“I mean passion, Eliza – have you ever known passion?”
“No.”
“I thought not,” Harriet replied dismissively.
Harriet fell silent and seemed to be consumed by her own thoughts as Eliza, having arranged her dress, fell to brushing her long blonde hair.
“Can you keep a secret, Eliza?” Harriet asked at length.
“Yes, Miss.”
“I have a lover.”
Eliza resisted the urge to tug violently on Harriet’s hair with the brush.
“And he is such a lover,” Harriet elaborated.
Eliza said nothing but found herself brushing with extra tenderness as she thought forlornly of Lorenzo.
* * *
The following day, as Eliza collected herbs in the kitchen garden, crouching down at the edge of a path beside a bed of thyme, she became aware of a presence looming over her.
Turning to put a handful of thyme into her basket, Eliza saw the unmistakable black shoes and well-defined calves of Lorenzo. Involuntarily, her eyes drank in the length of his legs, until they reached the hem of his doublet. His dark eyes gazed down upon her.
Lorenzo knelt beside Eliza. “You have been avoiding me,” he said.
“No, Sir,” Eliza insisted, “I simply have no reason to converse with you–”
“Eliza, the last time we were alone together, I felt the strongest conviction that you wished to converse with me in the most intimate way possible. Now you won’t even look at me. What have I done?”
“Nothing, Master,” Eliza replied, keeping her head stubbornly turned from Lorenzo. “I just realise it is unrealistic to expect…” Eliza’s words trailed off. She couldn’t express her feelings in a way that seemed at all rational.
“Come, Eliza,” Lorenzo urged, rising and pulling Eliza up with him. He led her into the adjoining secluded walled garden.
“Eliza, what you witnessed in my mother’s chamber was not what it appeared. My affection for Harriet is not of an amorous nature – she is like a sister to me.”
“So why the secrecy – why the intimacy?” Eliza asked.
Lorenzo’s look was hopeless. “Don’t you trust me, Eliza? Do you not believe what I tell you?”
“I believe the observations of my eyes, Sir,” Eliza replied.
“And why cannot you call me by my given name? Call me Lorenzo.”
Eliza didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t know what to believe any more.
“Come,” Lorenzo urged, taking Eliza’s arm and leading her through the walled garden and out of it into the woodland beyond. He pulled her on along the path, deeper into the woods, until they were well away from prying eyes and ears.
At last Lorenzo stopped and turned to face Eliza. “What I am about to say, I tell you in the utmost secrecy,” he began soberly. “When you stumbled upon me with my cousin, I was attempting to dissuade her from a most perilous course of action. You have heard that there is suspicion abroad that my father is involved in a treason plot against our Queen?”
Eliza nodded attentively.
“The rumours are unfounded but they have arisen because my cousin Harriet is embroiled with a rogue who intends to overthrow the crown–”
“Embroiled?”
“I speak too vaguely. It pains me to state the facts more plainly. Harriet is in love with this brigand – besotted by him. She won’t hear reason. Before I knew of the affair she had the audacity to meet with him here, in Braggot Park. And because my mother was of Spanish stock, reports of this meeting have been corrupted and my father is now suspected of having sympathies with the Roman Church. It is he who is suspected of collusion – not Harriet.”
“Does your father know of this, Lorenzo?” Eliza asked.
A fleeting smile flashed across his otherwise stern face to hear her speak his name. “No one knows but Harriet and me,” he said.
“Why can’t you tell him?” Eliza asked innocently.
“The knowledge would worry him to death, Eliza–”
“But instead you are worrying.”
“Not when I’m with you, Eliza,” Lorenzo replied, caressing her cheek with his strong hand.
Eliza couldn’t help but kiss his hand and then kiss his cheek as he pulled her to him.
“Am I forgiven?” Lorenzo whispered.
Eliza nodded, brushing her smooth cheek against his as she did.
“And might we now converse as we almost did before, Eliza?” Lorenzo asked, encouraged by Eliza’s tenderness.
“Here?” Eliza cried, shocked at his suggestion. “My dress would be torn to shreds on the woodland floor,” she complained.
