2 Letters

While walking back down the stairs, Eliza found her sisters giggling in the foyer.

She frowned and seemed to guess what was entertaining them based on the crisp, white parchment in Georgia's hands. Coming closer, she heard the sickly-sweet words written in frivolous handwriting and snatched the letter from her sister's hands so they would stop soiling her ears.

"I believe I've already told you how rude it is to open my mail." In truth, she could hardly stomach reading the letters herself, let alone hear them spoken out loud. Glancing over the rest of the contents, she was relieved to see that the girls didn't reach the portion of the letter that was especially explicit.

She placed the letter in a hidden basket for burning the next time they light the furnace. It had only been a fortnight since the last burning and the letters were already stacked to the brim. Each one labeled by the same sender – Lord James

He was a haughty baron that dealt with all merchants who came to town. Some even say he had connections with the black market and made his fortune from selling Opium and other illegal drugs. Only the richest merchant refused to obey him, and that happened to be her father.

It's only a guess, but she assumed he began this needless infatuation after she became an adult and was invited to a party years ago. She hardly went to large gatherings at the time, but her friends convinced her to attend anyway. She borrowed Marnie's dress which was just a bit too tight around the bodice. Halfway through the party, she excused herself to find a guest bedroom to catch her breath.

The manor was larger than any house she's ever seen. She didn't know the owner, but it surely must be owned by a rich family. She tried guessing different doors and interrupted a few couples that were rolling in bed. Her innocent heart was pounding and she ventured further into the house where there is less likely to be fraternizations for her to walk in on.

When she finally found an empty room, she loosened the strings right away and felt immediate relief. Unbeknownst to her, she had barged into the master's quarters and the owner walked around the corner while drying his hands.

Seeing the back of a woman with a loosened gown, he drew conclusions of his own. "Well, this is a surprise."

Eliza, hearing a man's voice behind her, shrieked and crossed her arms over her chest. Spinning to look at who it was, she tripped and slammed her back against the door.

The man was surprised but approached her cautiously, "I'm sorry My Lady, I misunderstood your intentions." He gently held her forearm to steady her and led her to sit down on the bed while she fumbled with tightening the strings.

"Um I- I." Her cheeks flushed, and she kept her head down. He didn't pry or try to catch a glimpse of her face. Instead, he sat on the other corner of the bed and faced the other way to allow her to readjust her clothes.

"Not to pry into your personal issues, but is the dress perhaps too tight for you?"

"Pardon?" Eliza, not used to socializing with other men, was unfamiliar with the etiquette of talking to men she was not officially introduced to.

He cleared his throat, "I apologize, I just want to be able to help my lady in any way I can."

She bit her lip but ultimately admitted it, "It is as you said. I borrowed this dress last second; I didn't consider how ill-fitting it would be."

"Hmm, I may be able to help with that." Conveniently, there was a women's dress hanging on the closet door. "A family friend keeps a spare dress here. It should fit a bit more comfortably."

"Oh, my but is this alright?" She timidly accepted the dress and he smiled.

"She's a courteous person, I'm sure she would understand."

"I see." Standing up, she was holding the dress up against herself and was relieved to see it may fit. "Thank you, Sir...?"

"James. Lord James." He bowed and kissed her hand generously.

Eliza's smile faltered for some reason. When he touched her hand, a strange sense of repulsion made her want to pull away. It was an unwarranted feeling that she buried deep inside. Surely, it had something to do with the fact she'd never spoken with a man before, let alone an unfamiliar aristocrat.

"It's a complicated dress, let me know if you need any assistance." He turned to face away from her.

"Oh um, thank you..." She thought it was strange he didn't leave the room but didn't dwell on it. Although, his comment about knowing how complicated the dress is had bothered her for some reason. She confirmed once more that he was in fact facing away from her and turned away as well so they were back-to-back.

Her shoulders were trembling as she stepped out of her dress and struggled with loosening the bodice of the new dress. In retrospect, she should have prepared the gown for dressing beforehand. It took an awkwardly long time to step into the dress and put her arms through the sleeves. To her dismay, the buttons that tightened the bodice ran up her back.

"Do you need help with the buttons?"

His voice was suddenly right behind her and she felt chills travel up her spine. "If you don't mind, Lord James." She also wondered how he knew she nearly finished dressing.

His fingers were nimble while tightening the dress and she almost wondered if he had done it before. His fingers occasionally grazed her skin that was exposed by the low dip in her corset. He also deliberately slowed down near the end and smoothed out the dress by running his hands down her shoulders and arms.

"Ah um." She spun around and quickly curtsied, "Thank you, Lord James. If you could also pass on my gratitude to the kind woman and tell her I will have it laundered and returned promptly.

The corners of his lips lifted slightly as he bowed, "It was my pleasure, Lady Girard."

"I will take my leave now." Her feet moved quicker than she intended but the longer she spent in that room with that man, the more anxious her heart was. As though she were being cornered by a predator. Shaking off her uneasiness, she went back to the ballroom to find her friends with one last thought weighing on her mind. 'Did I ever give him my name?'

...

Lord James, still in the master room, chuckled to himself while picking up the dress she carelessly left behind. He raised it up to his nose and breathed in her scent. It was a charming mix of vanilla, pear, and the slightest whiff of sweat. He felt himself get excited and only set down the gown when he heard water splashing in the bathroom; followed by the whining of a woman inside.

Walking back into the bathroom, a red-headed woman lay in the clawed-foot tub with her pale arm hanging off the edge. Her complexion was unwell since he left her unattended for too long. He had left to get something for her to enjoy while he watched but was instead interrupted by the sight of the elusive, eldest daughter of the Girard family, undressing in his bedroom.

He wasn't sure it was her until she finally looked up to accept the dress this woman was wearing previously. Her innocent, emerald eyes were begging to be corrupted, and her pink lips made him want to bite them until they turned red.

When the red-headed woman opened her eyes, her gaze was glossy, and her expression was pleading for him. Her lips parted to say something, but no words came out.

"I know what you want." This woman was attractive, and her body was acceptable. But while he watched Elizabeth change through the cheval mirror, the charming lines of her back and her smooth, lovely skin were more alluring than this naked woman.

After feeling turned on from earlier, he dragged this woman out of the tub and pressed her against the wall to quickly relieve himself. Her groans didn't register in his mind. Instead, he imagined defiling Elizabeth in this room and then throwing her onto the bed...

He was more aggressive than usual and didn't notice the woman crying to herself as he abused her body.

"Tsk, how annoying." He hated when the females compained.

...

(Presently)

Lying in bed after such a long day, Elizabeth felt more tired than any lusting feelings she felt those nights before. Anything that involves that sadistic Baron makes her stomach turn and spoils her mood. She left the window open to allow circulation and so she could cuddle in her blankets. Even though she was exhausted, there was the slightest bit of unease towards the window, as though an intruder would come in at any second.

She scoffed at such a thought because she was situated on the third floor and was far too high up for someone to sneak in.

Regardless, she still dragged herself out of bed to lock the window and pull the curtains. That presence didn't leave for a while longer but when it did, she fell into a deep slumber.