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How Long Can You Resist Ch. 01

By: oohsexypenguin



Author's Note: This is a slowly developing story, and one that does not "get to the sex" for quite a while. If that is what you're interested in, you'll be disappointed here. But if you enjoy getting wrapped up in characters and their stories, then I hope you enjoy what I have to offer.

*

Syresham, south Northamptonshire, England, 1809

The sun rose in the window overlooking Elizabeth Winshaw's bed, and it woke her from a rather pleasant dream. The chickens could be heard in the yard below, as well as the early morning rustlings from the kitchen. Elizabeth sat up and stretched, making a quite striking picture. Her brown hair fell in smooth waves to her waist, and the sunlight lit it in such a way as to make it look like it was on fire. Her back arched as her arms raised above her head, highlighting her delicate shape and causing her young but full breasts to press against the thin material of her nightshift. She wiped the sleep from her blue eyes, eyes she had inherited from her mother. Her pale skin looked dewy from sleep. 

She got up and opened her window, then proceeded to the wash basin to freshen up. After putting on a clean green dress and tucking her unruly hair into a modest bun, Elizabeth made her way downstairs. In the rustic kitchen she saw her mother, Martha Winshaw, plucking the feathers from a chicken, already preparing for lunch. 

"Good morning, dear," Mrs. Winshaw said, barely raising her eyes from the task at hand. "Eat you something, girl, then get to the market. You and your brother need to sell lots of wool today." The Winshaw family raised sheep, and every weekend Elizabeth and her younger brother Theodore made the day's trip to Brackley to sell the wool at the market there. 

Elizabeth took an apple from a bowl on the handmade wooden table and leaned against the doorway leading to the yard. "Where's Papa?" she asked, taking a bite and letting the juices run down her chin. 

"He's mending the sheep's pen," Mrs. Winshaw answered. She blew a curl of hair that looked exactly like her daughter's out of her face, watching Elizabeth eat her meager breakfast. "You know, dear," she said, "it would not hurt you to be a little more ladylike. It might help you wrangle a husband." 

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Mama," she said, chucking the core into the dirt behind her, "we both know that I will not marry until I can find someone who wants me faults and all." She smiled charmingly, dropping a curtsy. "I'll go get the wagon ready." With that she ran outside, leaving her mother shaking her head. 

"That girl," she muttered, tossing the last of the feathers on top of the pile. "She just doesn't know her place."

"Teddy, dear, please move a little quicker with that wool," Elizabeth called, seating herself on the small wooden stool later that day behind the table they had already set up. Going to market and trying to sell her family's only means of income was not her favorite task; often the weather was disagreeable, and there were days where they hardly sold any wool at all. She looked around at the other tables at the market, piled with produce and housewares, materials for dressmaking and yards of lace. Then she watched as her brother set more wool down on their table, and she sighed. 

She was well aware of the pressures her parents placed upon her. It was Elizabeth's duty, as the eldest, to watch over her brother as they made the trips to market every weekend. It was Elizabeth's duty to sell as much wool as she could, since this was how the Winshaws made their money. It was Elizabeth's duty to marry well, in the hopes of providing a better life not only for herself, but for her family. Thinking about these things kept her awake most nights. She was no longer a young girl; at the age of twenty-one, she should have been married already. But much to her parents' chagrin, that time had not yet come. 

Elizabeth, one of the prettiest girls in Syresham, had trouble keeping men interested in her. Perhaps it was because she had a mind of her own and knew how to use it. Perhaps it was because she had educated herself to the best of her abilities by reading whatever books had been laying around her family's home. Or perhaps it was because she was simply not the kind of woman men wanted to marry. Elizabeth did not know, and while it puzzled her, it did not bother her. That is, until her parents brought it up. 

"Lizzie, stop your daydreaming," Theodore teased, prodding her with his elbow. Elizabeth shook her head, blinking away her serious thoughts. Smiling, she nudged him back, and they watched the crowd and settled into the waiting game.

"Sir, I can hardly keep up with you," Henry said, slightly out of breath. The older man who was bent from age quickened his pace to keep up with his young master. 

Gerard St. Claire turned to look over his shoulder at his attendant, and immediately slowed his gait. "Sorry, Henry," he said in a sincere and richly deep voice. "I just wish to be done with this errand." 

Gerard faced forward and scanned the bustling market, straightening his lapel and squinting against the sunlight. The St. Claire family, from London, was visiting Great Aunt Maybelle in Brackley for the week, and Gerard's mother had found it necessary to send her only son to the market to fetch her a few items. He had acquiesced, but only just barely; he longed to take one of his horses and ride through the hills and valleys, if only to get away from it all for just a short time.

Henry interrupted his thoughts, saying "Sir, what is it exactly your mother wished for us to purchase?" Gerard straightened and smiled crookedly. My, thought Henry, he looks just like his father, God rest his soul. Gerard was indeed a striking young man. He was tall and broad shouldered, with curly black hair that hung to his nape. His eyes were a stormy gray, and his face was angular in an attractively masculine way. 

"I believe," Gerard said, "that she wished for a leg of lamb. She wants Cook to prepare it with... something... or another." He shrugged. "Maybe I should have written everything down." Henry chuckled, reminded even more now of the late Mr. St. Claire. "Let us just look around then, sir," Henry said, clapping Gerard on the shoulder. "Perhaps that will jog your memory."

Gerard nodded his assent. "Yes, perhaps," he said, though his attention had already started to wander. He thought back to last evening, when after dinner he had been confronted by his mother and his Great Aunt, chiding him for having yet to find a suitable wife. 

"My darling," his mother had said, looking stricken, "it is time for you to marry. It is time for you to produce an heir!" Gerard was irritated by this. He was a grown man, was he not? Shouldn't it be up to him to decide when he was ready to take a wife? He was only twenty-seven. As far as he was concerned he had plenty of time.

"Wool! Get some freshly sheared wool!" The words caught his ear and thus tore him from his remembrance. He looked to the right and saw a young boy of maybe twelve standing in front of table piled with wool. He might have moved on if his eye hadn't also caught sight of a beautiful but sullen looking young woman, sitting behind the table, staring off into the distance.

"Come, Henry," Gerard said. "Let us examine the wool. I hear the wool is the best in these parts." The two men wandered over to the table. 

"Wool, sirs?" the young boy asked, hope evident in his brown eyes. Gerard chuckled. "Perhaps, boy," he said, ruffling the boy's hair. "You say it's freshly sheared?"

"Yes, sir," the boy answered. "Papa got up early this morning." Gerard nodded, but his attention was held by the girl, who still appeared to be lost in thought. She's stunning, he thought, a small smile coming to his face. Her cheeks were rosy from the warm morning, and the green of her dress offset her features to perfection. The low neckline revealed an ample bosom, and the cut flattered her thin figure. A few dark brown tendrils framed her face, having escaped from her bun. Her eyes were a gorgeous shade of blue, and he stared until she became aware of it and looked at the ground. Gerard felt something strange in his chest; there was something special about this one, he knew it. 

Elizabeth felt the man's eyes on her, and tried to prevent the blush she could feel come from her toes. There was no question that this man was good looking, but the way he was staring at her made her feel naked. Uncomfortable beyond belief, she stood up and crossed her arms across her chest, ignoring the smirk of amusement that crossed the man's face. "You are interested in the wool, yes, sir?" she asked, making sure her tone did not belie the butterflies she could feel in her stomach. 

"Perhaps, miss," Gerard answered, smiling at her wholeheartedly. The effect was immediate: Elizabeth felt her face flush, and she became slightly lightheaded. What is this man doing to me?, she wondered. Taking a deep breath, she narrowed her eyes at him and said, "Well then, sir, I suggest you make up your mind this minute. If you would like some wool, please purchase it. If not, please move along your way." She noticed her brother look at her, confused. It was not often that he saw her this rude to a customer, especially one that appeared to be quite harmless.

Gerard chuckled, motioning to Henry to prepare to hand over some money. "How much?" he asked, picking up a bundle. He directed the question at the boy, but his eyes never left the girl. He didn't wait for the answer. Thrusting what he was sure was more than enough money into the boy's hand, Gerard took the bundle and handed it to a startled looking Henry. 

"Thank you," Gerard said, bowing politely and smiling at the girl. She gave a curt nod, but did not return his smile. "Will you be here tomorrow?" he asked the boy, who nodded, still confused by the situation. "Ah, that is fortuitous," Gerard said. "I shall return tomorrow. I am Gerard St. Claire, by the way," he said, turning to the young woman. "May I have the pleasure of your name?"

Elizabeth paused, uncertain what it was this man wanted from her and why she was so eager to give it. "Um," she said, then blushed at inarticulate choice of words. "Elizabeth Winshaw," she finally stammered. "And this is my brother Theodore." She then sat back down on the stool, refusing to look at the man again. 

"Alright, Elizabeth and Theodore Winshaw," Gerard said, bowing again and smiling once more. "I shall see you again tomorrow." With that he and the older man turned to walk away, disappearing into the crowd of people. Elizabeth had heard the words addressed to both her and her brother, but knew that he meant them solely for her. 

How Long Can You Resist Ch. 02



"Elizabeth met a man today!" Theodore called as he and his sister walked through the front door that evening. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, wishing her younger brother were a more reserved person. 

"What?" their father said as he took his seat at the table for dinner. Rupert Winshaw and his wife had worked the farm all day, and both were more than ready to settle in and have a good meal. "What is this, Elizabeth?"

"Ignore him, Papa," Elizabeth said, kissing her mother on the cheek. "He has no idea what he is talking about." She hoped her father would let it go, but knowing that the subject of marriage had been a particularly sensitive one as of late, it wasn't likely.

"Oh Elizabeth, do tell us your brother is speaking the truth!" Mrs. Winshaw said, clasping her hands to her chest. Elizabeth rolled her eyes again, helping herself to some of the beef stew sitting in front of her. It had been a long day, and she just wanted to eat and go to sleep. "Alright, Mama," she said, giving up as she took a bite of her food. "I met a man today."

"Lovely!" Mrs. Winshaw said, smiling warmly at her daughter. "It's about time, my dear. You are getting older, you know." Mr. Winshaw nodded in agreement. Elizabeth stifled her annoyance; her parents were obsessed with marrying her off, and it was almost too much to take. 

"Tell us about him, dear," Mrs. Winshaw said. "Well," Elizabeth began, "first of all, I didn't meet him so much as he came to our table to look at the wool." She poked at her plate with her fork, finding that she had suddenly lost her appetite. She could once again feel a fluttering in her belly, and it wasn't hunger. "He stared at me the entire time. He bought a bundle, although what someone like him would want with wool is beyond me." Elizabeth pushed a wisp of hair out of her face and looked her mother in the eye. "He made me uncomfortable, Mama. He looked at me as if I was some sort of... I don't know, but it was disconcerting."

"I think he likes her Mama," Theodore inserted, grinning with his mouth full. Elizabeth scowled at him, wishing once again for him to keep his mouth shut. "He couldn't possibly like me, Teddy" she said. "He doesn't even know me." She paused, then added, "He wouldn't like me anyway. He is obviously very wealthy, and I obviously am not."

"Wealthy, you say?" Mr. Winshaw said, lifting his head from his meal. "Yes, Papa," Elizabeth said. "The way he was dressed made that very clear. And he paid us more than enough for the wool."

"So what difference does it make?" Mrs. Winshaw said. "He took a liking to you, and it does not hurt that he comes from money. Do you realize what that could mean for this family if you did end up marrying him?" She stood to clear her dish, then asked excitedly, "When are you going to see him again?" Elizabeth sighed, answering, "He said he would see me tomorrow at the market. I wish he wouldn't. I do not want to give him false hope..."

"Do not say such things," Mrs. Winshaw interrupted, frowning at her. "You have a duty to this family, daughter. You'd best remember that." She then smiled once more, saying, "Now bring me your blue dress. It looks the nicest on you, and it could use a bit of mending."

"Yes, Mama," Elizabeth murmured, getting up from the table and going upstairs to her room. It looks like it doesn't even matter what I want, she thought to herself, sighing and taking her blue muslin dress from the wardrobe. To them, I am nothing more than another sheep.

The next day:

"I wonder when that man will be coming back," Theodore said, his eyes raking over the people milling around the market. It was an overcast Sunday, and it looked like it might rain at any moment. 

"I do not know why you care so much, Teddy," Elizabeth said, straightening the bit of lace that trimmed her neckline. The dress was freshly pressed and mended, and it looked fetching on her. "I doubt he'll return. He probably didn't mean a word he said. Men like him flirt with the women for the pure sport of it." Her words sounded false to her, though, and she couldn't help joining Theodore in scanning the crowd for Mr. St. Claire. In her heart of hearts she did not think she would get along with someone like Gerard, but that did not mean she thought him unpleasant to look at. She remembered his dark hair and his piercing gray eyes. Eyes that had bored into her, making her feel as if she were standing in front of him without her clothes on. Eyes that looked right through her, that glowed...