Lorenzo raised an eyebrow and smiled, seeming to perceive little problem with this outcome, but he reassured her, saying archly, “There are ways and means of taking our pleasure that would ensure minimal dishevelment to your attire, Eliza. Not without intention did I lead you to this arbour.”
Lorenzo guided Eliza over to a strong tree trunk and gently pressed her against it. As Eliza leant back, Lorenzo began his quest beneath the skirts of her dress.
Within moments, Eliza felt the intense sensation of Lorenzo’s hands caressing her in ways and places in which she had never before been caressed. Too shy to keep her eyes open, Eliza couldn’t see Lorenzo’s features but she knew, from his ardent kisses, that he marvelled at his discoveries as much as she thrilled at his touch.
“My darling Eliza,” Lorenzo whispered, “how I have longed for our union.”
Eliza’s cries of delight assured her lover that she shared his conviction.
“That night you came to my mother’s chamber,” he continued, “and found me with my cousin, I realised you had come to show your full consent to our passion.”
Eliza could withstand no more. “Lorenzo,” she called out, to signal him to cease his attentions.
Eliza was aware of a counter-cry issued from some distance. The accusation, “Faithless boy!” flew through the air. Looking up, Eliza saw Lady Jane approaching on horseback along the woodland path.
In an instant, Lorenzo had withdrawn his hands from beneath Eliza’s skirts, let down her garments and collected himself. Eliza felt deep embarrassment that they had been discovered thus but Lorenzo, she noted, stood proud, staring directly at his aunt as she neared them.
“Eliza, you were not wrong when you told me my nephew was most civil towards you. Such a display of civility I have not witnessed in a long time,” Lady Jane announced sarcastically when she was upon them. She looked down from her mount in disgust at the young lovers.
“So you did not hunt with my uncle after all, Aunt?” Lorenzo replied, disregarding her reprimand.
“No, I thought it –as you yourself complained, Lorenzo– too much exertion for so early in the day. But I now see you had other plans for your sport and entertainment.”
Eliza was amazed to hear Lorenzo laugh dismissively in response to Jane’s scathing words.
“I fear there is a distinct chill in the air this morning, Aunt Jane. Might I suggest that you retire to the Hall before it gets into your old bones?” he suggested daringly.
“You are an impossible and impertinent young scoundrel, Lorenzo Braggot,” she returned, with no hint of warmth or affection. “And you, young hussy,” Jane continued, addressing Eliza, “can be confident that your departure from Braggot Park will be swift and sure, once my brother-in-law hears of your misconduct and abuse of his, my husband’s and my own trust.”
With that, Lady Jane turned her horse about and left them.
Eliza had tears in her eyes. “I am undone, Lorenzo,” she said bitterly as she wept.
“Undone because you are beloved of me, Eliza?” he replied, lifting up her chin and kissing the tears from her cheeks.
“Do you really not care that we are found out?” Eliza asked, astounded by his indifference to his aunt’s disapproval.
“Two things you have forgotten, Eliza,” he replied. “Firstly, that I am the master of my own fate and I care not wha
t society thinks of me. Secondly, that my good father married for love and has known passion (unlike my cold aunt). He will understand the third thing you should remember: that I love you, Eliza.” And taking her in his arms, Lorenzo sought to comfort and reassure his timid mistress.
“I should return to the kitchen garden, Sir; I’ve been gone far longer than I meant,” Eliza said.
* * *
“No doubt you realise why we have called you here, Eliza,” Lady Jane began sternly. Her husband and Sir Richard were seated either side of her, all three of them facing Eliza like a committee, in the great hall of the house. “We won’t talk of what I encountered yesterday in the woods,” the Lady continued, “but be assured I have relayed details of the event to Sirs Richard and Harry.”
Eliza blushed and bowed her head to hear Jane’s statement of fact.
“In view of your impeccable record of conduct up until this incident –and owing to the leniency of your employers– you will be relieved to hear, Eliza, that you shall not be put out of the house. However, you shall return home with Sir Harry and I when we depart from Braggot tomorrow.” Lady Jane fell silent, allowing Eliza the opportunity to digest what she’d been told.
