It was a type of magnetism that nudged her closer, some kind of attraction. It was an invisible force, of sorts, that drew out the desire from deep within, that sprang forth the want. Her mind was rarely as cloudy and weak as it was just then, so distant and foreign that she could barely comprehend her own thoughts.
Though, to be fair, it was more than an unidentifiable pull that caused her half-lidded eyes to drown in lust and confusion. His breath warming her lips, so temptingly, certainly was to blame. His hand, as it curled around hers possessively, must have contributed to the fluttering of her heart. And the look, evidently similar to her own, that his eyes absorbed so plainly, so openly, had to have been a factor. It made well enough sense, anyway.
But when their lips actually connected, when they finally, finally met, the burning feeling that dwelled in the pit of her stomach inflamed.
The book that had been resting in the crook of her elbow clattered against the rough surface of the stone patio, the sound stifled by snow.
Her other hand entwined with his, cheeks reddening with heat. The pressure was becoming immense, the passion building. She felt as though she could have exploded from the pleasure.
Courtney closed her eyes fully, and drank in the sensation.
*******
The morning after.
An odd thought, since the epilogue is never a focal point.
It’s the one moment of magnificence that attracts an audience. The single moment where everything is right, everything is perfect. Beyond that, no one cares. No one wants to see how the Princess lived after her fairy-tale wedding. No one wants to hear about the marital problems, the stresses, the aggravation. What they want, what everyone wants, is a clean, pleasant little ‘happily-ever-after’. Because when you hear that suddenly, everything isn’t quite right, that everything isn’t quite so happy and perfect, you cast doubt on your own happy ending. If Cinderella can’t make it, then who can? Surely, there’s no hope for anyone else. The whole concept of love is futile, if it will only end in ruins.
Courtney stroked her cheek thoughtfully, holding onto the gaze of her reflection.
There had been something real, no doubt. What she had felt was certainly more than just the effect of reckless teenage ambition for lust. It’d been true, it’d been honest. Not that it changed who she was.
Higher, better. Worth so much more.
They weren’t her thoughts alone, though, they were those of the society. They were the rules. And she had no choice but to abide by them.
Because it was a jail cell, she knew. No matter how lavish and rich its furnishings were, how warm and tempting, elegant and extravagant it might be, she still lived within a cell. There were still barred walls that closed in around her, tightening until she had suffered under her peer’s scrutiny to the fullest extent.
And though the flurry of dresses and tailcoats were pretty in another’s perspective, the reality was truly quite ugly.
Judgment had its own seat at the dinner table, as it narrowed its eyes on weaknesses, flaws that had gone unchecked. Mistakes that should never have been made were clear in its keen sight, nothing went unnoticed.
So it had been, so it was. And she loved it.
You would think living in a straightjacket would be horrible, unbearable. Indisputably, it was—unless, that is, you were good at it.
And such was Courtney’s life.
She was the one peering over opera glasses and curling her lips into slow, endearing little smiles. She was the one who kept an eye sharp, improvement the first and only thought on her mind. Her own success came before anything else, her own small rivalries filling tedious daily activities. The need to succeed, to be the best— it was always there. It was always a part of her, this scheming life that consumed her. Seventeen flawless, bright years it had been, until her perfect little world experienced a quake.
No doubt, it was sudden. No doubt, it was unsuspected. Yet so subtle, so sneaky, she couldn’t have seen the changes right away, couldn’t have detected them. And somehow, it managed to break her down.
He managed to break her down. That boy, that stupid, filthy boy.
It’d started out as nothing, his little quips and smirks as he snapped the reins of her carriage. She should’ve noticed his interest immediately, thinking back now, it’d been so obvious. His hand and the way it lingered slightly as he helped her down after a ride through the park, the way he drove a bit too quickly, as if to gain her annoyance— her attention. He seemed to have no consideration for the fact that it was far out of his place. He didn’t seem to care.
Though she noticed its escalation, no doubt. What had once been inappropriate, loitering gazes and knowing half-smiles, as though he could read her like a newspaper, rose to bolder advances. Letting her slip on the carriage step, only to catch her by the waist, something one would consider an innocent act of kindness. Courtney knew better. Whispers of desire that no one but she caught, promises of lips and hands and heat. Duncan’s fingers brushing by the soft fabric of her dress, as if to tempt her. There were quiet little ideas that he could suggest without a word, but conveyed with lust that lingered in the depth of his eyes.
As it was her duty as an honorable lady, Courtney managed to look past these flirtations. She wouldn’t dare stoop to his level, she wouldn’t dream of it. She had no business with the likes of him, none at all.
Yet…
His eyes were such a passionate blue, they held hers with such intent. And his arms were strong with experience, not due to of use of an engraved gold fountain pen like all of the indulged, primped boys she danced with, but as a result of true, hard labor. He’d seem the world, he’d served it. He was part of it. While Courtney, in contrast, had barely experienced a taste. And though she hated it, despised it, tried to rid herself of it, there was a part of her that wanted nothing more than to understand him. Part of her held this undeniable need, this thirst to discover him, to be with him.
And that was exactly what she got.
She’d been reading in the garden, soaking in what warmth the winter sun still had to offer as it hung low in the hazy pink sky, a lit candle perched at her side, when she heard the crunching of slush and ice from before her. She’d raised her eyes, met his, noticed the cold flush in the apples of his cheek, the red of his lips from the wind, his clenched, determined fists. She’d taken in the hunger that consumed his well-sculpted features, knowing he wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t wait— …and…
Courtney felt herself waver slightly at the memory. The brightness of his eyes… the obvious strength of his jaw… and the kiss—
A quick shake of her head pushed the recollection of her thoughts. Why was she reminiscing? She regretted her actions, didn’t she? Of course, if anyone were to find out, it would be the end of her. No inheritance, no future. No life.
Not to mention what people would think, what they’d say. She could hear the gossip already. Kissing her driver… disgraceful… I always thought she was such a nice girl, well brought up… just goes to show…
But tonight she would put it all behind her, and move on. No more. It ended here.
“Your mother calls for you,”
Blinking out of the midst of thought, Courtney bowed her head, signaling the maid to leave. She glanced into her mirror, looking over the extravagance of her up-do and the glamour of the pearls at her neck. Her eyes travelled down the pastel pink silk of her full dress, with its carefully detailed elegance, and down to the curved point of her slippers. Pulling the top of the ivory gloves that hid her forearms so they were clean and straight, she rose to her feet and left the comfort of her room, pressing a smile to her lips. She met her mother at the top of the grand staircase, clasped her fingers against the skirt of her dress, and held her breath.
Dark eyes ran up the length of her body with scrutiny, and Courtney rolled her shoulders back instinctively. Her mother pursed her lips, and moved to fix a strand of tousled hair out of her daughter’s eyes. Satisfied, the woman turned away.
“Lovely,” she said coolly, a sign of her approval. Placing a slender hand on the banister, she relaxed her shoulders and settled into a state of true, honest grace. Following the lead of her mother, Courtney moved in time, descending down the glossy staircase, one small step at a time. The marble clicked beneath the heels of her shoes.
The Great Hall was littered with the finest aristocrats London had to offer. It was mesmerizing, the way the collection of socialites seemed to glisten under the warm light of the crystal chandelier that hung impressively from the high ceiling of the room. Courtney’s eyes grazed the intricate detailing of the wallpaper, sliding over one clever painting to the next. Ornate sculptures and freshly-cut flowers filled the room with extravagance, with warm hues of gold and red and royal blue that proposed a firm sense of self-importance. Every corner was lavishly furnished, every nook exaggerated with luxuries one couldn’t help but admire wholeheartedly. At any rate, her family found no limit in proudly boasting their wealth. No one did.
“Miss Hughes—there you are. Now, let me have a look at you.”
Courtney felt her hands being embraced by those of a middle-aged, stout woman with hair that was obviously beginning to gray. The woman must have been of some relation to her, a distant cousin of sorts, so at the bottom step she smiled charmingly and straightened her back.
“My, what an exquisite, acceptable lady you’ve become. I remember you as a child, so well-mannered, so polite…” The lady smiled, the red of her lips stretching into her full cheeks. After an acutely timed moment, she let go of Courtney’s fingers and turned her round face to her mother. “And Grace, dear.” She directed the warm smile to Mrs. Hughes, who stood with one hand clasped on her daughter’s shoulder.
“Amelia, it has been too long,” she purred, the words coated sweetly. But Courtney picked up on the undertone, the hidden meaning. Her mother’s friend, however, did not notice the subtleties.
“You must come for tea one day soon. I’ve missed your company, Grace. Truly I have.”
And Mrs. Hughes nodded with a smile, falsely promising her attendance. Of course, of course she would come for tea. She would love to. There was nothing she would rather do than spend the day with her —overeager, wearisome, pathetically hopeless, glutinous excuse for a— dear old friend. It would be sheer delight.
