#enamoured with eleanor

[cinnamoodles]

what are ur favorite anthony bridgerton five

hi! i'm assuming this says fics, and i am SO HONOURED that you trust me to recommend my favourite fics to you!

first up… the amazing and fantastic @fayes-fics, one of THE MOST skilled writers alive. she never misses!

some of my personal favs from her are:

➥ a beneficial arrangement [ ⭐️ ]

a marriage pact with a viscount. what could possibly go wrong?

➥ rescue and ruin

anthony rescues something for you… and it will likely lead to your ruin.

➥ the friends+ series

modern AU. series of fics that feature anthony & journalist!reader’s burgeoning relationship.

those are just a few of my favorites, but READ HER ENTIRE MASTERLIST! you will not regret it, promise.

secondly, a series of fics by the wonderfully talented @rubysunnday, and once again, be sure to read all of her masterlist!

➥ take my hand

as much as y/n appreciates anthony’s matchmaking efforts, it’s hard to accept them when he’s the only man she wants. luckily for her, a fall in the lake allows her to voice her feelings in more ways than one

➥ a long, long time

y/n has waited a long, long time for anthony bridgerton to finally decide to get married. but by the time he finally decides to find a wife, y/n has run out of time and anthony is suddenly faced with losing her to someone else.

➥ it’s a bad idea, me and you [ ⭐️ ]

y/n was ready to give her entire heart to anthony bridgerton. only for him to shove her aside in favour for sienna rosso. but, now, sienna is gone and despite what y/n keeps telling herself - anthony truly does own her heart.

now, for the queen of the modern!anthony au, @eleanor-bradstreet! some of my favorites from her are…

➥ gala

you attend a charity gala with your boss who really is too much trouble in a tux.

➥ locked out

when you find yourselves locked out of your house in the middle of the night, anthony has some ideas for how you can kill time.

➥ take me instead [ ⭐️ ]

you and anthony find yourselves in the middle of a bank robbery on an ill-fated day.

next we have @colettebronte, BRIDGERTON SMUT AUNTIE HERSELF WOOO!

(warning, these fics are VERY mature, and include BDSM and other possibly triggering material).

➥ rise and breathe

newly arrived back in london after a long journey across the mediterranean sea, you encounter a pathetically drunk viscount bridgerton the night he is rejected by sienna rosso. after a sobering morning on all counts, you sense that he is indeed lost and in need of a new purpose and direction. through submission and service, he may just find it.

➥ what (who) are you doing on new year’s eve?

a mysterious benefactor invites you to ring in the New Year with them.

➥ kinktober day ten: blindfolded

your tenth evening with your client. day ten for kinktober. I’m going with two prompts tonight, blindfolded and massage.

finally, we have some individual fics that stole my heart.

➥ diamonds and pearls by @multiharlot

diamonds and pearls do not make up for the lack of love in your marriage.

➥ enamoured by @dreamwritesimagines

everything you heard about matters of heart and desire told you the same thing; love could lead to heartbreak at best and disastrous results at worst. yet, you were convinced that everyone was wrong. they had to be, because love was supposed to make everyone happier, no confusion or pain in sight. regardless of how naive it sounded, you were sure that you were ready to fall in love and lose yourself in the infamous bliss. that assumption right there was a terrible mistake, though. you were nowhere near ready.

➥ right person, all the wrong times by @wwinterwitch

you and anthony have been in love with one another from the moment you met, but it seems as though nothing will ever happen between you. after you catch the attention of another gentleman, he realizes perhaps it's time to finally do something about his feelings.

➥ right in front of me by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

the only way he could rationally find a suitable wife was by removing love from the equation all together. courtship was game of jumping through hoops he really did not want to play, and he was a viscount. surely there would be a father with a more than suitable daughter he could simply ask for your hand and get it. or the one where your arranged marriage with anthony bridgerton isn’t a loving marriage… until it is.

➥ melt away by @healmydesires

the night you give your love and body to your husband.

➥ sham, pride, and illicit affairs by @peeterparkr

or, the story of how you rejected his proposal because you once loved him.

➥ enchanted by @imthebadguyyy

you and anthony don’t need words to converse.

➥ better man by @midnightfictionlibrary

anthony must rectify his rakish ways and wed, but he has a lot to think over if he doesn’t want to lose his dearest friend forever. 

➥ no longer in denial by @iwritefandomimagines

anthony has made no secret of not wanting to marry, despite it being more than clear that he is head over heels in love with you, his “best friend”. benedict decides he is fed up of anthony’s denial, and takes matters into his own hands — by inciting jealousy from his older brother.

➥ the language of flowers by @cinnamoodles (shameless self plug)

you and anthony have been friends for as long as you can remember, but what happens when his world turns upside down? will he open his heart and let the woman silently pining for him in?

AHH ok that was it, and these are the bridgerton fics i love with all of my soul. thank you so much for your ask, it was so nice to see all these wonderful fics again.

xo, lottie !

[starlightsuffered]

Hate Fuck

Info - enemies, hate fuck, a little cnc, clothes breaking, cocky Timothée, insults during sex, legs not working from a good fuck, unprotected sex

I was so sick of hearing all about Timothée. Timothée this and Timothée that. So he'd landed a small role in a movie. He wasn't a star or anything.

Eleanor only wanted him along because she was ga ga for him. Her brother Henry was as well. Then there was Violet, Mary, and Harry. We'd all been friends since little up. Henry and Elenor were newer to our group and had brought Timothée into it.

Timothée had been like a shiny toy to the lot of them. I used to be the one they followed and admired. I used to be the one to make them laugh. Now everything was about that bastard of a show off Timothée Chalamet.

We had all scraped our money together to go on a trip to Florida and bask in the heat and beauty. It had taken a lot of work and planning but we'd managed it. At the absolute last moment Timothée had waltzed in and asked if he could go.

Everyone had voted yes except for me. It made me so mad that I had saved for SO long to help pay and he had just grabbed a wad of bills from his pocket. I fucking hated him.

The night felt long and I never slept well in hotels. I decided that I would make use of the out door pool. Perhaps the exercise would make my anger decrease.

The whole flight I'd had to listen to Timothée talk about his time on the movie set. As he spoke Eleanor gushed. I was sat beside Henry and he kept turning back to listen and comment since he was also enamoured with Timothée.

I had a migraine by the time we landed. Timothée had also be elected to choose where we ate that night.

Apparently, since he was part French, he would have better taste than us.

It felt like he was possessing my friends and I was sick of it. At least this swim would be Timothée free. I grabbed my towel and bathing suit. I headed into the bathroom and gasped in annoyance.

I thought for sure l'd packed my new bikini. However, in my hand was my old one. They were both pink, so l must've grabbed the wrong one. This one had clips that easily fell apart and my boobs had grown a bit so that there was a worry about them falling out.

I sighed. I'd have to buy a new suit when we went shopping tomorrow. This would do for now. It wasn't as if anyone else would be out there.

I walked the cold hallways, the ac was always blasting. It was like a blanket of humidity was thrown on me as I exited the hotel. I gasped as the heat hit me. The short walk to the pool had me swearing,

I jumped into the cool water. It soothed my heat prickled skin. I felt calm under the quiet surface. I could finally forget Timothée even existed. All would be right in my world.

SPLASH!

Someone jumped into the pool. I wanted to scream. Of course my nice midnight swim had to be ruined by someone. When I came up and saw who it was I wanted to scream again.

Timothée stood there with dripping curls and a smirk. I hated that he looked godlike in this lighting. His high cheekbones and perfect bone structure. It would be a hell of a lot easier if my arch nemesis was ugly.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded.

"Taking a swim," he offered as he leisurely paddled.

"It's midnight!" I shot back.

"You're here," he said blandly. I couldn't deny he was right. I put my hands on my hips and took deep breathes to calm myself.

"You know the world doesn't belong to you y/n. I can go places. I can make friends. I can come on trips. I can go swimming. I can-"

We both flinches as the clasp on my bikini top sprung open. My breasts fell out heavily. I would double D bras so there was a lot on display. Timothée's eyes were right on my nipples. I was too stunned to cover myself.

Suddenly, everything changed from slow and stagnant to fast. Timothée moved towards me. He was feeling me up and kissing me. I'd never felt such electricity. No one had handled my tits the way he did. The perfection in the way he squeezed, the way he rolled the nipples, the way he shuddered into my mouth.

"What are you doing?" l asked, but I didn't stop him.

"Kissing you, feeling you, worshiping your perfect body. It's all l've wanted to do since I first met you," he groaned. He pressed against me and I gasped. He was rock hard in his trunks and he felt big.

"Y-you hate me," I stuttered as one of his hands reached around to my ass. It all felt so good. Perhaps he deserved to brag and eloat if he could make someone feel like this.

"No, you hate me., I adore you," he professed.

"Well you're a pompous idiot, always showing off and-"

He grabbed my jaw and looked into my eyes. He looked filled with lust, like someone on the brink. He was pulling against restraints that would break any moment. Then, in the most surprising and gentle movement he leaned forward and placed a sweet kiss on my lips. It left me breathless and needing more.

"Why do you think I show off?" He asked me quietly, and then his long fingers were hooked in my bottoms. "Why do you think I brag and big myself up? Why do you think I mention only my best qualities and abilities?"

"Because, ohhhhh," I cut myself off as my bottoms were pulled all the way down. His large hands left me for a moment. I knew he was pulling his dick free and I couldn't imagine why I wasn't stopping him.

"To feed your own ego. To sound important. To make everyone obsessed with you," I snapped.

"No," he shook his head. I keened when his thick head pressed at my entrance. I could tell he would hit my g spot without even trying. He was so big. My clit throbbed. I hadn't been fucked well in so long.

"For you," he said as he pushed his head in. I grabbed wildly at his biceps.

"All for you, everything I do and say is to get your attention," he said. He had his forehead pressed against mine now. We were heaving together. I nodded slightly to the question that hung in the air.

He pushed all the way inside me. I held back but his moan of gratification was almost enough to make my knees weak. I clung to him. He began to rock his hips. His huge cock was filling me again and again.

"Uh oh fuck, it's even more perfect than I imagined. Uh, uh, uh," he groaned as he slammed home again and again.

I couldn't hold back my pleasure any longer. My nails were already embedded in his skin. I was clenching my jaw so that it ached. I had to make a noise or a sound or something to express how fucking, damn, good I felt!

"I hate you," I whispered, trying out the words on my tongue.

"What's that?" He panted as he pushed deep inside me. He had me against the pool wall. His hands were greedily feeling all over me.

"I hate you," I moaned as he hit a delicious part of me.

"I think you're the most beautiful girl in the world," he whined as he attacked my neck with kisses. I grasped the nape of his neck.

"You're hideous," I responded, my eyes squeezed shut in bliss.

"Your pussy feels, fuck, like heaven," he retorted.

"I can't even tell you're inside me," I nearly cried as he slammed in. He chuckled dark and low in my ear.

The water was splashing everywhere. He was mumbling hot compliments in my ear. I couldn't help but lift my legs up and put them around him.

"Mm, mm, mm," I nearly squealed as he went at me like an animal in heat.

"Please," he gasped

"Please what?" | growled.

"P-please," he said again. He sounded like he was pleading for his life. "Let me cum inside you. You can call me any name you want, just please, can I let loose in this perfect cunt."

"I-l- oh, fuck, yes, you fucking piece of shit, cum inside me raw," | screamed.

