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Author's Chapter Notes:
Certain motives are revealed...



Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


Chapter Two

Wounded Rhymes


The morn brought a fresh springtime breeze through Alice’s half-mast window as she made her first cognizant turn for the day. She’d overslept it seemed, by the tell of full bands of sunbeams, causing a disparaging groan to pass her lips at the realization that the previous day had come to past. Much To her horror.

But one could not sit and place their misfortunes in a basket, nonetheless how badly she wanted to foster those grievances. And desperately did she try to convince herself that she was the woman of quiet certainty but nevertheless the previous afternoon lingered in the recesses of her mind, like a ridiculing patch of bad weather.

She had gone above and beyond her rank with her father- that of her complacent tongue and misconstrued notion of dignity- and a woman could not afford such a decorous luxury. Fear made her desperate and flighty, but it was that in itself, fear, which kept her in the down of her bead. Amends could be made, perhaps her standing was salvageable. She knew not from where what had inspired in her this madness.

At one time it would be one thing that a glance would send her soul buoyant at a mere glance at her father. But now, she knew not where they stood. He’d struck her, her hand flittered to her left cheek at the remembrance still in her flesh. She supposed the wound upon her heart was visible in her flesh but she was still physically composed.

And her unabashed hatred towards her step mother- it seemed that drunk with anger, her tongue had been extremely forgetful. Perhaps the damage was done, Alice could envision the seams of their once tight knit ecosphere unraveling before her very eyes.

Her lips shivered and a deep sob found itself stuck at her throat at realizing that it wasn’t anything for a woman to find escape in marriage but not ever did she fixate herself pondering the same circumstances. It was being thrust upon her nonetheless, but there was something appealing. There were certain freedoms but in reality it would be nothing more than another prison filled with pretentious curtains- and under another man’s thumb.

Perhaps she’d outlive the Earl. But she thought better, his line was blessed with vigor and longevity much to her dismay and disfavor. He’d breed her relentlessly she knew as much, Alice thought as she began the slow process of steeling herself. He would want sons and with his rumored virility… but that was ton gossip- not meant for a gel’s docile ears. But in her defense she was not secluded in some ivory tower. She possessed intellect enough to surmise as there was not enough that a governess could tutor or a university could provide a woman.

Woman was the very definition of trial. She thrust back the covers and prepared herself for presentation. Her skin flushed with a whore’s blush as she managed to dress herself without the aid of her maid, which pleased her greatly because at present she could not bother with company, for certain sorrows were best mulled over in privacy. Then a thought came to her, one that she had not ever contemplated.

-&&-


Alice exited her chambers with hesitation and traversed the expansive pearl-hued and gilded crown molding corridors with a bittersweet lump caught in her throat. She would miss here, despite everything about the place being devoid of warmth. It was the shades of the once content that passed through these rooms that gave it even a glimmer of light, but not now- not after... A soft shuffle and she was thrown from her reverie.

She caught sight of Chessa quietly closing a door, a wash basin in hand, her frame looking weary as Alice stole an unguarded moment. It was brief but the two made eye contact before the woman’s years spilled from her and was reduced to a girl evading Alice’s gaze.

“Chessa.” Alice stopped dead in her tracks at her maid’s demeanor.

Chessa did not respond, instead sheepishly brushed back frayed wisps of hair and her hand smoothening the cloth stretching across her abdomen.

“Are you ill?” Alice immediately went into action and removed the basin from her hands. “Come sit.” She then ushered Chessa to a nearby armchair and knelt before her friend. “Please, speak to me. You’re worrying me.”

Chessa cleared her throat twice, her eyes swimming in a glaze. “It’s nothing ma’am.”

“Do not lie to me, Chessa. I happen to know when you’re lying.” A tear slipped from her friend and she used the loose apron about her waist to pat the offense away. Her voice softened by degrees, “Now what is the matter. Neither of us will budge from this spot I fear, until you divulge your worries.”

In answer she bowed her head and clasped her hands, looking at them dejectedly. “I cannot,” she sniffled.

Alice tipped her head up, forcing her to look at her. “Why can’t you look at me?” But Chessa only worried her hands more incessantly.

“Look, Chessa. I’ve considered you more than a maid or friend- but much of a sister to me. And I love you as I would one, I cherish that above else. It saddens me that you can’t come to me when I feel as though I am able to turn to you in any hour of duress. I have shared everything with you, so why mustn’t you?” She covered her hands over hers. “Please.”