"Miss Winshaw, may I say that you look beautiful this Sunday morning?" A rich masculine voice interrupted her thoughts, and she immediately turned her attention to Gerard St. Claire. He was unaccompanied today, and wearing a pair of dark trousers and a white buttoned up dress shirt that was open at his collarbone. He had on riding boots, and his hair looked wind tossed. Needless to say he looked quite handsome, and Elizabeth silently cursed him for it. How she was supposed to ignore the advances of a man who looked like that was beyond her, but she was going to try.

Beautiful is an understatement, Gerard thought to himself. He found himself staring like yesterday, captivated by the picture she created. Her hair was again in a bun, and she was wearing a dress that was the same blue as her gorgeous eyes. Gerard felt a tightening in both his stomach and his breeches. I need to get a hold of myself, he thought as he took in the vision before him.

"Thank you, Mr. St. Claire," Elizabeth said, and she dropped a slight curtsy. She watched him through her eyelashes, noticing how confident he looked as he stood there. He borders on being arrogant, she thought, immediately feeling irritated. "Please, call me Gerard," he said, bowing. "And hello to you, Theodore," he said, extending his hand to her brother. "I wonder, young man, if I may borrow your sister for a little while?"

Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow, wondering what in the world this man had in mind. Theodore nodded, grinning slightly. "You may, sir," he said, pushing his sister forward. "I can manage here for a bit." 

Elizabeth stood agape. "Teddy, I do not think it's a good idea for me to just leave you here by yourself..." 

She was cut off by Gerard as he took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. "I am certain he'll be fine," he said as he began to walk away from the table. "Join me for a horseback ride. I promise I'll be the perfect gentleman."

Elizabeth jerked her arm back, anger evident in her pretty face. "Now wait just one minute, Mr. St.... Gerard," she said. "Do not think you can simply order me around. Your technique may work wonders on other girls, but I see right through you and it will not work on me." She stood with her arms crossed, and her cheeks were slightly pink from frustration. Gerard thought she looked even more stunning when she was angry. I have a live wire on my hands, he thought. He could not help the smile that came upon his face.

"Miss Winshaw, I assure you that I have nothing but good intentions. All I ask is your company, for I do so wish to get to know you better." He offered his arm again, saying, "I do apologize if it seemed I was giving you an order. I will refrain from such wording in the future."

Elizabeth, for once in her life, had nothing to say. She frowned. She didn't know what to do with this man. She was not used to such attention from men; what little attention she had been shown, it had dwindled very quickly afterwards. She supposed it had something to do with her fiery temper. But this man was utterly nonplussed by her words. In fact, it seemed he actually enjoyed her even more when she was agitated.

She sighed, then took his arm. They walked out of the market and came upon his chestnut steed. "What a beautiful horse," Elizabeth said, reaching out to stroke its neck. Gerard watched her, finding that his heart fluttered a bit as a look of serenity came over her face while she petted and cooed to the horse. "This old fleabag? I suppose he's alright looking," Gerard said as he straightened the saddle. "His name is Lucifer, and I think he likes you." Lucifer nudged Elizabeth's shoulder with his snout, and Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, it appears that he does," she said, turning her smile to Gerard. He felt short of breath. Her smile will be the death of me, he thought. 

"Well, shall we?" he asked, cutting short his thoughts. He mounted the horse, then reached down to help Elizabeth. She hesitated a moment, then took his hand. She took her place in front of him, and as his arms came around to take the reins she had a sharp intake of breath. A warmth washed over her as she sat nestled against him. Her back was to him, she could feel the firm plains of his broad chest and the strength of his arms. Heaven help me, she thought as she closed her eyes. What am I getting myself into? 



How Long Can You Resist Ch. 03



Author's Note: Thank you for all the encouraging and positive feedback! It's very much appreciated.

*

They rode from the market and out towards the rolling green hills in the distance. Elizabeth looked at the sky and noted that it was an unpromising shade of gray. What if it rains? she wondered, beginning to feel a little uneasy.

She watched the scenery pass her by. There was a slight breeze, and the tall grasses swayed gracefully as Lucifer made his way at a gallop to the crest of a hill. "It's so lovely out here," Elizabeth said over her shoulder. "I don't believe I have been out this far before."

Gerard had been caught up in the sensation of having her resting against him. He could smell the scent of lavender wafting from her hair, and the curve of her neck was so tempting. He wondered what it would taste like, if it would be as sweet as it looked. He started a bit when she spoke, then answered, "Yes, it is quite lovely. I dare say, it is nearly as lovely as you."

Elizabeth could hear the smile in his voice, and she could not help but blush. Immediately she was annoyed with herself. What is wrong with you? she asked herself. Do not let the words of a playboy affect you so! "You are kind, Mr. St Claire, but you flatter me."

Gerard felt her stiffen slightly and wondered what he had done that was so wrong. Couldn't she accept a compliment? Feeling a bit irritated, he frowned and said, "As I have said, Miss Winshaw, please call me Gerard. And I am not flattering you if I speak the truth."

Elizabeth heard the undercurrent of hurt in his voice and instantly chided herself for being so ill-tempered. It was one of her greatest faults, though she hadn't known that she was capable of hurting such a confident man's feelings. "I apologize, Gerard," she said, turning her head to look at him. "I thank you for your kind words." Then she smiled a small smile and once again faced forward. I suppose I can at least be gracious, she thought, biting her lip at the prospect of it.

The dark cloud that had begun to hang over Gerard's head lifted in that moment. "Apology accepted," he said, pulling on the reins of the horse. "Shall we stop here and rest a moment?" he asked as Lucifer came to a stop. "I brought a blanket in my pack, we can sit on that. And the view is nice." 

Elizabeth hesitated. Once more she wondered why this man had brought her out here, and she wasn't sure she wanted to stay long enough to find out. She felt him move off the horse, and he offered his hand to help her dismount. Looking down, her eyes locked onto his. Blue met gray, and for a moment time seemed to slow. She searched his face, seeing in his eyes an openness and sincerity that made her regret her suspicions. 

Gerard was also doing some searching of his own as he studied Elizabeth. Her eyes were so blue, and dark in this lack of sufficient sunlight. He saw her brow crease, and he wondered what she was thinking. This girl was so untrusting, and Gerard wasn't used to a woman resisting his charms. Somehow, though, he felt deep inside that she would come around, and he knew he could be patient enough to wait around for her to do so.

Elizabeth took his hand and came down off the horse. She watched Gerard unfurl the blanket from the pack strapped to the horse and lay it on the ground. Gesturing, he invited her to take a seat. She did, and he followed suit. At first they didn't say anything, and Elizabeth tried not to meet his eyes. She knew he was looking at her, and she couldn't help feeling uncomfortable. At the same time, though, she felt a great warmth flood through her. Her skin heated and her breathing shallowed. She shivered, and it wasn't because of the wind.

"Are you cold, Miss Winshaw?" Gerard asked, looking concerned. You twit, he berated himself, you should have thought to bring a coat. "No," Elizabeth reassured him. "I am perfectly fine. And," she added, "if I am to call you Gerard, it is only fair that you call me Elizabeth."

"Alright, Elizabeth," Gerard said, smiling. Elizabeth's breath caught, and she quickly looked away. Why am I so nervous? she wondered. It's not like I've never seen a man smile before. But there was something about this man, Gerard St. Claire, that was unlike other men Elizabeth had known. He was so refined, yet so darkly masculine. He was almost brutish looking with his black hair and tanned skin, yet nothing but a perfect gentleman. Elizabeth couldn't decide whether to leap into his arms or run as far as she could in the other direction, and such a feeling confused and vexed her.

"May I ask why you are so quiet, Elizabeth?" Gerard said softly, ducking his head to try to meet her downwardly cast eyes. She is such a puzzle, he thought. In London he never had such trouble getting a woman to open up to him; in fact, he had the opposite problem. Women frequently threw themselves at him, and to be honest he had never rejected them. He enjoyed his bachelorhood to the fullest and didn't regret a thing. 

Elizabeth, however, posed a challenge. She was alternately fiery and cold, and he found it intriguing. He longed to know the thoughts in her head, and to know what every look that crossed her face meant. He found himself wanting to know more about her than he had about any other woman, and that fact surprised him.

"I am sorry, Gerard," Elizabeth said. "You'll have to excuse me. I am, after all, out in the middle of nowhere with a man I don't really know." She smiled, and Gerard chuckled. "I appreciate your honesty," he said, sitting back and resting on his hands. "Why not let's get to know each other, then?"

Elizabeth smoothed the skirt of her dress, beginning to relax a little. He is harmless, you ninny, she scolded herself. "What exactly do you wish to know about me?" she asked, cocking her head at him. Gerard shrugged, saying, "Anything you want to tell is good enough for me." 

"Well then," Elizabeth said, leaning back on her hands like Gerard. He noticed that the position threw her breasts into full relief, leaving her back arched in a most attractive manner. He swallowed roughly, feeling a surge of heat pass through him. She is so tempting and she doesn't even know it, he thought. It was a nice change to be with a woman who wasn't so openly coquettish.

"My family raises sheep," she said, looking Gerard in the eye. "That is how we make our money. We sell the wool." Gerard nodded. "I gathered as much," he said. "That wool, by the way, is very high quality. Do you sell a lot of it?"

"No," Elizabeth said, frowning a bit. "I'm afraid wool isn't the most popular item to sell at market these days." She looked away, then at him again. "What brings a sophisticated man such as yourself to the country?" She grinned, obviously teasing him. 

She's quite charming when she wants to be, Gerard thought, grinning back at her. "My mother and I are in Brackley visiting a great aunt," he said. "She doesn't live too far from the market, actually." Elizabeth nodded, running her hand over the blades of grass near the blanket. "What about your father?" she asked.

Gerard's mood quickly turned sober. "He died a few years ago," he said. It was his turn to look away, and Elizabeth regretted the question. "I am sorry, Gerard," she said, placing her hand on his arm by way of comfort. "I did not mean to pry."

"Please, don't apologize," Gerard said, placing his hand over hers. Despite the sadness that had come over him at the thought of his father, he felt a tingling in his arm as her hand rested there. It felt warm and reassuring, and wholly pleasant. 

Elizabeth blushed and pulled her hand away. That was quite forward, she thought, staring at her lap. Clearing her throat, she asked, "May I ask how he died?"

Gerard sighed, sitting up. "Father was an avid horseback rider. He taught me how to ride, and on days when the weather was good we would head to the countryside and ride together for hours." He stared into the distance, beginning to feel a tightening in his chest. He never talked with anyone about his father's death, not even his mother; he was surprised at himself for opening up so quickly to Elizabeth. 

"One day we were out riding when his horse got spooked. I still don't know why." Gerard looked down and noticed that his hands were gripping his knees. "Father was thrown from the horse. He broke his neck and died instantly." He looked at Elizabeth. "And I witnessed it."

Elizabeth raised her hand to her mouth, horrified for Gerard. "I can't even imagine what that must have been like," she said, feeling such pity for him. Gerard shrugged, the sadness in his face replaced by peacefulness. "It was hard, to say the least," he said. "But at least he died doing something he loved."

Thunder resounded in the sky, and the first few drops of a cold rain pelted them. "Oh no!" Elizabeth cried. "We have to get back to the market!" The rain proceeded to come down in a torrent, effectively soaking the pair as they scrambled to gather the blanket and get back on the horse. 

"The rain is too strong to be riding all that way in right now," Gerard said, speaking loudly enough to be heard in the noise and pulling Elizabeth onto the horse. "We should find shelter until it passes, and then I will take you back."

"But what about Teddy?" Elizabeth asked, straining her throat in her desperation. She was worried about her brother. I knew I shouldn't have left him alone, she said to herself.

"I'm sure he'll be safe," Gerard said, slapping Lucifer's haunch. They galloped back down the hillside. Gerard yelled, "I know of an abandoned barn nearby. We can wait out the storm there."

Elizabeth sighed, worrying about her brother. Gerard bent as much of his large frame over her as he could, trying to protect her from the brunt of the rain. The abandoned barn came into view. Most of its roof was missing, but all they needed was a dry corner and they'd be fine.

Once they reached the barn, Gerard helped Elizabeth dismount. They hurried inside, Gerard leading Lucifer along with them. The horse whinnied his discontent. "Shh, old boy," Gerard said, leading him to one corner of the spacious room and stroking his snout. "It's just a little rain."

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her shivering body and watched as Gerard calmed the horse. He was so gentle with the animal. It was endearing, and she couldn't help but smile. 

Gerard noticed that Elizabeth was soaked and shaking with cold, and once again chastised himself for not thinking to bring a coat. A sense of protectiveness overcame him; he strode over to her and without a word wrapped his arms around her, hoping to warm her with body heat.

Elizabeth stilled, feeling her heart speed up in her chest. Gerard was quite tall; her head came only to just the top of his chest. His arms were thick and strong. She raised her head to look at him and they locked eyes. She felt warm immediately, but it wasn't just because of the body heat. 