"Oh yes!" He shouted and rammed his cock inside me so hard I was seeing stars. My world was spinning as rope after rope of cum filled me up. Then I was coming too. I was exploding with lust and desire and pleasure. I was panting and clawing and making such pathetic noises as we both erupted.

"That was.... Wow," Timothée moaned as he reluctantly pulled out. I sneered at him as best I could.

"Speak for yourself," I said as I got out. However, Timothée giggled when my legs refused to work right when I tried to walk. I glared at the idiot.

[simshistoria]

master edward seward is nothing if not persistent. he keeps showing up at the wainwright farm. since eleanor is sick, her sister edith bayard offers to chaperone.

needless to say, edward is enamoured!

anabel... not so much.

[scotianostra]

James V, King of Scots married Madeleine de Valois on January 1st 1537.

Madeleine of Valois was a French Princess who played a brief but significant role in European history as the first wife of James V of Scotland and, for a short time, the Queen of Scotland.

Madeleine’s poor health meant she died only six months after their wedding day – her short time as Consort led her to receive the nickname the ‘Summer Queen’ of Scots. Despite her short reign and tragically young death, Madeleine left both a direct and indirectly lasting impact on the tumultuous political landscape of Scotland.

Madeleine of Valois was the fifth child and third daughter of King Francis I and Claude, Duchess of Brittany.

She was born at the Château de Saint-Germain-en-Laye in France on 10 August 1520. Frail since birth, Madeleine was raised in the mild climate of the Loire Valley region to protect her from the cold.

When Madeleine was 3 years old, her mother died, and she, along with her younger sister Marguerite, was raised by their paternal aunt, Marguerite of Navarre. However, after their father remarried Eleanor of Austria, Madeleine became part of her household.

By the age of 16, Madeleine had developed tuberculosis, the same illness that likely claimed her mother’s life.

Madeleine’s marriage to James V was a result of diplomatic alliances between the Valois and Stuart dynasties.

The Treaty of Rouen, signed three years before Madeleine’s birth, aimed to strengthen the ‘Auld Alliance’ between France and Scotland after Scotland’s shattering defeat by England at the Battle of Flodden. One provision of the treaty was the marriage of a French princess to the Scottish king. King James V was only 5 years old at the time of the Treaty, thus negotiations on the marriage did not begin until 1530.

In April 1530, John Stewart, Duke of Albany, was appointed commissioner to finalise the royal marriage between James V and Madeleine – the French King Francis I’s eldest living daughter. However, due to Madeleine’s poor health, Francis proposed an alternative French bride, Mary of Bourbon, from his extended family, who was to be given a dowry as if she were the French king’s daughter.

James V agreed to marry Mary, and travelled to France in 1536 to meet her. However, upon his arrival, Mary didn’t appeal to him and instead he became enamoured with Madeleine, promptly asking her father Francis I for her hand in marriage. Initially, Francis I refused, fearing that Scotland’s climate would worsen Madeleine’s fragile health.

Smitten by 16 year old Madeleine’s delicate beauty, James V continued to press Francis I to permit the marriage. Madeleine also made her desire to marry James very obvious, thus despite his reservations, Francis I reluctantly granted them permission. The marriage contract was made at Blois, where Madeleine renounced her claims to the French throne, and Francis I provided a substantial dowry.

James V and Madeleine were married on 1 January 1537 at Notre Dane Cathedral in Paris – Madeleine was 16 and James was 30. The union was celebrated with four months of festivities, strengthening the bond between France and Scotland and fulfilling the terms of the Treaty of Rouen. Due to Madeleine’s health, their journey to Scotland was delayed until spring.

James and Madeleine eventually sailed for Scotland, arriving on 19 May 1537, yet by this time, Madeleine’s health had deteriorated further, and she was very unwell when the royal couple landed at Leith. Despite this, Madeleine is said to have kissed the ground upon arriving in her husband’s kingdom.

In preparation for her arrival, James had ordered improvements to Falkland Palace and the Chapel Royal, and was also in the process of building new tennis courts, and had added a French-style tower to the Palace of Holyrood House.

However, Madeleine fell seriously ill shortly after arriving in Scotland, possibly due to tuberculosis. She was bedridden and unable to fullfill her role as queen consort. Despite her illness, Madeleine’s presence brought a touch of French culture and refinement – known for her beauty, grace, and intelligence, Madeleine quickly became beloved by the Scottish court.

Although expressing some improvement in a letter to her father from Edinburgh on 8 June 1537, James V was concerned enough to also write to him requesting the physician Master Francisco to be sent. Madeleine later wrote that Francisco would only be needed to perfect her cure.

Plans were underway for Madeleine’s coronation as Queen of Scotland, yet her health continued to decline. A month later, she died of tuberculosis in her husband’s arms on 7 July 1537 at Holyrood Palace, aged 16 – just 6 months and 7 days after their wedding. She was interred in the Royal Chapel at Holyrood Abbey in Edinburgh, next to King James II of Scotland.

Her death left James V devastated, and plunged Scotland into mourning.

[sleekervae]

The Bride [0.5]

Masterlist

A/N: I had a nice little push to get this next instalment out. Thanks again for all the support, I'm glad you guys are enjoying this story as much as I enjoy writing it!

Pairing: billy the kid x fem!reader

Summary: Jesse returns to the ranch

Warnings: sad smut, angst, alcohol consumption, guns

Word Count: 4,987

Tag List: @poppyflower-22 @ponyslayer

Time was a luxury not enough people appreciated.

Billy and Eleanor still had a few days alone together, and they made the most of it that they could; chores in the house, exploring the land, Billy even taught Eleanor how to shoot a gun. She lamented that despite being Jesse's best mole, he still refused to get her a gun. Billy figured if she couldn't get one yet, the least he could do was show her how to use one properly.

And when the end of the day came, they'd spend their nights curled by the fire, or in bed, learning everything about each other both inside and out. Billy was quickly becoming enamoured with Eleanor, the dimples in her smile, how her brown eyes shone gold in the glow of the fire, her sharp sense of humour, the way her legs clamped around him with every shattering thrust he delivered her. Despite her lifestyle, Eleanor was stable for Billy, he became so comfortable around her very quickly.

But that, of course, was a problem.

A week's time was up soon enough, and while Billy was helping Eleanor draw up water from the well, they both turned when they heard horses thundering down the hill, following by the yips and whoops of the cowboys who rode them. Jesse and his gang had returned; and as the smile fell from Eleanor's face, Billy had a sinking feeling their paradise together was coming to an abrupt, unfortunate end.

The moment Jesse dismounted his horse, it was as though a switch flipped in Eleanor and she suddenly became aloof and sardonic all over again. Just as she had been when he found her in Silver City...

"My God, look-it what the cat dragged back," she sauntered over, her hands stuffed in her back pockets.

Jesse chuckled as he dismounted, "Thought you'd be happier to see me, Ellie,"

"I'm happy to see you alive, that counts for somethin'," she bypassed him to catch up with the rest of the gang. Billy meanwhile remained on the spot, curiosity and apprehension rippling down his spine as Jesse came over.

"Billy. You're alive,"

Billy smiled back, "Guess I am,"

"I've missed you," he grinned, his arm fell on his shoulder with a firm squeeze, "Thank God we found you," he then turned to his gang as the approached, still mounted on their horses, sweaty dirty, and beaten down under the sun.

"Fellas! This here is a very old friend of mine!" he then turned back to Billy, a glimmer of something prideful in his gaze, "Kid Antrim," none of his gang uttered a hello, barely any acknowledgement. Instead they simply looked at each other, perplexed perhaps that the last time they saw this kid he was within death's very grasp.

Jesse paid them no heed, "I hope Ellie's been taking good care of you," he said.

Billy's gaze drifted to Eleanor as she approached slowly, weaving between the horses. Her eyes, usually so expressive, were now cold and distant. Billy nodded, "She took care of me like a nurse. Couldn't have been kinder,"

There was no exaggeration in his words, no embellishment needed. But he caught something in her face, a flicker of an emotion he hadn't seen in her since they first met: a profound sadness.

There was a silent agreement between them not to speak of their... relationship. Not when he helped her hook up the horses, not when she started to fix up dinner, not when he offered to go chop her more firewood. It was suddenly as if they were complete strangers, polite to one another but the vigour within her, the passion and joy she'd exuded for so many days had dried up as quickly as water in the desert. Billy didn't have to ask why, he didn't want her to be in trouble with Jesse, nor did Eleanor want Jesse to give Billy any trouble.

That being said, Jesse Evans was not a stupid man. From the moment he returned, he could tell something was off with Eleanor. Her witticisms and fast tongue had dried up, she only showed a little bit of fire when she plucked John's hat off his head at the dinner table. Other than that, she seemed... different. Sad. And it wasn't often Jesse ever saw her sad -- or more he hardly cared to notice when she was.

She sat next to him at the dinner table, the boys already diving into the stew and bread she’d prepared. The well water was passed around, everyone’s glasses full. Billy was at the opposite end of the table, engaging in light-hearted banter with the boys as they peppered him with questions about his whereabouts, his adventures, and why Jesse was so adamant about having Billy join the Seven Rivers Gang.

Billy and Eleanor continued their lack of acknowledgment, only briefly meeting each other's gaze across the table. Billy's mind was a whirlpool of conflicting emotions, the warmth of the hearty stew doing little to quell the chill of uncertainty that gripped him. He could feel Eleanor's presence like a magnetic force, drawing his eyes to her even when he tried to focus on the conversation around him. Every laugh from the boys, every clink of cutlery, seemed to amplify the silence between them.

Eleanor, for her part, kept her eyes trained on her plate, but her thoughts were miles away. Her heart was a battlefield, torn between resentment and a lingering sense of connection she couldn’t quite shake. She remembered the times when they had shared stolen glances and secret smiles, but now those memories felt like they belonged to someone else, someone naïve and hopeful.

The boys dispersed soon after dinner was done, off to smoke their cigarettes or traipse around the property. Eleanor was left to clean the dishes, she was silent as ever as Jesse suddenly came in with a bottle of whiskey clenched in his hand.

"Care for some?" he asked, "Might take the edge off?"

"What edge would that be?" she asked, scrubbing hard at the caked on food in her pot.

Jesse came up beside her, placing the bottle on the table with a hard thud, "You've been outta' sorts, today," he noted.

Eleanor scoffed back, side-eyeing him skeptically, "Guess I was just enjoying my peace and quiet for too long," she replied simply.

Jesse cocked his head, leaning in closer, "You sure that's all it is?" he asked, "... Did Billy... he do anything to you while we were gone?"

Eleanor had to be careful not to react too quickly, "He's been helping me all week. Within reason of course. Poor guy slept for nearly two whole days," she moved her pot into the water bucket, rinsing the thin and greasy soap off the metal.

Jesse wanted to believe her, he wanted to believe her so badly. But he also remembered seeing her with Billy back in Silver City, talking more than two strangers should've been. And now it seemed she barely acknowledged him at all. So either something bad happened between them, or something else happened between them and she couldn't tell him about it.

A flame of resentment began to form in his gut, "I'm sure he's been the perfect house guest, right?" he asked, "Lifting the heavy shit, chopping the wood, doing the dishes with you... all the stuff I do for you,"

Eleanor rolled her eyes, "Jesse, you've never helped me wash the dishes. Don't lie to yourself,"

"I'm just making sure I don't have a problem festering in my fucking house," he grumbled back, his jaw tightening.