Feeling a nudge from her mother’s hand after several minutes of conversing, Courtney knew it was time for her to leave. She batted her eyelashes sweetly and stepped to the side. “It has been wonderful seeing you once more, Misses Thorne— I wish I could stay to speak with you for longer, but there are so many guests to be greeted, as you know.” With an approving nod from her mother’s friend, Courtney slid from the chatter of the two women and mixed into the throng of people.
Snippets of gossip reached her ears. Nasty, horrid things that shouldn’t have been muttered above a whisper, things that should have been kept hush-hush. But London did not know secrets. It knew things that caused knowing smirks, giggles that rose above the den. It knew of small impurities, little shameful incidents that, in time, would wither away. But Courtney knew her secret was desired, that it was wanted. Such a secret could ruin her, if it was ever found out.
But no— no. No one would ever know. It couldn’t, would not happen. Courtney had just to keep quiet, she had to keep it locked up. Besides, the only other person who knew was—
A feeling of nausea passed through her. Oh, God. Oh, oh, oh no. He could… would… and he… oh, damn…
There was no way, no force on earth that would make her let him breath a word of it. She would stop any of his intentions in their tracks. If anyone found out— she didn’t even want to think about it. No, it wouldn’t happen. She wouldn’t allow it.
Courtney relaxed her tense shoulders, and exhaled slowly. With a dainty —though forced— smile, she weaved through the crowd, slipping into the back hallway. She hurried, escaping through the kitchen and out into the back garden. It was unoccupied, though, and for a moment Courtney wondered exactly what she’d been thinking. A consequence of her impulsiveness came in the form of a gust of cool wind that slapped the side of her face suddenly, extracting a loud yelp of discomfort.
“Careful, it’s rather windy.”
Her ears pricked the voice from behind. Had she been followed?
Feeling her cheeks warm with embarrassment, Courtney turned to the sound. She was about to apologize, when she caught sight of the voice’s owner.
“You—”
Standing there, with a smug little grin and glinting blue eyes, Courtney could not help but loathe him. Her anger rose, and for the first time so far that night, she couldn’t have cared less about how she looked.
Her lips were already parted and ready to scold him, to tell him off, when Duncan turned his shoulder and started towards the house.
“Excuse me! I’d like a word with you! Don’t turn your back on—”
A clever look met her. “Yes, well, if you’re going to yell at me, I’d rather you do it in indoors. But by all means, stay out in the cold.”
Courtney’s mouth hung open for a moment, before she closed it and picked up her skirts to head for the door. She gave him a look of fiery dislike, and stepped into the garage where they kept their summer carriages. It was empty, save the coaches, of course, and so Courtney didn’t hesitate to raise her voice.
“Last night never happened. It never occurred. And I’d like it very much if it was forgotten. What you did was unacceptable, and you should know that your job is hanging by a thread.”
She waited for him to quiver, to admit defeat— something. But he smiled at her, a true smile, and sauntered over to a stagecoach to pull open the door and climb inside. Growling, Courtney crossed her arms and stomped over to his side. “You shouldn’t be in there,” she told him, despising the way he lazily spread himself across the red velvet.
Giving her a challenging look, he shifted slightly, and nodded to the empty space beside him, a space just large enough for her. “Come, sit.”
Cheeks now burning at the request, both from anger and the inappropriate pass, she shook her head and gripped the slim door handle, leaning closer. “No. Now, come out and—”
Duncan slid over even more, and offered the spot again. “Sit. We’ll talk.”
The desire to rip the calm expression out of him was strong. “You are insufferable.” She spat, unwillingly climbing into the vehicle as well. It was a feat to get the bustle of her skirts through the small door, but she finally managed to clamber in. She collapsed beside him, gloves now wrinkled and messy from the effort, and gripped onto her pride. “Now, I don’t believe I was in the correct mindset last night, and you were wrong to have—”
But she was cut off as Duncan’s hand slid up to hold the side of her jaw tenderly. Her brow furrowed at the touch.
Though, it was a rather nice touch…
“Duncan, stop—”
He didn’t let go. His thumb slid roughly across her lower lip, and his eyes attached to hers.
It sent a rush down her spine.
And the sincerity in his eyes was gripping at her, something she couldn’t ignore. Honesty was rare for her, and seeing it so plainly before her—
Oh, this was wrong…
“Why do you do it?” He asked, with little concern for her virtue.
“What?” She mumbled, eyes blinking fearfully. What was he doing to her? Her mind was screaming, thrashing and yelling to tear away. But she couldn’t. She was captivated. By his touch, by his voice, by the scent of him that was surely lingering on her now. She was starting feeling lost once more.
He moved towards her, letting their noses brush. “Why do you let them have you? Why do you give them what they want?”
His lips travelled to the spot below her ear. The feeling ran through Courtney, and she breathed in sharply. Her skin tingled. His breath wrapped her in a sudden warmth as he spoke. “You’re different, I know it. You want things your own way… you don’t need to follow their rules, Courtney…”
So… so wrong…
She gave a helpless little gasp, lids heavy. The way her name sounded from his lips, right in her ear, slow and thoughtful… as though only he knew how to say it…
Goosebumps pricked along her arms.
His fingers ran along the side of her face tenderly. “You could get away. You could leave all of this, you know.”
Duncan’s lips travelled across her cheek, finally meeting hers. His eyes were open only a sliver, still watching her, as he pressed his lips down with slight force. It made Courtney’s racing heart accelerate.
Wrong, so unbelievably wrong…
“I can give it to you… I can take you away from this… I can show you what it’s like… I can teach you…” He whispered, promises between kisses, feeding the temptation. “Would you live like that? Would you be with me always, Miss Hughes? I can show you…”
Yes… she wanted to be with him… she couldn’t begin to imagine not kissing him, not being overwhelmed. Not being able to enjoy the feel of his lips on hers, his breath on her skin…
…his hand, as it slid up higher and higher on her waist—
“Oh!” She exclaimed in a shriek, fully realizing what was going on. Courtney flailed her arms, painfully slamming her side against the wall of the carriage as she hastily scrambled out.
No! This wasn’t supposed to happen! No! No! No!
What had she done? Oh— oh— oh, God! What a mess she was… this all was. She was supposed to fix it… fix it. Yet it was worse— so, so much worse…
“Courtney!”
She had a firm grip on the brass knob, ready to pull open the door and flee, when her other hand was caught.
“No, don’t, I—”
But she yanked her arm away and ripped open the door to race out back into the cold. If only she could escape, escape it all. If she could only get away—
“Wait,”
She felt another gust of wind slam against her entire body, numbing it. But it did nothing to soften the feeling.
And her eyes, confused and upset, met Duncan’s. He stepped forward, clinging to the door, which was threatening to close, and looked at her firmly. There was strong, determined look that crossed his features.
“What I told you… I meant it. I mean it. I’ll take you away from all of this.”
Courtney’s eyes began to water from the wind. She felt her heart rise in her throat, every single part of her crying out.
“I know.”
*******
Her shoulders stayed glued to the back of the chair, listening to the chatter that swarmed around her over the clinking of polished silverware and crystal glasses. And though she was smiling pleasantly, she felt anything but.
How could she have been in so deep without knowing it? How could he feel so intensely about her? How, oh how could such a problem arise for her? She’d worked every moment being the best she could, being proper, being what she was supposed to be— only to have her world ripped apart by the one thing she should’ve known to avoid.
“Miss Hughes? Miss Hughes— are you quite alright?”
Feeling a soft tap on her shoulder, Courtney reconnected to the scene and looked to her right. Her eyes caught Charles Herrington’s, and she met the curious, almost worried gaze with a reassuring smile.
“Oh, yes, I’m fine. Thank you for your concern, Mr. Herrington.” She managed, though she did not feel fine at all. Her mind was too crowded with fret and the chastising of her wrong-doings. “I’m just a bit tired, that is all. The cooler weather has disrupted my sleeping pattern, I’m afraid.” The lie slipped easily, as such was her nature. Though she tried not to think of it as fibbing— it was merely her attempt at easing the worrying of her peers. Or at least, it sounded better that way. She certainly did not keep her secrets for the sole benefits of one Charles Herrington. Though, as her mother would cleverly point out, such a handsome face didn’t deserve to be lined with pity.
This didn’t pass by Charles as well as Courtney would have hoped. He smiled, somewhat secretively, and leaned a bit closer. “If you’re bored with all of this petty small talk, I certainly don’t blame you.” And then he rested his hand on her forearm, rather lightly— though she still registered the gesture acutely. “I can tell that you’re troubled by something more exciting than the quality of china and the ever-changing styles of petticoats these days. Tell me, what is running around that pretty head of yours?”
And though she knew what he was trying to do, the better part of her told her to blush as though she was flattered by the comment. “Why,” she began coyly, looking down as though her heart was fluttering, which it wasn’t. “You shouldn’t be too bold with me, Mr. Herrington. It would be most unseemly.”
Out of the corner of her downcast eyes, Courtney caught a glimpse of her mother, who was watching her intently. The piercing gaze, not the slightest bit softened by distance, made her skin a degree warmer.