Gerard didn't know what he had been thinking, taking her in his arms like this. It was inappropriate on many levels, but it felt amazing. Her shivering stopped, and he could feel the length of her pressed up against him. Her breasts were flattened against his frontside, and he silently prayed that he could keep his nether region under control. Again he smelled the lavender. He felt her begin to warm up as he stared down at her, and she slowly unwrapped her arms and rested the palms of her hands on his chest. 

What am I doing? Elizabeth shouted at herself. She couldn't seem to think clearly. Her body was reacting with a mind of its own. Her breathing was coming in short bursts, and she was dizzy. They continued to stare at each other, many emotions passing in their gazes. In his eyes she saw... lust. Lust that he was clearly struggling to hold at bay. 

Gerard was fighting a losing battle. He was drawn in by her sapphire eyes. In them he could see a mixture of things. There was fear, apprehension, confusion. And then he saw it: desire. It was fleeting, but it was enough to cause him to lower his head and touch his lips to hers.

She started when their lips met. She had never been kissed before, and at first she didn't know how to react. Gerard's jaw was stubbly, and he smelled like musk and rainwater. His wet raven locks dripped water onto her face, but she didn't care. The kiss deepened, and Elizabeth found herself melting. 

She tastes so Goddamn sweet, Gerard thought, suppressing a moan as he lightly ran his tongue over her lips. Her mouth was hot, and it seared him to the bone. She relaxed into him and parted her lips a little, allowing him access. He took his arms from around her and cradled her face in his hands, kissing her with all the passion he'd tried so hard to restrain. She whimpered, and this time Gerard couldn't suppress his moan. 

He ran his hands from the sides of her face down to her neck, over her shoulders, down her arms and to her waist, pulling her more closely to him. The rain had made her dress cling to her every curve, and it was almost as if he were touching her without clothes on. This kiss, these sensations were nothing like Gerard had ever felt before. It was almost as if he was kissing a girl for the first time.

Elizabeth was mindless, lost in the feelings rushing over her. She felt so warm, and goosebumps were raised as Gerard's hands roamed over her lower back. She moved her hands over his chest, up to his neck and then into his hair, curling it around her fingers. He moaned again, and she felt a thrill knowing that she was causing him to react this way. 

A particularly loud roll of thunder sounded, and Elizabeth, startled, breaking away from Gerard. It was a harsh snap back to reality as she realized what she had just done.

"What did you bring me out here for?" she asked, outrage evident in her voice. She stared at Gerard, breathing heavily as she backed away from him. Gerard was taken aback. After what they had just experienced, he had no idea how she could be so angry and cold to him so quickly. "What do you mean by asking that, Elizabeth?" he said, feeling his own anger rise to the surface. He didn't know yet what she was implying, but he knew he didn't like her tone.

"Did you think that you could bring me all the way out here and have your way with me?" Elizabeth spat at him. She was ashamed at how wantonly she'd allowed him to kiss her. Looking down, she noticed how her dress hugged her body, and she crossed her arms and blushed. "I don't know what you do or who you do it with in the city, but I'm not a whore."

Her words hurt him. Gerard stared at her, unwilling to believe that someone who could kiss the way she did could use that same mouth to spit such venom. "Do you really believe that of me?" he said, walking over and standing right in front of her. She tried to look away, but he wouldn't let her. "Do you, Elizabeth?" he asked again. "Look at me. Tell me what you're thinking."

She met his eyes. Gone was any vestige of desire he had seen in her earlier. She looked confused and doubtful, and he felt his heart sink. "I don't know what to think, Gerard," she said softly. 

"Well, I do," he said, swiping his hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes. "I think you make me feel like I've never felt with anyone. I think I'm really beginning to like you." He placed his hands on her shoulders, then said, "I also think you're beautiful, and charming, and one hell of a good kisser." 

Elizabeth blushed at both the compliment and the language. Gerard sounded so sincere, and he seemed so desperate to have her believe him. She sighed, then said, "It looks like the rain has stopped. Will you please take me back to the market?"

Gerard sighed as well, dropping his arms and backing away from her. "Alright, Elizabeth," he said, walking over to Lucifer. Mounting, he trotted over to where Elizabeth stood and helped her onto the horse. Leaving the barn, they made their journey in silence.

They reached the market as it was shutting down. Gerard dismounted and once again helped Elizabeth off the horse. He wanted to say something, but thought it best not to. It didn't seem like anything he said would change her mind about him, anyway.

Elizabeth turned to go, and Gerard took his seat on the saddle. Turning Lucifer in the direction of his great aunt's house, he was about to leave when he heard "Gerard!"

Elizabeth ran up to the horse, looking up at the sullen man holding the reins. She paused, trying to put a finger on what it was she really felt about him. "I apologize for accusing you of trying to take advantage of me," she said. She looked him in the eye, and Gerard knew she truly meant what she said. "I wanted you to know that I regret what I said. You have given me no reason to distrust you."

Gerard smiled slightly, saying, "And I apologize to you, Elizabeth, for putting you in a compromising position." He bent down towards her, and in a voice only she could hear, said, "But I do not apologize for the kiss. It was wonderful, and I would never take it back."

His words sent a rush through her, and for a moment all she could do was stare at him. Gerard chuckled at her speechlessness, then straightened and took firm hold of the reins. "I hope your brother is alright," he said. "You should go check on him." He dug his heels into the horse, and Lucifer took off at a canter. "I shall be seeing you again soon!" he called over his shoulder. As he rode off, leaving Elizabeth standing open-mouthed in his wake, he was full of renewed determination. I'm going to make her mine yet, he decided. And I think I'm in for the fight of my life.

Elizabeth shook her head at the audacity of that man. What did he mean, "I shall be seeing you again soon?" She turned and walked toward the market, seeing the table with all the wool still on it. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her brother sitting on the stool behind it. Theodore looked like he'd received a good soak, and as he caught sight of his sister he gave her a mischievous grin. "Did you have fun?" he asked, winking. 

"Oh, hush," Elizabeth chided. "That's none of your business anyway." Theodore laughed, and Elizabeth frowned at the obvious enjoyment her brother was getting out of this. As they packed up to leave, she couldn't help but think about Gerard. I wish I'd never met him, she thought to herself. And yet she knew, despite her best efforts, her dreams were going to be filled with him tonight.



How Long Can You Resist Ch. 04



Author's note: I apologize for taking so long to get this story to you. As a college student (approaching graduation!), life tends to get in the way of leisurely writing. Please bear with me. I am working fastidiously on chapter 5.

*

"And so the young master returns."

Gerard started, looking over his shoulder at Henry. He had just returned home and was busying himself setting Lucifer up for the night. "Yes, Henry," he answered. "And you are quite stealthy for an old man."

Henry chuckled, holding a black coat for Gerard to slip into as the men exited the stable. The sky had yet again torn asunder, and fat droplets of rain splashed them as the quickened their pace toward the house. "I trust you found the girl, sir?" Henry asked, stealing a glance at Gerard as they stomped the mud off their shoes at the back door. 

"Hmm?" Gerard said absentmindedly. "Er, yes, Henry. I found her." He couldn't stop the grin from forming across his face. The entire ride back to his great aunt's house, Gerard's mind had been consumed with Elizabeth. Her sapphire eyes, her flaring temper, her smile, and, most importantly, her lush lips that parted so pliantly beneath his. Gerard stifled a groan as he remembered. No wonder he couldn't think of anything else.

"Well, sir, you need say nothing more," Henry said, winking and giving Gerard a knowing smile. "I was young once, myself." 

Gerard chuckled, clapping the old man on the back. "I trust I haven't missed dinner, then?" he asked. 

"No, sir," Henry answered, ushering the younger man into the hallway. "In fact, they were henpecking me as to your whereabouts all afternoon, and simply refused to dine without you."

"Fabulous," Gerard muttered, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. Henry bit back a laugh, knowing full well how much of a handful the women could be.

"Gerard?" Mrs. St. Claire's voice trickled from the dining room. "Gerard, dear, is that you?"

Strolling through the doorway and toward his seat at the end of the ornate dining table, Gerard bowed his head in greeting to his great aunt and dropped a kiss on his mother's cheek. "Yes, Mother, I have returned." Seated, he picked up his knife and fork, saying, "So where are the victuals?"

"Tosh, my dear boy," Maybelle scolded, wrinkling her nose in her already well-wrinkled face. "You are gone all day without a word to us about where you are going or what you are doing, and you return at this ungodly hour and expect to be fed?" Raising her finger and wagging it at her great nephew, she said, "Not a bite to eat until you tell us everything!"

Gerard smirked, admiring the spunk the old woman still had in her. She reminded him of Elizabeth, and he found himself wondering if she would be anything like Maybelle when she was that age.

"My dear, kind, beautiful aunt," he said, attempting to placate her so he could finally eat. "I promise I will tell you and Mother all there is to know." Pausing until she lowered her finger, he then said, "But first I need to fill my stomach, else I not have the strength to divulge my secrets."

Maybelle clucked her tongue while Mrs. St. Claire narrowed her eyes at her son. Gerard had always been rather closed off to her, always having been his father's son. How she wished he would be more open with her, especially since that cherished father was now gone. "Of course, darling," she said, gesturing to the butler to bring in the first course. "Eat to your heart's content, then, please! Share with us what had you running out of here so quickly this morning."

*

When Elizabeth and Teddy arrived back to the farmhouse that evening, she had foregone dinner in favor of escaping to her room. She couldn't bear the idea of sitting once again under her parents' scrutiny. 

She threw herself on her bed, not bothering to change out of her still damp dress. Sighing, her mind tumbled over the events of the day. What was it that got into me? she asked herself, toying with a tangled curl of hair. No doubt she'd enjoyed very much that kiss with Gerard. Much more, in fact, than she'd enjoyed any other kiss. This had not been a stolen kiss behind the barn – no, this had been the kiss of two adults who clearly had an attraction to each other.

But does that excuse me to act so... immodest? Elizabeth wondered. Torn between a feeling of propriety and a confusing yet strong urge to see (and kiss) Gerard again, she simply hoped that she'd never have to see him again. Maybe that way she could move past this, and her parents would stop bothering her with their wishes.

A soft knock came at her door. "Elizabeth?" Mrs. Winshaw said. "Elizabeth? Dear, are you alright?"

"Come in, Mama," Elizabeth said, sitting up on her bed and smoothing her dress. The door opened and Mrs. Winshaw stepped inside gingerly. She was still a remarkably good looking woman, one whom Elizabeth bore a striking resemblance to. Her dark hair had become streaked with gray in the last few years, and there were smile lines around her blue eyes. But all in all she looked warm and beautiful. Though farm life was hard, it was clear that she was happy. Oh Mama, Elizabeth thought, how I wish I could be more like you.

"Why didn't you have supper with us?" Mrs. Winshaw said, concern evident in her face as she sat down beside Elizabeth. 

"I am just tired, Mama," Elizabeth fibbed. Well, it was partly true. But the full truth was something her mother just wouldn't understand.

"Did you see that young man again today?" Mrs. Winshaw asked, seemingly reading her daughter's mind. Looking up, Elizabeth saw that her mother looked hopeful. 

Irritated, she managed to answer calmly, "Yes, he took me for a horseback ride." 

"Oh, how lovely!" Mrs. Winshaw squealed, clasping her hands together under her chin. "That sounds so romantic, dear!"

"Yes, Mama," Elizabeth snapped. "I know what you think. I know what you have to say. But what if I don't want to hear it?"

Offended, Mrs. Winshaw said, "What is wrong with you, girl? Mr. St. Claire seems to have taken a great liking to you, and you are resisting him at every turn! What of your duty to this family?"

"How can I think of my duty to this family when I can't even figure out what I feel about him?" Elizabeth shouted, standing up and glaring at her mother. Tears sprung to her eyes, but she didn't want to cry in front of her mother. 

Mrs. Winshaw sighed and stood up, placing her hands on her softly swelled hips. "There's no excuse to raise your voice to me, girl," she said sternly. Then she placed her hands on either side of Elizabeth's face, forcing her daughter to meet her eye. "I know what's wrong with you, love," she said. "You are scared."

The tears Elizabeth had been fighting finally won the battle as they streamed down her pale cheeks. "I'm sorry, Mama, but I do not know what he wants of me," she said softly, allowing her mother to place her arms around her in at attempt to comfort. "I'm so... confused... I do not know what I feel about him, I barely know him."

"Oh darling," Mrs. Winshaw said, her heart rending at the sight of her oldest baby in such turmoil. "Alright, here's us a deal, then." 

She pulled away to wipe the tears from Elizabeth's eyes. "You know full well what your father and I feel about the subject. You know we wish you to be married, not only so you will be taken care of, but also so you can help take care of us." Waiting until Elizabeth had collected herself, she then said, "I promise you this: your father and I will stop harping on you about getting married, if you promise to give this man a good, honest chance."

Elizabeth said nothing for a moment, considering her mother's words. It seemed reasonable, and both parties would be getting what they wanted. "And what if I decide I don't want to marry Gerard?" she asked.

"Well, then," Mrs. Winshaw sighed, "I guess you'll just be hanging 'bout the farm a few more years, won't you?"

Elizabeth smiled, then stuck out her hand to shake on it. "Deal."

