I just don't think you like it when someone is smarter than you."
He laughed softly, his lips breaking into a wide grin that Elizabeth desperately wanted to see more of. "I don't like those who pretend to be smart," he teased, causing her to swat him on the arm.
"You are an awful man, Jason Morgan," she said, trying to hide her own amusement.
"And so are you," he replied pointedly, flashing a wicked smileart, "Mrs. Morgan."
"Well – well…you – oh, you've won again," she stammered, too flustered with just how lovely those two words sounded together to think a single, coherent thought.
"Are you ready?" Jason asked, gently knocking on Elizabeth's opened bedroom door. She glanced up from the bed, where she was digging through the box of art supplies he'd given her the night before. It'd been too dark for her to have a look, and she'd spent the better half of the morning pouring through them.
"Ready?" she asked, placing paintbrushes and bottles of paint back into the box before getting up from the bed.
"I promised I'd show you the gardens today," he reminded her, trying to ignore how his heart swelled when she grinned and headed over to him.
"You tend to change your mind so much," she teased, causing him to roll his eyes.
"You don't have to make everything so difficult," he murmured, holding his arm out so she could slide hers through.
"I thought you liked your women difficult," she replied, arching an eyebrow at him. "Or it may have been easy-"
"And you consider yourself a lady," he laughed, relieved that she'd become so at ease in just the first night in this home.
Nadine had been right; getting her away, removing her from what had happened, helped, in more ways than he imagined. She'd actually gotten out of bed early that morning, beating Jason to the breakfast table, and they'd managed to avoid the topic of her father's case as they talked. It wasn't intentional; it was just that they'd found other things to talk about.
Mostly her sketches and the supplies he'd given her, which led into an extremely amusing conversation about how Jason Morgan could change the world over night. He tried to explain that he knew a lot of people, which prompted several comments about how he knew these people, and he sometimes wondered if she enjoyed getting under his skin more than anything.
He was thankful she was being so lighthearted about all of this. After the fit she'd thrown yesterday, he was worried she'd be as miserable here and they'd have no choice but to go back to the city. Sure, being in this home that was filled withof reminders of his parents and the way things had ended between them was extremely difficult, but it was worth the sacrifice. He'd had the time to set up the house and buy her plenty of nice gifts, but there wasn't enough to buy, furnish, and move into a completely new home.
Besides, this house was all but perfect; overly big, but just a short ride to Johnny and Nadine's, and there would be no curious gawkers or worry of people moseying around for gossip. It was secluded in a way that would allow them to make it their own, and Elizabeth needed somewherething new to start over.
"You're quiet," she murmured, leaning against him as they started down the stairs and in the direction of the lavish terrace.
Everything about this house was over-the-top in a way that disgusted him, and it was just a reminder of how leaving London for Italy had been the right choice. This place would have swallowed him whole and made him one of them, or it could have left him just as alone as he was now.
"Not one to enjoy the silence?" he asked, nodding politely to a servant who pushed the door open as they approached.
"I'm getting used to it," she replied, looking curiously at the servant as they passed.
"There isn't much staff," he said, answering her thoughts before she asked them, "but a small one is required. There is a cook, a servant or two, a couple of gardeners, and a maid who will come in the mornings. If you need help getting dressed or-"
"Well, it's mostly us here," she cut in, tightening her hold on his arm as they started across the yard. "I don't require such complicated dressing, which is quite nice if I may say so."
"You look beautiful either way," he heard himself saying, the words flying from the tip of his tongue before he could stop them.
A deep blush rose over her cheeks and she looked away. "You have to stop being so nice to me, Jason. I'm never sure how to take it." He furrowed his brow, confused as to what she meant. "Are you nice for the sake of being nice? Or because you want to be?"
"I think I've made it very clear that I only do what I like," he replied, steering her down the path that led to the lavish, rose-covered archways.
"But it's either all at once or not at all, and I…" She trailed off, her head turning to take in the array of colors from the roses.