“Unseemly?” He mused, straightening back into his chair. “Quite so, I’d think. Though I must give you the credit you deserve, Miss Hughes. There is a certain virtue about you, something I have no idea how you retain, considering,” here he paused, letting his eyes follow the contours of her face. His lips broke into another smile. “Well, considering you.”
Letting another blush spread over her cheeks, Courtney let her lips part slightly, as though she was scandalized by his words. “Oh, you shouldn’t be saying such things.”
But really, she wished he wasn’t. Flirting was fine, of course, it was expected to uphold a reputation of any sort— but that wasn’t it.
Because though Charles’ smile was charming and his words sounded like something that would send waves through any of the silly girls sitting at the table, she knew that it was a game. She was being played, like she had played so many others, like she had been played so many times. It was all one awful game. Sick and twisted, a game she knew, a game to which she was intensely accustomed.
No, it wasn’t a game— it was merely her life.
How prestigious it had seemed not an hour ago, when things weren’t quite as complicated, to how disgusting it seemed now. Compared to the rough reality and honesty of, well, Duncan and all she had to do with him, her social life seemed a lie.
Oh, well, of courseit was all deceit, she’d always known that. But up until that point, it had been a lie she could live with. Until then— it’d been just fine. Yet getting a taste —both literally and not, she noted regrettably— of something intoxicatingly real had changed her perspective. But still, in the end, Courtney found that what she wanted was as unclear as ever.
I can take you away from this…
But it was her life, it was everything she knew. And not to mention, what would they do? Where would they go? How could they—
No, no. There was no point in working out the fundamentals. There was no point in dwelling on the proposition, either. She shouldn’t give the idea a second thought. It was silly, and with the next moment Courtney had to spare, she would tell Duncan so. And then, she would fire him. End it all.
Her stomach lurched at the thought.
Well, she would put an end to it without firing him. Going to that extent wasn’t necessary, of course. Right.
Would you be with me always, Miss Hughes? I can show you…
“Oh,” a sigh of longing fell from Courtney’s lips, and for a moment, she wanted nothing more than to be a different girl. Another girl, one that didn’t have to live with relentless expectations. One that didn’t have to ignore her feelings for the honor of her family, didn’t have to bow her head obediently. A girl that could follow her heart, decide her own future.
Wait, what was she saying? These weren’t her thoughts, they couldn’t possibly have been. How could she want anything other than what she had? There were a dozen maids attending to her, a closet full of custom gowns, more than a handful of suitors, and, most importantly, an unblemished reputation. Courtney was well-respected and well-liked, so why was she unhappy? Anything and everything was beneath her fingertips, so what was there to complain about? She lived a life that any other girl, even her peers, would kill for. So why was she so… unsatisfied?
Courtney heard a voice in her ear.
“Miss Hughes… you haven’t answered my question.”
“Hmm?” She responded faintly, having drifted in her own thoughts and missed whatever Charles had been saying. Not that, as Courtney realized dimly, she really cared anymore.
His hand was resting on her forearm still, but the grip was a slight bit tighter. “Would you honor me with a dance this evening, if your card bears an empty space still?”
For a moment, her mind wandered again. Would Duncan make a good dancer, she wondered?
A smile spiked the corners of her lips.
No, she supposed not.
“That settles it, then.” Charles said with a wide grin, misinterpreting her little smirk, “we’ll dance a waltz, then? Though, I cannot say that my talent will quite match yours.”
Duncan wouldn’t know the steps, for certain. Nor where his hand would rest on her back, either. Perhaps he’d hold her far closer than he should; perhaps he’d look into her eyes far too intensely. Perhaps he wouldn’t understand how scandalous it would be if he kissed her as they swayed…
The small smile had broadened.
“Oh, well, all the better…”
*******
Goddamn liar.
Charles had a natural rhythm and posture that rivaled any man in the room. He led Courtney, light as a feather, across the marble with ease and abnormal grace. She pointed this out to him.
“You must bring it out of me, Miss Hughes.” He told her proudly.
The obvious lie made her want to vomit with distaste, but she managed to hold it in. Instead, she let her head bow slightly with modesty.
“Mr. Herrington…”
Courtney decided she might as well let the comment slip by as though she was too dense to realize what he’d planned to do. Of course, he’d thought to ask her to dance, saying he was talentless, only to claim that she had ‘brought it out of him’. Yes, because she wasn’t intelligent enough to figure that out.
But as she had been told by her mother, a man never wants to feel inferior to his wife. Men always want to consider themselves as the wittier sex. She also, rather faintly, recalled the ironic undertone of Mrs. Hughes words.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Mr. Herrington?”
“Please, call me Charles.”
“Charles,” she started again, treating the word as though it were forbidden fruit. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
At this, he looked at her, as though there were more to what he was saying. “Yes, I must say, I am.” Pulling back slightly, he inspected her softly. “Have I mentioned how radiant you are this evening?”
She had been doing her best to stay intact with their conversation, but she kept wandering off with thought. One moment, she would see Duncan in Charles’ place, smiling down at her brashly. The next, he would be winking at her from across the floor. And then he would be pulling her out of the ballroom, down the hall, to do things they shouldn’t…
A laugh from her partner was all it took for her to return to earth and realize what she had subconsciously been daydreaming about. Her face would flush red, and she’d force a laugh, averting her eyes as though they could be read.
The music stopped, and Courtney let her arms rest by her sides. Giving a little curtsey, she smiled and thanked Charles for the dance, before gliding off the floor in a quick clip. Mrs. Hughes was by her in a moment.
“You’d best not walk so fast. We wouldn’t want someone to be injured as a result of your recklessness.”
Pressing her lips together, Courtney dropped her gaze to the floor and nodded once. “Yes. Of course.”
Though her mother wasn’t awfully disappointed with her, she noticed. There was a certain calmness about her, and Courtney could not help but inwardly cringe at what her mother must have been thinking.
“Mr. Herrington certainly is charming.” She mused, but not without purpose. “Did he seem to take a liking to you?”
“Yes, I suppose so. He did say I looked radiant.”
“Oh?” Mrs. Hughes raised an eyebrow at this, before letting her eyes settled back on the crowd of dancers, who were beginning a polka. “Was that all?”
It was here that Courtney hesitated. If her mother knew how much Charles had enjoyed her company— well, it would certainly mean something. She was seventeen, and courtship wasn’t a far thought at all. “No… he said I was very… virtuous.”
Grace Hughes speculated her daughter, as if to decide what to do with her. And just them, Courtney couldn’t have felt smaller. She felt like a pawn, no longer in control of what she wanted. All she was required to he was bow her head and oblige.
“Good,” her mother said slowly, not meeting her daughter’s eyes. There was a scheming look to her just then, something Courtney had never thought twice about before. But now, it made her stomach twist into a knot.
“Very good.”
*******
The sheets were dark under her fingertips as Courtney sat upright in her bed.
She knew she would have to be quick to leave before her nerves ran out.
Slipping her arms in the sleeves of her robe, she slid out of her room and hurried down the stairs, guiding herself by touch. Duncan had told her once that he was always waiting for her if she ever wanted to slip away for a night. She had always brushed the invitation off, but now she felt herself clinging to in. And rightly so, as he was sleeping on the bottom step.
A nagging voice told her that neither of them should have been there, but she pushed it out of her mind and crouched beside him.
“Duncan?” She whispered, and he started. His eyes opened, as Courtney could tell in the faint light from the tall window across the great room. He smiled in a dreamlike state, and reached to hold her hand.
“I knew you would come,” he told her mistily, kissing her palm.
And though she wanted to fit into his side and close her eyes, forgetting everything and living in that sole moment, Courtney knew it would erase nothing.
“You know we can’t do this,” she perched on the step right above his. “We can’t, Duncan. It isn’t right.”
“Who’s to say? Do you really want to abide by their rules, when they so clearly make you unhappy? You’re better than them, Courtney. You deserve better.” He pulled her so she tumbled softly onto his lap, caressing her fingers with his own. “The power lies with you, not with your mother.”
There was nothing she wanted to do more than say yes. Yes, she would go with him. Yes, she would leave it all behind for what he promised her. But this was not rational, she knew, and it was ridiculous. It was wrong to be sitting here with him, never mind abandoning her family for Duncan. “I can’t do that. You know I can’t.”
“Well, why not? What’s left for you here?”
She stood up and glared at him, the corners of her lips turning south. “My family, Duncan. I can’t leave my mother. And anyway… this is my life. Why should I just forget it all for you? I’m not sure I like you very much, anyway. You’ve been nothing but rude to me since the moment we met.”
He chuckled and gave a gentle tug on her hand so she fell onto him again. “No, I haven’t. I’ve merely been myself, and I daresay you like that. You don’t experience much honesty in high society, do you?”
Courtney frowned slightly. “Well, no. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing, now is it? If you’re sparing someone’s feelings… lies are rather useful, aren’t they?” She looked at Duncan, who smiled.