*

"Alright, son," Mrs. St. Claire said as the kitchen staff cleared the table. "Time to let us in on your little secret."

Gerard felt a little trepidation at the prospect of telling his mother and great aunt exactly what he'd been doing all afternoon. After all, it wasn't common for him to relay private details of his life, particularly those that pertained to women.

"Fair is fair, I suppose," he began, warily watching the expressions on the ladies' faces. "If you must know, I met a girl at market last week..."

Before he could finish his story, Mrs. St. Claire had jumped out of her chair and clapped her hands in joy. "Oh, this is wonderful news, my boy!" she said, smiling at Gerard. "It is about time for you to take a wife and give me some grandchildren!"

Gerard glanced at Maybelle and saw that even she was smiling. Given this encouragement, he went on less nervously. "She is beautiful, Mother," he said, his eyes lighting up as he thought about her. "And she is quick witted and tempestuous and... and I like her very, very much." He blushed at his own honesty; he'd never admitted to himself just how much he'd been taken in by this girl, and here he was spouting her praise in front of his family.

"Well that's splendid, Gerard," Maybelle said. "You say you met her at market? What was she doing there?"

"Selling wool from her parents' farm," Gerard answered. "She and her family live in Brackley, and they make their living off their sheep, and today I went to visit her and..." 

He trailed off, noticing how his mother had sunk back down into her chair and how the smiles had vanished from both women's faces. 

"What?" he asked, wondering what he'd said to kill the jovial mood.

"She's a farmer's daughter?" Mrs. St. Claire asked, cocking her head in apparent confusion. "Whatever are you doing with a farmer's daughter?"

Gerard felt his temper rise to the surface at his mother's questions. Had his mother known her son better, she would have seen the warning flash in his gray eyes and not further pressed her luck. But she continued.

"Darling, I do believe you can do better than that. I am sure there are plenty of more qualified young ladies in London..."

"Mother, that's enough!" Gerard bellowed, slamming his fist on the oak table. Mrs. St. Claire jumped, taken aback at her son's display of anger. 

"Gerard St. Claire, you do not raise your voice to your mother!" Maybelle said, pinning her fierce glare toward him. "And what's more, she has a point. A man of your status does not belong with someone below it."

Gerard stood, aghast at their reaction to his news. "I will have the both of you know that I think more of Elizabeth than I ever have of any other 'qualified young ladies.' And what I choose to do with my life is, quite frankly, none of your concern, and as a full grown man I do not need your permission to do anything."

With that he turned on his heel and stormed out of the dining room. "Henry!" he thundered, sweeping into the servants' quarters without bothering to knock. 

"Yes, sir?" Henry asked, shuffling out of a washroom in the midst of scuttling maids. He had never seen Gerard so infuriated.

"I wish you to go into town tomorrow and find out where the Winshaws live, exactly," Gerard demanded. "I think I will pay Elizabeth a little visit." 

"Yes, sir," Henry assented, watching Gerard stalk out of the room and up the stairs. 

*

"Elizabeth, would you be a dear and bring lunch out to your Papa?" Mrs. Winshaw asked. 

Elizabeth, sitting in the windowsill with a blanket wrapped around her, nodded and left her comfortable seat. She'd caught a bit of a chill after her drench in the rain yesterday, but she was well enough to hobble around the house and do a few chores here and there.

"And do eat something, girl," Mrs. Winshaw scolded. "We can't have you wasting away."

Scooping up the plate full of bread and cheese, Elizabeth ignored her mother and stepped out into the yard. I don't feel like eating, so I won't eat, she thought to herself, her stubborn streak making itself known. She looked wan and tired, no doubt from both the soak and all the time she'd spent thinking about Gerard. 

Get a grip, Lizzie, she told herself, approaching her father and watching him mend the sheep's pen. You'll probably never see him again anyway. Though she would never admit it, deep down inside she felt a pang of disappointment at the prospect of never looking into those enchanting gray eyes again.

"Thank you, daughter," Mr. Winshaw said, accepting the plate that she held out to him. "Have you eaten anything?" 

"No," she said, "I haven't much of an appetite, Papa." 

Mr. Winshaw shook his head at his daughter. "Well then, care to keep an old man company?" Elizabeth grinned took a seat on the ground next to her father.

"Where is Teddy?" she asked, looking around the yard and not seeing him. "Oh, he's around here somewhere," Mr. Winshaw answered. "I can never keep my eye on him for too long, he's too young and quick."

They shared a laugh, then sat in silence for a while. Mr. Winshaw could tell Elizabeth was bothered, but he didn't know how to approach the subject. Finally he decided to just be out with it.

"I know about the deal your mother made with you, and I want you to know that I'm fine with it." 

Elizabeth nodded. "I know, Papa," she said. "I will keep up my end of the bargain if you do." She paused, then said, "Although I do not know how I can make good on my word if it isn't sure that I will even see him again."

At that moment a noise in the near distance caught their attention, and they both turned to see a carriage come to a stop just outside their fence. Puzzled, they did nothing as they watched the driver disembark and go to open the carriage door. Out stepped Gerard St. Claire.

"Oh God," Elizabeth murmured, her breath catching in her throat. 

"Don't take the Lord's name in vain, girl," Mr. Winshaw said. 

Gerard looked even more handsome than he had the last two times Elizabeth had seen him. Today he was dressed in dark pants and a dark coat, wearing another white shirt that was unbuttoned at the top. His hair had been combed into place, and what little sunshine there was made the ebony of it gleam. 

"May I help you, sir?" Mr. Winshaw called, walking towards the gate to let the man in. 

"Yes, sir, for one you may call me Gerard," Gerard said, extending his hand. "I take it that you are Mr. Winshaw?"

"Why yes, I am," Mr. Winshaw answered, shaking the young man's hand and appreciating the young man's manners. "And I take it you are here to see Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth had not moved, unable to as she watched her father and Gerard interact. Why is he here? she thought frantically, the panic evident on her face.

Gerard stole a glance at the girl and almost laughed outright. She looks so stricken, he thought, and, as usual, absolutely divine. Elizabeth was wearing a cream colored dress today, and it clung to her curves in an entirely flattering (and arousing) way. Her dark tresses were loose and tumbled about her shoulders, and despite her pale complexion she looked just as fiery as ever.

"I am, sir," he answered Mr. Winshaw. "I was wondering if it would be alright if I took her for a ride in my carriage?" Noticing the hesitation in the older man's face, he added, "You need not worry, I will protect her with my life, and we will be well chaperoned." He gestured to the driver, who bowed his head in their direction.

"Why don't you ask her yourself, Gerard?" Mr. Winshaw said, winking at the boy and then turning to walk back towards the house. He saw that Mrs. Winshaw was standing at the kitchen window, transfixed by what was transpiring in the yard.

"Your father makes a good point," Gerard said as he walked through the gate and up to Elizabeth, who had yet to move. "Is it alright if I take you on a carriage ride?" He leaned in closer, and whispered, "I promise I'll behave myself this time."

Elizabeth blushed furiously, tilting her head back and looking Gerard squarely in the eye. "Well, I expect nothing less of you," she fired back. "The next time you pull a stunt like that I shall give you a black eye."

Gerard laughed heartily, tickled by Elizabeth's vivacity. "And I will deserve it. Come, please accompany me?" Offering his hand, he said a silent prayer that she wouldn't reject him.

About to say no, Elizabeth stopped herself as she remembered her promise to her mother. I said I would give him a chance, she reminded herself. Resigned, she nodded. Taking his hand, she said, "I would love to go on a carriage ride with you, Gerard."

Gerard's heart filled with joy at the touch of her hand in his. Smiling, he said softly, "Thank you, Elizabeth. You look absolutely beautiful this morning."

Elizabeth flushed again, and, forcing herself to take the compliment, she simply said, "Thank you, as well."

After helping her into the carriage, Gerard instructed the driver to take them on a leisurely ride through the country. Then, taking his seat next to Elizabeth, he assumed the position of the perfect gentleman.

*

"What possessed you to come all the way out here?" Elizabeth asked. "It is a good hour and half drive from Brackley."

"I woke up early," Gerard answered, smiling down at Elizabeth. He smiled even wider at her blush. She is so adorable, he thought. 

"You drove all the way out here to go on a drive through the country?" Elizabeth pressed. She felt a need to get past all the flattery and have him state the truth. 

"Well, yes and no," he answered, his eyes becoming serious as he gazed into her face. "I also came to see you. I wanted to see you, very badly."

Elizabeth bit back a smile. Finally, she thought, he's stopped being coy. "And why did you want to see me?"

Gerard grinned, then assumed a sober expression as he turned to look out the window of the carriage. "Because," he said. "I find that I've never enjoyed myself more than when I'm out in the middle of nowhere with you."

He sounded so serious that Elizabeth had no choice but to believe him. "That is the sweetest, most sincere thing anyone has ever said to me, Gerard," she said quietly, placing her hand on his elbow.

Turning from the window, Gerard looked at Elizabeth and found she was staring at him. There was no doubt in her eyes, and it was a pleasant change. "That is nice to hear, Elizabeth," he said, smiling warmly once again. "But why do you choose now to believe me?"

Elizabeth sighed, looking at her feet and removing her hand much to Gerard's chagrin. "Because," she said, echoing his earlier phrasing. "Most of the time you seem to be merely trying to flirt with me." She met his eyes again, then said, "I much prefer it when you are just yourself."

Gerard was silent a moment as he contemplated her words. Yes, he supposed, he did have a flirtatious nature. It was what worked on the London scene. But Elizabeth was different; she didn't need the flattery or the words of wooing. She simply needed the truth.

"I have a question, Elizabeth," he blurted before his thoughts had fully formed. 

"Hmm?" she asked distractedly, having turned her attention to the countryside passing in the window. 

"I want to know, is it alright with you if I... if I... were to, um, see you?"

Elizabeth turned towards him, confused by his awkward question. "You are seeing me now, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes, but... oh, you know what I mean," Gerard stammered, frustrated at his apparent inability to form a simple question. What is it about her that flusters me? he thought irritatedly. 

"I do not," Elizabeth answered, although he thought he detected faintly a trace of humor in her eyes. 

"What I am trying to say," he said, taking her hand in both of his and startling her in the process, "is that I would like to know if it's alright with you if I court you."




How Long Can You Resist Ch. 04



Elizabeth felt a flutter in her chest, and the same lightheadedness she had felt when she'd been in close proximity to him in the decrepit barn. He was staring at her intently, awaiting her answer. He looked so eager, and she felt some of her old resolve slip away from her as she found herself saying "Yes, it's alright with me."

Gerard released the breath he'd been holding. "Well, that's just the answer I'd hoped to hear," he said, grinning and pulling her closer to him. "Is it also alright with you," he said softly, reaching up to brush a lock of her hair out of her face, "if I kiss you? To celebrate?" He brought his hand up and cupped her cheek gently.

Elizabeth's breathing became ragged. This was escalating quickly, and though she knew that she should be more proper she couldn't stop herself from nodding. She wanted more than anything to feel his lips on her again.

Seeing her small nod, Gerard touched his lips to hers, gently at first, then increasingly more passionate. My God, she tastes better than I remember, he thought, bringing his arms around her slim waist and trapping her against his chest. He could feel her bosom through her thin muslin dress, and her skin heated under his touch. 

Almost of their own will Elizabeth's hands found themselves in Gerard's hair, running through it and illiciting a moan from him. Growing bolder, to her surprise, she ran her hands from his head down the lapels of his coat, then underneath it to the expanse of his chest.

Gerard moaned again as he felt her small hands come in contact with his nipples through his shirt. Though her hands no longer moved, just having them there sent a flash of heat through him unlike any he had ever known. He took one hand from around her waist and ran it up over her stomach, up between her breasts, and to her throat. He touched and caressed the soft skin there before he dragged a finger lazily along the lace at the top of bodice of her dress.

It was Elizabeth's turn to moan as his finger worked magic on her flesh. A tingling sensation began at the top of her head and worked its way through her body, coming to a rest in her nether region. What a queer feeling, she thought woozily, having never experienced this before. Must... stop...

"Maybe you should bring me home," she managed to say as she pulled away from Gerard. They were both breathing heavily at this point, and Gerard saw that she was delightfully pink from the excitement. 

"As you wish, dear one," he said, mentally promising his aching cock that he would take care of it later. Depositing a kiss on the top of Elizabeth's head, he straightened his coat then proceeded to tell the driver to take them back to the Winshaw farm.

*

"I had a lovely time with you yet again, Elizabeth," Gerard said as he helped her out of the carriage. "Well worth the waking up early and the drive."

Elizabeth laughed, allowing Gerard to kiss her hand. "You really are a flatterer, Gerard," she said. "But I had a lovely time as well."

"Will I see you again at market this coming Saturday?" he asked, looking hopeful. "After all, I was on good behavior today. I asked before I kissed you."

Elizabeth laughed again. "Yes, I will be there. Will you?" 

"You can bet your life on it," Gerard answered, drawing yet another blush from Elizabeth. And with that she stood and watched the carriage make its way back to Brackley. Though she was uncharacteristically happy, Elizabeth couldn't help but be cautious. I still do not know him all that well, she said to herself. And I don't know how I would take it should I be disappointed.



