By mid-morning snow had lightly dusted the ground, but with the bright morning sun, most of the white cover had melted away by mid afternoon.
After feeding the cow and goat and throwing corn to the handful of chickens, Elise decided to explore the village and surrounding area. From the brief walks she had taken, she knew the area had changed during her long absence. The village per se had not existed, but the area was basically the same. She knew her father's fortress was up the mountain. She thought again of Mandine's words, that she would return to her father's home. It made her shiver in the warm sun.
To fit in, Elise had found a skirt and blouse that belonged to Mandine and donned both. It would not be wise to stand out in any way, but she didn't customarily wear long dresses these days. Knee length was her preferred dress and skirt length, but of course that was not something she could do now. Still, Elise was no longer used to wearing long skirts and would have loved to just wear her jeans and T-shirt. She grimaced, then stepped out the front door and walked the short path to the road, she turned left and walked toward the main part of town. As she drew closer to the village center, she could not help but notice the crowd gathering in front of the town hall.
Curious, she continued walking, observing the flourishing mercantile which seemed to advertise every ware imaginable along the front of the small building. It sat advantageously in the center of the town at the crossroad. Elise paused at the edge of the crowd and could not help but overhear two women deep in conversation.
"The list is out," said one, shaking her head. She wore a wide yellow bonnet and seemed unaware Elise stood nearby. "'Tis a long one this time." She turned her head and caught sight of Elise. The woman lowered her voice, putting her head closer to that of her companion. "Pity anyone who has their name on it. You won't find me begging for help in this town." She urged her companion away, further up the road. "Do you recall the widow Glendrick and what happened when she applied for help. . ."
Elise moved closer, saw the scroll of paper tacked to the pole in front of the town building.
Paupers to be sold at public auction.
It was a practice she despised, and apparently it had not been improved upon in the passing of years. Elise recalled a dim memory from her childhood when she had been allowed to attend such an auction.
On many an occasion, her father purchased help for his household at the auction. They had been homeless women and children mainly, destitute families who had nowhere to go, no one to take care of them. They had been virtual slaves working off the price of their purchase. Many times, even when they had worked for years, they had been forced to stay with their employer, having no money or clothes that did not belong to the person who had bid on them.
With a grimace, Elise acknowledged that her childhood had held little joy, and if it had not been for Mandine's many interventions, she doubted she would have survived her father's wrath on many an occasion.
The one time she had attended the auction with her father, she had been eleven years old. She had begged him to take her with him.
When she had witnessed the actual events of paupers sold at auction, she had been acutely aware of the humiliation and shame those people must have felt. They'd been sold and taken away like animals at a fair. It had bothered her immensely . . . it still did. She had blocked that memory until this moment.
Elise stared at the people around her, the children running and playing games together. The men and women worked hard to keep their families together, they seemed loving and protective at the same time. She could not help but compare their life of hardship and lack of wealth with that of her father. His wealth had not made him shirk hard work, but Elise could never imagine him playing a game with her, as a man and his son were now playing up the street.
Elise glanced briefly at the scroll of names and she was already turning away when she stopped in disbelief. She peered closer, certain she was mistaken in what she was seeing. Her name had been added to the list.
Her heart began to thump incredibly fast, causing a pulse to throb painfully at her temple.
Without thought, Elise turned and quickly walked up the steps and into the town building. Pushing open the heavy oak door, she stepped inside, hearing the hinges creak as it swung to behind her, almost catching her skirt. Inside the building the dark quietness closed upon her, the air musty and stale.
She walked toward a light at the end of a long hall, her shoes tapping on the marble floor. She stopped by the open door, seeing a man, approximately in his forties, busily writing at a large oak desk. After a brief knock, Elise walked into the small office.
He didn't acknowledge her presence at once, he didn't even look up, but waved her to a seat.
Patiently, Elise waited, biting her lips to keep her outrage from bursting out.
Finally he looked up, his eyes widening, a slight smile beginning to curve full red lips.
Elise spoke first.
"Sir, there's a mistake on the auction list," she blurted, and was satisfied to see she had his full attention. Almost instantly his smile vanished and bewhiskered cheeks seemed to quiver.