“Have you anything to say for yourself, Eliza?” Sir Harry asked.
Eliza was about to say no but instinctively she asked, “I wonder if I might speak with Sir Richard alone for a moment.”
Lady Jane raised her eyebrows at this request and muttered something to her brother-in-law about resisting the girl’s feminine wiles. He, however, agreed to a private audience with Eliza. Sir Harry and his wife reluctantly quitted the hall.
“Now Eliza,” Sir Richard commenced more warmly once his family had gone.
Eliza took a deep breath and summoned up the courage to say what she thought it right to tell him – not just to redeem herself but to bring about a resolution to the threat hanging over Braggot Park.
* * *
Later that day Eliza was once again at work in the kitchen garden when she spied Lorenzo storming towards her from the direction of the house. She barely had time to register that his expression was far from affectionate before he was upon her.
“You told my father!” he announced bitterly. “You told my father!”
Eliza trembled to see him so angry. She couldn’t understand his extreme reaction.
“The one thing I specifically warned you against doing, you did!” he exclaimed.
Uneasily, Eliza got to her feet and stood before Lorenzo. She opened her arms helplessly to him.
“No!” he declared bluntly, folding his arms against her embrace. “There will be no more of that, Eliza – not now – not ever.”
“But I love you, Lorenzo,” Eliza uttered desperately. “I thought you loved me–”
“Whether I love you or not is immaterial. Thanks to your actions, after tomorrow we will never again set eyes upon one another.”
Eliza began to sob to hear him pronounce their fate.
“As he cannot yet bring himself to tell Sir Harry and Lady Jane that their daughter is anything less than angelic, my father’s initial proposed solution to this problem is to send me to the Continent.”
Eliza gasped and tried again, vainly, to take hold of Lorenzo.
“So tomorrow morning, Eliza, you will return home with Sir Harry and my aunt and I will travel to the coast to board a vessel bound for Spain.”
“I’m so sorry, Sir,” Eliza pleaded through her tears, “I thought my action to be for the best–”
“If your intended outcome was to be absent from my life forever, Eliza, you did well.”
With that Lorenzo turned from her and strode off in the direction of the woods.
“Wait, Sir – Master!” Eliza cried desperately after him.
“Don’t follow me,” he called without looking back.
* * *
As the veil of night fell over Braggot Park, Eliza sat slumped at a table in the servants’ quarters, her eyes bloodshot from the almost constant tears she had cried throughout the day.
She had been shunned by Lady Jane and Harriet, neither of whom any longer required her to wait upon them. The staff at Braggot were respectfully silent upon the matter of Eliza’s disgrace but she imagined they all knew about her discovery and consequent downfall. And everybody assumed her tears were due to that – nobody knew that her heart was breaking from the loss of Lorenzo.
Eliza didn’t know what to do with herself. She felt so wretched that she decided the only thing for it was to try to sleep. But she needed sleep that wouldn’t be disturbed by others so, realising she had nothing to lose even if her transgression were to be found out, she stealthily went across to the nook where the keys to the various rooms of the house were kept and took, once again, the key to Lady Maria’s chamber.
On reaching the bedroom and unlocking its door, Eliza walked into the chamber and over to its bay window. She looked out across the vast expanse of Braggot Park, lit by the moon rising in the clear night sky. She recalled her first encounter with Lorenzo in the chamber – the shock of hearing his passionate words. She doubted she would now ever know love again; she could love no other man but Lorenzo. Sensing tears welling inside her once more, Eliza undressed and climbed into the large four-poster bed, determined to cease all troubling thought.
At first Eliza trembled with cold beneath the bedclothes that had lain for so long devoid of human warmth but, with time, she began to thaw and gradually she fell into a deep slumber.
When Eliza awoke she had no idea what time of night it was – all she knew was that the new day had not yet dawned – the room was pitch black.