A look flew into her and the earlier flight warping her mannerisms doubled in severity. She hugged Alice to her furiously and kissed the sides of her face. “I don’t deserve such a loyalty.”

“Yes you do,” Alice exclaimed adamantly. “You are my truest friend.”

“I do not deserve that either.” She clung to her mistress, not quite wanting to let go. She had betrayed her greatly but what she’d learned was something was perhaps to absolve her. Chessa, ultimately though, was not concerned about absolution it was simply she wanted so badly to save her friend- yes, her friend from something she herself could not understand or very much deter.

Both women, wrapped in an embrace failed to hear the heavy footfalls approaching them.

It was Chessa who was the first to be brought back to reality. Her breath caught in her throat and she could feel her face swell with indistinguishable shame, lust, and anger for the man before her. Her legs were loose and brittle like pasta shells and she feared she would not trust herself to stand on her feet.

Her mouth gaped slightly and a small sound escaped like wind stealing through an empty house.

She clung to Alice, as though desperately trying not to make one or the other see or perhaps to shield herself, she could not decide.

“Lord Mather.” Alice jolted at the change of atmosphere, his pleasant demeanor contradicting by wallowing in electricity. “I didn’t notice you.” She disentangled herself from Chessa and eased to her feet a little winded, partly on his unexpected presence she assumed.

Chessa watched silently from her perch at the transaction, even with her, Arthur barely acknowledged her- a fleeting glance as if that were all she was, a fleeting moment equating to naught. He did though voraciously consume Alice, and the poor girl reacted obliviously to this. She simply climbed to her feet with the elegance afforded to her station and the guarded mask marred her face. Chessa was relieved by this, that all her persistent lamentation of his fineness had not softened her.

She was very glad for this.

“May I request a moment’s dalliance? I fear that I must right certain misconceptions from yesterday, please forgive my forwardness to come directly to you instead of speaking forthrightly with your father but I feel that in it being a matter of the heart that I must implore that you-”

“Lord- Arthur. Please, it is hardly necessary to apologize. But as I think of it, if you would accompany me to my sitting room we could speak of it more appropriately.”

Alice broke away from the dialogue to look on Chessa. She hugged her again before whispering, “Later. We shall speak later, of whatever is troubling you.”

Chessa’s stomach fell as she watched Alice place her arm in the crook of his and the two slowly walked away.

-&&-


“Tea?”

He’d been wolfing her down for the most part of being in her presence, for he could not control himself at such an intimate proximity. Her delicate scent wafted and skewed his senses as she stretched across him, her body quite innocently if not unconsciously pressing into him briefly before lifting the teapot and pouring its contents into the feminine bone white china.

His cock was unsympathetic to her wiles, because somewhere deep within her he thought she knew what her coy wiles were capable of.

She brought her cup to her lips, saucer in hand and sipped deeply with satisfaction after pursing her soft lips to blow across the hot fluid surface. She seemed disconnected and pensive, even behind that well construed smile.

“About the previous afternoon,” he began.

But to his surprise she held up an index finger playfully. She leaned forward again and removed the crystal dome that was the centerpiece of the snack table. She held forth a platter of what appeared to be cookies.

“Madeleine.” It was not a query, simply a demand and he was wise enough to catch on as she waited with the steadfastness in her dreamy dark eyes.

“Of course,” he took the crisp delicacy sitting at the peak. “But I think what I-”

“Uhh ah,” she warned as she waited for him to take a bite. He complied as she looked on at him in satisfaction as he took a mouthful. “That is much better.” She animatedly set the platter back amongst the festivities of fresh cut lilies and orchards and bouncily turned to him, then straightened out her skirts chastely layer by layer.

She took up most of the love seat, he didn’t mind for it was more of an opportunity to be closer to her- to take her in, in turrets as she was close enough for the light perfume at her neck to enrapture him. The fine lines of her lips, how plump and sweet.

Alice clasped her hands and held close guard to her cards. “Lavender madeleines. I made them myself.”

If it were only decorum he’d muse that what he beheld seated before him was a gem amongst paste but something told him flesh and bodily that this woman was more than he’d given credit. He could accept that, he favored the chase really. It had been some time now since he had conviction in little, especially considering the nether regions.

This ploy of hers- somewhere between teasing and placating him with sweets she had somehow gained the upper hand. He could feel the succession of succeeding power. And that was dangerous for him. He prided himself on being a man of enterprise- both in his business endeavors and the carnal bed. This, he could not understand. In her presence she had him buckling at his knees, worshipping her almost.

