Chapter Text
After some brief goodbyes to their new friends, Eliza and William gathered their coats. They stood on Grey's Inn Road, waiting for the next available carriage. William saw Colin and Veronica about to step into one on Clerkenwell. Something made Colin turn and lock eyes with William. Colin gestured a salute and gave a playful smile before climbing in behind Miss Gay. William returned the gesture, then climbed into the carriage Eliza had stepped into.
Sitting across from Eliza, William took off his gloves. "It would seem my suspicion of Detective Bremond was wrong, as he is apparently taking Miss Gay home," he said, some innuendo invading his words.
Eliza looked out of her window to see Colin's carriage drive off. Thinking of his secret, she made a display of stretching out her legs to change the subject. Eliza sighed. "I cannot wait to get home and take off these shoes."
"Tired? Ach, me too," William also stretched and rotated his ankles one at a time.
"I should think so. You danced almost every song and nearly with every lady in Holborn," Eliza said.
William brought his legs back in and chuckled at the idea of that. "Not with every lady. Let's hope if I ever have to make an arrest in Holborn these folks will recognize me and remember my dancing prowess," he joked.
Eliza laughed and said, "About that. How did you become so good? I mean, I figured Father had taught you some basic steps years ago for the ball you mentioned. But his teachings and my very brief polka lessons certainly couldn't have produced the results we all saw tonight."
"Results?" William stalled, playing with his folded gloves in his lap.
"YOUR dancing is masterful! You can't achieve that by practising in your office by yourself. There, I said it."
William's grin lifted on one side of his face, and he glanced to the window. "Fine. Yes, you are correct. I took professional lessons."
Eliza sat there waiting for more. When he wasn't forthcoming, she took her foot and kicked at one of his. "Hey," he said in protest.
"When did you take lessons? Out with it, I want to know."
William sighed. "Fine. Some months ago, arrests had been made at a 'dancing academy.' Mr. Lafayette Summerbee held public dancing after his private lessons, where alcohol was being consumed illegally. When we brought him into the cells, this dancing master offered classes to any constable if we would drop the charges. I was not amenable to dropping them altogether. But there is another Policeman's ball planned for next year, and when my men got wind of Summerbee's suggestion, they pressed me for it. So, I asked Magistrate Wilkes to only fine him, and Mr. Summerbee took on Yard clients at a reduced rate. I had no intention of partaking, but several men, including Colin, had gone, and they spoke highly of his lessons. I went the first time to refine the polka lessons you gave me and found I enjoyed it. Mr. Summerbee had said I had a natural talent and learned quickly, so I continued going until recently, when my workload increased.
"That would explain Colin's aptitude as well. So how long have you been taking these lessons?"
William pursed his lips. "I had started the week after you had taught me the polka in your drawing-room," and kissed me quite boldly , he thought.
Eliza stared at him while he related this to her. "You are planning to attend the Policeman's Ball this time?"
William tried to appear nonchalant. "Perhaps. If time permits."
"Alone?"
William stared pointedly at Eliza. "I hope not," he mumbled.
The air in the carriage seemed to crackle. Then Eliza remembered what Colin had said: Duke had put a "fair bit of effort" into her enjoyment of the evening, and she should ask him about it.
"These lessons– were they taken with me in mind?" she asked after a few moments of silence.
William stared at her. "What do you mean?"
"Was it your intention to take me dancing in the future?"
William shifted in his seat. "Well, I…. We… were estranged when I took most of the lessons. I needed something to occupy me," he said and thought, Drinking every night at the tavern had lost its appeal.
"I asked you this earlier, but I don't think you answered fully: what was your intention taking me out dancing tonight?" Eliza let the sounds of the carriage against the cobblestones invade their conversation as she waited for William to answer.
He frowned. "What is it that you are expecting me to say?" he finally responded.
"Are you trying to court me?" she asked.
Ah, there it is . William's face relaxed now that he understood what she was after. He cleared his throat. "I believe we made it clear that was not to be our goal with our arrangement."
"But this outing, taking me to a ball, impressing me with your knowledge of ballroom etiquette, charming me with your dancing…."
"I charmed you with my dancing?" William interrupted, his face showing his pleasure with her admission.
"Yes."
"I impressed you?"
"Of course, you impressed me. You impressed everyone. But I don't know why you went to the trouble."
"To take lessons or study that damn etiquette manual for a week?" A slight bitter tone invaded his voice as the manual was gruelling reading.
Eliza showed surprise and smiled. "All of it," she said.
"Are you suggesting I shouldn't try to impress you?"
"No. Well, I mean, I'm very impressed, but it's unnecessary. We are not courting."
William took a deep breath. "No, I suppose we are not. But Eliza, I'm not sure I fully understand our arrangement. Are we just supposed to be colleagues? You greet me in my office with a kiss occasionally? Or can we not enjoy each other's company, as you suggested AS IF we were courting? If going out dancing as a couple troubles you, then I'm at a loss: to be honest, I don't know how else to behave."
It was Eliza's turn to inhale deeply. She couldn't blame him; she wasn't sure how she wanted him to behave. "I understand, William. You're right; our arrangement is out of the ordinary. I was worried you were trying too hard, and I need you to know I'm fine with you as you are: dear colleague, old friend…."
"Old friends don't kiss the way you kissed me in the hall," William's voice rumbled, his face becoming serious.