Eleanor knew all too well where his mind was circling, and how she wished he was actually as dumb as he looked. She turned to him, looking him dead in the eye, noting the slight waver in his stance, smelling the whiskey coming off him as though he'd been to the damn distillery himself.

"There's nothing happening between Billy and I, let that sink into your brain before you go getting yourself worked up over nothing," she never faltered in her own hard stare.

Jesse managed a smile, a chuckle rumbling in the back of his throat as he placed a finger under her chin, "Good," it was all Eleanor could do not to bat him away, "Because I wouldn't want to get his blood all over my floors,"

"You want to help me?" Eleanor huffed, pulling away from his touch, "Go get the linens off the clothes rack outside," she knew he wouldn't do it, but it at least gave him reason enough to leave her alone.

Eleanor threw down her rags into the wash bucket, her elbows settling on the counter as her face fell into her hands. The cold sheen of water on her fingers couldn't quell the noxious heat sizzling through her. Jesse had done it this time; he had really threatened to hurt Billy. Billy, whom he had regarded as a brother for so long. But maybe that was just how Jesse operated—everyone was expendable for the right price, even Billy.

Even Eleanor.

Her mind raced, heart pounding in her chest as the implications of Jesse’s threat settled over her like a heavy shroud. She tried to steady her breath, but the memory of Jesse’s cold, calculating eyes bore into her, making it impossible to think clearly.

She clenched her fists, the rags slipping through her fingers as she struggled to hold onto something—anything—that made sense. It wasn’t just the threat to Billy that stung; it was the realization that she, too, was a pawn in Jesse’s game. She had always known, on some level, that Jesse’s loyalty had its limits. But seeing it laid bare like this, seeing how easily he could turn on someone he once called family, was a brutal reminder of just how precarious her position was.

She was none the wiser to the audience of one just outside. Billy crouched in the shadows outside the kitchen window, his breath shallow, his heart a steady drumbeat in his chest. The night cloaked him in its inky embrace, the cool air nipping at his skin as he strained to hear the conversation inside. Jesse's voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the stillness, making Billy's blood run cold.

His mind raced, torn between his loyalty to Jesse and his growing feelings for Eleanor. He hated the way Jesse treated her, the way he tried to control her with his jealousy and threats. But what could he do? If he confronted Jesse, it would only escalate things, put Eleanor in more danger.

He took a deep breath, his heart heavy with the weight of his internal conflict. He needed to find a way to protect Eleanor, to keep Jesse’s jealousy from tearing them all apart. But for now, all he could do was wait, and hope that he would find the strength to do what was right when the time came.

Eleanor felt around aimlessly across the floor, her only source of light a dimming lantern sitting off in the corner. Her fingers finally nudged against a solid surface, and with nimble nails she gripped the old shoe box and pulled it out from under her bed. She ripped the top off and found her stash of money, and as she counted she was relieved to still find the sum all there. Seventy-five dollars, it wasn't enough for her to branch out on her own just yet, but maybe one day...

She jumped however when she heard a soft knock at her door, moving quickly to shove the money back under her bed and get the door. She figured it might have been Jesse wanting to bust her chops again, or maybe even apologize for earlier. Hell, or it was John or Bill needing help getting to bed after drinking their weight in whiskey.

But instead, she found Billy. And he appeared sober as a nun.

Eleanor shook off her stunned silence, her racing heart slowing down, "You need somethin'?" she asked.

Billy simply shook his head, "Could we talk?" he asked quietly.

Eleanor huffed, glancing both ways down the hall before ushering him in, "Come on, come on," and she shut the door behind her.

Billy took a brief look around, her room was identical to his, minding the bed was actually made and she didn't have clothes hanging out of her dresser drawers.

"I didn't thank you for dinner," he said, turning on his heel towards her.

Eleanor simpered, "There's no need. But I'm glad you enjoyed it," she noted how antsy he seemed, he couldn't quite stand still, "Something wrong, Billy?"

Yeah, yeah you could say that. "I'm leaving, first thing in the morning," he said, "I figured I oughtta' tell you first,"

As much as it hurt Eleanor to hear those words, she couldn't blame him.

"Billy..." she approached him slowly, "You don't have to --"

"I know. But Jesse's in love with you," every word he spoke was like a fork through his tongue, a knife through her ears, "And as much as you may not wanna' hear it, we know what he's capable of. It's safer for both of us if I'm not here,"

Eleanor turned on her heel, her head hanging low. This was typical, how foolish could she have been to think that even for a second, she might get to actually be happy? How foolish could she be to ignore Jesse's flirting, his drunken whims and his outbursts? She always knew how Jesse felt about her, she also knew that sooner or later it may just kill either her or Billy.

Hell, it may even kill Jesse.

"Unless... you want to go with me?" Billy's voice cut through her thoughts, and she turned to look at him, surprised by the hope in his eyes. She remembered the pain in his expression when she had left before, the sense of loss that had lingered between them. Despite everything, he was offering her a way out, a chance to escape the turmoil that surrounded them.

It was tempting, so tempting. The idea of leaving it all behind, of starting fresh somewhere far away, was almost too much to resist. But running away didn't solve anything for her back then, because that was how she ended up here. And if she did run it wouldn't matter because Jesse would still be out there, his feelings unchanged, and she would only be delaying the inevitable.

"I would love to," she spoke softly, her voice wavering on a sob she was holding back, "But I can't. I can't keep running, Billy. The infantry is still after me, and if I go with you then not only do we have to worry about them, but we also have to worry about this," she gestured to the walls on either side of them, "The boys will be coming for me so fast we might not even see 'em coming,"

"But Eleanor --"

"You're fast Billy, but you're not that fast," every word she spoke was harsh, but she needed to be truthful. He was the only person she'd ever truly cared about, and if sacrificing herself was what was best for him then so be it.

Billy came upon her, cupping her face in her hands. His touch was such a stark contrast to Jesse's, warm and gentle, he didn't elicit a frigid chills within her.

"I love you," he spoke with purpose, his eyes never wavering, his tone solid, "I don't care where we go, I'd protect you across the plains with my bare hands if I had to,"

Funnily enough, Eleanor remembered Jesse something so similar to her when they'd met, "You don't love me, Billy," she replied bitterly, "You don't even know what that means,"

He scoffed softly, a bitter laugh escaping him, "Don't I? Do you really believe I haven't spent countless days thinking about you? Searching for you? You don't think I notice the gold in your eyes? How much I love hearing your voice? Even when you're upset, your voice is my favourite sound in the world," His voice was a mixture of pain and determination, his gaze locking onto hers with unwavering intensity.

“I love you, Eleanor Aubert. I love you more than I ever thought was possible,” he whispered, his breath warm against her lips. “And if loving you means I have to let you go, to keep you safe, then that’s what I’ll do. Because your safety, your happiness, mean more to me than anything else in this world.”

The weight of his words hung between them, heavy and real. Eleanor could see the truth in his eyes, feel the depth of his love in the way his voice faltered, barely holding it together. His confession wasn’t just words—it was a raw, vulnerable piece of his heart that he was laying at her feet.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he added softly, his voice almost breaking, “But I couldn’t leave without telling you.”

Her heart swelled, torn between the warmth of his love and the cold reality they faced. She wanted to imagine a future with him, but his words held a truth she couldn’t ignore: they couldn’t be together. It was safer if he left. Safer if they stayed apart.

Tears welled up, spilling over as her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. The ache of longing mixed with the bitter taste of reality, creating a storm of emotions that threatened to drown her. She wanted to hold him tight, beg him to stay, but she knew she couldn’t. She had to let him go—for his sake and hers.

“I don’t know if I love you, Billy. But I feel for you like I’ve never felt for any man,” she let out a shaky laugh, “In a world full of hicks, ruffians, and cowboys, you’re my gentleman.”

“A gentleman?” He chuckled softly, brushing his thumb along her jaw. His face was inches from hers, drawn closer by the gentle pull of her fingers at the nape of his neck. “Not sure I can agree with you on that one.”

“And I’m not exactly a lady, either,” she replied, her eyes drifting to his lips. She loved the way they curved, loved the way they felt against hers.

“I beg to differ,” he murmured, his gaze locked on hers. Her eyes glimmered in the soft light, the golden flecks catching the glow of the lantern. God, he loved her eyes. “Can I kiss you one last time?”

“Please do,”

Billy hesitated for just a heartbeat before leaning in, his lips meeting Eleanor’s in a soft, tentative kiss. The warmth of her skin, the softness of her breath mingling with his, made him exhale shakily against her mouth.

He pulled back, just enough to search her eyes, looking for any trace of doubt or discomfort. But all he found was the same warmth he felt, a softness that matched his own. Encouraged, he closed the distance between them again, his lips brushing against hers with a gentle, almost hesitant exploration.

Eleanor’s eyes fluttered shut as her hands rested lightly on his chest, feeling the heat of him radiate through his shirt. His touch was careful, his hands moving with a purpose that was somehow both deliberate and tender. The way he touched her, as if she were something precious, something he was afraid to break, sent a wave of emotions crashing over her.

With a quiet sigh, she pressed closer, deepening the kiss. Billy responded instantly, his hands cupping her face, his lips moving against hers with a new urgency. It was like a dance, a silent conversation between them, speaking in a language of desire and emotion that neither could fully put into words.

As the kiss grew more intense, so did the way they held each other. Billy’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her body tightly against his, the closeness sending a shiver down Eleanor’s spine. She responded in kind, her fingers threading through his hair as she lost herself in the moment, in the feeling of being wanted, of being loved.

Billy’s lips tasted of the crisp air after a rainstorm, with a faint hint of the alcohol he’d had earlier. His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as they kissed, every movement filled with a longing that had simmered between them for too long.

When he broke the kiss, his gaze locked onto hers, and she could see the hunger in his eyes, a hunger that mirrored her own. She gave him a small nod, tilting her head back slightly, an invitation for him to explore further. His lips traveled down her neck, sending another shiver through her as he moved with a blend of urgency and reverence.

Sweeping her off her feet, quite literally, Billy carried Eleanor towards the bed. A stumble over a pile of clothes was quickly dismissed as he was focused on one thing only - getting to the bed with her in his arms.

He gently placed her on the edge of the bed before removing his shirt, revealing a chest that rose and fell with anticipation. Kneeling in front of her, he was like a man on a mission, eager to please but unsure of himself.

Eleanor, sensing his uncertainty, reassured him with a tender touch, her hands cupping his cheeks as she told him it was okay not to know everything. With a soft smile, she invited him to lay down beside her, and he eagerly accepted, his muscles tensing slightly as he adjusted to the new position.

As they lay entwined in each other's arms, Billy's hands began to gently explore Eleanor's body. Clothes came off and were tossed carelessly across the floor. His fingers traced the curve of her waist, sending shivers through her. Eleanor closed her eyes, allowing herself to be carried away by the sweetness of their lovemaking, but also the looming sadness of his departure.

With a hesitant yet confident touch, Billy's hands moved to the delicate skin of Eleanor's inner thigh. Her eyes fluttered open, a mixture of desire and sadness filling her gaze. She nodded, reassuring him with a soft smile, knowing that they had to cherish this moment, even if it was fleeting.

Billy's fingers continued to trace the lines of her body, gently teasing the sensitive skin along her stomach and pinching her nipples. Eleanor felt a rush of anticipation, knowing that this was a moment she would treasure forever. Her breath hitched as his fingers delicately brushed against the sensitive skin between her legs, a soft moan escaping her lips.