How Long Can You Resist Ch. 05



Author's note: This chapter is full of plot development (a little reward for those of you who have been patiently waiting), and hopefully you find it as entertaining to read as it was for me to write. 

*

"I want you to pack your things tonight, Gerard. It is time for us to go home."

Mrs. St. Claire was standing in the doorway of Gerard's room, looking somber. Gerard was preparing to meet Elizabeth at market that morning, and at the sound of his mother's voice he popped a button off his crisp white shirt.

"What?" he said irritatedly, turning around to face her. "What do you mean?"

"Darling," Mrs. St. Claire said, "when we first came here we only intended to stay for a week, remember? I do think it's time for us to get back to London." She fiddled with the lace on the sleeves of her dress, and without looking at her son added, "There are a few suitable young ladies there I've arranged for you to meet..."

She got no further before Gerard angrily cut her off. "Mother, I cannot believe your gall," he spat. He ripped off his now ruined shirt, leaving his upper body bare, much to his mother's chagrin. Striding to the armoire to retrieve a new one, he said, "You only wish to leave now because I have met a girl that you deem as inappropriate."

"Well, Gerard, you can hardly blame me," Mrs. St. Claire replied, feeling her own anger rising to the surface. Gerard may have received his looks from his father, but he most certainly had inherited his volatile temperament from his mother. "You gallivant around like some sort of country boy, and you take up with a farmer's daughter!"

"Do you realize how condescending you sound, Mother?" Gerard said in disbelief. Having put on another shirt, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on a pair of black riding boots. "You speak like people from the country are simple minded and uncultured." Standing, he strode over to his mother and looked her in the eye. "And I would thank you to not speak unkindly of Elizabeth in my presence. You don't even know her."

Mrs. St. Claire stared up at her son, refusing to back down. "And how would I know her?" she asked. "I've never met her!"

Gerard squinted and cocked his head, as if in thought. "You know, Mother, you are right," he said finally. "I think you should meet her. It's only proper that you get to know the woman I am courting." 

His mother went a bit pale. "Courting?" she asked, reaching for the doorknob to steady herself. 

"Yes, courting," Gerard answered. "I really do like her, Mother." Taking one of her small hands in his larger ones, he met his mother's eyes and said, "It would mean the world to me if I could bring her to dinner tonight and have you give her a chance."

Mrs. St. Claire sighed, unable to deny her son when he asked her so sincerely. "Alright, Gerard," she acquiesced after a few moments of thought. "She may come for dinner."

"Thank you, Mother," Gerard said, stooping to kiss her on the cheek. "I appreciate it." And with that he moved past her and down the stairs, eager to see Elizabeth once again.

Mrs. St. Claire watched as her son walked out the front door. She shook her head and frowned. "I hope you know what you're doing, son," she murmured. 

*

"You look far too fancy to be selling wool, Lizzie," Theodore said, grinning teasingly at his sister. 

They were sitting on their usual stools, at their usual table, at their usual place at market. Elizabeth elbowed her brother, blushing even as she smiled. She had taken extra care in dressing that morning, knowing that Gerard intended to pay a visit. She had chosen a red gown that was fairly new, and it fit her perfectly. The color was the perfect contrast to her creamy pale skin. The neckline plunged just low enough to show a decent amount of cleavage, without being too scandalous. There was a matching red ribbon holding her hair back, which tumbled in shiny dark curls down her back. She was drawing the attention of many men (and the jealous stares of a few women), but she failed to notice.

"I guess it's for that Gerard fellow, isn't it?" Theodore continued, grinning even more widely. Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh now. "You really are obnoxious, Teddy, you know that?" she said.

"Yes, I know," Theodore said. "But it's fun." 

Elizabeth laughed again. She was in a very good mood, the best mood she'd been in for a long time. She found that the mere thought of Gerard was enough to put her in better spirits. I do believe the man is growing on me, she thought. 

"So are you going to marry him?" Theodore asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Startled, Elizabeth frowned. "I have no idea, Teddy," she said. "And what business is that of yours, anyway?"

Theodore shrugged. "Well, as much as Mama and Papa talk about it, I figure it's everyone's business."

Elizabeth sighed. "I suppose you have a point." She used a hand to shield her eyes from the sunlight and scanned the crowd. They had been there for an hour, and still no sight of Gerard. 

"I don't think I ever want to get married," Theodore said suddenly, catching Elizabeth off guard. 

"What makes you say that?" she asked, confused. "And why are you even thinking of marriage? You're only twelve!"

Theodore shrugged again, toying with a pile of wool. "I don't know," he said. "If you find the idea of marriage so bad, it can't be that good."

Elizabeth stared at her brother, contemplating what he was saying. He was a young man now, tanned from spending most of the day in the sun. His hair was dark like her own, and curled down to the nape of his neck. His brown eyes were serious at the moment, and it was evident that when he grew up he was going to be a striking gentleman. "Oh Teddy," she said. "You shouldn't let what I think and say affect you so."

"I suppose," Theodore said. 

"Look at me, Teddy," Elizabeth said sternly, waiting until her brother met her eyes. "You will make some lucky woman incredibly happy one day. Don't listen to your fussy hen of a sister. You live your own life the way you want to live it, do you hear me?" 

Theodore smiled, then said, "You know what, Lizzie? For a hen, you're not too bad."

Elizabeth smirked. "And for an obnoxious little brother, you're not too bad yourself."

*

Gerard tied Lucifer to a post and delved into the crowd at market. He chided himself for being so late; he had overslept that morning, and with his mother springing on him earlier his day had not gotten off to a good start. He perked up as he spotted Elizabeth, and he sped up as he headed toward her table.

His heart sped up as well as he took in the vision that was before him. She was captivating -- she looked good enough to devour in her red dress, and he gulped as he tried to wipe away the dirty thoughts that immediately came to his mind. 

Gerard then noticed that she and her brother appeared to be deep in conversation. He neared the table cautiously, then cleared his throat.

"Oh!" Elizabeth yelped, looking up to see Gerard chuckling. "You startled me, you cad!"

Gerard laughed even harder at her indignation. "You are absolutely beautiful when you are mad, you know that?" he said, reaching out and tweaking her nose. 

Elizabeth continued to frown, but there was humor in her eyes as she stared back at Gerard's smiling face. He looked rather dashing today, but then again, when didn't he? she thought. His hair was hanging rakishly, curling at the ends, and the corners of his eyes were wrinkled from smiling. It looked as if he hadn't shaved in a few days, leaving him with the slightest hint of dark stubble along his jawline. And, as they were wont to do, his gray eyes bored into her, making her feel almost sinfully exposed. Elizabeth grew warm as she tried to compose herself.

"Theodore, do you mind if I stay here a while and bother your sister?" Gerard said, winking at the younger Winshaw.

"Not at all," Theodore said, winking back and causing Elizabeth to roll her eyes in mock annoyance. "And you can call me Teddy, everyone else does."

Gerard chuckled. "Alright, Teddy. Why don't you run along and amuse yourself? I'll keep an eye on Elizabeth."

"I beg your pardon!" Elizabeth interjected, catching her brother by his sleeve as he attempted to oblige Gerard. "I can look after myself just fine, despite what you might think!"

Gerard stifled a smile at the sparks of anger that had lit in her midnight eyes. By God, what a woman, he thought. "My apologies, dear one," he said, bowing his head. "I merely wish to keep you company. I've missed you these last few days."

Elizabeth felt her face turn red. "Well, if you must know, I missed you, as well," she said demurely, letting go of Theodore's sleeve. Turning to him, she said, "Be careful, Teddy, and be back here in time to pack up and leave."

She watched as he ran off, feeling Gerard's eyes on her and noticing his brilliant smile in the corner of her eye. You shouldn't have admitted that, she scolded herself. Now he has the upper hand.

"You missed me too, did you?" Gerard asked, hoping she wouldn't take it back. It warmed his heart to know that in their time apart she had thought of him too. 

"I did," Elizabeth sighed, finally meeting his eyes. "In spite of your odious personality, I found I could not think of anyone else."

She laughed at the offended look that came to Gerard's face, then squealed as he launched at her and wrapped her in his arms. "Gerard!" she cried, looking around frantically as the scene they were creating drew attention. "Mind yourself!"

He kissed her forehead, staring down into her lovely face. "You know as well as I do that you prefer it when I don't mind myself," he murmured softly, the left side of his mouth curling up in a grin.

Elizabeth blushed and swatted at his chest with her hand. "You arrogant oaf, you let me go this second!" Though she protested, she felt a warmth go through her, and it settled in the pit of her stomach and made her ache in a way she didn't understand. 

"I love when you call me pet names, little one." Gerard kissed her forehead once again, then let her go. Not because she'd made a fuss, but because the close contact had caused quite the conspicuous bulge in his pants. Whoa, boy, he said to himself. 

Smoothing the front of her dress, Elizabeth said, "I shall keep that in mind and call you 'oaf' more often." 

Laughing, Gerard reached out and brushed a tendril of hair from her flushed cheek. It was a rather tender gesture, and one that sobered the moment. Their eyes locked, and Gerard let his hand rest against her soft skin. Almost unconsciously Elizabeth closed her eyes and rested her face in the palm of his hand, enjoying the feel of him and the sense of calm that had come over her. 

Gerard barely managed to suppress a groan at the sight of her relaxing at his touch. He found himself wondering how she would respond to more of his touches, in more intimate places than her cheek. Shaking the thought away, he decided to change the subject. "So, is it alright if I help sell wool today?" he asked, removing his hand and leaving Elizabeth slightly bleary eyed.

"Hmm?" she asked, then said, "Oh. Erm, yes, it's alright." She was embarrassed by her body's reaction to him. Trying to lighten the mood, she added, "Although I doubt you can do as well as Teddy. He's quite the salesman."

Gerard cocked an eyebrow, smirking. "Is that a challenge, minx?"

Elizabeth also cocked an eyebrow. "Would that be you accepting, oaf?"

In answer, Gerard turned from her, cupped his hands on either side of his mouth, and called out, "Wool! Wool for sale!"

*

Later that afternoon, Elizabeth was silently marveling at Gerard. He had managed to sell nine bundles of wool, and all the the buyers had been women. She had to admit, she was a bit jealous watching Gerard charm them into their purchases. He had smiled and flirted, and the women had plunked down their money. Maybe he should come to market every weekend with us, she mused, observing the latest transaction. 

"Enjoy your wool, madame!" Gerard said, waving goodbye to a stout older woman who was walking away giggling like a school girl. He turned to Elizabeth and smiled smugly. "So, who is the better salesman now?"

Elizabeth scowled. "You may be the better salesman," she said begrudgingly, "but Teddy is by far less vexing than you."

Gerard's smile widened. "You had better stop with the compliments, my sweet," he said, taking a seat next to her. "You might accidentally boost my ego."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," Elizabeth said, pretending to be horrified at the notion. 

Gerard laughed, then his face grew serious as he fixed his eyes on her. Oh no, she thought, growing worried. I know that look, and it is never good.

"I have something to ask of you, Elizabeth," he said, taking her hand in his. Nervous now, Elizabeth attempted to smile. "I thought I had boosted your ego enough for today," she tried to joke.

Gerard grinned half-heartedly, then once again resumed his earnest stare. "I was wondering if you would like to have dinner at my aunt's house this evening," he said in a rush, his heart pounding in his chest. 

Elizabeth froze, and the blood drained from her face. "Di...dinner?" she stammered, staring at Gerard as if he'd grown a second head. "With your family?"

"Yes," he said, brushing his thumb back and forth over the back of her hand in an attempt to calm her down. "My mother would love to meet you," he fibbed, hoping to reassure her. 

"Your mother?" Elizabeth said, frowning even more. "Your mother knows about me?"

"Of course," Gerard said. "I talk about you all the time."

Elizabeth felt a surge of joy go through her at his admission, but then quickly reverted to panic. "Er, um... I do not know about this, Gerard..."

"Please, Elizabeth," Gerard asked, grasping her hand tightly. "I would be so honored if you would accept my invitation."

Elizabeth sighed, gazing at Gerard's handsome and sincere face. "What about Teddy?"

"He's a big boy now, can't he make his way home himself?" Gerard asked. 

Before Elizabeth could answer, Theodore appeared suddenly, as if conjured by the speaking of his name. "What's this about me going home by myself?" he said.

"I am in charge of him," Elizabeth said to Gerard, ignoring her brother. "What if we send him off alone, and something happens to him?"

"Oh, come on, Lizzie," Theodore said, scowling. "Nothing will happen, I know the way home like I know the back of my hand."

Gerard tightened his grip on Elizabeth's hand. "The decision is completely up to you, darling," he said. "But I must say I support your brother."

Elizabeth paused, considering the situation. Looking first at Gerard, then at Theodore, she made up her mind. "Alright, then," she said, standing and pushing her hair out of her face. "I shall accept your invitation," she said to Gerard. He smiled broadly and released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

"And as for you, Teddy," she said, turning to her brother and grasping him by the shoulders. "You be very careful, do you understand?"