“See, now you’re lying. And it’s not to spare my feelings, either. I know you. You hate it, don’t you? I’m sure you’re constantly just itching to tell Betty Johnson what a stupid whore she is, aren’t you?”
Gasping, Courtney gave Duncan a smack on his arm, causing him to laugh again. “Of course not! I would never think such a thing!”
His eyes glinted, and he stroked the back of her hand. “Oh, yes, you would.”
She sighed irritably, and turned her face away from his. “Fine. Yes, she is. Betty’s a slut, and a dense one at that. But you really can’t blame me for thinking so. Old Mr. Lowe had his hand right up her skirts, and she didn’t even have to brains to figure that anyone else could have noticed! She’s insufferable.” Catching herself, Courtney paused, before taking back her hand and crossing her arms. “Are you happy now?”
“Almost,” Duncan grinned, a suggestion that she chose to ignore as a thought came to mind.
“You didn’t answer my question, you know,” she told him, lips pressing together as she thought.
He looked at her curiously. “Oh? And what question would that be?”
“The one as to why I should forget it all for you.”
Taking a moment to contemplate this, Duncan let his eyes wander the expanse of the shadowed hall. “Because there’s nothing to forget.”
A dark eyebrow was raised.
“I’m the one that cares about you, Courtney. You know that.” He leaned closer, resting a hand on her knee. “You’re your mother’s pawn, nothing else. You’re just a playing piece to her, she doesn’t truly care.”
The words, being so unnaturally true, hit Courtney painfully in her stomach. She stood abruptly.
“I’d thank you not to speak about my mother in such a way. I’ll have you know that my mother certainly does care for my well-being. She’s just strict because she cares.”
Feet bare, she began to mount the stairs, Duncan’s words pleading behind her.
“Wait, I didn’t mean to say it like that—”
But Courtney didn’t want to listen. He was right, she knew it. And that only made it so much harder to accept.
“Yes, you did.” She told him sharply, hurrying now. Was it that obvious? Had even Duncan noticed the lack of love her mother held for her?
“Courtney!”
Meeting the top step, she finally turned around and gave a glare. “Just go away!”
“What’s going on here?”
Courtney’s heart leapt in her chest at the sound of a voice.
And though she wished it wasn’t true, the fact that her mother was standing there, hair pulled back cleanly and eyes narrowed spitefully, was quite apparent.
“Duncan,” she addressed as her gaze, sharp as ever, landed on him. “What are you doing in the house?”
A selfish wave of relief came over Courtney as she realized that she hadn’t been caught. Only Duncan had, as his rightful place was in the servants’ quarters. Mrs. Hughes must have assumed that Courtney had been ordering Duncan away, which had almost been the case.
“I…”
A scowl overcame Grace Hughes’ features as she overlooked his disorderly manner and the dirt on his clothes and well-worn shoes. “Well?”
“I suppose I don’t know,” he answered, features hardening. Courtney could tell it was hard for him to keep from lashing out under the scrutiny.
“You don’t know?” She looked at him distastefully, before dismissing him with a wave of her hand. “You can pack up your things. I believe we are no longer in need of your service anymore.”
Gravity took effect as Courtney’s heart dropped through to her feet.
Fired?
“But mother,” she started, clutching the fabric of her robe. “Duncan has been with us for almost a year, and… we need him.”
“I appreciate your concern for the help, but he can be replaced. Now go to bed. Goodness knows the state you’ll be in tomorrow in you don’t get your rest.”
“Mother.” She tried again, the strain in her voice obvious. “Please.”
A skeptical look overcame her mother as she read her daughter’s face. “Go. This isn’t something to be debated.”
“You can’t!” Courtney burst suddenly, a desperation she had never known overcoming her. The thought of Duncan leaving… she couldn’t begin to bear it.
Mrs. Hughes’ eyes flashed at the disobedience. “Do not speak to me in such a way. You’ll do as you’re told, before you wake up the entire neighborhood.”
Flicking a glance at Duncan, who stood helplessly at the bottom step, Courtney summoned the courage to let the words fall from her lips. It felt as though her entire being followed them
“But… I love him, mother.”
A sudden slap across her cheek caused Courtney to stumble back with a gasp. In her mother’s eyes was a kind of fury she had never seen before.
“I never want to hear you say that again.” She said, voice quivering, but firm.
Duncan was at Courtney’s side at once, holding her protectively. It didn’t stop her eyes from watering from the sharp sting.
“No.”
Oh… what was happening? What was she saying? These couldn’t have been her words, not her thoughts. She was a good girl, her mother’s obedient girl… this wasn’t happening. No… yet the reality kept pricking at her, the honesty so strong. It was too surreal… but it was happening. The entire foundation for her life was being ripped out from under her… and she was the one pulling. This was her doing…
“I’m not staying. You can tell them anything you want, I don’t care anymore. I’ll be leaving, and I don’t think I’ll come back.”
She turned, shaking violently, and entered her room to pack her things. This was it. She was done. She would leave.
“You’re my daughter!”
Courtney’s vision was so clouded with anger, at her mother, at herself— she could barely see the suitcase as she pulled it out of her closet and dropped it on her bed. Duncan began to pull out dresses —the plainer, simpler ones— and packing them into the bag recklessly. It didn’t matter if they wrinkled. Nothing really did.
She heard a door slam, and knew her mother had given up. Given up on her. The sound itself was enough to increase the flow of unsteadiness.
Grabbing the suitcase, Courtney hurried out of her room and down the stairs. She told Duncan to hitch up a carriage as she headed to the kitchen. She glanced through the pantry, gathering an armful of things to last them for the night. Oh… what ever was she doing? In a matter of seconds, she’d thrown the only life she knew away. She was going to run, with no idea what was in store for her. She would decide her own future.
Feeling her legs give out, Courtney collapsed into a heap on the floor, tears beginning to stream over her cheeks.
*******
“She knew.”
Duncan pursed his lips, and sighed after a moment’s silence. “Yeah, she knew. Said it was the way I looked at you. Though I suppose she figured it was harmless.”
Courtney nodded slowly and pressed herself closer into his side as the carriage pulled onward. She placed a hand in the crook of his arm and let her eyes rest on the wet gravel road beneath them. “We have so little money and no plans… how are we ever going to do this?”
The carriage slowed to a stop, and Duncan let go of the reins to look ahead of them. “Do you notice the rising sun in the distance?”
“Yes, I see it.”
He smiled. “Do you know what it means for us?”
“Better light for travelling?” Courtney guessed with a raised eyebrow and an eye-roll. Where was he going with this?
“That too,” he smirked, and continued. “But it means a new day, another day that I’m with you. And it doesn’t matter where, but as long as we’re together… I don’t think I need anything else.”
Now she smiled, too, and placed her hands on either side of Duncan’s face, drawing it nearer. “You should be sweet more often.”
Duncan frowned playfully and tried to pull away. “I don’t think you’d like me as much if I was.
But Courtney held him still, and pressed their foreheads together. “No, I suppose I wouldn’t.”
She kissed him sweetly, shortly, and straightened as Duncan grabbed the reins. The carriage pulled on, and Courtney began to ponder what he had said.
As long as we’re together… I don’t think I need anything else.
And she watched the sun as it climbed higher in the sky, knowing that he was right. It would be a new day, and with the light, there was a new world of possibilities. There was nothing to hold her back.
Letting her head rest gently on Duncan’s shoulder, she closed her eyes, snow falling softly on her shoulders and in her hair.
She would make it work. She would learn to adapt. And she would love it.
It wasn’t a happily-ever-after ending like so many strived for. It was messy and bittersweet, she knew. But this was the very reason Courtney couldn’t have wanted it any other way. Because this, this was beyond anything one could dream up. It was so much better.
It was real.
*******
By TellMeSomethinIDontKnow on Fanfiction.net
Though, to be fair, it was more than an unidentifiable pull that caused her half-lidded eyes to drown in lust and confusion. His breath warming her lips, so temptingly, certainly was to blame. His hand, as it curled around hers possessively, must have contributed to the fluttering of her heart. And the look, evidently similar to her own, that his eyes absorbed so plainly, so openly, had to have been a factor. It made well enough sense, anyway.
But when their lips actually connected, when they finally, finally met, the burning feeling that dwelled in the pit of her stomach inflamed.
The book that had been resting in the crook of her elbow clattered against the rough surface of the stone patio, the sound stifled by snow.
Her other hand entwined with his, cheeks reddening with heat. The pressure was becoming immense, the passion building. She felt as though she could have exploded from the pleasure.
Courtney closed her eyes fully, and drank in the sensation.
*******
The morning after.
An odd thought, since the epilogue is never a focal point.