"Really, Madam?" He drew a similar list forward from a pile of papers, looking at it over the top of his round spectacles. "Why should you think an error has been made?" He turned the paper toward her. "Are these not the same names on the list which is posted outside?"
"Yes, yes, I suppose they are." Elise gave the list a cursory glance. She kept her voice controlled, even though she wanted nothing more than to tear the list to pieces. "Therein lies the problem," she said quietly, "my name is on that list and it should certainly not be."
He looked at her fully now, and Elise sat up straight, clenching her jaw at the hint of male interest.
"Madam, if you applied for assistance, then your name appears on the list." he said gently, smiling in a benevolent manner. "That is the rule."
"I know the rule," she gritted, coming to her feet and jerkily stepping back, "but what I'm telling you is -- I did not apply."
He rudely sat back in his seat and tilted his chair to look up at her. "Of course you did." He removed his glasses and pulled out a cloth to clean them, "Otherwise, Madam, your name would not appear."
"I am here to tell you I did not apply. I want my name off this instant." Elise felt his waning interest.
He pulled other paperwork toward him. "I cannot oblige you, madam. There is nothing in the standard practice of posting this list which allows for a name to be withdrawn."
"Then just put a line through it, I don't care. I want my name removed immediately, or I will tear the thing down --"
"Now, madam, please be calm. I regret your upset, but while you have experienced a change of heart, I cannot go and change the entire list, nor is it legal if I start blacking out names. The auction is in two days, the list stays." He stood up, placing his hands on the desk, authority now in his voice. "Should you feel the need to tear it down, let me remind you the proper authorities will be informed."
"You are being obtuse and -- and pigheaded," she gritted, feeling a momentary satisfaction as he looked affronted. Elise wanted to throw something at him, hating the desperation creeping into her voice. "I didn't apply for help. Someone else must have put my name in." He was already shaking his head. Elise clenched her jaw, such a deep fear riding her she felt like she was headed at an accelerated pace toward her own doom.
She whirled and walked toward the door. "I won't show up for the auction," she declared, pulling the door open with furious energy.
She was almost through the door when she heard his voice behind her.
"I am sorry, Miss, but it does not work that way. Whether you appear the day of the auction or not, your name will still be read, and if someone bids on you. . ." he left the rest unsaid, but Elise knew with a certain dread what he meant.
If someone bid on her, unless she disappeared from the face of the earth, they would lawfully own her, perhaps for a year or more, and there wasn't anyone she could appeal to.
She was, after all, a penniless, unattached woman in the year 1846.
#
For Elise, it was the last straw. She had been sitting in quiet meditation in the apple orchard behind the cottage, worrying over the predicament she was in, when he appeared out of nowhere. A boy of about twenty. He was very thin, and looked half-starved as he posted a vacancy notice on the cottage door.
"What do you mean I have to leave?" There was a quality of wildness to her voice, but there was nothing Elise could do to stem the feeling of being pulled further into the quagmire.
Uncertainly, the boy backed away, twisting his sheaf of papers between his palms. "I-I'm sorry, Ma'am, but I have my orders. The house didna belong to Miss Mandine, it was only rented. Her medicinal knowledge was bartered on rent."
"You can't just kick me out!"
"Well, Miss, I understand you have applied for aid --"
Gritting her teeth, Elise jumped down from the small knoll she was occupying. Brushing the back of her skirt, she threw him a steely eyed glare.
"I didn't apply for aid, someone put my name in, not that anyone seems to care. I don't want to leave the cottage. Why can't I rent it myself?"
The boy hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. Elise surmised from the sorry state of his clothes that he was not the owner, but sent on the unhappy mission of evicting her.
After a moment, his face brightened a little. "What services could you barter, in payment of rent?"
"I could sell the cow, the goat and the chickens. They've got to be worth something toward rent."
Doubtfully, the boy walked over to the cow, poked at its ribs. He looked the goat over in the same manner.
