J. Robb - Bump in The Night

There was a fair set up to 4he southeast of the bridge, and Grace was delighted when her suggestion that they stop a while was well received.

She and Lindsay made their way through the fair, his medal drawing so much attention that finally he took it off and stuffed it in his pocket. The crowd was a mix of every class and calling; it was one of those rare days when all of London gathered, remembering the celebration of the war’s end a year earlier and determined to reprise the good feelings of peace and a secure future.

There was the occasional scuffle. When fists were flying very near where they stood, Lindsay leaned down to her. „Do you want to leave? It is a bit close here.“

„No.“ She laughed as a missed punch resulted in a very comic tumble. „It gives me an excuse to hold on tight to you.“

There were jugglers, trained animals and an illusionist who held their attention for so long that he asked them if they were interested in an apprenticeship.

When they shook their heads, the illusionist asked if Grace would like to assist him. She really did want to go, but her aunt hissed in her ear, „That is unacceptable, Grace.“ And the major held fast to her arm when it appeared she might have stepped forward anyway.

As they watched the young girl who took her place, Grace turned to Lindsay. „Do you believe in magic?“

He watched the lowering sun as it lit her from behind, creating an aura of light around her. Gradually the crowed faded away, until it was just the two of them. He must have watched her for a long time, because finally she whispered, „Are you not sure or have you forgotten the question?“

„Do I believe in magic?“ If she meant the absurd wish that had brought them together, he could not deny it. But she had never heard of Poppy, much less Poppy’s coin. „Do I believe in magic? See, I did hear your question. And my answer is no. What we saw are tricks that fool the eye.“

„No, not what he does, for you are right, that is only illusion. I mean the kind of magic that changes your life.“

He could feel Poppy’s coin heavy in his pocket. „Well, I do believe in miracles.“

„You do?“ With unspoken agreement, they moved away from the exhibition and toward the spot where the carriage awaited them.

„You cannot see the amazing ways people survive in war and not believe in miracles.“

„But not magic?“ She did not wait for him to answer. „Well, I believe in magic, Major.“ She said it as though she was ready for a great debate. She turned to him, „Could it be that that magic is a miracle without God’s blessing?“

„That sounds slightly pagan, my dear.“

She looked at him in some surprise. What had he said? Surely she realized he did not really believe her a pagan?

„You may be right, my lady. Without God’s intervention I suppose magic could be used for both good and ill.“ For he and God knew that the magic of Poppy’s coin had been both a blessing and a bane.

Mrs. Cardovan ran into some friends who invited her to join them for the fireworks. Initially, she refused, insisting that she needed to escort her son home, but she was easily convinced when Lindsay insisted that he could give George all the help he needed. Neither man was particularly interested in the display, having seen too many of the bombardments they imitated, enough to last a lifetime.

They were as silent on the ride home as they had been talkative earlier. George made to speak at least once but both men could see that Grace was lost in thought, her face so clearly determined that they knew it must involve something serious. Whatever George had to say, he thought better of it, leaving Lindsay to wonder exactly what Grace was thinking.

Grace was determined to take advantage of this opportunity. She would make her own magic and hope for a miracle.

When they reached the house, Cardovan brushed Lindsay’s assistance aside and seemed quite able to make his way up the front steps. Once through the door they all handed cloaks and hats to Petkin and, to Grace’s surprise, George abandoned his cane.

With Lindsay at his side, he made his way up the stairs, if not with speed then with surprising ease.

Grace followed them as they proceeded up to the second-floor bedrooms but went into her own room at the back of the house. It was a long while before she heard Lindsay’s footsteps. Opening her door, she called to him, „Major, is he all right?“

Lindsay shook his head. „Why does he even use the cane?“ he said as he came to her door.

„I told you before, Aunt Louise is a loving mother, but much too protective of him. And he is a loving son who wishes to make his mother happy.“

„No wonder he prefers the army.“

„No mothers there?“

The major nodded with a smile. She loved that smile, the way it made her feel that her words were an echo of his thoughts. Grace took a deep breath. „My maid is off tonight. Would you help with my stays?“

His smile vanished. „You want me to come into your bedroom?“ He spoke the words slowly, as though he did not quite understand the concept.

„Yes, please. I hardly want to unlace them in the hall.“ When he said nothing she stepped back into her room, leaving the door open. She was terrified, but reminded herself that all she had asked for was help with her stays. No more.

He came in behind her and stood by the door. „Are there not other maids?“

Grace did not answer him, only walked back to the door and closed it. „Shall I wake them?“

When he did not answer, she turned her back so that he could begin to undo the buttons of her dress. It took an interminable amount of time, the silence complete save only for the sound of their breathing. His was a little ragged, and she almost told him to leave and that she would wait for her aunt.

Then her dress was loosed and she let it slide down her arms so he could easily reach the corset laces. She could feel the tips of his fingers as they worked the silk strings, each touch making her want more. It took him a moment to realize that he must undo them completely for her to remove the garment.

The last of the laces slipped through the holes and Lindsay grasped her shoulders and turned her to him. „God, Grace, what kind of test is this?“

„Test?“ she whispered even as his mouth silenced hers with a desperate kiss.

At first the embrace was arousing, she half undressed, he fully clothed. It was like the conqueror demanding his prize. His touch reached into her with such power that she almost let him have his way, let him take her as though there was nothing more between them than lust. But there was something here beyond the anticipated pleasure. She could feel it in the way his arms held her, the way his body pressed hers. This was as much about anger as it was about sex.

„Stop, David,“ she whispered in his ear, not afraid, not yet; she would only be afraid if he did not stop. „Please, stop, David,“ she whispered again, near heartbroken for him.

He pulled away from her with a frustrated groan that held the echo of his rage. He did not let her go. Instead he leaned his forehead on hers and they stood together, until his breathing steadied, his bruising hold the only sign that he was still angry. „Angry“ is too gentle a word, she thought, infuriated, disgusted.

She leaned back, and his grip eased. „I am so sorry, David. Sorry for teasing you when I did not mean to. I truly did not intend that at all. Kitty did have the evening off. But I did not quite know how to tell you that we would be undisturbed.“

He said nothing. That was his way, she realized, when he was trying not to say something that would hurt her. He was such a gentleman. Most of the time.