His grandmother, Lila, prided herself on her garden, and she tended to it as carefully as she had Jason, seeing each one as an individual beauty, and never complaining if they bloomed too early, late, or not at all. She was the most patient woman he'd ever known, and if he missed anyone – regretted leaving anyone upon going to Italy -; it was her.
"Like that," she murmured, pulling her arm from his so she could lean down and sniff one of the roses.
He had no idea what the hell she was talking about.
"One evening I'm telling you how I feel, these things I don't understand, and you're all but stripping my clothes off and pressing me against a bookshelf-"
"It did not happen like that," he hissed embarrassingly, hating to think that he would have ravished her without so much as a second thought that night. He had no idea what she'd been through, and he'd all but forced himself on her.
"And I tell you a secret – or rather, you figure it out on your own, and now every time I touch you, you want to pull away," she continued, her finger tracing the delicate curve of a deep red bloom. "Sometimes I'm confused as to whether this is a real marriage…or if it's going to remain one of convenience until you get away."
"I told you-"
"I know," she interrupted, hesitant to lift her eyes to his. "But at least for the time being…it could be real."
"I won't hurt you for the sake of some emotion you don't understand," he replied, shaking his head firmly.
"What makes you think I don't understand what I feel now?" she inquired, chewing her lip.
"You don't-"
"I think about things still, only it's different now. Your mouth. Your hands. The way they felt, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do with any of it-"
"Which is precisely why I haven't done anything, Elizabeth. What you went through – a lot of what you want-"
"Unless you don't want to do anything with it, which is quite fine-"
"I never said that either," he hissed, frustrated with his own confusion.
"I won't hold it against you, but I need to know what you expect from me."
"We've talked about this-"
"No, I all but said that I wanted you and-"
"You never said it like that."
"I didn't not say it like that either, Jason. There's more on that list of don'ts, but you didn't let me finish that yesterday either. Big surprise!" she cried, gripping her dress in her hands as she turned and stalked down the path. "You don't kiss a woman like she's the last one alive and-"
"You're enough to force the sanest man into madness," he scowled, gently grabbing her arm and spinning her around to face him.
"You require that I act this way with all your wishy-washy-"
He muffled her words as he moved hurriedly to cup her face and press their lips together, letting out a low groan the very moment their mouths met. It had been all he thought about late at night; the softness of her lips, the velvety warmth of her mouth, and how she felt crushed against him.
"Jason," she panted, tearing her mouth from his, her breath ragged. "You could have at least prepared me for that. You-"
"I told you I can never get a word in with you," he reminded her, his rough thumb smoothing over her cheek. "I had to take things into my own hands if you were ever going to listen to me."
"That hardly counts as a word," she pointed out, smiling softly as she slid her hands over his jacket, stretching on her tiptoes to kiss him again.
His arms slid around her, molding her body to his as their lips parted, and their tongues found the familiarity they'd been aching for since their last moment alone like this. He all but lifted her off the ground as he backed her towards an opening on the trellis. Careful to avoid the thorny rose bushes, he pressed her against it, his hands settling at her hips as he tongue mated skillfully with hers. For the longest time she kept her hands fisted in his jacket, growing bold enough after a while to undo the buttons with shaky hands and slide her hands beneath it.
"Jas – Jas…" She panted dizzily, her head falling back against the wood as she broke their kiss, desperate to catch her breath.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, his voice like gravel, his lips hanging over her ear. Her eyes fluttered open and closed as she looked at him, her chest heaving. He released his hold on her hips and started to back away, but she grabbed his hands, placing one back at her hip and slowly sliding the other up her side. "Elizabeth, if I scared…"
"Stop thinking about what happened," she whispered, swallowing hard as she kept her eyes on his. "I'm not going to break, and you aren't going to hurt me." As if to emphasize her point, she closed her eyes, continuing to tug his hand until it settled over her breast, and he could barely stifle his own groan.
"Elizabeth…"
"Please," she murmured, her hips thrusting against his, her body naturally taking over and asking for what it needed. She urged him on, slipping her arms around his neck and pulling his mouth back to hers, letting out a soft moan when he gave in and molded her breast through the material of her dress. Her hands gripped his jacket at the shoulders, fighting to shove it from his shoulders, and moaning in frustration when his hand dropped from her breast long enough to help remove it completely.