"Well, ma'am," hesitantly he met her eyes, and Elise felt her shoulders slump, "the cow is past her prime, she would not fetch much on the market. The chickens --" he shrugged.
Elise felt her shoulders slump. She swallowed hard, then managed, "How long do I have?"
The boy cleared his throat, frowning as he looked down at his crumpled sheaf of papers. She saw the color creep up from his neck, but he didn't utter a word, just stared at the papers.
"Tell me," she said with resignation, prepared for the worst.
"It is most unusual, but - er, you must be out by Friday."
"How gracious," Elise muttered sarcastically, "they've given me two days notice."
#
Elise had run out of options. A small satchel was packed with the meager supply of clothes she'd found in Mandine's stores, some skirts, the green dress Mandine had produced for her to wear the first night, her jeans, sweat shirt and sneakers.
She continued to wear skirts. That's not to say women didn't wear pants or britches further into the countryside, but it was not too common in town. Today was the day of the auction, and Elise had no alternative but to leave. She had carefully packed the small wagon with Mandine's herbs and healing creams and now she stuffed the satchel under the wooden seat.
Two evenings ago she had been desperate enough to seek out Darien and Rufus, but to no avail. She had gone to their home and been told by the manservant who came to the door that Darien was away on business and not expected back for several days. No one was certain of Rufus' whereabouts.
When she had swallowed her pride a second time and returned to the house yesterday, the house had been strangely silent and she had been unable to raise anyone, even the help.
It was then that Elise decided she must leave. She couldn't remain if she were to be auctioned off. It had been an abhorrent humiliation when she'd witnessed it as a child, but now, after having experienced twenty-first century freedom, there was no way she would be under bondage to any woman or man. She wasn't so naive she didn't know what went on in male households when women were purchased at auction.
In her early teens Elise had discovered, quite by accident, that in her father's household, the women and girls bought at the auction were given the choice to be bedded by her father and his friends at whim, or work the dreariest, most back-breaking jobs available in the household.
She'd become accustomed to too much in the way of precious rights and freedom to ever be degraded in such a way. Elise wasn't sure now if the freedom she had grown used to had been a blessing or the opposite, now that she was back here. She might have adapted and changed, but here the times had progressed very little. The differences in attitudes brought home to Elise just how much less fortunate women were, little more than chattel in this time.
Climbing onto the wagon seat, Elise picked up the reins and couldn't help but wonder, as she had done countless times in the past, how her life would have been had she, Darien, and Isabeau been a family.
Weary of questions for which there would never be any answers, Elise clucked to the cow and drove out of town. When she was a short distance away from the main street, she jumped down from the wagon and tied the cow and goat in a lean- to at the edge of a field. She hoped it was a travelers' resting spot, otherwise the animals might be gone when she returned.
With determination, Elise circled back to town on foot, pulling a nondescript brown scarf up over her hair. At the edge of town, she stared at the enormous gathering of people. Stiffening her resolve, Elise knew she could not miss the auction. She walked up the main street, as many others were doing.
She took the risk of being caught, but she had to discover who had put her in this predicament. Someone had to have a specific reason.
Elise drew nearer to the town building, trying to calm her breathing. Her palms became sweaty, not only from the warmth of the sun, but her nervousness at being discovered. Several empty wooden crates had been stacked on one side of the street. Using several of the crates to stand on, Elise scanned the crowd.
As the bidding began with what she thought was unnecessary zeal, Elise sat down. She was unable to stomach watching the auction and bidding. The people she could see who had applied for aid were frightened looking women and children, some of them sickly. One old woman was brought forward on a stretcher; all through the bidding, she remained on the ground and was never moved.
When Elise heard her own name, her attention zeroed in. Casually, so as not to draw undue attention, she stood up again and scanned the crowd. It took her several moments to realize there were two bidders. Indignantly, from the cover of her scarf, Elise stared at the bespeckled clerk from the town house as he called out his bid. Thankfully, as the bidding went upwards, the man shook his head and dropped out.
Someone moved and blocked her view. Leaning forward, Elise craned her neck to see the identity of the other bidder. He was tall, with a heavy paunch, and a rough-whiskered face, his hair a dark brown. He seemed somehow familiar.