Rolling his eyes, Theodore nodded. "I know, I know, Lizzie," he said. "You needn't worry about me."

"If we want to be on time for dinner, we should leave now," Gerard said, touching Elizabeth's shoulder. 

Hugging her brother, Elizabeth turned and took the arm Gerard offered to her. "Then let us go," she said. Heaven help me, she prayed silently.

*

"Mother, this is Miss Elizabeth Winshaw."

Gerard had escorted Elizabeth into his great aunt's enormous (and intimidating) house and into the parlor. There she was greeted by the sight of two older women sitting in brocade armchairs. They blended in well with the ornate surroundings; the furniture was wooden and gilded, and uncomfortably stiff looking.

Elizabeth dropped a curtsy, noticing the slight grimace on Mrs. St. Claire's face. Gerard's mother was a cold looking woman, but handsome nonetheless. Her son looked nothing like her, but it was clear that the St. Claires were a good looking family.

"Elizabeth, this is my mother, Edith St. Claire," Gerard continued with the introductions. "And this is my great aunt Maybelle Horton." He gestured to the shriveled woman sitting near the fireplace, and who amazingly looked even more dour than Mrs. St. Claire. 

"How do you do," Elizabeth said as she curtsied again. Maybelle narrowed her eyes and bowed her head slightly, but said nothing. Silence ensued, as they all stared at each other. 

This is ridiculous, Gerard thought, beginning to feel irritated. "I helped Elizabeth sell wool today, Mother," he began, trying to make conversation. 

"Did you, son," Edith said, continuing to scrutinize Elizabeth. 

"Yes," Gerard said, his jaw clenching as he saw how ill-at-ease Elizabeth was in the presence of his family. "We had a very lovely day together."

"That's nice, darling," his mother said, smiling thinly. "Where is it you said you were from again, dear?" she asked, piercing Elizabeth with her gaze.

"Syresham, ma'am," Elizabeth said, clasping her hands in front of her and twiddling her thumbs. It was a nervous habit.

"That is quite far out in the country, isn't it, girl?" Maybelle said, jumping into the discussion. 

"Not really, ma'am," Elizabeth said, turning her attention to the older woman. "It is only few hours away from Brackley."

"Just the other day you were teasing me that it was a whole two hours away," Gerard said, smiling down at her and trying to relax her. It worked a bit -- she gave him a small smile.

"Is that where you went, Gerard?" Edith interrupted, now pinning her stare on her son. "You went all the way out there to visit her?"

Gerard bristled at his mother's tone. "That I did, Mother," he answered. His voice took on a tone of its own.

Feeling the palpable strain between mother and son, Elizabeth attempted to defuse the tension. "Whatever it is that is being prepared for dinner smells heavenly, Mrs. St. Claire," she said. 

Edith pursed her lips, exhaling a frustrated breath. "That it does, my dear," she said. Then she stood, calling out, "Henry!"

Henry peeked his head into the parlor, smiling slightly at Elizabeth as she nodded her head in recognition. "Yes, madame," he said. "Dinner is served."

"Well then," Edith said, sweeping out her arm and gesturing toward the hall. "Let us eat!"

*

The dinner proved to be awkward; there had been many silences, though Gerard had been a dear and held Elizabeth's hand underneath the table. 

"Gerard tells us your family sells... wool, is it?" Maybelle asked afterwards, as they had all once again gathered in the parlor for some coffee. 

Elizabeth nodded, carefully setting down her delicately painted china teacup. "Yes, ma'am," she said. "Wool and sheep is how the Winshaws have made their living for the last 150 years."

"How quaint," Edith murmured under her breath, irking Gerard as he set his own teacup down roughly. 

"Mother, may I have a word with you?" he asked through clenched teeth. "You too, Maybelle?"

At this Elizabeth shot out of her chair. "I do believe I'll pay a visit to the washroom..." she muttered as she scurried out of the parlor, Now, if she could only find it...

Waiting until Elizabeth was safely out of the room, Gerard stood to his full height and released the rage that he had been keeping reined in all evening. "What is the matter with you?" he spat at his mother. "For someone who prides herself on 'status,' you can barely manage to be civil!"

"Do not take that tone with me, young man," Edith said, also standing and at this point quite angry. "She is not right for you, and you know it!"

"Your mother is right, boy," Maybelle said. When Gerard turned his incredulous stare to her, she continued. "It is obvious in every way that she would not make a proper wife for you."

"And what do you know about who would make a proper wife for me?" Gerard asked. "You hardly know me at all, it seems!"




How Long Can You Resist Ch. 05



Edith took a breath to calm herself. It hurt her to see her son so upset with her, but she only wanted to do what was best for him. "Darling, believe me, there are far more appropriate women in London for you to consider," she said, trying to soothe him. "Please, do not throw it all away for some frivolous dalliance with an overly eager country girl."

There was a gasp heard in the doorway. Gerard turned just in time to see Elizabeth running through the front door, not bothering to close it behind her.

*

The sky was dark and turbulent, much like Elizabeth. She had come back from the washroom, hoping to discover a less tempestuous scene. What she saw, however, was a bitter fight between mother and son.

And what she had heard had cut her to the quick.

My God, she thinks I'm... that I'm some sort of whore! Elizabeth thought as she fought back tears. Humiliated, all she wanted was to get as far away from Brackley as she possibly could.

She headed toward the back of the house and ran for the stables, her chest constricted with her efforts not to cry. Spying Lucifer, she moved towards him. "Hello, old boy," she greeted him, stroking his nose. "Care to take me home?"

*

Gerard felt his as if his heart was in his throat as he slammed the front door behind him. Ignoring his mother and aunt, who had pleaded with him not to chase after her, he panicked as his eyes combed his surroundings. He was desperate to find Elizabeth. He wanted to talk to her and calm her, to reassure her that he didn't agree with his mother, and that he... that he...

He heard a whinny. Turning his head to the left, he just barely had time to jump out of the way before Lucifer plowed him down. Looking closely, he saw that it was Elizabeth in the saddle, galloping at a neckbreaking speed away from the house.

A look of horror coming to his face, Gerard immediately ran to the stables, saddled up one of the other horses and dug his heels into its side. She's in no condition to be riding, he thought feverishly. His breath caught as he remembered his father's accident. "I won't lose someone else I care about," he said to himself. 

He urged his horse to a faster pace. The chase was on.

*

Elizabeth felt the first drops of rain hit her back just as the first tears trickled down her cheek. How appropriate, she thought morosely. The weather matches my mood.

"Elizabeth!" 

She turned and looked over her shoulder, thinking for a moment that she was hearing things in her hysteria. The sight that greeted her was startling: Gerard had followed her. And, what's more, he was doggedly pursuing her. 

"Elizabeth! Stop!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Please, stop! I beg you!"

"No!" she shouted. "I am not going where I am not wanted!"

Her tears were flowing freely now as she remembered the hurtful things she had heard. If his mother thinks I am a whore, what does Gerard think? she wondered. Am I not good enough? The ache in her chest became unbearable, and she began to sob.

The rain was falling heavily now. It seemed the heavens sobbed with her.

With his rider no longer able to be in control, Lucifer began to slow down. Finally able to catch up, Gerard heard Elizabeth weeping as he drew his horse alongside hers. His heart broke, and he reached out to take the reins from her hands.

She didn't protest. Instead, as the chase came to an end, she looked at him and wept openly. Even with puffy eyes, a dripping nose and her face covered in tears and rainwater, Gerard was hard-pressed to remember a time when he had seen anything so perfect.

"Darling, please do not cry," he murmured as he leaned over to take her in his arms. "Shh, sweet one. It hurts me to see you cry."

Elizabeth's body racked with sobs, and she collapsed into his embrace. Gerard rubbed his hands up and down her back, for she had started shivering. "Say, I know an abandoned barn nearby," he said, hoping his wit would cheer her up. "You remember that barn, yes?"

Elizabeth nodded, still crying. 

"Is it alright if we wait out the rain there?" he asked, still petting her. "It is unfortunate that it always seems to rain when we are together." He waited patiently for her answer, and when she nodded again he dismounted and began to lead both horses in the direction of promised shelter.

*

Having tethered the horses, Gerard turned his attention toward tending to Elizabeth. She had curled up on a small pile of hay, and for the last five minutes or so she had been deathly quiet.

Approaching slowly, Gerard said, "I think it is best if we get you warm, darling. I couldn't live with myself should you get sick."

Elizabeth said nothing, continuing to stare somewhere off into the distance. Gerard sighed, then took a seat near her. "Please, Elizabeth," he said. "Let me take care of you."

"Why do you care?" she said finally, turning her gaze onto him. Her eyes were narrowed and filled with hurt and distrust. "Why did you even follow me? I am not worth your efforts, remember?"

Gerard was taken aback by her sudden vehemence. Clearly she had overheard the conversation between him and his mother; and clearly she believed that he had taken his mother's side.

"I do care, Elizabeth," he said earnestly, trying to take her hand. She refused him, pulling away. 

This caused Gerard's temper to flare. "After such a pleasant day together, you would let the words of a misguided and ignorant woman turn you against me so?" he said. "You would believe the worst of me, despite my having told you otherwise?"

"I do not know what I am supposed to believe!" Elizabeth cried, once again feeling tears prickle at her eyes. She was feeling very confused; she so badly wanted to trust Gerard, for she had truly come to care for him in these past few days. But how could she care for someone whose family thought so little of her?

"Why did you run away, Elizabeth?" Gerard asked softly, again trying to take her hand. This time she allowed it.

"Your mother thinks I am some common wench," she whispered, unable to bring herself to say the words any louder. "And she hates me, and I would not be able to bear it if you began to hate me, too."

Gerard frowned, unable to believe his ears. "My darling, you are no 'common wench'," he said, leaning over her and staring down into her beautiful face. She looked up at him, hurt still evident in her eyes. "Listen to me, sweetheart," he said, cupping her cheek tenderly in his rough hand. "There is nothing 'common' about you. You are exquisite."

Elizabeth relaxed against his hand, feeling as if the fist that had been clenched around her heart suddenly let go. "Really?" she asked.

"Yes, really," Gerard answered, smiling a bit as he bent to kiss her cheek. "I could never hate you. You make me feel alive," he said, brushing the remaining tears from her face. 

"I do?" Elizabeth asked, feeling breathless in this close proximity to him. 

"Yes," Gerard answered, his voice gravelly and deep."You make me laugh," he added, kissing each of her eyelids. 

"You find me amusing?" Elizabeth whispered, unable to make her voice work properly. She was lost in the darkness of his eyes -- they consumed her, and she felt a molten heat begin to flow and pool between her thighs.

"I do," Gerard whispered. "And you know what else?"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"You make me want to take care of you and protect you," he said. Finally, he lowered his head and touched his lips to hers.

Elizabeth groaned on contact, provoking an answering groan from Gerard. She felt his hot tongue slip between her lips, dancing with hers and making her dizzy with desire. Her entire body hummed with pleasure, and she wrapped her arms around Gerard's neck, pulling him tighter against her.

Gerard, too, felt as if he were on fire. The delicate lilac perfume that he smelled whenever he was near her enveloped him and filled his senses, making him heady and lustful. She tasted so sweet, and he deepened the kiss in an attempt to taste even more. Elizabeth was in quite a form tonight, he thought, as she returned his kisses with as much fervor as he gave them.

Using his thigh to push her legs apart, Gerard cradled himself there, his rigid cock rubbing impatiently against her mound. At this Elizabeth's eyes sprang open, surprise and a bit of fear evident in their cerulean depths. Gerard, feeling her tense, stopped what he was doing and brought his hands to her face, stroking her gently. "It's alright, love," he said. "I will not do anything you aren't ready for."

Elizabeth held his gaze for but a moment before she was reassured that he meant what he said. Giving a small nod, she closed her eyes once more and brought her mouth up to meet his. 

Gerard accepted her soft lips wholeheartedly, imitating with his tongue an act he wanted so desperately to commit with the rest of his body. I must get control of myself, he scolded himself. I don't want to scare her.

The world had been turned on its end, it seemed. Elizabeth was lost amid rolling waves of pleasure. She had never before been in such a situation with a man, and she didn't understand all of the feelings rushing through her, but she knew enough to know that she had never felt this good in her life.

Gerard pulled away, breaking the kiss and leaving Elizabeth to pout. Chuckling at her charming moue, he said, "Don't worry, sweetheart. I am not done with you yet." 

Elizabeth felt doubt creep into her mind as she focused on that one word: "yet." 

"What do you mean, you are not done with me 'yet'?" she asked, nervousness beginning to take the place of desire. 

"Do you trust me?" Gerard asked, tracing a finger down the bodice of her gown, then toying with the top button. 

Elizabeth paused, seriously mulling over the question. Gerard was nothing but sweet to her. "Er... yes, Gerard, I do trust you," she stammered, starting to feel short of breath as he undid the top button and moved to the second. "But..."