It’s the one moment of magnificence that attracts an audience. The single moment where everything is right, everything is perfect. Beyond that, no one cares. No one wants to see how the Princess lived after her fairy-tale wedding. No one wants to hear about the marital problems, the stresses, the aggravation. What they want, what everyone wants, is a clean, pleasant little ‘happily-ever-after’. Because when you hear that suddenly, everything isn’t quite right, that everything isn’t quite so happy and perfect, you cast doubt on your own happy ending. If Cinderella can’t make it, then who can? Surely, there’s no hope for anyone else. The whole concept of love is futile, if it will only end in ruins.
Courtney stroked her cheek thoughtfully, holding onto the gaze of her reflection.
There had been something real, no doubt. What she had felt was certainly more than just the effect of reckless teenage ambition for lust. It’d been true, it’d been honest. Not that it changed who she was.
Higher, better. Worth so much more.
They weren’t her thoughts alone, though, they were those of the society. They were the rules. And she had no choice but to abide by them.
Because it was a jail cell, she knew. No matter how lavish and rich its furnishings were, how warm and tempting, elegant and extravagant it might be, she still lived within a cell. There were still barred walls that closed in around her, tightening until she had suffered under her peer’s scrutiny to the fullest extent.
And though the flurry of dresses and tailcoats were pretty in another’s perspective, the reality was truly quite ugly.
Judgment had its own seat at the dinner table, as it narrowed its eyes on weaknesses, flaws that had gone unchecked. Mistakes that should never have been made were clear in its keen sight, nothing went unnoticed.
So it had been, so it was. And she loved it.
You would think living in a straightjacket would be horrible, unbearable. Indisputably, it was—unless, that is, you were good at it.
And such was Courtney’s life.
She was the one peering over opera glasses and curling her lips into slow, endearing little smiles. She was the one who kept an eye sharp, improvement the first and only thought on her mind. Her own success came before anything else, her own small rivalries filling tedious daily activities. The need to succeed, to be the best— it was always there. It was always a part of her, this scheming life that consumed her. Seventeen flawless, bright years it had been, until her perfect little world experienced a quake.
No doubt, it was sudden. No doubt, it was unsuspected. Yet so subtle, so sneaky, she couldn’t have seen the changes right away, couldn’t have detected them. And somehow, it managed to break her down.
He managed to break her down. That boy, that stupid, filthy boy.
It’d started out as nothing, his little quips and smirks as he snapped the reins of her carriage. She should’ve noticed his interest immediately, thinking back now, it’d been so obvious. His hand and the way it lingered slightly as he helped her down after a ride through the park, the way he drove a bit too quickly, as if to gain her annoyance— her attention. He seemed to have no consideration for the fact that it was far out of his place. He didn’t seem to care.
Though she noticed its escalation, no doubt. What had once been inappropriate, loitering gazes and knowing half-smiles, as though he could read her like a newspaper, rose to bolder advances. Letting her slip on the carriage step, only to catch her by the waist, something one would consider an innocent act of kindness. Courtney knew better. Whispers of desire that no one but she caught, promises of lips and hands and heat. Duncan’s fingers brushing by the soft fabric of her dress, as if to tempt her. There were quiet little ideas that he could suggest without a word, but conveyed with lust that lingered in the depth of his eyes.
As it was her duty as an honorable lady, Courtney managed to look past these flirtations. She wouldn’t dare stoop to his level, she wouldn’t dream of it. She had no business with the likes of him, none at all.
Yet…
His eyes were such a passionate blue, they held hers with such intent. And his arms were strong with experience, not due to of use of an engraved gold fountain pen like all of the indulged, primped boys she danced with, but as a result of true, hard labor. He’d seem the world, he’d served it. He was part of it. While Courtney, in contrast, had barely experienced a taste. And though she hated it, despised it, tried to rid herself of it, there was a part of her that wanted nothing more than to understand him. Part of her held this undeniable need, this thirst to discover him, to be with him.
And that was exactly what she got.
She’d been reading in the garden, soaking in what warmth the winter sun still had to offer as it hung low in the hazy pink sky, a lit candle perched at her side, when she heard the crunching of slush and ice from before her. She’d raised her eyes, met his, noticed the cold flush in the apples of his cheek, the red of his lips from the wind, his clenched, determined fists. She’d taken in the hunger that consumed his well-sculpted features, knowing he wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t wait— …and…
Courtney felt herself waver slightly at the memory. The brightness of his eyes… the obvious strength of his jaw… and the kiss—
A quick shake of her head pushed the recollection of her thoughts. Why was she reminiscing? She regretted her actions, didn’t she? Of course, if anyone were to find out, it would be the end of her. No inheritance, no future. No life.
Not to mention what people would think, what they’d say. She could hear the gossip already. Kissing her driver… disgraceful… I always thought she was such a nice girl, well brought up… just goes to show…
But tonight she would put it all behind her, and move on. No more. It ended here.
“Your mother calls for you,”
Blinking out of the midst of thought, Courtney bowed her head, signaling the maid to leave. She glanced into her mirror, looking over the extravagance of her up-do and the glamour of the pearls at her neck. Her eyes travelled down the pastel pink silk of her full dress, with its carefully detailed elegance, and down to the curved point of her slippers. Pulling the top of the ivory gloves that hid her forearms so they were clean and straight, she rose to her feet and left the comfort of her room, pressing a smile to her lips. She met her mother at the top of the grand staircase, clasped her fingers against the skirt of her dress, and held her breath.
Dark eyes ran up the length of her body with scrutiny, and Courtney rolled her shoulders back instinctively. Her mother pursed her lips, and moved to fix a strand of tousled hair out of her daughter’s eyes. Satisfied, the woman turned away.
“Lovely,” she said coolly, a sign of her approval. Placing a slender hand on the banister, she relaxed her shoulders and settled into a state of true, honest grace. Following the lead of her mother, Courtney moved in time, descending down the glossy staircase, one small step at a time. The marble clicked beneath the heels of her shoes.
The Great Hall was littered with the finest aristocrats London had to offer. It was mesmerizing, the way the collection of socialites seemed to glisten under the warm light of the crystal chandelier that hung impressively from the high ceiling of the room. Courtney’s eyes grazed the intricate detailing of the wallpaper, sliding over one clever painting to the next. Ornate sculptures and freshly-cut flowers filled the room with extravagance, with warm hues of gold and red and royal blue that proposed a firm sense of self-importance. Every corner was lavishly furnished, every nook exaggerated with luxuries one couldn’t help but admire wholeheartedly. At any rate, her family found no limit in proudly boasting their wealth. No one did.
“Miss Hughes—there you are. Now, let me have a look at you.”
Courtney felt her hands being embraced by those of a middle-aged, stout woman with hair that was obviously beginning to gray. The woman must have been of some relation to her, a distant cousin of sorts, so at the bottom step she smiled charmingly and straightened her back.
“My, what an exquisite, acceptable lady you’ve become. I remember you as a child, so well-mannered, so polite…” The lady smiled, the red of her lips stretching into her full cheeks. After an acutely timed moment, she let go of Courtney’s fingers and turned her round face to her mother. “And Grace, dear.” She directed the warm smile to Mrs. Hughes, who stood with one hand clasped on her daughter’s shoulder.
“Amelia, it has been too long,” she purred, the words coated sweetly. But Courtney picked up on the undertone, the hidden meaning. Her mother’s friend, however, did not notice the subtleties.
“You must come for tea one day soon. I’ve missed your company, Grace. Truly I have.”
And Mrs. Hughes nodded with a smile, falsely promising her attendance. Of course, of course she would come for tea. She would love to. There was nothing she would rather do than spend the day with her —overeager, wearisome, pathetically hopeless, glutinous excuse for a— dear old friend. It would be sheer delight.
Feeling a nudge from her mother’s hand after several minutes of conversing, Courtney knew it was time for her to leave. She batted her eyelashes sweetly and stepped to the side. “It has been wonderful seeing you once more, Misses Thorne— I wish I could stay to speak with you for longer, but there are so many guests to be greeted, as you know.” With an approving nod from her mother’s friend, Courtney slid from the chatter of the two women and mixed into the throng of people.
Snippets of gossip reached her ears. Nasty, horrid things that shouldn’t have been muttered above a whisper, things that should have been kept hush-hush. But London did not know secrets. It knew things that caused knowing smirks, giggles that rose above the den. It knew of small impurities, little shameful incidents that, in time, would wither away. But Courtney knew her secret was desired, that it was wanted. Such a secret could ruin her, if it was ever found out.
But no— no. No one would ever know. It couldn’t, would not happen. Courtney had just to keep quiet, she had to keep it locked up. Besides, the only other person who knew was—
A feeling of nausea passed through her. Oh, God. Oh, oh, oh no. He could… would… and he… oh, damn…
There was no way, no force on earth that would make her let him breath a word of it. She would stop any of his intentions in their tracks. If anyone found out— she didn’t even want to think about it. No, it wouldn’t happen. She wouldn’t allow it.