A new bidder's voice rose from the crowd. Elise turned her head, but she wasn't quick enough to see who it was before the crowd obscured him.
The rough-whiskered stranger called out again, and on the heels of his bid came another.
"Here, get down now, lass, you are blocking my view."
Someone from behind grabbed Elise and set her aside. Not daring to show her face in case she was recognized, Elise moved into the crowd, searching for the bidders holding up their cards. It was difficult, because most of the men were taller than she.
Frustrated, Elise began to edge her way toward the outer edge. Perhaps it didn't matter. It was wiser if she got out of here, and quickly.
"Am I bid a final amount on one Elise Lancaster?"
From across the crowd Elise caught an unexpected glimpse of one of the bidders, his hand upraised with a white card before he was lost to view.
Pressing back into the throng with difficulty, Elise drew closer to where she thought she had seen the man.
She stopped. He had his back to her. He was a big man, blond hair splayed along the back of his collar. He counted out the money, then lifted his head, looking around as the breeze tossed his hair across light colored eyes.
The breeze played through her scarf, blowing it off her hair, but she didn't notice or care as it trailed behind her in the dirt.
She felt betrayed, angry . . . absolutely furious as she marched over to him.
"Shit." She knew she had shocked several women whom she passed in the crowd, but she didn't care. Unmindful of an audience, she made her way quickly to the man who now watched her approach. She felt anger coupled with an unfamiliar helplessness.
Seeing her coming, Rufus actually backed up a step and put up a hand as if to ward her off.
"What do you mean by participating in this fiasco!" she hissed. "Why? I can't believe you would do this to me. I thought I could trust you."
Would you rather I let the other one win the bid? he signed. It was either my bid or the other.
"I would like to know why I was placed in such a position, she said, then added irritably, "It makes no difference. I do not choose to have either one of you." She looked behind him suspiciously. "And where is this other person?"
Rufus jerked his head toward the platform.
Elise moved around him, but Rufus grabbed her arm.
Elise saw the man and glared at him. He happened to look up, then sauntered over, spitting into the dirt past tobacco-stained lips.
Stopping before her, the man grinned, his teeth, despite an otherwise slovenly appearance, stark white. Feeling a sudden rush of heat, the blood drained from her face. All she could do was stare at the man as he saluted her, then turned on his heel and walked off.
She swallowed with difficulty, feeling as if she were coming out of a trance.
"I have to get out of here." She looked up at Rufus. "I don't know why you have done this, but I will see you get your money back, one way or another." She narrowed her eyes. "For such a big, fierce man, you look very uncomfortable all of a sudden." Elise grabbed his arm and pulled him further from the already dispersing crowd. "What's going on? Rufus, there's something you're not telling me."
It was not my money, he signed. Darien told me to bid. He would not have you go to anyone.
"Darien!" she wailed, unable to help herself. "This is getting worse and worse. You can't be serious. Oh my God, Rufus, how could you be a party to this -- now I really have to disappear, he's liable to make my life unbearable. Where is he? He cared so much, he sent you instead of coming?"
Rufus put a calming hand on her arm.
Elise shook her head. "You don't understand. If you had known Darien -- the way he was at seventeen, and the different man he is now. He's so hard, so -- unforgiving."
Rufus signed. Perhaps my brother needs time.
"How did Darien know of the auction? I heard he was away."
Rufus sighed, then searched in his coat pockets, patting both sides before he pulled out a wide flat pencil and then a piece of paper from a breast pocket. He moved over to a fence post and began to write.
He held the paper out to her.
My brother tends to business off the Mountaintop. I sent a message as soon as I saw the posted scroll. Had he not taken the matter in his hands, I would have done the bidding myself.
"How could you get a message to him on such short notice?"
Pigeons, he signed. Darien is in Catskill. When my bird flew in, the keeper of the pigeons brought him the message. His reply came back the same way.
"What was the reply?" Despite herself, Elise had to know.
Now Rufus grinned. Outbid all others.