Billy's confidence grew, allowing him to explore her with a gentleness that bordered on reverence. He traced the shape of her folds, careful not to rush, knowing that every touch was a precious part of this stolen moment.

Billy's eyes locked with Eleanor's, their emotions and desires mirrored in each other's gaze. He slowly removed his own pants, his erection standing at attention, a testament to the passion that now consumed them.

Eleanor's eyes locked onto his, the dark depths of his irises captivating her as he continued his exploration. Her breathing hitched with each gentle caress, her body responding to the tender touch. With a trembling hand, she reached out and guided him closer, the head of his erection sliding so deliciously through her.

As the intensity of their passion grew, so too did the sadness that hung over them like a shroud. They each knew that this was not just a fleeting moment, but an entire chapter of their lives that would be forever etched in their hearts.

Eleanor's soft moan seemed to jolt Billy back to reality, his eyes widening as he realized the effect his touch was having on her. He hesitated for a moment, but the desire in her gaze was undeniable. Nervously, he continued to explore, he knew she was trying so hard to keep quiet. They didn't want to alert anyone else in the house. This was their dirty little secret, their sanctuary in a wasteland. But fuck, he felt so damn good...

Eleanor gasped as his fingers wandered further, his touch gentle yet firm as he drew circles around her clit, pushing into her slowly. She arched her back slightly, her breath catching in her throat as a wave of pleasure washed over her. Billy watched her intently, his own desire building with every touch.

As he continued to caress her, Eleanor found herself lost in the sensation of his hands on her skin, feeling as if she was melting into him. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, her nails raking down his back so hard he knew there would be marks in the morning.

As they moved together, Billy's touch became more assertive, his circles were tighter, faster, his thrusts sharp against that spot within her muscle. Her breath hitched at the simultaneous stimulation, her body responding to his every touch. The emotions were raw, the intimacy profound, and the connection between them had never felt so strong.

In that moment, time seemed to slow, and the world around them faded away.

The intensity of their passion seemed to consume them, their bodies writhing together as they moved in sync. Eleanor bit back her lustful cries, her body trembling as she reached the peak of her pleasure. Billy's eyes never left hers, his own expression a mix of awe and sheer desire.

As the wave of pleasure washed over Eleanor, she felt as if she was floating, weightless, her body was overtaken by a warm glow flooding down her spine and to the rest of her limbs. Billy watched her, his eyes filled with a mixture of wonder and desire. He wanted to capture this moment forever, to hold onto the memory of her face as she experienced something so intimate and raw.

With a final, throbbing thrust, Billy reached his peak. He surged forward, his body unable to resist the pull of Eleanor's. Their lips met in a passionate, desperate kiss, as their bodies merged into a single, quivering whole.

As the intensity of their climax reached its peak, Eleanor felt as if she was being lifted by some unseen force, soaring through the heavens and beyond. Billy, too, was lost in the ecstasy, his entire being consumed by the desire that had been building for so long.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still. Their hearts raced in unison, their breaths mingling in a single, continuous moan. The world around them faded away, replaced by the intensity of their passion.

As they lay there, still entwined, their bodies glistening with sweat, they knew that they had shared something truly special. A connection that could never be broken, a love that would last a lifetime, or perhaps even beyond.

But as the moment faded, reality began to intrude. The sadness that had been lurking in the corners of their minds returned, a harsh reminder of the inevitable parting that awaited them. They knew that this stolen moment of passion would only serve as a fleeting memory, a glimpse of the love that could have been.

Eleanor traced the lines of Billy's face with her fingers, committing every detail to memory. She knew that this would be the last time they would be together like this, it would be the last time for a long time...

Billy was gone the next day.

When Billy told Jesse he couldn't stay, it didn't take much for Jesse to put two and two together. His voice was edged with a hint of resentment as he asked, "Was she worth it?"

Billy hesitated, the weight of the question pressing down on him. He didn't want to put Eleanor in any more of an awkward position. Finally, he simply replied, "Take care of her. She's a good woman,"

Eleanor couldn't let Billy leave without some provisions, regardless of Jesse's feelings. She packed him some bread, nuts, and jam—just enough to get him by until he reached his next destination.

As Billy was about to leave, Eleanor wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. Billy wanted to kiss her so badly, but he restrained himself, knowing it wasn't the right time.

"I'll see you again," he whispered in her ear, "Promise I'll come find you, one day,"

Eleanor wanted to believe him, but she knew better than to trust the promises of men on the frontier, "Good luck, Billy," she replied softly.

He mounted his horse and was off, traversing the plains with ease. Eleanor turned back towards the house, her heart sinking as she saw Jesse saunter out with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a shotgun in the other.

"Jesse—don't." It wasn’t so much a plea as it was a firm warning, like a parent cautioning their child against doing something reckless.

Jesse's nostrils flared angrily. He dropped the bottle on the porch chair and brought the shotgun up, taking aim. He could take Billy down with a single shot, and they both knew it.

"And why shouldn't I?" he spat venomously.

Tears brimmed in her eyes, but Eleanor simply shook her head and placed a calming hand on his shoulder. "Because you love him," she replied softly. "As much as you want to deny it—I know."

He wouldn't have dragged Billy back from purgatory itself if he didn't care about him. After all, how many times had he regarded Billy as his own brother? And as angry and resentful as Jesse was, he knew Eleanor was right.

Without another word, Jesse dropped the shotgun, shaking Eleanor's hand away. He stormed back into the house, the door slamming hard behind him. Eleanor, meanwhile, sank onto the porch steps, her head falling into her hands as her tears began to stream down her cheeks.

[fleet-of-fiction]

Jake Kiszka // OC

Summary: The year is 1820. Jacob Thomas is the second born son of the Polish-American Kiszka family who have recently bought property in England. The affluent family have caused a stir in the old aristocratic London social circles after purchasing Belvoir Hall. A country estate which once belonged to the Hanover family. After the death of Sir Oliver Hanover, his debts too many to count, ashamed and disgraced his widow and two daughters move to live with their Aunt at nearby Ivy Grange, a small manor on the Kent border. After returning to recover some personal items, Eleanor Hanover catches the eye of the flirtatious second son. (All locations are fictional)

Warnings: Loss of virginity. All the usual foreplay shenanigans and sexual descriptions you have come to expect from the erotic corners of my mind. Nothing too nefarious. Just delicious regency era raunch.

Jacob was ascending the stairs when the bell began to chime. He turned, curiously, as the chamber maid appeared at the foot of the staircase to greet whomever stood on the other side of the door.

"Who is it, Kitty?" He asked, his boots making low thrums on the stone floored lobby of Belvoir Hall.

"It's Lady Eleanor, Sir." Kitty replied, standing aside so that Jacob could get a good look at her.

Immediately, he was amused by her. As was his nature. To stand there with an egregious grin that was neither comfort nor welcome. His long, dark hair surpassing his shoulders against a white linen shirt that was unseasonably open to his bare chest.

He liked the way her eyes were immediately drawn to his flesh. A small flush appearing in the apples of her cheeks as she lifted her gloved hand to cover her astonished mouth.

"Lady Eleanor." He said curtly, in the American drawl that had been talked about at great length between Eleanor and her friends. "What can I do for you?"

She was a bold thing, he noticed. Clearing her throat before gathering a stand-offish demeanour about her. Turning, ever so slightly, to ensure that her escort was still standing by the waiting carriage behind her.

"Would it be possible to speak with..." She faltered on the correct title,"...Mrs.Kiszka, please?"

Jacob's lips parted as he continued to smile. Enjoying the way she fiddled with her tiny little clutch bag, flustered and pained by his arrogance.

"My apologies Lady Eleanor, but my Mother is currently indisposed. May I be of service to you?" He said it with an edge of insincerity, as if the service he wished to provide her might not be the one she so desired.

Straightening up, she placed a hand to the edge of her bonnet. Careful to ensure her pretty, dark curls were still in place. His eyes followed the movement of her fingers.

"As I understand it, your Mother and Father procured much of our substantial library in the sale of our house." She managed to say, keeping her voice plain and steady, not wanting to give him any indication that she was completely intimidated. "There are a few titles which are dear to my heart and I have come to appeal to their good nature and ask that I may reclaim those books."

He was young and foolish. Never too enamoured with a girl to ask for her hand in marriage, but often interested enough to play with her heart until he was bored of it. Since arriving in England, the rogue in him had been left untamed.

The way he leaned against the door frame, his shirt unbuttoned, was making her uncomfortable. But still, he did not move to properly attire himself. He did not cease in his relentlessness to bribe a coarse word from her lips.

"I see no reason as to why you may not have what you desire." He said sardonically, opening the door a little wider. "Kitty, please show Lady Eleanor to the library."

There was a little hesitation as she approached the door. His arm slowly moving out of her way, his smile never once leaving his face as he watched her enter. Knowing her way to the library but following the servant obediently, she dared to glance back at him standing there as she turned the corner.

Kitty had also been part of the house sale. Similar in age to Eleanor, she had grown up playing in the endless corridors and secret rooms which littered the top floors of the manor. Taking her position as chamber maid on her fourteenth birthday. No longer Eleanor's playmate. It had made little difference, the two of them remaining friends in the convening years.

As the library door closed, Eleanor fell into her friend's excitement. Kitty, unable to retain her sense of propriety, embraced her old friend tightly, giggling as they both enjoyed a sweet reunion.

"Oh, Kitty! I have missed you!" She exclaimed, looking around the old room to happily notice that nothing had changed. "I feel as if I have come home."

Kitty smiled bittersweetly. "Oh, my Lady... the place hasn't been the same since you left. I dare say everything looks as it once did, but it's a different Belvoir Hall these days."

Grasping her hands tightly, Eleanor lead her friend over to the leather couch that centred the walls of book shelves. A table and a lamp that had once belonged to her Father sitting idly at the side. This room had been her absolute favourite. A quiet place to contemplate.

"You must tell me everything, Kitty! Mother has been dying for news over at Ivy Grange. She mulls over it day and night, how we lost Belvoir and everything within it. She's melancholy, I tell you. Simply ghastly. Aunt Helen has been at her wits end. Give me something I may take back for her that may make her smile, wont you?"

Kitty's eyes moved towards the door, afraid to speak ill of her new masters. Leaning in so that her whispers did not travel beyond her dear friend's ear.

"It's their children, my Lady!" Kitty said spritely, cupping a hand around her mouth. "The master and his wife, they are nice enough people. Came here because of a population boom, as they explained it, returning to their European roots. Although I was lead to believe they are Polish? I don't think they speak Polish. Anyway, their children are a different matter. The eldest one, Joshua, he is an odd creature if ever I saw one. Keeps to himself mainly. Rather studious and contemplative. He likes a drink though, and to converse with any who will listen after a few sips. The one who greeted you at the door, that's his younger twin. By five minutes as I understand it. He and their younger brother are tyrants. Jacob and Samuel. I have seen the youngest one with his hand up a few skirts, many a time. You remember Bessy? Your Father took her on just before he died. She did not stand a chance. He's had her up against the wall almost every night since they arrived. And Jacob? His tastes seem a little more sophisticated. But I've heard tale that he has refused to marry. The young girl, Veronica, she's been sent to a school somewhere up north. She was here all of a week before she was gone."

Their conspiring was etched all over their faces as the door clicked and opened. Kitty unceremoniously jumped up from the couch, flattening out her pinafore and hair as Jacob strode in with all the confidence of a man who knew his place.

"Leave us." He said, lowering his voice and his gaze.