Courtney relaxed her tense shoulders, and exhaled slowly. With a dainty —though forced— smile, she weaved through the crowd, slipping into the back hallway. She hurried, escaping through the kitchen and out into the back garden. It was unoccupied, though, and for a moment Courtney wondered exactly what she’d been thinking. A consequence of her impulsiveness came in the form of a gust of cool wind that slapped the side of her face suddenly, extracting a loud yelp of discomfort.
“Careful, it’s rather windy.”
Her ears pricked the voice from behind. Had she been followed?
Feeling her cheeks warm with embarrassment, Courtney turned to the sound. She was about to apologize, when she caught sight of the voice’s owner.
“You—”
Standing there, with a smug little grin and glinting blue eyes, Courtney could not help but loathe him. Her anger rose, and for the first time so far that night, she couldn’t have cared less about how she looked.
Her lips were already parted and ready to scold him, to tell him off, when Duncan turned his shoulder and started towards the house.
“Excuse me! I’d like a word with you! Don’t turn your back on—”
A clever look met her. “Yes, well, if you’re going to yell at me, I’d rather you do it in indoors. But by all means, stay out in the cold.”
Courtney’s mouth hung open for a moment, before she closed it and picked up her skirts to head for the door. She gave him a look of fiery dislike, and stepped into the garage where they kept their summer carriages. It was empty, save the coaches, of course, and so Courtney didn’t hesitate to raise her voice.
“Last night never happened. It never occurred. And I’d like it very much if it was forgotten. What you did was unacceptable, and you should know that your job is hanging by a thread.”
She waited for him to quiver, to admit defeat— something. But he smiled at her, a true smile, and sauntered over to a stagecoach to pull open the door and climb inside. Growling, Courtney crossed her arms and stomped over to his side. “You shouldn’t be in there,” she told him, despising the way he lazily spread himself across the red velvet.
Giving her a challenging look, he shifted slightly, and nodded to the empty space beside him, a space just large enough for her. “Come, sit.”
Cheeks now burning at the request, both from anger and the inappropriate pass, she shook her head and gripped the slim door handle, leaning closer. “No. Now, come out and—”
Duncan slid over even more, and offered the spot again. “Sit. We’ll talk.”
The desire to rip the calm expression out of him was strong. “You are insufferable.” She spat, unwillingly climbing into the vehicle as well. It was a feat to get the bustle of her skirts through the small door, but she finally managed to clamber in. She collapsed beside him, gloves now wrinkled and messy from the effort, and gripped onto her pride. “Now, I don’t believe I was in the correct mindset last night, and you were wrong to have—”
But she was cut off as Duncan’s hand slid up to hold the side of her jaw tenderly. Her brow furrowed at the touch.
Though, it was a rather nice touch…
“Duncan, stop—”
He didn’t let go. His thumb slid roughly across her lower lip, and his eyes attached to hers.
It sent a rush down her spine.
And the sincerity in his eyes was gripping at her, something she couldn’t ignore. Honesty was rare for her, and seeing it so plainly before her—
Oh, this was wrong…
“Why do you do it?” He asked, with little concern for her virtue.
“What?” She mumbled, eyes blinking fearfully. What was he doing to her? Her mind was screaming, thrashing and yelling to tear away. But she couldn’t. She was captivated. By his touch, by his voice, by the scent of him that was surely lingering on her now. She was starting feeling lost once more.
He moved towards her, letting their noses brush. “Why do you let them have you? Why do you give them what they want?”
His lips travelled to the spot below her ear. The feeling ran through Courtney, and she breathed in sharply. Her skin tingled. His breath wrapped her in a sudden warmth as he spoke. “You’re different, I know it. You want things your own way… you don’t need to follow their rules, Courtney…”
So… so wrong…
She gave a helpless little gasp, lids heavy. The way her name sounded from his lips, right in her ear, slow and thoughtful… as though only he knew how to say it…
Goosebumps pricked along her arms.
His fingers ran along the side of her face tenderly. “You could get away. You could leave all of this, you know.”
Duncan’s lips travelled across her cheek, finally meeting hers. His eyes were open only a sliver, still watching her, as he pressed his lips down with slight force. It made Courtney’s racing heart accelerate.
Wrong, so unbelievably wrong…
“I can give it to you… I can take you away from this… I can show you what it’s like… I can teach you…” He whispered, promises between kisses, feeding the temptation. “Would you live like that? Would you be with me always, Miss Hughes? I can show you…”
Yes… she wanted to be with him… she couldn’t begin to imagine not kissing him, not being overwhelmed. Not being able to enjoy the feel of his lips on hers, his breath on her skin…
…his hand, as it slid up higher and higher on her waist—
“Oh!” She exclaimed in a shriek, fully realizing what was going on. Courtney flailed her arms, painfully slamming her side against the wall of the carriage as she hastily scrambled out.
No! This wasn’t supposed to happen! No! No! No!
What had she done? Oh— oh— oh, God! What a mess she was… this all was. She was supposed to fix it… fix it. Yet it was worse— so, so much worse…
“Courtney!”
She had a firm grip on the brass knob, ready to pull open the door and flee, when her other hand was caught.
“No, don’t, I—”
But she yanked her arm away and ripped open the door to race out back into the cold. If only she could escape, escape it all. If she could only get away—
“Wait,”
She felt another gust of wind slam against her entire body, numbing it. But it did nothing to soften the feeling.
And her eyes, confused and upset, met Duncan’s. He stepped forward, clinging to the door, which was threatening to close, and looked at her firmly. There was strong, determined look that crossed his features.
“What I told you… I meant it. I mean it. I’ll take you away from all of this.”
Courtney’s eyes began to water from the wind. She felt her heart rise in her throat, every single part of her crying out.
“I know.”
*******
Her shoulders stayed glued to the back of the chair, listening to the chatter that swarmed around her over the clinking of polished silverware and crystal glasses. And though she was smiling pleasantly, she felt anything but.
How could she have been in so deep without knowing it? How could he feel so intensely about her? How, oh how could such a problem arise for her? She’d worked every moment being the best she could, being proper, being what she was supposed to be— only to have her world ripped apart by the one thing she should’ve known to avoid.
“Miss Hughes? Miss Hughes— are you quite alright?”
Feeling a soft tap on her shoulder, Courtney reconnected to the scene and looked to her right. Her eyes caught Charles Herrington’s, and she met the curious, almost worried gaze with a reassuring smile.
“Oh, yes, I’m fine. Thank you for your concern, Mr. Herrington.” She managed, though she did not feel fine at all. Her mind was too crowded with fret and the chastising of her wrong-doings. “I’m just a bit tired, that is all. The cooler weather has disrupted my sleeping pattern, I’m afraid.” The lie slipped easily, as such was her nature. Though she tried not to think of it as fibbing— it was merely her attempt at easing the worrying of her peers. Or at least, it sounded better that way. She certainly did not keep her secrets for the sole benefits of one Charles Herrington. Though, as her mother would cleverly point out, such a handsome face didn’t deserve to be lined with pity.
This didn’t pass by Charles as well as Courtney would have hoped. He smiled, somewhat secretively, and leaned a bit closer. “If you’re bored with all of this petty small talk, I certainly don’t blame you.” And then he rested his hand on her forearm, rather lightly— though she still registered the gesture acutely. “I can tell that you’re troubled by something more exciting than the quality of china and the ever-changing styles of petticoats these days. Tell me, what is running around that pretty head of yours?”
And though she knew what he was trying to do, the better part of her told her to blush as though she was flattered by the comment. “Why,” she began coyly, looking down as though her heart was fluttering, which it wasn’t. “You shouldn’t be too bold with me, Mr. Herrington. It would be most unseemly.”
Out of the corner of her downcast eyes, Courtney caught a glimpse of her mother, who was watching her intently. The piercing gaze, not the slightest bit softened by distance, made her skin a degree warmer.
“Unseemly?” He mused, straightening back into his chair. “Quite so, I’d think. Though I must give you the credit you deserve, Miss Hughes. There is a certain virtue about you, something I have no idea how you retain, considering,” here he paused, letting his eyes follow the contours of her face. His lips broke into another smile. “Well, considering you.”
Letting another blush spread over her cheeks, Courtney let her lips part slightly, as though she was scandalized by his words. “Oh, you shouldn’t be saying such things.”
But really, she wished he wasn’t. Flirting was fine, of course, it was expected to uphold a reputation of any sort— but that wasn’t it.
Because though Charles’ smile was charming and his words sounded like something that would send waves through any of the silly girls sitting at the table, she knew that it was a game. She was being played, like she had played so many others, like she had been played so many times. It was all one awful game. Sick and twisted, a game she knew, a game to which she was intensely accustomed.
No, it wasn’t a game— it was merely her life.
How prestigious it had seemed not an hour ago, when things weren’t quite as complicated, to how disgusting it seemed now. Compared to the rough reality and honesty of, well, Duncan and all she had to do with him, her social life seemed a lie.