A feeling of exultancy swept through Elise, a quiver of emotion infusing her entire body with dangerous hope. Why had Darien done it?
Noticing for the first time how truly pale Rufus was, Elise asked him if he was well.
Yes, I am fit. Just a touch of something the day previous. The illness left as quickly as it came upon me.
Elise looked down, guiltily twisting her fingers. "I'm sorry Rufus -- for jumping all over you. I was just -- well, afraid." She swallowed, looking up at him. "It's stupid, but that's the truth, I was afraid. I feel like I'm so out of touch. Where -- where I've been these past years, people don't get auctioned. I have no control. This used to be my life, but I don't know it anymore. Nothing is working out as I'd hoped. I should never have come back. Dammit," she spun away from him, staring at hayfields through a blur, "I don't belong anywhere."
He took her arm gently, not giving her any chance at refusal, but led the way down the road, past Mandine's cottage, to his and Darien's house.
At the walkway to the house, Elise stopped dead, looking up at Rufus.
"My belongings, I left them in the cart with the animals on the outskirts of town."
I will send someone to fetch it, he signed.
Elise drew a quivering breath as she allowed Rufus to lead the way up the walk toward the house.
#
Stay, Elise, and be our housekeeper Rufus signed.
Elise sat in Darien and Rufus' parlor. An incredulous laugh escaped her. "You're kidding, Rufus, right? This is a joke."
He merely looked at her.
"Rufus, you're crazy. What do you think Darien will say when he comes home and discovers your brilliant idea?"
Rufus smiled, a quick quirk of his lips. He leaned against the door frame. It will be extremely interesting, he signed.
Elise rolled her eyes. "Of course, you would find this funny. From what I have seen you find humor in the strangest places."
You are offended being offered a housekeeping position until Mrs. Lennox is well? Rufus signed.
"I don't see the job offer as an insult." Indeed, she had cleaned bathrooms to support herself and her daughter during some lean years. Elise shook off the memory, knowing she must make Rufus see reason.
"And I don't hesitate on Darien's, though I'm sure things will be damned uncomfortable. What about Adeline?" Elise sighed. "Although we've barely met, she seems a decent person, and I really think I'd be hurting her the most if I accept what you're offering."
Set your mind at ease. Adeline has gone back to her home.
"Gone?" Instantly, Elise was overcome with guilt, thinking of the night she had barged in uninvited. "My God, it's my fault, isn't it? That night I came here --"
He shook his head and again reached for a sheet of paper. He wrote on it and handed it to her. Darien and she parted as friends. Whether it is a permanent situation, I am unsure. Truthfully, if it were, I think it would be for the best. They were not suited."
As much as Elise wanted to believe what he said was so, she shook her head. "You don't know that. Did Darien tell you about it?"
No.
"Then you can't know." She was back to square one. "I know Darien, he wouldn't think about marriage unless he cared about the woman."
"I'm gratified by your sentiments, Elise," drawled a voice from the doorway. "Are you and my brother having a private discussion?"
"Darien." They stared at each other, and the air grew heavy with unspoken emotions.
After a brief span, probably only seconds, Darien turned to his brother. Elise sat still, observing the two brothers greet each other with mutual respect and affection.
Rufus clapped his brother briskly on one shoulder. Our minor crisis is at an end.
Darien merely looked at his brother with eyebrows raised.
"Rufus explained that Mrs. Lennox fell and badly twisted her ankle," Elise said. "The doctor advised complete rest for the next month. He has asked me to consider filling in as temporary housekeeper during her absence."
"How . . .considerate," remarked Darien. His face was blank, leaving Elise frustratingly uncertain of his true feelings.
"I didn't really say I would --"
Of course you will help us, Rufus signed. Elise looked from Rufus' sly grin to Darien's inscrutable face. The man must be made of steel, or empty of all emotion! She felt more unsettled by his non-reaction. She would rather know exactly where she stood with him than play a guessing game.