Eleanor raised a protesting hand. "If it is all the same to you, good Sir, my escort is waiting outside and as a guest I am certain you must provide me with one whilst I am within."

The corner of his mouth turned upward. "As you wish."

Kitty stood with her back to the door. Her eyes firmly set on the window, overlooking the gardens outside. Fingers knotted together at her front, as she had been taught to stand whenever attending a room. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jacob take a seat on the opposite end of the couch. Certain he was being far too bold.

"You are welcome here any time, Lady Eleanor." He said smoothly, crossing his leg across his lap. "It must still feel like your home."

The kindness with which he spoke took her by surprise. His insincerity and arrogance were still bubbling beneath a veneer of charm, his arm outstretched towards her on the back of the couch. She noted the way he looked at her, without a hint of propriety.

The flush within her cheeks began to resonate between her thighs. The fabric of her petticoat becoming uncomfortable. Her corset feeling as if it might constrict her chest into breaths she could barely take in. The sensation washing over her completely unwanted, leaving her desperate to flee.

"You're very kind, Sir..." She began, trying to remain composed.

"Call me Jacob, I insist." He replied before she could finish, a subtle waves of his hand revealing the silver lines of an old scar running up his forearm.

"Jacob." She uttered, the name spilling out of her mouth like spun silk.

He liked the way it sounded on her lips. Admiring her budded peaks and poised demeanour as she sat bolt upright with her hands within her lap. Her attempt to hide her rosy cheeks beneath the rim of her bonnet made him eager to cup her chin within his hand and lift her gaze to meet him.

"You are not yet married, Lady Eleanor?" He asked, shooting a disparaging look towards Kitty, "May I be so bold as to ask why a beautiful woman such as yourself has not yet accepted the many proposals I am sure you have received?"

Kitty could feel his eyes burning into her. Her mouth was set in a thin line, biting back the urge to speak ill of her masters son.

"You may not." Eleanor replied, " I am here to collect my books, nothing more."

He noted the thin line transform into a triumphant smile on Kitty's face.

"Very well." He allowed, swiftly moving away from the couch. "Pick out your beloved books and I will have them sent to you as I'm certain there will be many."

There was a hint of reproach as he took his leave. Eleanor felt the wind leave her lungs as he closed the door behind him. The interaction so brief, so inconsequential. Had she imagined the way he had looked at her?

"Careful there, my Lady." Kitty warned, "He's a tyrant, remember?"

Ivy Grange was much smaller, less grandiose than Belvoir. It had taken Eleanor several weeks to acclimatise herself to the surroundings. Where once there had been a full service staff of housekeepers and groundsmen, stable hands and game keepers there was now only a handful of people to keep the land and rooms. It still felt somewhat shameful. To have lost everything so suddenly and to see another in the place where you once stood.

For days after returning from Belvoir, Eleanor did not feel quite herself. Taking air in the garden and keeping herself occupied with the piano in the day parlour. It had felt strange to be a guest when it still felt like her home. But it wasn't that which kept her unsettled.

As she strolled around the rose bushes, taking in their scent and admiring their soft, round pink petals she was reminded of that symbiotic stare. His arrogance and his kindness at war with one another. He was an enigma, she had decided, as she studied the rose stems.

Why did he come into her mind so vividly and so uninvited? She found herself irritated with all the thoughts which had plagued her. Wondering if he had meant to steal from her the emotions she had felt that day. Is this what tyrants did?

"Ellie?! Oh, Ellie... where are you?! Must you always be where I can't find you?!"

The voice chimed over the mid spring breeze. The child like call of Elizabeth Hanover, Eleanor's younger sister.

"I am here!" Eleanor called back, lifting her head to be seen over the pink and green. "What has got you all excited?!"

At fifteen years old, she was entirely the opposite of her sister. Eleanor was only bold because she feared the interrogation of being asked why she had not yet married. Elizabeth was still young enough to enjoy not being asked that question. Still full of hope and wonder. Eleanor had no desire to marry a man who would no doubt drink himself into a stupor every night and gamble away their wealth. Sir Oliver Hanover had much to answer for when it came to his eldest daughter.

"Oh, Ellie! There's a Gentleman come to call for you. He's ever so handsome! He's American, with that long hair. And he has asked to speak with your directly. Ellie...is he one of those Kiszka's that moved into Belvoir?"

Eleanor could see that her sister had been instantly charmed. She placed a loving hand on the cool, flushed cheek of her little sister. Her eyes looking up expectantly.

"I expect so, yes." She replied, looking up over the lawn towards the house. "He greeted me when I visited the other day."

Elizabeth clasped her hands together. "Which one? The youngest one? I have heard he is terribly handsome. And the man at the door was terribly handsome..."

"Lilibet, please." Eleanor said, stroking the cheek slowly. "Calm yourself down. They're just silly boys."

"You always say that." Elizabeth replied, feeling the excitement drain from her, "He's speaking with Mother. And I don't think he's a silly boy at all. I think I would be greatly flattered if one of them were to call for me."

Of course, it was Jacob. Under the guise of returning the books she had chosen from the library. A chest full of them stood at the foot of the door, a look of absolute satisfaction on his face.

Eleanor's Mother, Lady Anne Hanover, had already agreed to Jacob escorting her eldest daughter on a stroll around the gardens whilst the books were placed in the smaller library at Ivy Grange. A look of consternation was exchanged between Mother and daughter before Eleanor invited him out into the warm spring sunshine.

"I did not mean to cause offence to you the other day, Lady Eleanor." He began, following her lead down the path which meandered down from the back of the house. "I'm sure you are aware that I, too, am as yet unmarried and grow weary at being questioned."

Eleanor politely nodded. "There was no offence, caused. Sir...I beg your pardon, Jacob."

There it was again. That smile as she spoke his name. His entire body turned to face her. Still amused by her. Still charmingly arrogant.

"I dare say our parents were hoping a change of location would bring about some changes in our marital statuses. As yet, none of my siblings are betrothed. Although they hope that my sister will return from her schooling up north with news of a proposal."

Eleanor could feel that tightness in her corset again, that familiar ache in her stomach. She stopped to admire the flowers.

"May I ask why you have called upon me like this, Jacob? It seems to me that you have no desire to marry and courtship would be far too much of a commitment for you. Because, as you can see, I have no desire to be courted."

"Is that so?" He replied earnestly, gesturing for her to lead them further down the path. "I had wondered if Kitty had filled your head with nonsense about me and it appears that I was right."

She dared to look at him directly. The sun beating down behind him, forcing her to raise a hand against her eyes. She noted the details of his face for the first time. The sensual way his mouth moved, the tip of his tongue moistening his lips. A tiny mole on his cheek and a little upturn of his nose at the tip.

"Where did you get that scar on your arm?" She asked, deciding that she was going to humour him.

He was quite taken aback, but did not hesitate in his response.

"When I was a child my brother and I were having a disagreement. He thought it could be resolved with fists and so we fought. I ended up with my fist cutting through a glass cabinet that had belong to my Grandfather and the result was the opening of my arm." He traced the silver line with a curious fingertip. "Joshua saw the blood and immediately ran to fetch our Mother, who promptly fainted at the sight of it. I don't think either of us can remember what the disagreement was about."

Eleanor nodded and proceeded to guide him into the seclusion of the pond which sat behind a row of beeches. The lily pads were in full bloom and the fish scuttled up to the surface as their reflections appeared on the rippled surface.

"Am I to believe that you are not the tyrant I have been informed of?" She asked pertinently. "Is that why you have come here? To ensure that the stories which proceed you are not to be believed?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I would be interested to hear which stories are circulating. My Father intends to host a party in the coming weeks. To formally greet everyone and make their proper acquaintance. I'm sure you will receive your invitation shortly, but I would hate to be stuck in a room full of people who think me a tyrant."

The wind picked up. Pulling a curl from Eleanor's head. He took note of it immediately, reaching to push it back from her face. She did not flinch from the touch as he thought she might. There, at the side of the pond, they were completely alone and unescorted. Jacob sensed a shift in her manner with him.

"Only that you and your younger brother have had your fill of the women around here in such a short space of time. With no regard for their honour." She said curtly, with no regard for his feelings, eager to see if he would respond graciously.

He was no longer amused. No longer arrogant, even.

"I cannot speak for Samuel. He is younger than I am. Likely his behaviour will catch up to him if he is not careful." He sighed then, almost as if it grieved him. "My only wish is to find a girl who will run free with me."

Yes, he was a rogue. But he was no tyrant. She peered into his soft eyes and saw all the promise of a man who couldn't exist within the walls expected of him. Walls that had kept her, too, caged like a wild animal for others to spectate.

"Why is it that you carry yourself so arrogantly?" She dared to ask. "You do yourself no favours."

There was an errant smirk there on that beautiful mouth.

"Better to be thought of as something that I am not, than something I am failing at being."

Eleanor could not deny that she was intrigued by him. If she had ever been intimidated, it fell by the wayside as she watched him gently fan away a bee that came to buzz around their heads. Ordinarily, she would have panicked and swatted it away herself. But she could not keep her eyes off him.

"What, precisely, might you be failing at being?" She probed further.

"Romantic." He replied stoically.

There was a change in direction of the breeze. It brought about that curl from behind her ear. He would have trespassed a kiss, but the hour was growing late. Instead, he positioned that curl back behind her ear, his hand lingering a little longer at her face.

"I think it would be remiss of me to say that you are not without romance, Jacob." She said, almost breathlessly. "But I fail to see how any of that has anything to do with me."

He almost laughed. A low, breathy mocking sound that hurt her feelings.

"You are not blind, Lady Eleanor. Nor are you stupid." He said then, all the laughter fading. "You do well to be careful with me, I am but a man. And though I strive to do better, it is true that I have known my share of women."

"Perhaps you are tyrant after all." She said quietly, her eyes falling listlessly to his lips. "Perhaps I have need of one."

As the carriage pulled up outside Belvoir Hall, Eleanor Hanover smoothed out her emerald green dress. Adorned with lace at the neck and wrists, she checked her reflection in the carriage door window and admired the warm, welcoming lights resonating from her former home.

London society was buzzing with excitement for the first formal occasion hosted by the mysterious new American family. There was no mistaking that they were new money. Mr. and Mrs. Kiszka, without any further titles, welcomed Lords and Ladies to their sprawling home with all the uncertainty that came with being new money. But money they had, in abundance.

It was clear to see as Eleanor stepped into the ballroom. Adorned with silk flowers which hung ostentatiously from the ceiling and climbed in vines down the staircase. A string quartet were playing lively music in the corner while the waiting staff mingled with silver trays of champagne.

Aunt Helen was the first to make a comment on the choice of flowers. Lady Ann agreeing with her most excitedly as they tried to pick the place apart and make it appear that they were happy to attend a party in the place they had once called home.

"Where do you suppose the sons are?" Elizabeth asked, scanning the room for handsome young men.

Aunt Helen, although old and dithering, placed a firm hand on the young girls shoulder. "Now, now, Lilibet. Have a care for your reputation."

The young girl rolled her eyes. "It's a party, Aunt Helen. Am I not allowed a little fun?"

"Fun you may have." The old woman replied sourly, "Dance if you wish. But stay away from those Kiszka boys, I have heard... things."

It didn't take long for their arrival to make heads turn. People gathering to ask how they felt in their old home, being hosted as guests. Eleanor took her opportunity to step back from the fray, smiling and nodding as she took a glass of champagne.