She let out a satisfied growl when he palmed her again, tearing his mouth away from hers and tracing a slow, wet path to the top of her breasts. Her hands tore at his shirt, tugging it from the waistband of his pants and slipping below it. She touched him as delicately as she had the roses, her fingertips tracing over the muscular grooves of his chest. Her nails dug into his sides as he nuzzled her dress down enough to expose the top half of her breast, his eyes drinking in the hardened nipple that peeked through the material.
"Oh, God," she whispered, when he covered the nipple with his mouth, sucking it hard through the material. He started to pull away, worried that he'd scared her, but she raked her fingers through his hair, holding him against her.
She withered against him as he continued to toy with the peek through her dress, one hand clawing at his side as she thrust against him, coming apart at the seems in his arms. He couldn't resist thrusting against her, his own arousal obvious, and she surprised him by returning his eagerness, their bodies rocking steadily as he made his way back to her mouth.
He sucked a moan from her mouth as he kissed her, pulling back long enough to look her in the eye. "You don't have to be so quiet," he murmured, knowing that the way she felt and the sounds that were coming from her were new, and she wasn't sure how to handle them. "It lets me know that I'm doing something right."
She nodded, drawing his mouth back to hers to kiss him hard, pulling away to catch her breath again. He pressed his face into her neck, lapped at her delicate skin, wanting to taste and have all of her at once.
Her mouth.
Her skin.
Her ache between her legs.
"Sir!"
"Son of a bitch," he snarled, punching the trellis as he tore himself away from her, leaving her panting against the wooden fence. Her lips were swollen and red, and therey were marks from his mouth all along her chest, trailing to the wet spot that remained over her nipple.
"Sir, are you done here?"
"I'm so sorry," he apologized, as Elizabeth clasped a hand to her mouth and the other over her chest.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "Please don't be."
"Here," he murmured, snatching his jacket from the ground and holding it out to her. "Cover yourself." She frowned, clearly insulted. "No, I don't want Spinelli to-"
"Sir, where are you? You have a vis-"
"I'll be right there!" he growled, sliding the jacket over Elizabeth's shoulders and buttoning several closures snaps on the front. "I don't want him to see you like that."
"Well," she sighed, sliding her arm through Jason's as they started in the direction of his assistant, "one look at us, and he'll know we weren't down here smelling flowers."
"I honestly don't expect much work from you," Jason murmured, easing himself into the chair behind his father's desk, feeling out of place to be on the side he'd always fought against.
"I came here to work," the man across from him argued, raking a hand through his slicked back hair.
"And to watch Elizabeth," he replied, arching an eyebrow and challenging the man to say different. "Why is it that only Jeffrey thinks I'm capable of looking after his daughter?"
"Desperation," he shrugged, cracking a crooked smile. "Sometimes a last resort…"
"A last resort," Jason repeated, disliking how the words felt on his tongue. "You could have looked after her just the same." He rolled his eyes, holding up his hand to silently apologize for offending him, but Jason shrugged it off. "Unfortunately Jeffrey didn't ask you, he asked me, and the only reason you're here now-"
"Is because I gave you the information you needed," he cut in, narrowing his gaze.
"Exactly," he agreed, still convinced that there was more information to give.
It was the only reason he'd given into his demand to accompany them as staff to the country house, and despite Johnny's argument that there was no reason for him to withhold the truth, Jason couldn't help but feel that there was more. If Lucas had attacked Elizabeth the same night of his murder, if Jeffrey had come across them, and if this man had witnessed a father's revenge – well, there were plenty of holes and lapses in time to fill in.
"So, Mr. Morgan, what exactly do you expect from me?" he inquired, his eyes so dark they were almost black.
Something about him; his face, the shade of his eyes, and the smirk he seemed to constantly wear, unnerved Jason completely. The man was overly smug, believing he had something on Jason in some way; be it Jeffrey's respect or Elizabeth's adoration, but he clearly didn't realize how fond the father was of him.
And Elizabeth – well, she was coming around.