Oh, well, of courseit was all deceit, she’d always known that. But up until that point, it had been a lie she could live with. Until then— it’d been just fine. Yet getting a taste —both literally and not, she noted regrettably— of something intoxicatingly real had changed her perspective. But still, in the end, Courtney found that what she wanted was as unclear as ever.
I can take you away from this…
But it was her life, it was everything she knew. And not to mention, what would they do? Where would they go? How could they—
No, no. There was no point in working out the fundamentals. There was no point in dwelling on the proposition, either. She shouldn’t give the idea a second thought. It was silly, and with the next moment Courtney had to spare, she would tell Duncan so. And then, she would fire him. End it all.
Her stomach lurched at the thought.
Well, she would put an end to it without firing him. Going to that extent wasn’t necessary, of course. Right.
Would you be with me always, Miss Hughes? I can show you…
“Oh,” a sigh of longing fell from Courtney’s lips, and for a moment, she wanted nothing more than to be a different girl. Another girl, one that didn’t have to live with relentless expectations. One that didn’t have to ignore her feelings for the honor of her family, didn’t have to bow her head obediently. A girl that could follow her heart, decide her own future.
Wait, what was she saying? These weren’t her thoughts, they couldn’t possibly have been. How could she want anything other than what she had? There were a dozen maids attending to her, a closet full of custom gowns, more than a handful of suitors, and, most importantly, an unblemished reputation. Courtney was well-respected and well-liked, so why was she unhappy? Anything and everything was beneath her fingertips, so what was there to complain about? She lived a life that any other girl, even her peers, would kill for. So why was she so… unsatisfied?
Courtney heard a voice in her ear.
“Miss Hughes… you haven’t answered my question.”
“Hmm?” She responded faintly, having drifted in her own thoughts and missed whatever Charles had been saying. Not that, as Courtney realized dimly, she really cared anymore.
His hand was resting on her forearm still, but the grip was a slight bit tighter. “Would you honor me with a dance this evening, if your card bears an empty space still?”
For a moment, her mind wandered again. Would Duncan make a good dancer, she wondered?
A smile spiked the corners of her lips.
No, she supposed not.
“That settles it, then.” Charles said with a wide grin, misinterpreting her little smirk, “we’ll dance a waltz, then? Though, I cannot say that my talent will quite match yours.”
Duncan wouldn’t know the steps, for certain. Nor where his hand would rest on her back, either. Perhaps he’d hold her far closer than he should; perhaps he’d look into her eyes far too intensely. Perhaps he wouldn’t understand how scandalous it would be if he kissed her as they swayed…
The small smile had broadened.
“Oh, well, all the better…”
*******
Goddamn liar.
Charles had a natural rhythm and posture that rivaled any man in the room. He led Courtney, light as a feather, across the marble with ease and abnormal grace. She pointed this out to him.
“You must bring it out of me, Miss Hughes.” He told her proudly.
The obvious lie made her want to vomit with distaste, but she managed to hold it in. Instead, she let her head bow slightly with modesty.
“Mr. Herrington…”
Courtney decided she might as well let the comment slip by as though she was too dense to realize what he’d planned to do. Of course, he’d thought to ask her to dance, saying he was talentless, only to claim that she had ‘brought it out of him’. Yes, because she wasn’t intelligent enough to figure that out.
But as she had been told by her mother, a man never wants to feel inferior to his wife. Men always want to consider themselves as the wittier sex. She also, rather faintly, recalled the ironic undertone of Mrs. Hughes words.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Mr. Herrington?”
“Please, call me Charles.”
“Charles,” she started again, treating the word as though it were forbidden fruit. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
At this, he looked at her, as though there were more to what he was saying. “Yes, I must say, I am.” Pulling back slightly, he inspected her softly. “Have I mentioned how radiant you are this evening?”
She had been doing her best to stay intact with their conversation, but she kept wandering off with thought. One moment, she would see Duncan in Charles’ place, smiling down at her brashly. The next, he would be winking at her from across the floor. And then he would be pulling her out of the ballroom, down the hall, to do things they shouldn’t…
A laugh from her partner was all it took for her to return to earth and realize what she had subconsciously been daydreaming about. Her face would flush red, and she’d force a laugh, averting her eyes as though they could be read.
The music stopped, and Courtney let her arms rest by her sides. Giving a little curtsey, she smiled and thanked Charles for the dance, before gliding off the floor in a quick clip. Mrs. Hughes was by her in a moment.
“You’d best not walk so fast. We wouldn’t want someone to be injured as a result of your recklessness.”
Pressing her lips together, Courtney dropped her gaze to the floor and nodded once. “Yes. Of course.”
Though her mother wasn’t awfully disappointed with her, she noticed. There was a certain calmness about her, and Courtney could not help but inwardly cringe at what her mother must have been thinking.
“Mr. Herrington certainly is charming.” She mused, but not without purpose. “Did he seem to take a liking to you?”
“Yes, I suppose so. He did say I looked radiant.”
“Oh?” Mrs. Hughes raised an eyebrow at this, before letting her eyes settled back on the crowd of dancers, who were beginning a polka. “Was that all?”
It was here that Courtney hesitated. If her mother knew how much Charles had enjoyed her company— well, it would certainly mean something. She was seventeen, and courtship wasn’t a far thought at all. “No… he said I was very… virtuous.”
Grace Hughes speculated her daughter, as if to decide what to do with her. And just them, Courtney couldn’t have felt smaller. She felt like a pawn, no longer in control of what she wanted. All she was required to he was bow her head and oblige.
“Good,” her mother said slowly, not meeting her daughter’s eyes. There was a scheming look to her just then, something Courtney had never thought twice about before. But now, it made her stomach twist into a knot.
“Very good.”
*******
The sheets were dark under her fingertips as Courtney sat upright in her bed.
She knew she would have to be quick to leave before her nerves ran out.
Slipping her arms in the sleeves of her robe, she slid out of her room and hurried down the stairs, guiding herself by touch. Duncan had told her once that he was always waiting for her if she ever wanted to slip away for a night. She had always brushed the invitation off, but now she felt herself clinging to in. And rightly so, as he was sleeping on the bottom step.
A nagging voice told her that neither of them should have been there, but she pushed it out of her mind and crouched beside him.
“Duncan?” She whispered, and he started. His eyes opened, as Courtney could tell in the faint light from the tall window across the great room. He smiled in a dreamlike state, and reached to hold her hand.
“I knew you would come,” he told her mistily, kissing her palm.
And though she wanted to fit into his side and close her eyes, forgetting everything and living in that sole moment, Courtney knew it would erase nothing.
“You know we can’t do this,” she perched on the step right above his. “We can’t, Duncan. It isn’t right.”
“Who’s to say? Do you really want to abide by their rules, when they so clearly make you unhappy? You’re better than them, Courtney. You deserve better.” He pulled her so she tumbled softly onto his lap, caressing her fingers with his own. “The power lies with you, not with your mother.”
There was nothing she wanted to do more than say yes. Yes, she would go with him. Yes, she would leave it all behind for what he promised her. But this was not rational, she knew, and it was ridiculous. It was wrong to be sitting here with him, never mind abandoning her family for Duncan. “I can’t do that. You know I can’t.”
“Well, why not? What’s left for you here?”
She stood up and glared at him, the corners of her lips turning south. “My family, Duncan. I can’t leave my mother. And anyway… this is my life. Why should I just forget it all for you? I’m not sure I like you very much, anyway. You’ve been nothing but rude to me since the moment we met.”
He chuckled and gave a gentle tug on her hand so she fell onto him again. “No, I haven’t. I’ve merely been myself, and I daresay you like that. You don’t experience much honesty in high society, do you?”
Courtney frowned slightly. “Well, no. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing, now is it? If you’re sparing someone’s feelings… lies are rather useful, aren’t they?” She looked at Duncan, who smiled.
“See, now you’re lying. And it’s not to spare my feelings, either. I know you. You hate it, don’t you? I’m sure you’re constantly just itching to tell Betty Johnson what a stupid whore she is, aren’t you?”
Gasping, Courtney gave Duncan a smack on his arm, causing him to laugh again. “Of course not! I would never think such a thing!”
His eyes glinted, and he stroked the back of her hand. “Oh, yes, you would.”
She sighed irritably, and turned her face away from his. “Fine. Yes, she is. Betty’s a slut, and a dense one at that. But you really can’t blame me for thinking so. Old Mr. Lowe had his hand right up her skirts, and she didn’t even have to brains to figure that anyone else could have noticed! She’s insufferable.” Catching herself, Courtney paused, before taking back her hand and crossing her arms. “Are you happy now?”
“Almost,” Duncan grinned, a suggestion that she chose to ignore as a thought came to mind.
“You didn’t answer my question, you know,” she told him, lips pressing together as she thought.
He looked at her curiously. “Oh? And what question would that be?”
“The one as to why I should forget it all for you.”
Taking a moment to contemplate this, Duncan let his eyes wander the expanse of the shadowed hall. “Because there’s nothing to forget.”
A dark eyebrow was raised.