Parties had never sat well with her. The meaningless cycle of mind numbing chat and gossip. The judgements of those attending, pretending to like their neighbours whilst talking ill of them behind their backs. People getting far too drunk for their senses. The music and the joy which came from that was the only reason she attended. But tonight there had been another reason.

"That's Joshua Kiszka on the fiddle." Elizabeth announced, inexplicably coming forth with information she couldn't possibly have procured so quickly. "Look at him, Ellie! Isn't he dreamy?!"

Eleanor looked over the where the quartet were playing. A small, curly haired man playing a wistful tune.

"That man is twenty six years old, Lilibet. There is to be no more say on how he is dreamy." She scolded, watching her sister skulk off with her excitement yet again dulled.

Jacob was sitting quietly in the darkest corner of the room, beneath the staircase where he could watch the party unfold without engaging himself within it. He watched Eleanor arrive, keeping a close eye as she looked for him. Distracted by her sister's incessant wants, he found himself intrigued by the way she took herself to the edge of the room to spectate, in much the same manner he was.

His desire to make his presence known was quelled by the eyes he knew would be watching. To approach her in this room would have drawn unwanted attention. As he rose from his seat, he slowly made his way through the crowd. Nodding his head in greeting to those who raised their glasses. His eyes firmly set on Eleanor.

When she reciprocated his gaze, it was as if the music had stopped. She understood completely what was expected of her. The room fell silent to him, her shape was all he could see. He silently begged her to leave with him. From across the room.

"Lilibet." She said, leaning in to her crestfallen sister. "Do you think our rooms have been slept in by one of the boys?"

Oh, she was evil. To use her sister to such an end. But as Jacob ascended the stairs, his eyes reaching back to call her to him, she knew there was no other way to slip out unnoticed.

Elizabeth, predictably excited by the prospect of going to investigate, knew that she was being watched.

"Why don't you keep Mother and Aunt Helen occupied whilst I go and have a look? I can report back."

The idea was not without it's rewards. Elizabeth mulled it over for the briefest of moments before sidling off to keep her Mother and Aunt's attention.

Whatever madness was coursing through her veins in that moment, she heeded it. The candlelit corridor at the top of the stairs was where he waited for her. His shirt unbuttoned in the way it had been that first day she had returned to Belvoir. His hair cascading over his shoulders.

He picked up a candlestick and began walking down the corridor, Eleanor following his silent instruction. He halted at the door of her old room.

"This was yours, wasn't it?" He correctly predicted.

She nodded prophetically. "I suppose it is yours now."

His smile danced in the light of the candle. He opened the door and allowed her to slip beneath his arm, the light of the moon outside flooding in through the open window. He watched her run to the glass, placing her palm flat against it as she looked out over the gardens.

"You look exceptionally beautiful tonight, Lady Eleanor." He said, placing the candle down on the dresser by the door.

She watched him in the reflection of the window. Standing there like a ghost. Her heart fluttering wildly against her corset strings. He looked dangerous standing there like that.

"Thankyou." She swallowed, "You look rather dapper yourself, Sir."

She thought he might correct her, but to her surprise he didn't. He liked being called Sir. He had been called it more often of late. Drawing from it a need to hear it outside the realms of propriety.

"Why did you come up here, my Lady?" He asked, taking the buckle of his belt firmly into his hand. "I do not plan on being an honourable man."

"I know." She breathed, turning to face him in the flickering light of the candle flame. "I did not follow you to be honoured."

His breath ceased. If his expectation had been to steal a kiss, he began to wonder if she would allow him more.

The four poster bed was unchanged. Eleanor had spent many nights in those sheets alone, wondering what it might feel like to have a man at her side. As she glanced over at the bed frame, a flash of something emerged in Jacob's eyes.

"I must confess that I have been completely at your mercy since the moment I laid eyes upon you." His confession came unbound, unlooping the belt savagely from his waist.

Eleanor thought back to that day far more often than she cared to admit. He had ignited within her something which had been dormant. Perhaps opening an answer as to why she was yet to marry. In truth, all the men who had ever asked her had bored her to tears. Not once having elicited from her the visceral reaction in her core that Jacob had with one, fleeting glance.

"Would I be right in thinking that whatever may transpire here tonight, you have thought about it often?" She asked, noticing in the dull light the way his jaw was clenched tight.

"A fair warning to you, Lady Eleanor. If you have yet to know a man's touch. Let it be known before I lose control of myself."

He placed his belt down on the dresser slowly. Never breaking the way he stared at her.

There was a real sense of fear permeating from her in that moment. A kiss or two had been stolen by former suitors. One of them had even managed to draw her into a moment of feverish petting that had been interrupted at the precise moment Eleanor had come to her senses about the stupid boy. But nothing more.

"What kind of woman do you take me for?" She asked, knowing full well the sort of woman she was. " You are well aware that I am unmarried."

"Unmarried women do not always walk through life without carnal knowledge." He surmised, taking a step towards her.

He would have taken strides to cross the room and taken her into his arms without further question were it not for the door opening behind him.

The candlestick that entered first causing Lady Eleanor to retreat back towards the window. The hand which gripped it tightly belonging to her friend, Lady Jane Corbett.

Jacob, in his haste to remove her, caught her in a delirious grip. The hand that reached out to strike him landing in an iron grip around her wrist that would surely leave a mark.

"You brute!!!" She screamed, throwing the candlestick down onto the wooden panelled floor. "I knew you were a fiend!"

He stomped the flame out. Eleanor stood watching in horror as the poor girl was tackled on to the bed. His hand pressed firmly against her mouth lest her screams alert others to the predicament.

"Have you lost your damn mind, girl?!"

It appeared that she had. Eleanor had known Lady Jane all her life. The two of them navigating the same social circles that their Fathers expected them to find suitable husbands within. Coming of age in the same month. Confiding in each other their distaste for all the eligible men who had come forward.

"Release her, immediately!" Eleanor flared, coming to her senses as she realised how harshly he had dealt with her.

He did as he was bade. Stepping away from the crying girl with his palms in the air. Defeat etched across his distraught face.

"I only meant to calm her, Lady Eleanor. You see how distressed she is."

"Indeed I do." Eleanor agreed, helping her friend to rise. "And what is the cause of this distress?"

"I am." He replied solemnly.

"Be more specific." She added, wiping the tears that fell down Lady Janes cheeks.

Jane, certain she had behaved foolishly as she began to sober, looked up at the kindness being shown to her and regretted her decision to follow them.

Jacob had been all that she could think of. Consumed entirely by him. She had been his first conquest after arriving at Belvoir a month ago. Inconsequential to him. A mere plaything. Regretfully rebuffing her repeated advances thereafter.

Lady Jane was a creature of habit. And he had drawn from her a habit she ached to have more of. But she was not pretty in the way that Eleanor was. Nor as interesting. Jacobs desire towards her waning almost the instant he had kissed her.

For that was all it had been. One kiss. In the day parlour downstairs after the Corbett family had been the first to win the race to welcome the new owners of the largest estate in the county. And it had driven the poor girl mad.

"Lady Jane, I meant you no harm." Jacob said softly, with the most kindness Eleanor had seen him muster. "But this has to stop. I have no intention towards you."

She was limp in Eleanor's arms. "There was an intention towards me the day you kissed me..."

It was all to much for her. The champagne and the music and the crushing realisation that Jacob had never wanted her. Turning to Eleanor, sinking her head into her open arms, she was lead back out into the corridor.

"Come along, Janey... let's find your Mammar and Pappar and see that you get yourself home." Eleanor coddled, striking Jacob with the most venomous stare.

He was still catching his breath. "I mean to have you, one way or another."

She caught his scent as she escorted her friend out. His words echoing as she left him stood there. Returning to the party felt like an unfinished symphony. The evening playing out much as she had imagined it would.

Lord Corbett bundled his daughter into their carriage and apologised for her demeanour. There was much talk of her drunkenness in whispers thereafter. For Eleanor it felt as if she had embarked on a journey she'd had no desire to travel. Her eyes moving towards the staircase as Jacob watched her from his elevated position.

Perhaps he was both charming tyrant and the man she had always needed. Her attention was solely transfixed on him. It didn't even matter that her friend had been broken by him. She knew she was willing to enter into whatever this was by any means necessary. What was disturbed that night would remain alight until the next opportunity, she was sure of it.

Midnight was fast approaching when he finally descended. Passing through the remaining guests, ever watchful of her. Greeting his younger brother, who was decidedly drunk enough to have abandoned his shoes somewhere. Elizabeth was asking far too many questions, the inane babble of the older women forcing Eleanor to address them just so that she didn't have to listen to it any longer.

"Yes, Lilibet. I think that one of them has taken over the use of my old room." She sighed, "How strange to think what was once ours is now theirs."

"I'm tired." The young girl complained, "You were gone for so long I got terribly bored and haven't stopped dancing all night. My feet hurt."

"Well, perhaps we should do as our hosts do and remove our shoes." She suggested, "And then I will suggest to Mother that we go home, how does that sound?"

"Yes." She agreed, resting her head diligently on her sister's shoulders. "I've had quite enough for one evening."

"As have I." Eleanor whispered. "As have I..."

When Samuel Kiszka had come calling for Elizabeth she had pouted for days that she had not been allowed to receive him. The rebuff had been taken personally with the Kiszka's making a hasty visit to Ivy Grange to enquire as to why their son was not good enough for the young Lady.

Elizabeth's 16th birthday was fast approaching. All her romantic notions seemed to burn a wildfire once she realised Samuel was interested in her. Insufferable, almost. Amongst the chaos of it all there was was no Gentleman callers at the door for Eleanor, and she began to feel as if she should have trusted her initial instinct about Jacob.

Mr. and Mrs. Kiszka were homely people. They had known struggle. Their position was not yet secured in society simply because they had purchased Belvoir Hall. They seemed to understand this as they sat, nervously, in the day parlour with Aunt Helen and Lady Anne.

"You understand our position, do you not?" Aunt Helen asked, offering them some more tea, even though they had already drunk more than one cup. "Elizabeth is not yet sixteen until the week after next and we cannot have suitors arriving before that time."

It was a fair excuse. One that made little sense. Eleanor had been forced to receive suitors well before she had turned sixteen and now that she was closer to twenty it appeared that there was one person she wished would call for her, after all.

"Well now, we had hoped that our son would pick wisely." Mrs. Kiszka explained, her accent slightly off-putting to the older women. "Lord knows, he needs himself a good wife. And I can assure you, if she picks Samuel, she will be able to return to Belvoir and will want for nothing."

"Be that as it may." Aunt Helen interjected, "Wealth and power are all very good but what is any of that without a title?"

Mr. Kiszka shuffled in his seat. "It seems to me that young Lady Elizabeth is sweet on our boy. And he seems to feel the same, should we not let the young ones decide?"

Aunt Helen was not perturbed in the slightest. "She's a flighty young thing. In love with love. It shall pass, I dare say."

Eleanor was seated by the piano, her nose in a book. Trying to keep herself from entering into the debate as she raged inwardly at Jacob's absence.

"In any case, he's the only one of our sons that has shown an interest in marriage. Our eldest boys are perpetual bachelors." Mrs.Kisza revealed, causing Eleanor to look up from her book. "They have both returned to Michigan to complete some business on behalf of their Father. We don't expect miracles, but if one of them should bring a wife back that would be one less worry."

Aunt Helen raised her cup for more tea to be poured. "And when do you expect them to return?"

"Next month." Mrs.Kiszka replied, her words ripping through Eleanor with such force, she audibly whined.