Turning over in the bed and looking to the window, Eliza perceived a figure standing in its bay, a shaft of moonlight streaming down upon him. She wondered at first if she beheld a spectre. But as her eyes became better accustomed to the dark, she entertained the notion that the vision was real. “Lorenzo!” Eliza whispered dreamily.
The figure turned and looked momentarily alarmed. “Eliza!” he then said, approaching the bed and reaching out to ascertain whether she too were real.
“I knew of nowhere else to come but here,” Eliza explained as Lorenzo sat down beside her on the bed.
“I’m sorry I spoke so harshly earlier,” he replied. “I was so angry; I didn’t mean to be cruel.”
“But our situation is hopeless,” Eliza said.
“Hopeless but for this one last night we have together,” Lorenzo replied, rising from the bed and beginning to undress.
Eliza watched him remove his shoes, doublet, shirt and then his hose, but the room was so dark that she couldn’t see Lorenzo’s naked form when it was revealed.
“Come,” Lorenzo then said, extending his arm to Eliza, to encourage her out of the bed. “Come and stand with me in the window; it’s the most magical of moonlit nights.”
Eliza allowed Lorenzo to lead her to the window and the two stood gazing at one another by the light of the moon. Lorenzo looked deep into Eliza’s eyes but she couldn’t keep her own eyes from wandering over the extents of his body, marvelling at his masculinity.
Lorenzo smiled to observe her rapt attention to his form. “Do you feel better Eliza?” he asked, in an attempt to break the spell she seemed to be under.
“I am cold,” she replied absently, still transfixed by him.
“And you will be colder,” Lorenzo replied, stepping forward and taking Eliza’s chemise in his hands, gathering it together and lifting it up over her head.
Eliza’s alarm at revealing her own body to Lorenzo was rapidly surpassed by her joy upon seeing his dark eyes appreciatively surveying her form from top to toe.
“You shall be colder,” Lorenzo repeated as he touched her nipples. “But in time you shall be warmer,” he promised, taking her breasts in his warm hands and then sliding his arms about her waist to draw her to him.
Within minutes, Lorenzo urged Eliza back to the huge bed and lay her down upon it. Eliza witnessed his dark form loom
above her as he climbed onto the bed.
Instinctively, Eliza opened her arms wide to Lorenzo but she was shocked when, instead of doing as she anticipated, he fell to kissing her stomach and then the soft flesh of her thighs, burrowing his head between them.
Eliza was amazed that Lorenzo so naturally knew how to waken and stir in her the deepest of emotions. At Lorenzo’s protracted attention, Eliza found she could bear no more.
“I cannot hold back either,” Lorenzo confessed as he knelt above Eliza.
Longingly, she opened her arms to him, eager to feel his presence before they were to part forever.
“In case you have ever been in any doubt as to the matter, let me assure you that I do love you, Eliza,” Lorenzo said as he took her in his arms.
Tears of joy and sadness streamed down Eliza’s cheeks as she felt the strength of Lorenzo’s full passion for the first and last time.
* * *
In the morning Eliza was awoken when the sun had barely risen by the touch of Lorenzo’s cheek against her own. “Come, Eliza. Arise and dress. We need to depart.”
“Go?” Eliza asked in sleepy confusion. “Sir Harry and Lady Jane will not away until later–”
“But you’re not going with them. You’re coming with me,” Lorenzo said decisively.
“But Sir–”
“My father can make no valid objection to it. And I shall tell him that, unless he grants that you travel with me, I shan’t go to the Continent.”
Eliza finally began to appreciate what he was suggesting. “But what if he should object and say he would rather you didn’t go than go with me?” Eliza asked.
Lorenzo contemplated.
“And how am I to set forth on such a journey with no preparations – no belongings?”
Lorenzo smiled at the simplicity of her perception. “You arrived here with little enough, Eliza,” he said affectionately. “I remember the sight of you standing at the great gates, shivering with cold, your little trunk beside you.” Lorenzo stroked Eliza’s cheek and kissed her head as he reminisced. “I resolved then to take you to bed at the first opportunity,” he whispered playfully.
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