"If you wish to clean, then you may clean. And if you wish to cook, then you may do that, but I'm not much for giving orders," he sighed, already frustrated with this situation.
Sonny obviously intended on being one of those staff members who hung around in the hallways, listening in and taking notes. For the life of him, Jason couldn't figure out why, but it made him all the more curious about the man, which was why he was going to go along with things – for now.
"Do with it as you will," Jason continued, trying to dismiss the man from his study. He was thankful when there was a knock on the door, relieved that the interruption would hopefully get him out of here.
"Jason," came Elizabeth's quiet voice as she pushed the door open, her head poking inside the room.
She gave him a tired, shy smile, sweeping her loose, bedridden curls from her face. Her lips had softened, and she had a thin shawl over her shoulders, leaving him to wonder if he'd left too much of a mark. Spinelli had eyed them suspiciously, but hadn't said a word, and Elizabeth muttered something about needing a nap as soon as they entered the house. Jason could have used one too – preferably with her, and if his assistant came between them one more time, he was going to send him back to Italy.
"Forgive me, I didn't realize – Oh, Sonny!" She threw the door open the rest of the wday and raced over to the man, practically throwing herself in his lap. "What are you doing here?"
"Lilybeth!" he sighed, wrapping his arms around her. "Your husband offered me a job, and-"
"He did?" she asked, pulling herself from his arms and looking over at Jason. "Funny, he didn't mention it."
"I wanted to surprise you," Jason defended, hoping they weren't going to get into yet another fight. He was starting to think she was one of those dreadful women who argued for the sake of making up later, only her version of making up wasn't quite as worthwhile as he remembered. Well, they were working on the making up part. "I told you Johnny contacted Sonny about your father, that things were being handled, and he inquired as to whether or not staff was needed."
"I see," she nodded, grinning as she turned her attention back to Sonny, beaming as she looked at him. "I can't believe you're here. I've missed you so much." She lowered herself into the chair beside his, questions rolling off her tongue one after the other. "How have you been? Your health – is it good? And how is Michael? Not giving you as much trouble as he used to, I hope."
"I've been well, and Michael is the son he's always been," he muttered, tugging uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt. "Enough about me, Lilybeth."
"Oh, do you still have to call me that awful nickname?" she laughed, tipping her head towards Jason. Elizabeth had been so tight-lipped about this man, but it was clear that her feelings for him were nearly as strong as they were for her father. Her eyes were brighter and happier than he'd ever seen, and despite his reservations about the Webber's former servant, he knew Sonny belonged here. "His son, Michael, used to tease me mercilessly and call me Lilybrat."
"You loved it when you were a little girl – well my version, definitely not Michael's," Sonny chuckled, his eyes softening as he looked at her. "Really, I want to hear all about you. One moment you're living alone with only Carly to keep you company, and then I hear you're engaged. I have to admit, I would have liked to come to the wedding."
"Oh, well, it was…private," she replied, her cheeks flushing as she snuck a glance at Jason. "I'm sorry you couldn't attend. Had I more time for something lavish and exciting, you would have been the first invited – as an honorary father." Her eyes dropped to her lap as she failed to hide her frown. Jason hated to see her change from overly happy to heartbroken in a single moment.
"He gave his permission, you know," she continued, fisting her hands nervously in her dress as her eyes rose back to Sonny's. "He contacted Jason, and well…" She sighed, her eyes finding her husband's. "Things went from there."
"You're happy?" Sonny asked, pushing himself up from the chair as he reached out to push a few wispy curls from her forehead.
"For the first time in quite a while," she admitted, her eyes widening as if she couldn't believe what she'd said. She shared a nervous look with Sonny that was filled with more words and understanding than Jason was prepared for. "And I really hope that getting away…"
"It will help," he stressed firmly, flashing an uncomfortable smile that forced her to drop her eyes again, leaving no question as to what this man knew about Elizabeth.
She swallowed hard and her lower lip trembled, causing her to look as scared as she had that night when he'd upset her, leaving Jason to wonder if having Sonny Corinthos in his home wasn't such a good idea after all.