Perhaps it was more so his ego who had fallen victim. She was tainted, for lack of a better word. And him, he by nature was the repair man in all aspects of his life. He salivated almost at the prospect of conquering a woman such as that. Undesirable, shunned, scandalized…

And she did not want him.

He was very well aware of this, he’d be a simpleton if he didn’t. But that did not discourage him from playing upon oblivion, it did quite excite him to see her blatant discomfort. Her distaste and disinterest made her exclusive, made him quiver at the prospects… But now it appeared there had been some colossal shift, following yesterday and its tumultuous events.

And that, he chose to overlook that… thwarting occurrence, he’d managed to save face- he simply had to. And her father, the dense man had believed he had conciliated him. It didn’t hurt one bit to be perceived as a lovesick fool inebriated on a foolhardy notion love. He had no love for her, at least he believed it was very little of that as he really considered it as she spoke on about some sort of womanly nonsense.

And it did take a bit of effort to actually listen to her oftentimes, when all he wanted to do was fuck her until she squirmed with the distress of having him inside her. She had taken apart of him and he wanted it back, to even reimburse her for the inconvenience.

And that was the problem, to fuck her would be one thing but to actually have her was something altogether. She was old money, her father was bursting from the seams in prestige. And the pure mystery of her in entirety, the contempt of the ton- the gem in the ivory tower. The bullshit of it was romantic, really, the whole tragic marionettes upon the stage was very appealing to one as jaded as he.

He was bored and looked at her essesntially as an outlet, a project of sorts- one who had her grip about his balls.

She laughed airily although he could feign believably to know what the topic was on.

Yes, this was in actuality about ownership. Especially power. Apart of him, what he had held in check flared whenever in her presence as he found himself excited again and shifted in discomfort to alleviate the constriction of his cock. After all, she was breathtaking in the plum colored dress.

“Yesterday,” he began. He tired of this game of hers, the deflection and heady blushing she was playing at. He had no interest in a woman that wanted him- for he wanted the game. The taming. He wanted to break her.

He turned into her, freeing his coat tails from between them so he could face her wholly “I sought to make my intentions evident.”

“I intend to court you, I have spoken to your father and he has bestowed his blessing upon this endeavor. But out of newfound respect for you I have approached you on this in order to go about this tactfully with discretion.”

And here he was reduced to this. Proposing marriage in order to have a woman. The thought would have been ludicrous months before but in regard to stacking his new venture against the naysayers. And he defended his motive that it was more so a strategic business reposition if not for the sole reason of attaining unattainable pussy.

The Darhling family had lucrative exportation ties to Africa and the Indian Ocean- thus infinite possibilities. So he could muse and rightfully say his cock, for once, had not led him astray.
He was, in retrospect, in good spirits with a victory on the horizon. He saw the shock behind the mask of pleasantry and he smiled cruelly. Yes, he had her now. For once he set sights on an undertaking, he stood resolute.

-&&-


She was in shock. It was one thing to prepare for one’s execution but to walk the mile following the last supper, that was something she had not prepared for. Alice leaned forward with trepidation in her belly, her hands voicing said anxiety as she placed a hand to her stomach as she reached for her cup. She took a deep drink of the now cold draught. But of course, that did not help.

Alice looked at him with hatred bleeding her eyes, a feeling as raw and unabated as she’d ever had sanction to feel. In that moment he had robbed them – her, her relationship with her father- of all they had constructed these past years. There came the next verdict, the severing of her affection for her father and the finality that he had finality retreated from her and joined the mob, what was set to be her undoing. It was as though Arthur no longer teetered that line of her existence of them and her.

For a moment of time he had transcended that line and she feared that as best as she could hope there may never be a second chance. He had single-handedly managed to destroy the love of one person she adored, all for the sake of her father’s aspirations if she was able to face the truth- and for what? Wealth? They already had this, she was perplexed, wasn’t that enough but she knew her father had an obsession with betterment.

And here she was with her womanly scorn, she had foolishly sworn it- the dissipation of her relationship with her father, and to save face she would have to produce. How could she begrudge her dignity? This here was the catalyst to the end of her world as she knew it.

Not only was she shocked, but she found herself to be speechless as well. She gaped stupidly at him as she turned over in her mind what he had said, proposed actually. And finding out that she truly had no sway over her life or anything for the matter was extremely sobering.