It drew their attention.

"Whatever is the matter, girl?" Aunt Helen asked, visibly troubled by the sound.

Eleanor put her book down and made her excuses.

"Forgive me, I do not feel quite well..."

It transpired that a month felt unrelenting when the heart was longing for something. He was her twin flame. A scoundrel that was on the same footing as she. She wanted him to ruin her, to love her so passionately that there would never be a parting such as this between them ever again. As the days rolled by, Eleanor found herself in a state of constant melancholy. Frustrated with herself for allowing such a thing to happen.

Elizabeth's birthday arrived with such fanfare that it felt to Eleanor as if she had been asleep for a very long time and had been forced to wake up for the occasion. Her heart was set on marrying Samuel. Who wanted her simply for her status and purity. He would take great delight in that on their wedding night. Which made Eleanor want to burn down Belvoir Hall, with all the damn Kiszka's inside it.

"Why am I not allowed to be in love?" Elizabeth asked, on the morning of her birthday, sitting in the day parlour eating breakfast opposite her sister.

"What a stupid thing to say." Eleanor replied, "Of course you're allowed to be in love."

She watched as Elizabeth spooned a heap of jam onto her bread. Spreading it thickly across the wedge before shoving it into her mouth with little decorum.

"I'm not allowed to be in love with Samuel Kiszka." She added, chewing at the same time. "But you're allowed to be in love with Jacob. I do not find that fair."

Eleanor's head shot up. Her appetite completely withdrawn.

"I am not in love with Jacob Kiszka." She said pointedly, pushing her plate aside.

Throwing her a knowing look, Elizabeth rose from the table and brushed off the crumbs from her dress.

"I'm going to marry Samuel. And you're going to marry Jacob. And we're both going home to Belvoir. And there really isn't much you can do about it." She stated, skulking off to enjoy the rest of her birthday without Eleanor's incessant brooding.

Jacob hadn't known how he would feel upon his early return. The rolling hills of the Kent countryside filling him with a sense of serenity as the carriage rumbled on from the port at Liverpool. Sat opposite his twin and the bride he had brought with him that would surely make their Mother so happy that his absence would be barely noted if he jumped out and walked the rest of the way to Ivy Grange.

The mid summer heat was intense that day. So warm that he threw his coat over his shoulder as he disembarked. The crossroads that lead to Ivy Grange stretched out in the opposite direction of the road to Belvoir Hall.

"Tell Ma I'll be home later." He called, watching the carriage roll on without him.

With the sun beating down so fiercely, Eleanor took refuge in the conservatory. The glass panelled room was airy and light, with all manner of plants growing in the atrium to keep her shaded. It was the one room at Ivy Grange that Aunt Helen had insisted on. With the expanse of gardens below, the view was something to behold. And it kept her distracted whilst the house was busy preparing a birthday feast.

And then he was there. Completely unexpected. She was uncertain at first as she squinted into the midday sun. His form appearing at the bottom of the driveway, walking up the lawn with his coat draped across his shoulder. His shirt unbuttoned. Oh, that damned shirt.

She flew to the conservatory door almost flinging it off it's hinges as she ran to him. The ribbon in her hair trailing behind her wildly, her dress coming up about her knees as she flew down the lawn. He threw down his coat as she approached, opening his arms for her to reach.

He caught her in a spin. Lifting her off the ground. Wasting no more time to give in to the temptations which had been there since the very first moment. She allowed him to do as he pleased. No longer caring for propriety. He placed her firmly to the ground, lifting her chin to meet his waiting lips.

Her foot rising back as he kissed her. It was not a gentle kiss, nor befitting the sort of kiss that should be a first. He was enamoured by the way she seemed as possessed as he, her fingers knotting through his hair as she fought to have her fill of him. Her mouth opening beneath his, welcoming his tongue as if she had wilted at his request.

"You were gone..." She cried through the warm breath of his mouth against hers. "You left me..."

Her reproach was a dagger to his heart. Gripping her shoulders tightly he thought of the breadth of the country he had travelled to return to her. The way he had wrapped up his business in Michigan a fortnight early to make the odyssey back to her. He thought of how Joshua had begged him to stay, their hearts torn into two halves as Jacob pined for Eleanor and Joshua found a love to call his own. They had fought over it. And reconciled over it.

"You will never know what I have endured to be here...to return to you..." He said, so uncommonly soft, his hands resting at the crook of her neck.

She didn't need to. It was laid bare in his eyes as he peered down at her, desperate for more. In haste, she pulled him down the lawn towards the line of beech tree's that secluded the view of the pond from the house.

Pulling at his shirt, freeing him of it as he gathered her dress within the curl of his fists and reached inside the fold of her petticoat. He laid her down on the soft, summer grass. In the shade of the beeches. Her hair fell free of her ribbon, cascading down to reveal tresses of long dark waves. He held his breath against the sight of her.

"I have thought of nothing but this." He confessed, sliding her petticoat up the length of her thighs.

He parted her knees slowly, sending ripples of arousal through her core as he slipped his cold palm up the inside of her legs. She was breathing heavily, her bosom rising and falling against the tightness of her corset.

It was in his mind to take her then and there. The way she pleaded with him, her arms reaching out for his body to covet her.

"Will you be wanting it rough?" He asked, lifting her leg to rest upon his shoulder as he pulled down her stockings. "Or would my Lady like to be serenaded?"

She giggled helplessly. His eyes resting on the wet, gilded pinkness of her core.

"Whatever Sir desires..." She replied playfully.

Eleanor had never seen a man's desire before. She watched him closely, pulling down his trousers to reveal himself. Her eyes widened at the size of it. The way it seemed to be weeping at the tip, the pulse of the veins running down the shaft and how he gripped it fervently in his hand as he ran his curled fist up and down, taking the flesh with it.

"You are a virgin, Lady Eleanor." He said, a fact she had never truly revealed but one that he had known regardless. "I'll not be taking it from you too coarsely."

"Take it from me however you wish, Jacob. Like my heart, it is yours."

He lifted her with careful arms, pulling at the lace of her corset just enough for her breasts to spill over the lace edging of her dress. He marvelled at the round, soft peaks of her hard nipples. Not too big, not too small. Just enough to fill the cup of his hand.

"Take me, Jacob, please...I am begging you..."

She would only cry out in pain.

"No, my Lady...I will not take it from you in the manner I have taken it from others. If my being gentle with you the first time means that you will not think me a brute...as the others did... then I will court you with more aggression afterwards." He came down to her, pressing his hardness against her thigh. "Perhaps on our wedding night I will fuck you in all the ways you desire."

She balked at the way he said it so casually. Without asking for her hand, without formally putting forth his intentions to her Mother and Aunt first.

"You intend to marry me?!" She asked, her voice breaking on the prospect that everything Elizabeth had said that morning being prophecy.

He smirked. A dangerous look that made her begin to weep, too, from her aching centre.

"Oh, my love... look at the way you ready yourself for me."

He swept a poised thumb over her swollen, slippery lips. Immediately her body responded by arching. Moaning a muffled pitch of a sound that drove him to insanity. Her breasts lilting to the side, bottom lip held between her gritted teeth.

She felt like moist silk. He probed a finger at her entrance, pushing it in slowly to her tight walls. Her hips instinctually grinding against the sensation, pushing him to slide a second digit inside.

"The tightest little thing I have ever felt." He said in breathless confessions, leaning over the body as if to claim it for his own. "May I taste you, my love?"

There it was again, that word. That name. She nodded feverishly as he gathered the fabric of her dress and slid down to greet her waiting virginity. His mouth connected with her slit and she let out the most pained shriek. As if a banshee had possessed her. Never had anything felt so consumingly arousing.

As he flayed his tongue against her wet, throbbing clitoris she continued in her song. Whining pitifully against his moving jaw. Feeling how he moaned, too. The taste of her filling his mouth. Swallowing it like sweet honey. Flicking the tip of his tongue inside her as if to elicit more flow.

"Oh dear God...I am going to hell..." She said through agonised cries.

When he appeared from the peak of her mound, he was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand slovenly.

"If hell is a place where I get to do this every night of my life, I willingly submit myself to the devil himself."

Anyone could have chanced upon them. Taking the risk into consideration, she pulled him up to meet her mouth once more and there tasted herself on the tongue which brushed against hers.

"I fear we may be seen." She said, taking a moment to appreciate the way he had finally been romantic with her. "I would have a thousand sweet words from you and a thousand moments like this, but we are not yet married...and I fear we will be caught..."

It was as though he had just made the most astonishing discovery of all time. The way his eyes moved down to her breasts, his mouth following to suckle gently on her hard nipple. She felt as if she might die if he did not do what he intended. The awareness of his body so complete. Virgin or no, she wanted to be taken in any way that would mean she could be free of the mounting frustration.

She had thought he would not heed her words. But the next moment took her to somewhere lingering above the hell she had feared. A hot, searing fire tore through her middle for the briefest of moments as he entered her. But it was not hell that came for her. As the pain subsided, she felt his body weight on top of her moving slowly in thrusts that made her feel as if she had never known pleasure til this moment.

With one hand he lifted her leg to wrap around his waist. His voice low and gruff, his panting warm against her ear. Eleanor, in the midst of it, lapped her tongue against his ear lobe which made him squeeze down on her hip much tighter, leaving reddened marks in her flesh.

"Be loyal to me always..." He demanded whilst pumping into her freshly broken walls. "I must know that I am the only man you will ever love..."

It was his ego talking. The desperate love pouring out in a jealousy that had yet to be seen. Eleanor did not care. The intensity of his eyes had drawn her in long ago. She would have permitted him anything.

"Only you...I swear it..." She replied in hushed tones, feeling him grow quicker in his pace.

All too soon he had begun to fuck into her with all the force of a man who had been driven mad. She took such delight in the way he cast aside his gentleness in favour of depravity. His body falling forward into her bouncing breasts, the fabric in his fists almost tearing at the seams.

The balmy breeze caressed their skin. Jacob feeling near to completion, he pulled out of her slowly and tried to calm his nerves as his coated tip rested against her entrance. A moment he wanted to savour. His thumb running along her moistened mouth, her tongue lapping against it. His mouth lilting open in response.

"I want to see you finish, my love..." He said breathlessly, "Do you understand me?"

Eleanor had a small idea. In the whispers she had heard exchanged between her married friends. Of the crescendo at the end of love making, which sometimes came to them and sometimes did not.

"How will I know?" She asked innocently.

Jacob's smirk returned to his mouth as he kissed her passionately.

"Oh, you sweet girl...you will know. I promise." He assured her, returning his hard cock to the wet warmth of her.

He lightly tapped at her clit with his thumb, making a rhythm on it that made her entire body ascend. He pumped harder, so hard the grass began to give way beneath her into the earth below. Dark smears of mud grazing her hands as he reached for something to hold on to. That would tell her all of this was real.

"Oh, Eleanor..." He grunted, his entire body convulsing above her as he released his seed within her.

The crescendo did not happen as she had imagined it. Not at the same time his did, but after. When he was steadying his breathing and his thrusting had ceased. When his thumb pressed against her clit and she felt the moon and stars of night come out in the middle of the day.

"Oh....my.....goodness.....Oh....."

It would have been easy for Lady Eleanor Hanover to remain unwed for the rest of her life. Languishing at Ivy Grange, haunting the old place like her Aunt did. She was not the romantic little thing her sister was. But still, she found herself in an entanglement she could not free herself of.