“I’m the one that cares about you, Courtney. You know that.” He leaned closer, resting a hand on her knee. “You’re your mother’s pawn, nothing else. You’re just a playing piece to her, she doesn’t truly care.”
The words, being so unnaturally true, hit Courtney painfully in her stomach. She stood abruptly.
“I’d thank you not to speak about my mother in such a way. I’ll have you know that my mother certainly does care for my well-being. She’s just strict because she cares.”
Feet bare, she began to mount the stairs, Duncan’s words pleading behind her.
“Wait, I didn’t mean to say it like that—”
But Courtney didn’t want to listen. He was right, she knew it. And that only made it so much harder to accept.
“Yes, you did.” She told him sharply, hurrying now. Was it that obvious? Had even Duncan noticed the lack of love her mother held for her?
“Courtney!”
Meeting the top step, she finally turned around and gave a glare. “Just go away!”
“What’s going on here?”
Courtney’s heart leapt in her chest at the sound of a voice.
And though she wished it wasn’t true, the fact that her mother was standing there, hair pulled back cleanly and eyes narrowed spitefully, was quite apparent.
“Duncan,” she addressed as her gaze, sharp as ever, landed on him. “What are you doing in the house?”
A selfish wave of relief came over Courtney as she realized that she hadn’t been caught. Only Duncan had, as his rightful place was in the servants’ quarters. Mrs. Hughes must have assumed that Courtney had been ordering Duncan away, which had almost been the case.
“I…”
A scowl overcame Grace Hughes’ features as she overlooked his disorderly manner and the dirt on his clothes and well-worn shoes. “Well?”
“I suppose I don’t know,” he answered, features hardening. Courtney could tell it was hard for him to keep from lashing out under the scrutiny.
“You don’t know?” She looked at him distastefully, before dismissing him with a wave of her hand. “You can pack up your things. I believe we are no longer in need of your service anymore.”
Gravity took effect as Courtney’s heart dropped through to her feet.
Fired?
“But mother,” she started, clutching the fabric of her robe. “Duncan has been with us for almost a year, and… we need him.”
“I appreciate your concern for the help, but he can be replaced. Now go to bed. Goodness knows the state you’ll be in tomorrow in you don’t get your rest.”
“Mother.” She tried again, the strain in her voice obvious. “Please.”
A skeptical look overcame her mother as she read her daughter’s face. “Go. This isn’t something to be debated.”
“You can’t!” Courtney burst suddenly, a desperation she had never known overcoming her. The thought of Duncan leaving… she couldn’t begin to bear it.
Mrs. Hughes’ eyes flashed at the disobedience. “Do not speak to me in such a way. You’ll do as you’re told, before you wake up the entire neighborhood.”
Flicking a glance at Duncan, who stood helplessly at the bottom step, Courtney summoned the courage to let the words fall from her lips. It felt as though her entire being followed them
“But… I love him, mother.”
A sudden slap across her cheek caused Courtney to stumble back with a gasp. In her mother’s eyes was a kind of fury she had never seen before.
“I never want to hear you say that again.” She said, voice quivering, but firm.
Duncan was at Courtney’s side at once, holding her protectively. It didn’t stop her eyes from watering from the sharp sting.
“No.”
Oh… what was happening? What was she saying? These couldn’t have been her words, not her thoughts. She was a good girl, her mother’s obedient girl… this wasn’t happening. No… yet the reality kept pricking at her, the honesty so strong. It was too surreal… but it was happening. The entire foundation for her life was being ripped out from under her… and she was the one pulling. This was her doing…
“I’m not staying. You can tell them anything you want, I don’t care anymore. I’ll be leaving, and I don’t think I’ll come back.”
She turned, shaking violently, and entered her room to pack her things. This was it. She was done. She would leave.
“You’re my daughter!”
Courtney’s vision was so clouded with anger, at her mother, at herself— she could barely see the suitcase as she pulled it out of her closet and dropped it on her bed. Duncan began to pull out dresses —the plainer, simpler ones— and packing them into the bag recklessly. It didn’t matter if they wrinkled. Nothing really did.
She heard a door slam, and knew her mother had given up. Given up on her. The sound itself was enough to increase the flow of unsteadiness.
Grabbing the suitcase, Courtney hurried out of her room and down the stairs. She told Duncan to hitch up a carriage as she headed to the kitchen. She glanced through the pantry, gathering an armful of things to last them for the night. Oh… what ever was she doing? In a matter of seconds, she’d thrown the only life she knew away. She was going to run, with no idea what was in store for her. She would decide her own future.
Feeling her legs give out, Courtney collapsed into a heap on the floor, tears beginning to stream over her cheeks.
*******
“She knew.”
Duncan pursed his lips, and sighed after a moment’s silence. “Yeah, she knew. Said it was the way I looked at you. Though I suppose she figured it was harmless.”
Courtney nodded slowly and pressed herself closer into his side as the carriage pulled onward. She placed a hand in the crook of his arm and let her eyes rest on the wet gravel road beneath them. “We have so little money and no plans… how are we ever going to do this?”
The carriage slowed to a stop, and Duncan let go of the reins to look ahead of them. “Do you notice the rising sun in the distance?”
“Yes, I see it.”
He smiled. “Do you know what it means for us?”
“Better light for travelling?” Courtney guessed with a raised eyebrow and an eye-roll. Where was he going with this?
“That too,” he smirked, and continued. “But it means a new day, another day that I’m with you. And it doesn’t matter where, but as long as we’re together… I don’t think I need anything else.”
Now she smiled, too, and placed her hands on either side of Duncan’s face, drawing it nearer. “You should be sweet more often.”
Duncan frowned playfully and tried to pull away. “I don’t think you’d like me as much if I was.
But Courtney held him still, and pressed their foreheads together. “No, I suppose I wouldn’t.”
She kissed him sweetly, shortly, and straightened as Duncan grabbed the reins. The carriage pulled on, and Courtney began to ponder what he had said.
As long as we’re together… I don’t think I need anything else.
And she watched the sun as it climbed higher in the sky, knowing that he was right. It would be a new day, and with the light, there was a new world of possibilities. There was nothing to hold her back.
Letting her head rest gently on Duncan’s shoulder, she closed her eyes, snow falling softly on her shoulders and in her hair.
She would make it work. She would learn to adapt. And she would love it.
It wasn’t a happily-ever-after ending like so many strived for. It was messy and bittersweet, she knew. But this was the very reason Courtney couldn’t have wanted it any other way. Because this, this was beyond anything one could dream up. It was so much better.
It was real.
*******
By TellMeSomethinIDontKnow on Fanfiction.net
*20 MINUTES LATER* Well, we're here.AUNT BROOKE?!?! oh, hey J.R. I thought you and Natile where grounded.(both Kids) WE ARE!
Well, see you later!
(all 3 peoples)- REMEMBER STAY JUVINILE!
Sorry i havent updated in a long time but heres part 2
Courtneys P.O.V
The kid stooped screaming because he lay on the ground dead. Then all of a sudden the vampire saw me with his red eyes.He looked at me and I looked at him.Then he ran toward me i tryed to run too but he was too fast.It was too late he was in front of me.I tryed to scream but i couldnt help it there was a freaking vampire in fornt of me! I tryed and tryed to scream but i just couldnt,nothing came out of my mouth,but hes mouth was different.He wouldnt stop asking me questions.Then his eyes turned a bright baby blue color they were gourgeous i counted help but just look into them.He looked at me and said why are you staring at me? Well maybe because i just saw what you just did!Your cute when you yell,he said then i blushed.
Courtneys P.O.V
The kid stooped screaming because he lay on the ground dead. Then all of a sudden the vampire saw me with his red eyes.He looked at me and I looked at him.Then he ran toward me i tryed to run too but he was too fast.It was too late he was in front of me.I tryed to scream but i couldnt help it there was a freaking vampire in fornt of me! I tryed and tryed to scream but i just couldnt,nothing came out of my mouth,but hes mouth was different.He wouldnt stop asking me questions.Then his eyes turned a bright baby blue color they were gourgeous i counted help but just look into them.He looked at me and said why are you staring at me? Well maybe because i just saw what you just did!Your cute when you yell,he said then i blushed.
Courtney`s POV:I was just standing there wide eyed on both of them."Ms.Stone,what do you have or doing that is making ths happen?"he asked."Uhhhhh......"I said."She`s mking lights come out her fingers!"Heather said."Heather shut up!"I said."Make me!"she said."Oh,I`ll make you alright!"I said putting a spell to make her close her mouth."Courtney,what was that you just did?"Mr.Smith asked."I got Heather to close her mouth."I said."No,what you did with your finger.Light came out of it."he said.And with that Duncan came running into the gym."Duncan is too!"Heather said finally getting the speel away from her."I`m a what?"Duncan asked like he had no idea what was happening."A wizard!Don`t play dumb with me!"she said.I knew I had to tell them.I was tired of keeping it a secret."Okay,here`s the secret...I`m a wizard."I said.