Despite the circumstances, she knew she did want to stay. It was as if fate, in the guise of Rufus, was leading her in the direction she had wanted to take all along. In all probability, she was letting herself in for a tremendous heartache and pain, but the thought of it was not a deterrent. She had to know if there was any hope for her and Darien. If he truly did not want her, then so be it. Many things had changed, she thought with grim humor, maybe in the end she would not want him. She was a fighter, but there was no sense in looking ahead for trouble.
Elise stood up slowly and faced Darien. "Thank you for -- for having Rufus help me out at the auction." She drew a deep breath and extended her hand. "I'll accept the temporary position if it's what you want also."
Rufus rose to the occasion, touched his palm to hers, then brought her hand to his lips, a roguish grin playing about his mouth.
Darien watched them, arms crossed in front of him.
Undaunted, Elise turned to Darien.
"Darien?" she queried, hand extended.
"You wish to shake hands?" He looked totally nonplussed.
Elise nodded. "Sure, to officially seal our agreement for temporary employment. And that's what it is," she insisted, hands now on her hips. "Despite your participation in the auction, you do not own me. I will pay you back every single penny you spent."
Both Darien and Elise turned as Rufus made a deep sound of amusement in his throat. It has begun already, he signed. I surely look forward to this.
"You find this situation amusing?" Darien inquired, eyes narrowed on his brother.
Rufus grinned and then bowed. You must excuse me.
Darien and Elise watched Rufus leave, then looked at each other. Slowly, he held out his hand and she took his hand, the warmth of a callused palm closing over her own with a sureness and strength she well recalled.
Surely the awareness did not go unnoticed by Darien, but he said nothing. After a brief clasping of hands, they mutually stepped back.
"That takes care of it then." Darien turned toward the door, cursing aloud as his toe caught in a rug underfoot. Elise had a momentary vision of him sprawling at her feet, and caught her smile in time.
"My first duty will be to see that that rug is properly tacked," she murmured.
Darien made no reply, indeed he did not turn back to acknowledge her comment. As he proceeded from the room, Elise caught sight of a small smile tugging at his lips. She felt the tiniest relief. Perhaps they could learn to know each other again.
#
Elise acknowledged that living here at times was an impossible situation. Only the day before she'd thought herself alone in the house. Intent on cleaning Darien's room and changing the linens, she been stunned to find him still in bed at mid morning as she started pulling the sheets from the bed.
Darien lifted his head from the pillow.
"Darien!" She stepped back quickly. "I'm sorry -- you startled me -- are you ill?"
"No," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?" He sat up, the white sheet falling to his waist.
Elise edged toward the door, his gaze transfixed on his well muscled chest with its light dusting of blond hair.
"Um -- ten-fifteen. I -- I thought you and Rufus had left for the day."
"We got in late. I should have left you a note."
"I'll come back." Elise wanted to smack herself. She felt like a young girl seeing her first naked man. Except right now all she'd seen was his chest and she felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. "I was going to change the linens."
When he put his bare legs over the side of the bed, Elise turned and left the room.
"I'll come back later," she said, closing the door. He'd acted as if it wasn't unusual to get out of bed, naked, with a woman in the room. Don't think about it, she admonished herself. Don't think about him in there naked.
Now, Elise scattered the last of the corn across the yard for the chickens. It was gloomy and overcast. The sun had not shown itself since the day before. The weather seemed to mirror her present mood.
Three days had passed since she had entered the Remington household. Not quite sure what she expected, Elise was pleasantly surprised to discover Darien and Rufus lived a relatively quiet existence. Their lives seemed uncluttered by the rowdy partying and crowds she remembered in her father's household during her childhood.
During her growing years, her father had been given to lavish entertainment. Indeed, Rogier Lancaster's houseguests had often stayed at their home for weeks at a time. He had provided hunting, and for the less ambitious, there were card games and the ever present gambling tables. There were also a variety of other delights which his city guests fancied, as Elise discovered one night.
On the occasions when the house was full of guests, Elise had not been allowed below stairs after the night meal. Up until about the age of fourteen, Elise had not thought to question her father's dictate.
But on one occasion, sometime after she had turned fourteen and was feeling particularly rebellious, Elise decided she was old enough to begin joining her father and his friends after the meal. Without informing anyone of her intent, one night Elise deliberately left her room and went to join her father's guests.