Some said that she married beneath her on the day she gave up her title for the man she loved. Others were enamoured by the way their story seemed to be one of love. Lady Jane Corbett stood with silent tears trailing down her veiled face as she watched from the church pews. Vows echoing down the aisle.

And she did return to Belvoir, in the end. 

.

.

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@caprisunsister @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon y @char289 @dancingcarbon @gvfpal @violetstarcatcher

[tfisathoughtfulnickelbakeryfire]

I want to write a Sugar Baby AU where the person providing the money is sort of the epitome of class and grace but is also down bad for their sugar baby to the point where people are either really annoyed or really curious, because who is this beautiful, wonderful, classy human being who has this rich, powerful figurehead of high society wrapped around their finger? And also how soon can they be introduced because Lord knows the rich person won't shut the fuck up about the love of their life.

And then, through some situation, mayhaps one of those rich people charity galas, the sugar baby is introduced.

And they're just.

An absolute Dirtbag.

With a capital D.

Not necessarily a bad person, though perhaps a bit morally grey to the average citizen's standards, but definitely the type of motherfucker to stroll into a fancy party wearing a leather jacket, a stained t-shirt, no shoes, and a slutty pair of sweatpants just to say hello to their sugar daddy by giving them an absolutely filthy kiss, then steal a bunch of shrimp, a martini glass full of olives, and a bottle of champagne just for funsies.

And everybody there is like: "This is your beautiful, perfect, innocent sugar baby who you think can do no wrong and who you're in love with?"

And the sugar daddy, still red in the face from the kiss, is like: "Uh-huh, yeah, yup, that's them."

And the sugar baby just throws up a peace sign and says, "Cheers, motherfuckers," through a mouthful of shrimp and olives as they leave, opening the champagne as they go and chugging like a third of it at once, kind of Eleanor Shellstrop style. They also let out a monster belch as they reach the door, because of the bubbles, obviously, and everybody is just fucking flabbergasted, because the sugar daddy (a man who has an original Van Gogh chilling in his house and a slightly concerning obsession with unique/vintage buttons) very obviously could not be more enamoured.

[rpfofficial]

incredibly delayed reaction cause i got this information yesterday and it hid in my brain until it jumped at me right now to make me Understand it. ethan. are you watching. black sails???? *starts vibrating*

HI ELLIOT & good morning. Yes you understood correctly i finally watched the first episode last night and woagh. i ❤️ boat media. i ❤️ the sea. and i ❤️ pilot episodes that are so crazy and full of colour and plot threads and have insane ending scenes that set up what im sure will be a wild ride of a show. so far i really like mr gates and billy, im enamoured with eleanor and her beautiful girlfriend whose name i don't think i got, and ohhhhhb my god flint captain flint. fascinating man. toby stephens is so powerful. i don't have much else to say obviously it hasn't gotten super crazy yet. what the hell is john silver up to. i find him kind of annoying. Anyway. the set design and costume design go so hard like it feels tangible, the textures and colours combined with the lighting and colouring of the show itself? delightful. delectable. the style of it all alone is enough to make me want to keep watching 😁😁😁😁😁😁

[baublecoded]

“Philip I’s son by his marriage duly succeeded, unthreatened by children of Bertrada, and in his reign royal authority began to matter more in French politics. His son succeeded in turn as Louis VII, and hugely augmented his lands by marrying Eleanor of Aquitaine in 1137. By the customary law of the time she had inherited it in the absence of brothers. He was enamoured of her but she may have been, or became, less committed to him. She went on the Second Crusade with him but there were tensions between them, publicly noted. Louis and Eleanor were within the forbidden degrees and there was talk of an annulment. On the way back from the crusade, however, when they stopped at the papal court, Eugenius III made emotional and temporarily successful efforts to reconcile them, giving them what sounds like some kind of dispensation, both verbally and in writing. It has not survived and appears to have had no impact on the annulment of their marriage by a council of French prelates at Beaugency in 1152. In consequence Louis lost all of Aquitaine to Eleanor’s new husband, Henry II of England. This suggests that the problem between them was more personal than political. It is true that Eleanor had not yet given him a son, but they had not been married so long, and both had male offspring later. Without the tension between them, Louis might well have settled for hanging on to Aquitaine and trying a little longer for an heir.”

— D. L. d'Avray, Dissolving Royal Marriages

[angelcake12171]

Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine is the 2017 debut novel by Gail Honeyman, and the winner of the 2017 Costa Debut Novel Award. The story centres on Eleanor Oliphant, a social misfit with a traumatic past who becomes enamoured with a singer, whom she believes she is destined to be with.

This book was a little depressing, though I liked how we the readers don't completely know what's really happening to the main character until near the end, it's has a happy ending (or at least I think is some what happy) and it explains how someones delusions can feel like reality to them, it it's done in such a way that we also fallow along the same delusion, and are equally shocked at finding out the truth. Well that's what it was like to me, maybe others figured what was happening sooner then the book intended, or maybe it was intended for the readers to figure out from the beginning, I honestly don't know. All I can say was this book was interesting even though it left me a little depressed. And somewhat confused at times, though I think that was the books intention.

Check it out at your nearest library if you want!

[wrixie]

> I now pronounce you husband and wife!

[bibliosims]

✧ Karim Sahli for @wrixie's ENAMOURED with ELEANOR Bachelorette Challenge ✧

▸ Karim Sahli (he/him) | 34 | Pansexual

Traits: Foodie, Dog Lover, and Slob

Likes: Cooking, Handiness, Retro & Jazz Music, Dogs, Thrillers, the Cooking Channel, Spicy Foods

Dislikes: Video Games, Slow Walkers, Pranks, Picky Eaters, Bad Drivers, Being Late, Sweets

Born in Willow Creek, Karim was raised by his single mother who taught him how to cook. Cooking quickly became a passion of his, and after graduating with a distinguished degree for culinary arts from the University of Britechester, Karim moved to San Myshuno to pursue his culinary career. After getting some experience under his belt, Karim settled down in Del Sol Valley where he became a sous chef at a renowned restaurant. It’s in the back alley of this restaurant where he met the dog who would become his best friend, Angus. Having dedicated most of his life to his culinary career, Karim never had the time to focus on his love life. But now that he’s settled down and financially stable, Karim has high hopes that he may find a special someone yet…

Fun Facts:

▸Has a bullmastiff named Angus. He loves all animals, but he's very fond of large dogs. Small animals stress him out because he's afraid he'll step on one and hurt it (but he loves them nonetheless).

▸ Despite keeping an impeccable kitchen at work, at home Karim finds himself too busy to maintain a clean and orderly environment.

▸ He visits his mother at least twice a week in Willow Creek. She loves it when he cooks for her.

▸ His mother keeps nagging him about finding a partner. She tells him she's waited long enough for grandkids. He acts offended that she doesn't consider Angus her grandchild.

▸ He has perpetual wrinkles between his eyebrows because he frowns a lot. His coworkers say he's too judgy of a person, but Karim can't help himself.

▸ Between caring for his mother and training his former-stray dog, Karim is a surprisingly patient person.

[elmleif]

Houston Langley for Enamoured with Eleanor by @wrixie ⛓️

About Houston:

•Age- 31

•Career- Freelance Digital Artist

•Traits- Gloomy, Creative, Family Oriented

Houston was raised in Brindleton Bay with his mothers and two sisters. Growing up in a household of women, Houston learned to express and be in touch with his emotions from a young age (he just ended up with way more emotions than expected) He’s since moved to San Myshuno where he works remotely designing album art and merch for local bands. When Houston isn’t weeping to lifetime movies he enjoys going to shows at his local bar, where he usually ends up drunk crying over his sad love life or how much he misses the subway rats he befriended on his way there. This big beefy crybaby feels like it’s finally time to settle down and start a family, street cats and sewer rats just don’t fill the gaping void in his heart anymore.

(in my mind him and Ellie would be like a far more chaotic version of April & Andy from Parks and Rec, but if Andy was mixed with Charlie from It’s Always Sunny) (i’m sorry I know that’s so specific I just had to add this bc it’s exactly how I see him i just can’t put it in words lol)

[fawnbegone]

kade shepard for @wrixie's enamored with eleanor

originally from oasis springs, kade dreamed of going to college and getting his arts degree; but after the birth of his daughter, that plan was scrapped. now he’s working in a tattoo shop, trying to get something out of his drawing skills and providing for his daughter, peyton.

he tries to be happy with what he has, but deep down he knows he’s lonely and wants someone by his (and peyton’s) side

fun facts about kade:

is non-contact with most of his family

can’t cook for shit..poor peyton

has a lizard named puka shell

never learned how to drive

he carpools to work a lot lol

allergic to tomatoes ??

was homeless at one point

will be a private download if chosen!! may upload publicly if anyone else wants it :)

[doodle-dee]

Noa Reid for @wrixie 's

° Noa Reid(He/Him) Bisexual

° Age: 32

° Traits: Loves Outdoors, Family-Oriented, Loner

° Like(s): Yellow,Black,Pop Music, Winter Holiday Music, Guitar, Comedy, Gardening

° Dislike(s): Alternative Music, Spooky Music, Mischief, Cooking.

—

Fun Facts

- He was born and raised on the island. Though moved to the city once he got older, that's where he met the twins mom

- Big stickler for dad jokes. Thats literally all he tells is dad jokes

- Only ever been in one relationship

- Has a sleeve tattoo

- When he needs time to himself he would go garden, or just go enjoy the nature outside

- A big Christmas guy

- Plays guitar, sometimes even for money if times get really tight

- he really doesn't know how to open up or rely on other people. For the main reason he's had to take care of his kids on his own, and himself for quite some time. So he's only relied on himself, so he does struggle with that.

—

Noa Reid is a father to two beautiful twins. Both the age of 7. They were birthed by their mother Rita Field, a ginger blued eyes woman. Unfortunately Rita passed away when the twins were at the age of 2, leaving Noa to be a single father to the twins. Over the years he has been taking care of them. Doing whatever he could to keep them all afloat, whether it be by getting extra jobs, odd jobs, or simply doing whatever could get him some money. He eventually closed himself off to everyone(hence the Loner trait), being a bit too busy for anything other then caring for his children. One of those being finding love.

He's gonna on a few dates whenever he could, but they never went the right way. For multiple of reasons. Some being that no one wanted to be a parent to two set of children, so it was a lose Iose. He just stopped going on to dates all together, until well when he found this. He was interested but would quickly detest it. Until his twins gave him the go ahead, and let him know they want him to he happy. So with them in mind, and himself he's here trying to find love. Maybe he could soon find the one..

—

[buglaur]

enda keogh for @wrixie‘s enamoured with eleanor

twenty-nine years old

he/they

self-assured, art lover, hates children

enda’s a britechester boy. he’s worked as the cashier in a little newsagent for the past six years, but it’s really not where he wants to be. he’s always had a passion for the arts. drawing, painting, sculpting, you name it. he’s recently gone back to pursue a college degree in fine arts and wants to hopefully make a living from selling his artwork.

romance and starting a family have just never made their way onto the cards for enda. of course there’ve been a few relationships in the past, however none of them have ever come to fruition. he’s coming to a stage now where he’s looking for something more stable, so finding the right partner to settle down with when he graduates is a top priority. renting out a cozy apartment, moving in with a significant other and raising a ridiculous amount of kittens is what he really wants for the future. no kids though, unless you can change his mind, but he’s pretty stubborn with his belief that a child is just way too much effort and responsibility.