"Shh, dear one," Gerard said, bringing his finger to her lips to quiet her. "That is all I needed to know." He resumed with the unbuttoning of her gown, stopping when he reached her navel. Pushing apart the fabric, he felt Elizabeth start to quiver. 

"You are so lovely, Elizabeth," he whispered. He gently moved his hand under the bodice of her dress, feeling the threadbare shift she wore beneath it. "So soft, and so warm," he moaned as his hand finally reached its destination and wrapped itself around the plush curve of her left breast.

Elizabeth inhaled sharply as Gerard's thumb brushed over her already hard nipple. Goosebumps popped up along her fair skin, and she closed her eyes as she was overwhelmed by what she was feeling. "Gerard," she whimpered, clutching at his arms. "What are you doing to me?"

"Showing you how much I care for you," Gerard said as he left the warmth of her breasts and moved down her body to the end of her skirt. He lifted an ankle, admiring how delicate it was in his large hand. Go slowly, he reminded himself as he began to move his hands beneath her skirt and over her shapely calves.

Elizabeth gasped. It seemed that everywhere Gerard touched went up in flames. "Gerard?" she managed to squeak, as she felt his rough palms reach her silken inner thighs.

"Yes?" he answered, barely maintaining his composure. She's like an angel, he thought, biting his lower lip in agony as he fought to keep himself under control.

"I feel... strange," she said, looking at him worriedly. 

"Strange?" Gerard asked, focusing on the goodly amount of leg he had just bared to his eyes. Her legs were as comely as the rest of her, and he found himself wondering what it would feel like to have them wrapped around him as he poured himself into her.

"Yes, very strange," Elizabeth said, her hand coming to rest on her stomach. "I feel so... tight... in here."

"Hmm," Gerard murmured, pushing her skirt and shift up to her waist and adjusting so that his face was nearer to her source of heat. Her mound was lovely, covered in a soft tuft of dark hair and glistening with arousal in the faint light. Gerard inhaled her musky scent, and he shuddered with a desire so strong that he nearly couldn't contain it. 

Elizabeth flushed with embarrassment, trying to close her legs to prevent him from staring at her most private parts. But Gerard was having none of it -- he held her thighs apart with his hands, and she could feel his hot breath ruffling her hair. She felt more wetness pool there, and knew Gerard could see it when she heard his muffled groan.

"You are even beautiful down here," he said. Unable to resist any longer, he touched his tongue to the weeping opening and took a taste.

Elizabeth's hips bucked up off the ground as she felt his tongue on her. "Good God!" she cursed, causing Gerard to chuckle against her. Encouraged, he began to lick her with more ardor, drinking in the juices she was spilling. 

Waves of pleasurable sensations broke over Elizabeth, and instinctively she rocked her hips up in an effort to meet his mouth. Unable to keep still, she thrashed about in delight as Gerard continued to lave her with his tongue.

A thrill of satisfaction ran through Gerard as he watched Elizabeth writhe and moan. Obviously she was enjoying herself; to be the one bringing her to such heights gave Gerard a sense of pride he'd never felt before. Trying his best to hold her in place, he traced lazy circles over her clit, groaning as the small bud hardened on his tongue. 

"Oh, Gerard," Elizabeth soughed, reaching down and threading her fingers in his thick black hair. "Something is about to happen!" She felt so tightly wound, like she was going to snap at any moment.

"Is it?" Gerard said, blowing cool air on her swollen nub, then taking it fully into his mouth. 

"Yes!" Elizabeth fairly screeched, grinding her snatch furiously against his face.

"Well then," Gerard mumbled, trying to get his words out despite how difficult she was making it. "Allow me to make it happen, love." And with that he inserted a finger into her as far as it could go.

Elizabeth's jaw fell slack as Gerard began to simultaneously lick her and move his finger in and out of her gently. She could hear the wet sounds it made, and it pushed her over the edge. 

"Gerard!" she cried, unconsciously driving herself down onto his finger as colors exploded behind her eyes. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering as the orgasm -- her very first -- washed over her. 

Gerard moaned as he felt the warm walls clamp and clench around his finger. He came to a stop slowly, wanting to prolong her pleasure. He also wanted to thrust himself into her until they both passed out from exhaustion, but he ignored that to the best of his abilities. What mattered most to him was that Elizabeth had this moment, and that he was able to give it to her. 

Pulling down Elizabeth's skirt, Gerard dropped a kiss on her ankle. Then he repositioned himself so that he was laying next to her, and he held her as she came down from her high. "How was that, darling?" he whispered in her ear, kissing her earlobe and holding her tighter.

"Oh, Gerard, that was wonderful," Elizabeth sighed, turning her head to look at him. Gerard's breath caught at the affection he saw in her eyes, and a wave of tenderness consumed him as he tucked her head beneath his chin.

"I care about you very much, Elizabeth," Gerard said quietly, surprised at himself for saying it out loud. "Please believe me when I say that."

"Mmm hmm," Elizabeth muttered sleepily, curling up into Gerard and pressing her body against his.

"You believe me?" Gerard prodded. Her answer was important to him. He needed to hear her say it.

"Yes, I believe you," she said into his chest. "I care about you very much, too." And with that she drifted off to sleep, snoring softly.

Gerard kept his arms around her, feeling protective and caring and a whole slew of emotions he had never felt before. In the distance he heard thunder rolling; he resigned himself to the fact that safest thing was for them to spend the night in the barn.  

Sighing, Gerard closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep. But in his heart of hearts, as he held Elizabeth, he knew that sleep would be a long time coming. 



How Long Can You Resist Ch. 06



Author's note: I have been overwhelmed with emails pleading with me to continue with this story. I apologize for taking so long to write this next chapter in Elizabeth and Gerard's story. I hope you enjoy it, and all your votes and feedback are appreciated.

*

Elizabeth awoke, finding herself tucked snugly up against Gerard's chest with her back to his still sleeping form. His left arm lay underneath her head. The other arm was slung over her waist, and he snored gently in her ear.

The light streaming into the barn was gray, indicating that it had to be early morning. Sighing contentedly, Elizabeth's thoughts turned to the events of yesterday. She frowned as she remembered the disastrous dinner; her stomach turned at the memory of Mrs. St. Claire's hurtful words. 

But then her mind drifted to Gerard, and what he had done to her, for her last night -- she had never felt so wonderful in her life. She blushed thinking about it, and snuggled back against Gerard happily.

Gerard started awake at the feeling of Elizabeth's warm, womanly bottom pressing against him so intimately. His nether region also awoke, and Gerard was embarrassed as it rose to greet Elizabeth so eagerly.

"Oh," Elizabeth murmured, feeling something poking her. 

"I apologize, sweetest," Gerard said quietly. "But when you do that, how could I react any other way?"

Elizabeth smiled shyly, turning even more pink. "I am not saying I mind, Gerard," she said, biting her lip at her boldness.

Gerard's eyebrows rose, and a sly grin spread across his face. "Someone's feeling saucy this morning," he said, wrapping his arm more tightly around her. He was rewarded by her sigh of satisfaction. He buried his nose in her dark tresses, breathing deeply and enjoying her scent.

"It must be your influence," Elizabeth replied, unable to control her smile. She felt a familiar fluttering in her belly, and a warmth was slowly building between her legs. She pressed her thighs together in an unconscious attempt to relieve the pressure, and couldn't repress the soft moan that issued from her lips.

The sound did not escape Gerard's attention; a surge of pleasure shot through him, his cock becoming even more rigid as it now pressed against her back. "I would have to agree," Gerard said huskily, rising above her and cradling her face in his hands. "Forgive me, if I have been bad."

He bent his head and captured her mouth, pent up passion rushing forth and breaking his former resolve to take things slowly. He groaned as Elizabeth's tongue swept experimentally across his bottom lip, and his fingers tangled in her hair as he pressed himself even more closely to her.

Elizabeth's head was swimming. She had never seen this side of Gerard before -- he was kissing her without abandon, his hands wild as his hips began to move against her. Where before she had been timid, she was now daring; her hands roamed across his broad back, and she arched up, pushing her breasts against Gerard's front. She filled with joy as she was graced with his moans of pleasure.

Gerard was surprised by Elizabeth's actions -- gone was the apprehensive girl who had been shy with her kisses. In her place was a wild woman, as eager and willing to show her enthusiasm as he was. The ache that had been so concentrated in his groin was now suffusing his entire body, and he groaned against her mouth as he captured a breast in his hand.

Elizabeth gasped at the touch, Gerard's thumb brushing against the hardened nipple that strained through the fabric of her dress. "Undress me," she murmured, her cheeks reddening as she met his gaze.

Gerard paused, staring hard at Elizabeth. For a moment she was afraid he would reject her; she looked away, unable to maintain eye contact under his fevered stare.

"Are you sure, darling?" Gerard asked softly, taking her chin in his hand and turning her face back toward him. "Because if this goes much further, I do not know if I will be able to stop."

It was Elizabeth's turn to stare. She looked up into Gerard's handsome face, his eyebrows furrowed with concern as he studied her. His smoky eyes seemed to reflect all the things she was feeling: desire, hunger, and need. But then there was something else -- something tender, something moving that threatened to unnerve her if she focused on it for too long. Before she could change her mind, she nodded. "Yes, I am sure," she said, closing her eyes. "Please, Gerard. Undress me."

Gerard took a shaky breath as he helped Elizabeth sit up. His hands trembled as he reached for the top button of her gown. He silently admonished himself for his nervousness; he had been with plenty of women, but somehow Elizabeth shook his confidence. He wanted so badly for her to enjoy this.

He was jerked out of his thoughts at the sound of Elizabeth's anxious giggle. "Are you having trouble?" she teased quietly, looking down to see Gerard still struggling with the second button.

Gerard exhaled on a laugh, relaxing a bit at the sight of Elizabeth smiling. "Yes, it seems that I am, my lady," he said, letting go of the button and raking his hands through her shining hair. "Perhaps you would have better luck?"

Elizabeth smirked as she began to undo the buttons. "I do not suppose dresses are a man's area of expertise, after all," she said, her own hands quavering a little as she pushed the gown from her shoulders.

Gerard's eyes took in the creamy texture of her skin as he watched her russet dress slide down to her waist. The lacy shift she wore underneath revealed an expanse of smooth cleavage, and the rosy color of her nipples was evident beneath the thin cloth.

"My God, you are beautiful," Gerard breathed, reaching out to stroke his fingers across her skin. He watched goose flesh spread where he had touched, and smiled as he noted her small shiver. "I believe I can take it from here, sweetest."

His lack of confidence replaced with a strong desire to see the rest of her, Gerard leaned forward and pulled the dress over the swell of her hips and down her legs. He caressed her slim ankles as he threw the clothing behind him, chuckling lowly as Elizabeth said in dismay, "Oh, it's landed in the dirt!"

"Please, darling, do not let that distract you," Gerard chided, his hands sliding up her calves and dragging the shift along with them. Inch by inch, her ivory skin was displayed: her shapely legs, her silken thighs, then the dark patch of hair that covered her woman's mound.

"You're even more lovely in the daylight," Gerard whispered, his breath stirring the curls that shimmered with Elizabeth's arousal. She moaned, her legs closing around him and cradling him to her apex.

Gerard's senses were filled with her musky scent, and he very nearly finished in his pants. "Elizabeth," he rasped, prying her legs from around him. "If you keep that up, this will be over far too early for either of us to be truly satisfied."

His hands continued their journey, pushing the shift above her waist until, finally, his eyes were finally able to take in her breasts. They were lush and round, perfect handfuls, topped with small erect nipples the color of cinnamon.

Elizabeth was breathing heavily, her mind in a heady daze. She quivered at his ministrations, feeling moisture gather between her legs. Her nipples tightened even more beneath his gaze, and she shuddered at the look of lust that had come across his face.

Taking a firm breast in one hand, Gerard thumbed her nipple, delighting in her gasps of pleasure. He lowered his head to the other breast, his tongue coming out to gently swipe across it.

"Gerard!" Elizabeth gushed, her hips rising of their own volition as he worked his tongue over her nipple. She held his head to her, her fingers threading in his hair.

"I can see you enjoy this," Gerard said hoarsely, consumed by the fire that emanated from his manhood. He moved to the other nipple, laving it and flicking it, his eyes intent upon Elizabeth's face as she flushed and writhed with the stimulation.

Unable to take it any longer, Gerard sat up suddenly, leaving Elizabeth feeling bereft. She attempted to catch her breath as she watched him peel his clothes off, obviously eager to get back to touching her. She admired the broadness of his shoulders, the golden hue of his skin. A smattering of black hair covered his chest, running down his belly and into his breeches.

Her eyes widened as he pushed his pants down his legs and his erection sprang forward. "That will never fit," she said immediately, uneasy because it seemed rather large. She blushed furiously as Gerard laughed at her. "It won't!" she argued, pouting as he laughed harder.

"Trust me, dear one," he assured her, pushing her down gently and positioning himself between her thighs. "It will fit."

Gerard used a hand to guide his cock to her entrance, rubbing it over her juices and eliciting heated moans. "This will hurt a little," he warned, leaning down and resting his hand against her cheek. "I will try to be gentle, but I want you so badly it will be hard."