She heard music and laughter as she descended the stairway, and strangely, her limbs began to tremble the closer she came to the lower level of the house.
The noise and revelry seemed to indicate a good time was being had by all.
#
Elise dusted the last of the milled corn from her palms, fluffing the drab brown apron free of dust as she turned to follow the small stone path leading to the rose garden.
She sat on the sun faded garden seat, then leaned back as the memories washed over her, the music sweet and haunting, as clear as if it had been only yesterday.
There were many people in the banquet hall, Elise could hear their laughter. She was too inexperienced to recognize the desperation lurking in their overly loud laughter . . . overindulgence coupled with lives too full of idle pursuits.
As she pushed the heavy banquet door open, it was pulled inward by another hand, throwing her off balance into the room. A man stood in the opening, holding the door as he swayed slightly, his face full of glee as he spotted Elise.
She thought him quite handsome, even though his eyes seemed not quite focused, and not much older than herself. He had curly black hair and was dressed in the height of fashion.
Tentatively, Elise had smiled. The man smiled back, his expression sharpening with interest.
"Come in, my dear," he whispered, displaying an endearing, lopsided smile. Before Elise could respond, his hand sought hers, pulling her urgently forward. Familiarly, his arm dropped like a heavy weight across her shoulders. "Come, come, partake of the feast our host has provided." The man indicated tables laden with food.
As Elise looked around, the young gentleman began to nuzzle at her neck. Uneasy, Elise jerked away. He released her, a hurt look on his handsome face.
"Come now, be a bit more friendly. I'm a nice bloke, you can ask any of the other girls."
It was then that Elise, for all her naiveté, knew she had made a mistake. The tempo of the music changed, became fast and erratic, an accompaniment for the fear which now clutched at her.
Elise stepped back toward the door as several men moved toward her. Elise realized she had to get out of there. Fearfully, she looked for her father, but she did not see him anywhere.
Elise turned to flee, but found a man deliberately blocking the door. With a laugh, he lifted a goblet to his lips, his eyes dark and, to Elise, filled with menace.
She turned to find several men had surrounded her in a circle.
With growing desperation, she turned fully around. There was nowhere to go.
She looked for help, saw a woman standing on a table, removing her clothes piece by piece to the accompaniment of whistles and cheers.
Belatedly, Elise realized the room was almost entirely made up of men, with the exception of a handful of young girls, dressed quite scantily and sporting heavy makeup.
"Come on," urged one of the men behind her, "you can choose who shall partner you."
She shook her head. "No, I must leave. I should not have come --"
"Here now, there is no call for teasing."
The young man grabbed her arms and Elise pulled back, feeling herself grabbed from behind. Those hands spun her toward the young man, into his opened arms. With a semi-intoxicated laugh, the young man bent his head toward her. Panic-stricken, Elise pushed a hand up and the heel of her hand connected bluntly with his nose.
Mesmerized, Elise watched the blood spurt and then dapple the pristine whiteness of his shirt front.
The man drew back in astonishment, staring at the blood and then Elise, a primitive anger beginning to mottle his cheekbones.
"You like it rough, my sweet? I can oblige." As she opened her mouth to scream, a hand clamped over her mouth and throat.
Panicked, Elise felt consciousness begin to recede.
In the next instant, the hand was removed from her mouth and she was lifted and taken from the room.
Elise began to struggle, kicking and screaming. Abruptly, with a sound of disgust from the man holding her, she was dropped to her feet.
Standing with clenched fists, she opened her mouth, then closed it, staring in confusion at the hall where she now stood. The door to the banquet hall was closed, and before her stood a blond haired boy.
Somehow he had gotten her out of the room, away from those hateful men.
He was the son of the local tavern owner come to deliver more ale.
Elise had seen him on other occasions, although they had never spoken. She later discovered his name was Darien. . ..
"Tell me, 'Lise, what affords you amusement on such a dreary day?"
Elise focused on the present. Darien stood before her, an incredibly attractive man. Forever lost was the boy of seventeen.