I did meet him. It was thrilling at first, thought I know I shouldn’t have done it. I slipped out of my room a few moments after I heard Mr. Clayton close his door below me. I waited in the hall for quite a long time before I crept downstairs.
William was waiting for me in the study. I actually peaked into the room and watched him for a few moments before I went in. He lit just one small lamp and built a cozy little fire.
He beamed when I came in and was so distracted that he tripped over a little end table and sent if to the floor. We both stood perfectly still waiting for our vigilant chaperone to spring in on both of us - of course it never happened. The look on his face was priceless! Then we both broke out in stifled laughter as he set things right.
William had also arranged a small picnic for us. Somehow he managed to smuggle in a delicious loaf of bread, a little bit of cheese, and a rather large bottle of wine, along with the glasses and a knife. He described how he brought each item in here, one by one, right under Mr. Clayton’s nose. By the end of his story were giggling so hard we could barely drink.
I am a little embarrassed…fine…a lot embarrassed. We both must have had a little too much to drink. That and the warm comfortable atmosphere of the event went to my head. We were sitting very close to eachother when William said, “C’est un moment à trésor.” I was surprised and told him so. I didn’t know he spoke French. He laughed again and said he did it very poorly then slipped his arm around me and kissed me.
It wasn’t like the little kisses we have shared before. It was slow and soft at first. Then it grew into something more - it was passionate. All the emotions we have kept hidden, the love and the fear, were coming out at once. His embrace grew more and more possessive. His body was hard and demanding against mine. Then I felt cold panic bloom in my chest and I tried to pull away. He wouldn’t let go and I shoved him back. He fell to the floor and cursed.
I was immediately apologizing. I didn’t mean to. He got up and walked out! He went upstairs and left me alone. I regret having gone to him. I made an awful mess of it all and am not looking forward to the inevitable discomfort tomorrow morning.
I am so childish! Why did I do it? But what would have happened if I hadn’t?
I’m not experienced in these things! I hate it. I wish I were sophisticated and elegant. I have made a mess of it all! I have embarrassed and disappointed him.
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The diary of Elizabeth Whetherby - A Historic Fiction
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