Stonehenge

Stretching his hand out to her, Charles pulled Lady Beth across a felled tree as they made their way to the Stonehenge, fallen leaves and dried roots crunching noisily underneath their boots. She was no longer wearing the dress she had on at dinner, but instead, a simple dark blue dress that matched the colour of a cold winter night sky. And she had let her hair let down too, the fiery mass cascading down her back like an enraged volcanic eruption. He preferred it that way.

Lady Beth held up her gown and followed him quietly, the cold air caressing their cheeks carefully. Charles pointed to the Stonehenge as it came to view, and continued still in silence, until they arrived. "Thank you for dinner tonight." He turned. She looked away, her stance guarded. "For asking the King to say those words in our favour. They comforted Gwen."

Charles continued to look, but gestured for her to walk ahead. Having little to no power over the King, he had never asked Alexander to utter such words. Walking again past her, he sat down on a boulder he remembered to be there, allowing her to peruse the large stones of her own accord. Alexander had defended the younger Fitzgerald lady of his own choosing.

Beth walked around each stone, touching and marvelling as she did, not minding his presence. The sky gave a yellow glow as the sun travelled home, and Charles watched her, captivated by her pale skin and how it reflected the sun. She was pale, but extremely beautiful. Maybe that was why she easily coloured upon every compliment.

Her red hair interpreted the colours of the sun better as it lay on her back. It was long and slightly unruly. His fingers twitched, for he wished to know how they felt to touch, to know how silky they were. He would love to ride out the Stonehenge with her someday.

She walked around another stone, running her hands over the markings on it, marveling still, and without thought, his eyes traveled down the length of her body, hidden well underneath her dress. Despite her stature, her hips were voluptuous and with each movement she made, they swayed comfortably underneath her skirt.

When she turned to another stone, his eyes caught the swell of her breasts even in the dim light. By his standards, they were not big – for her preferred the women who attended to him to possess heavy bosoms - but with the hint of her cleavage visible, he was sinfully enticed. They were calling out to him.

Charles never met to admire her so openly, but with her distances away from him in the fading light, he allowed himself the opportunity. She smiled at something she noticed on one of the stones and he was tempted to move his lips. From where he sat, he visualized her face, illuminating it with as much light his mind could foster; recreating the freckles that adored her high-boned cheeks. Her face brightened with each of her smiles, her blushes came easily. She was gracefully elegant and lovely.

"Have they always been here?" Lady Beth enthralled still with the large stones, asked. Charles quickly diverted his eyes. "I should think not. They are magnificent."

Briefly, he spared the stones a glance and returned his eyes to her. "Yes…" She bit her lips in awe. The sun's yellow glow was slowly dying out and twilight soon set in. She continued to observe the stone and he caught on to her hesitation. "…for as long as I can remember." She sighed and nodded. Then, "Come. Sit." Hand tapping on the boulder he sat, he invited. He did not intend to share her attention with another.

Lady Beth's smile held its place at his invitation and she slowly approached him. His stare did not waver until she sat by his side. She did not look at him but at her fingers, sitting away from him, still guarded. But Charles was determined. After a moment, she said. "Do you come here often with the King? I presume with daylight, you could almost see from here to the seas." She was exaggerating.

He was not interested in that. "I was right to assume Cossington approaching you."

Her back tensed. After a moment. "You were wrong." Her eyes were still on her fingers. "This is the first time he has ever attempted such."

And the very last! Charles silently swore. "Can I now be privy to your relationship? Or am I not yet worthy?" The sun settled on her profile. Her countenance was dull.

Lady Beth inhaled and exhaled heavily. "My sister was affianced to Lord Cossington, but he would have no relations with her because of our family's status. He would rather she be his mistress." She heaved. "It seems now he wants me too." Charles's eyes darkened. "Eric had been livid but what else could be done but get angry." She smiled pleasantly at the sad memory or maybe the memory of Eric, whoever he was. His eyes darkened further.

"How difficult it must have been for your family."

She inhaled and exhaled again, but this time, her shoulders relaxed. "It really was." She raised her eyes to the horizon and returned it to her fingers, paying them attention like they were the most interesting things in the world. "Mother did cry a lot, night after night. Eric took more to riding." She bit her lips and blinked rapidly. "But the most horrifying was having to explain to Gwen why the events had happened."

Charles became curious. "How is it that the younger Lady Fitzgerald had been affianced to Cossington?" And who was Eric? "Surely you don't expect me to believe that his Father loved her so, but in time, thought of your family status."

Cossington was a greedy bastard who wanted the finest things of life without having to work much; a trait he had inherited from his boorish, greedier Father, the late Viscount of Sorway. None of the two would do anything impulsively, or from emotions. Nothing could move them so.

Beth smiled and raised her eyes to his. The caught tears made them glistened, like sad diamonds. Then, she stretched her hands behind her, leaned on them and sent her legs forward. "Couldn't he have?" He kept his gaze. Who was Eric? She hesitated and sighed, blinking again, lifting her head slightly. "I should tell you a secret my family bears, My Lord; but I mustn't; none other should know of it."

Charles observed her closely. Her lips uttered the words not to tell, but he saw how greatly she wished to relay the burden to another, another who would understand; one who did not already know of it; one who would not judge. "Lady Beth, what is it that I mustn't know of?"