Elizabeth took a deep breath, looking Gerard in the eye and feeling her heart skip at the adoration she saw there. "I'm ready," she breathed, placing her arms around his neck to steel herself.

Gerard pushed forward, the head of his shaft spreading her apart ever so slightly. He paused at Elizabeth's sharp intake of breath. "Does it hurt badly, darling?" he asked, fighting the urge to bury himself inside her heat.

"A little," she admitted, wincing at the burning sensation radiating from her sex. 

"I will go slowly," Gerard said, bending down to place a kiss on her pink lips. She responded ardently, her hot tongue pushing past his lips and into his mouth. Startled, but immensely aroused, Gerard kissed her with urgency, his hips pushing forward another inch.

"Oh," Elizabeth groaned as she was stretched around him. 

"Alright, sweetheart," Gerard murmured, brushing her hair out of her face. His shaft was pressing against the thin membrane that marked her purity. "I'll have to do this quickly, otherwise it will hurt even more." 

With that he surged into her, breaking the tissue and causing Elizabeth to cry out in pain. Tears sprang to her azure eyes, and she bit her lip as she willed the pain to subside.

"Shh, darling," Gerard said, stilling himself and allowing her to acclimate to him. "The worst is over, it will feel good from now on. I promise."

Elizabeth nodded, the discomfort already fading as she began to feel full. "It does not hurt anymore," she said, smiling softly up at Gerard.

"Thank God," Gerard replied, leaning down to kiss her once more as his hips began a steady rhythm between her legs. She was so tight and warm, and he knew it wouldn't be long before he was ready to finish. Wanting Elizabeth feel good as well, he reached between them and rubbed his thumb against the small button of nerves he knew would push her over the edge.

"Oh, Gerard," Elizabeth whimpered, the tension in her quim becoming almost unbearable. Rising to meet his every thrust, she felt the tension begin to release violently. "Gerard, it's happening again!" she cried, grasping his arms as she closed her eyes against the intense pleasure.

Gerard smiled darkly, amused by her reference to the previous night's escapade. He gritted his teeth as she clenched around him, drawing him further into her warmth. Thrusting wildly, he let loose a growl as he emptied himself deep inside her.

Collapsing on top of her, his body racked with the tremors of his orgasm, he found her lips and kissed her lovingly. Elizabeth wrapped her arms tightly around him, able to feel the thud of his heart at this close proximity. 

Gerard summoned the strength to push off of her, rising on his arms to look down at the little minx who had stolen his heart. "I think I'm falling in love with you, Elizabeth Winshaw," he said, the earnestness of his expression nearly taking Elizabeth's breath away.

"You are?" she asked, unable to believe that Gerard felt that strongly about her.

"Yes," he answered, rolling off her and pulling her along with him so that she was nestled against his side. "I can't get enough of you."

Elizabeth frowned, her small hand resting over his heart and her thoughts whirring in her head. Do I feel the same way? she wondered, examining her feelings for this man. She knew that the sight of him melted her; the sound of his voice thrilled her; and the way he teased her and defended her touched her to the core.

Gerard stole a glance at Elizabeth, noting the frown that marred her beautiful features. His heart faltered. "It is alright if you don't feel the same way," he said quickly, the hurt that flashed across his face not unnoticed by Elizabeth. "I just wanted you to know how I felt."

He started to sit up. Elizabeth reached up to stop him, pulling at him so he was forced to look back at her. "I do feel the same way," she said, relieved when he broke into a wide smile.

"You do?" he asked, echoing her words.

Elizabeth laughed. "Yes, I do," she said, tugging him down toward her as she raised her mouth for a kiss.

It began sweetly, but quickly boiled over into a heated tangle of limbs. Gerard broke away, grinning at her moan of discontent. "Do not mistake me, dear one," he panted, stroking her face. "I would make love to you all day in this barn if I could, but if I don't return you to your parents within the hour they will have my hide, and rightly so."

Elizabeth sighed, seeing the reason in his words. "They are probably worried sick already," she said, allowing Gerard to help her stand. Walking over to pick up her shift and gown, she added, "They may have your hide yet."

Gerard chuckled as he dressed. "I'm sure all will be well once they realize it was unsafe for you to travel in last night's storm." Coming up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled his mouth against her neck. "But I must say, I've never been more thankful for a storm in my life."

Elizabeth sank back against him, pausing in the buttoning of her dress. "I am thankful for barns, myself," she said, causing Gerard to laugh heartily. 

After saddling up Lucifer, Gerard helped Elizabeth mount before jumping astride the other horse. "Allow me to escort you home, my lady," he said gallantly, bowing his head.

Elizabeth giggled. "As you wish, kind sir," she replied, and she couldn't stop smiling as they left the barn and headed for Syresham.

*

As they approached the Winshaws' house, Elizabeth spied her mother peeking through the kitchen window. The panicked look on the older woman's face unsettled Elizabeth; something was wrong, she could feel it.

"Where have you been, young lady?" 

Mr. Winshaw strode out of the barn, his features stormy and angrier than Elizabeth had ever seen. He marched over to Lucifer, and grabbing his daughter by the hand, attempted to pull her roughly off the horse.

"Papa!" Elizabeth cried, startled by her father's out-of-character actions. 

"Sir, if you will allow me to explain," Gerard began, hoping to temper the situation before it got any worse.

Mr. Winshaw let go of Elizabeth's wrist and rounded on him. "I will speak to you about this shortly, boy," he snarled. "Get off that horse, Elizabeth, now!"

Elizabeth shot a look of trepidation at Gerard and complied with her father's demand. "Father, please, I know you must be angry because I did not come home last night..." she started.

"Your brother was in an accident," Mr. Winshaw growled, the look in his eyes mutinous. 

Elizabeth felt the color drain from her face as her heart seemed to come to a stop within her chest. "What?" she whispered, her shaking hand rising to clasp at her throat.

"The storm scared the horses and they ran off the road," her father continued, finally looking away from Elizabeth and pacing in front of her. "And you were not there! You know he's too young to fully control those beasts!" he shouted, wheeling around and pointing an accusing finger at her. 

"Papa, I..." Elizabeth said, unable to form a coherent thought. Her mind was racing -- this is all my fault, she thought, horrified. What have I done?

"Sir," Gerard said quietly. Elizabeth's head jerked up; she had forgotten he was still there. "Is Teddy alright?"

Mr. Winshaw stared up at him, his jaw clenching. "He has a broken arm and some bruises," he ground out. "Had to ride out in the middle of the night fetch a doctor, the good Lord knows that cost a fair amount."

Tears spilled from Elizabeth's eyes as she went to her father. She grasped for his hand, clutching it to her. "Papa," she sobbed, "oh Papa, I will never forgive myself!" 

Mr. Winshaw studied his daughter's face, seemingly unmoved by her open weeping. "Where were you last night, Elizabeth?" he asked quietly.

"She stayed at my house, sir," Gerard answered for her. "My mother invited her for dinner, and I could not allow her to make her way home in that storm." 

He dismounted and approached the man carefully, not wanting to upset him further. "Please, sir, no blame lies with Elizabeth. This was entirely my fault. I am the one who convinced her to allow Teddy to travel alone."

Mr. Winshaw nodded, taking his hand from Elizabeth's and moving closer to Gerard so they were standing face to face. Though he was several inches taller, Gerard had never felt more intimidated.

"You are not to see my daughter again, do you understand me?" Mr. Winshaw said, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Not waiting for Gerard to respond, he added, "Get off my property."

He then turned and strode back into the house, not looking back.

Gerard stood silently, feeling as though a heavy weight had settled permanently in his stomach. He waited until the front door was shut before he advanced toward the sobbing Elizabeth. "Darling, please," he said, his voice cracking with the emotion he was trying with difficulty to keep at bay. "I am so sorry for all this."

Elizabeth whirled around, slapping Gerard soundly across the face. "Look what you have done!" she screeched, ignoring the look of shock on Gerard's face. "You have been nothing but trouble since I met you!"

Gerard winced at the hateful words. "You are upset, Elizabeth, and rightly so," he murmured, trying to touch her cheek. She slapped it away. "You heard my father," she muttered, wiping the tears from her face and making an effort to look stern. "Leave here."

Gerard took a step forward, his heart wrenching as she stepped back and away from him. "Please," he begged, his voice plaintive. "Elizabeth, do you really want me to leave? I love you!"

Elizabeth looked Gerard squarely in the eye. "I do not ever want to see you again," she said. "Please, just go." She turned from him then, and walked toward the house.

Gerard watched her, feeling her each step away from him as though she were kicking him in the gut. Unable to gather the courage to chase after her, he mounted Lucifer and, trailing the other horse behind him, galloped back to his mother and aunt. 

*

Elizabeth choked back her sobs as she walked towards the house, listening to Gerard ride out of her life. It's for the best, her mind reasoned. He would only cause more trouble if he stayed.

But the tears would not stop. Once she was inside the house, she sank down in one of the kitchen chairs and laid her head in her arms. She continued to cry, her shoulders shaking with the force of her misery. 

She had been a fool to be so easily charmed by Gerard St. Claire. All it took was a smile, and she had allowed him to talk her into sending Teddy home alone. A kiss, and she stayed the night with him in a barn.

Elizabeth cried harder as she remembered their tryst, hating herself for longing to feel his caress even now. She simply could not allow him to be in her life, not when she had very nearly lost her brother because of it.




How Long Can You Resist Ch. 06



Standing and wiping her tears on the sleeve of her gown, she walked up the stairs and knocked on Theodore's door. "Come in," Mrs. Winshaw's voice called out weakly.

Intense guilt swept over Elizabeth when she saw how small Teddy looked, lying unconscious in his bed with his arm in a sling. Their mother was sitting beside him on a short wooden stool, stroking his hair and looking at Elizabeth worriedly.

"I am so sorry for what happened to him, Mama," Elizabeth said faintly, afraid to have her mother lash out at her. She had already withstood her father's anger; she didn't know if she could take another blow.

"Why did you let him go off alone, Lizzie?" Mrs. Winshaw asked softly, her eyes searching her daughter's.

"It was stupid of me, Mama," Elizabeth said, looking at her feet as her face heated with shame. Wiping angrily at the tears that stung her eyelids, she continued, "I allowed Mr. St. Claire to convince me it was alright, and..." Not able to continue, she simply met her mother's gaze and stood in the doorway.

Mrs. Winshaw stood and walked quickly toward Elizabeth, enveloping her in her arms and hugging her tightly. "Yes, it was stupid, dear girl," she admonished, holding Elizabeth at arm's length. "Your father and I were worried sick when you two didn't return!"

Elizabeth nodded, her voice failing her.

"Your father went out to look for you," Mrs. Winshaw went on. "He came upon the accident." Her voice cracked, her emotion evident in her tone. "We thought you had both... been killed."

Elizabeth nodded again, angry at herself for causing so much pain to her family. "I do not know what to say, Mama," she croaked.

"When he didn't find you, we thought you had been kidnapped, or had disappeared," Mrs. Winshaw whispered, pulling Elizabeth close to her once again. "I am just so thankful you are both safe now."

Elizabeth clung to her mother, crying into her comforting shoulder. "I will make things right again, Mama," she swore, sniffling. 

And I will start by forgetting Gerard St. Claire, she promised herself silently.

*

"Gerard?"

Henry stuck his head into the dim hallway, having heard a noise. "Is that you, young master?"

Gerard removed his coat and hung it in the closet. "Yes, Henry," he replied, raising his head to look at the butler. "Where is Mother?"

Henry was startled by the look of immense sadness in his master's eyes. He hadn't seen such sadness since the death of the elder Mr. St. Claire.

"She is upstairs," he said. "Shall I call her down for you, sir?"

Gerard shook his head. "No, Henry, thank you," he said, turning and starting up the steep stairs. 

During the climb, Gerard tried to gather his thoughts. It was as though a vise was clamped around his insides; Elizabeth's dismissal echoed in his head as the image of her distraught face seared his brain. His hand gripped the railing as he pushed his ebony hair out of his face. Every muscle in his body was tensed. He made up his mind what he was going to say to his mother.

Knocking on her door, he didn't bother to wait for a response before he opened it. "Gerard!" Mrs. St. Claire said, startled. She was sitting at the writing desk, the pen poised above a piece of paper. "Where have you been, young man?"

"You are right, Mother," Gerard said abruptly, not in the mood to listen to one of her lectures. "It is time to return to London."

Mrs. St. Claire's eyebrows rose, indicating her surprise at his sudden change of mind. "What about... that girl?" she asked, watching her son closely.

"It has become evident to me that she and I were not meant for each other," Gerard replied stoically, not wanting to show the agony he felt as he heard the words exit his mouth. 

His mother didn't miss the struggle in his eyes; she knew he was not telling her the entire truth. She chose not to pry. "Alright, son," she said, turning back to her letter. "We can leave tomorrow, if you would like."

Gerard turned to stalk out of the room. "The sooner the better," he said over his shoulder, leaving his mother to wonder at the depression that had stolen over her son so completely.