“I do not know what to say my lord.” She licked her suddenly dry lips. Her dark eyes meeting his resounding ones.

His fingers trailed across his lap over to hers to cradle her hands in his. “Only that you would have me, when I do ask. I want to bring you consolation as to my motives, I admire you and we would make a fine match I fear. Gentle, steadfast, and endearing. That you are.”

It sounded so tepid coming from him. But upon his skin touching hers- the realness of it she crumbled and she fought to hide the tremor of her legs and the lax settling in her bones. “Lord Mather, I feel inadequate for such grand accolades.”

She lowered her chin almost demurely but his fingertips raced to her chin and tilted her head so he may continue seeing her eyes. “You are very deserving, my dear.” She watched as though in slowed motion, his clutch raising her hand as his sandy head lowered.

His lips were soft and left a blistering trail, as she swore she felt the flitter of his tongue against her skin as his mouth skittered across the back of her hand. She retreated but his hold was firm. And finally when he did return his gaze to hers they shone with a smoldering intensity that had her mouth going dry.

“I beg to simply impart a small token of my affection.” His eyes shimmered as though he’d lost any semblance of the gentleman that he was, merely mirroring a predator circling in the murky waters.

Her breath held tight, her breasts heaving heavily as the breath expelling from her blew out humid and thick. Her lips parted, waiting for the translation to connect.

Arthur shuffled silently, navigating his way into her space. He paused, still searching her demeanor for something as his grip still held hers. His hands shifted, slowly climbing her skirts then the narrow dip of her hips to rest at her waist as he moved in encouraged by her inaction.

Just a taste, he reconciled with himself.

He moved in at the earliest opportune, drinking in her breath and clutching her supple flesh. His tongue darted out tasting her lips- that sweet breath. He’d barely delved in but he’d become heady from the sugar and taste from tea and sweets. And it was as he’d dreamt, she complied- her soft mouth encouraging him as he plunged into the tight corners. He explored languidly, lapping at her lips- his tongue tasting hers- the deliberate tango as he coaxed her body into his rhythm.

She exhaled a faint mew, which maddened him enormously. Soon she was pushed back into the loveseat and his torso was set upon hers, the soft grind of his hips against her pure delirium. The play was nice, the laze as he began to knead higher towards the soft peaked mounds.

But he reigned in, remembering himself. It was too soon, for he enjoyed the chase more than he’d liked to have admitted. He gave long parting kisses as he drew them back up into erect positions.

Her face appeared somewhat stunned as she looked at him bewilderedly before her fingertips absentmindedly found her full lips. Her free hand worried at her skirt as her mind scuttled about in conversation. What was the matter with her? She’d never- had those feelings before, as intense as that.

But nonetheless she met his gaze and he’d been just as rattled as her. His immaculate hair was slightly out of place, his cravat shifted and his lips parted as though deliberating the prospects of another go about.

“I believe I should take my leave.” She looked away, at the pastel floral wallpaper- at nothing in particular. “My father has been expecting me for the past hour now.”

But neither of them moved. Arthur was the first to initiate action, he leaned forward to reclaim her hand. And his lips touched at her hand again, this time more chastely although he could do little to conceal the hunger in his eyes. “Have confidence in me and I will prove myself to you.”

Arthur raised to his feet and in leave-taking shot her a glance before leaving her with her demons.

There was not much to ponder on at her watching him- but the kiss, the memory of it was well branded on her and left her confused. As to what she felt for the man or even where she would subsist in all of this.

She could do this, she thought defiantly. Because she had to, she could do what needed to be done but nevertheless she found that she- who was her last champion- had even betrayed her own self.

-&&-





Chapter End Notes:
I'm definitely putting myself on a update schedule, hope you all have enjoyed. I was sitting on this one for two long, feel so so about this post but definitely I shall give the plot a jumpstart in the next couple of chapters. And cast photos are in the works, I'm attempting at getting that one right.

Song Diary: Detachable Penis by King Missle; Breaking It Up by Lykke Li; Knocked Up (cover) by Lykke Li; Little Bit by Lykke Li; Until We Bleed by Kleerup ft. Lykke Li; Heartbeats by The Knife; None of Dem by Robyn; Wolf Like Me by TV On The Radio; Hearts on Fire by Cut Copy; 40 Day Dream by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros; Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros

If you haven't heard of or checked out some of these jams, check 'em out (I'm going through a Swede phase, can you tell?). I love music, looking to make a music connection ;)




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