Eliza wondered if William could see her cheeks redden in the dimness of the carriage. She was formulating a response when he added, "Why did you kiss me so aggressively, Eliza? I'm not complaining, but if this arrangement is to continue, I need to understand your motivations."
Eliza cleared her throat. "Why was your kiss before mine so brief?"
William blinked. He couldn't keep the amusement off his face. "Brief? You prefer long kisses?"
"It was brief and timid. You've kissed me so confidently in the past, why not then?"
"I asked you first."
When the carriage crossed a pothole, they were momentarily lifted out of their seats. Eliza was quiet. She had countless thoughts running through her head. What should she tell him?
Eliza looked down at her gloved hands and decided to answer truthfully. "I had just been kissed by Nicholas Stewart. He had been so forceful. I was expecting a much different kiss from you. To help erase his."
William had to inhale to avoid becoming angry again, thinking of what Nicholas had done to her. Instead, he said, "You expected a more…," he paused, his tongue hesitating to say 'loving.'
"...affectionate kiss," he finished. Eliza nodded shyly.
William placed his gloves on the seat and leaned on his knees to grasp Eliza's hand. His eyes bore into hers, and she could feel the heat from his touch penetrate her gloves. "I'll remember that for the future," his voice just above a whisper.
Keeping hold of her hand, he said, "To answer your question: you were acting a bit shy in the hall. I thought perhaps you were afraid of being caught, so I only gave you a quick kiss. I don't wish to make you uncomfortable, Eliza."
"That was very thoughtful of you," she said, eyes sparkling at him. "I was merely trying to figure out how to tell you what happened."
He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and said softly, "I know I can lose the rag quickly, but please don't let that stop you from seeking my aid.
"Still, Eliza, I must beg for your forgiveness," William said. Eliza could hear the sincerity in his voice. She had begun to lean towards him when his expression had become contrite, and his eyes glanced at their hands.
Eliza reared back to scrutinize him. She frowned and said, "Whatever for?"
William let go of her hand and leaned back against the seat. "For Stewart assaulting you. I should have refused Mrs. Goodwin's request to dance with that woman. I should have been with you. I didn't keep you safe and for that I apologize. Profusely."
Eliza also sat back, tilted her head, and eye-rolled him. "William, I appreciate that you promised Father you'd look after me, but you are aware that I can take care of myself."
"I know," William answered, remembering how she escaped the death grip of an assailant just last week while three men with guns stood abeyant around her. He added, "But I could have kept you closer. Or not brought you there in the first place."
"William, we can't avoid life. Overall, it has been a most enjoyable evening. I'm surprised: I've not always enjoyed events like this because of social expectations, etiquette and being overly polite when I'd rather not be."
"Is that why you invited Freddie to join us? To have an ally close at hand?" he asked.
Eliza pursed her lips and nodded. "Yes. But it turned out Colin was equally helpful and a lovely dance partner. I'm glad he was there. And now that we've come, we know what to expect next time."
"Next time? You wish to return? After what happened?" he asked, surprised.
"Of course! We met some new people, made some new friends. They have accepted us even after we fibbed to them about ourselves. I believe Thad said they hold the balls once a month over the winter, but they still have lessons on Mondays and Saturdays. If our schedules permit, perhaps we could take a lesson together, improve our technique."
William just gaped at her. He was stunned at her nonchalant attitude about the evening and their arrangement. He realized if she could be laid-back about it, why can't he? Enjoy the moment, he thought.
Before he could answer, Eliza, said, "Plus, you've charmed Mrs. Goodwin enough she can't possibly refuse us." She broke into a smug smile.
William chortled, then said, "Mrs. Goodwin is very susceptible to a smooth brogue." Eliza laughed and couldn't deny Mrs. Goodwin's susceptibility. William continued, "Very well. I'll see if I can secure vouchers for next month's ball. I believe it has a Christmas theme, and I think Miss Jewkes mentioned some proceeds go to charity."
Eliza's smile morphed into the bright bewitching one that sends tingles throughout his body. "I'd like that," she purred. William's eyes flashed his approval.
The carriage then took a turn, and Eliza glanced out the window. She recognized the brick houses on the lower part of her street. The evening was almost over, and despite being tired, she wished it wasn't so.
Moments later, the carriage stopped in front of her red door. Eliza sat in place, expecting William to exit the carriage and help her. However, he stayed seated, resting his head against the back of the carriage, a self-assured look on his face. She frowned at him. "Are you not going to walk me to my door?"
William knew if he escorted her to the door, the desire to go inside would be too great, and he'd not had enough whiskey tonight to numb those yearnings. Leaning forward, he said soft and deep, "I could do that if you wish. But I believe you mentioned you like long, affectionate kisses. I don't think I could oblige you at your doorstep without causing a scandal with your neighbours, even at this late hour."
Eliza's eyes widened. She hesitated. When he made no motion to lean further toward her, she decided to take the bull by the horns. The choice between kissing him or him walking her to her front door was a cakewalk decision.
William expected her to ask for what she wanted. Instead, she surprised him by moving to sit next to him. Eliza had taken off her gloves and sat holding them in her lap, her body turned toward him, her face raised in anticipation. Eliza's expression matched his self-assured one earlier, and she sat there expectantly.
A pleased look came over William's face. Happy to oblige her, he cupped Eliza's left cheek. She leaned into his hand, and they moved toward each other. William dragged out the inevitability of their meeting as long as possible. Eliza's eyes closed, and she felt his warm lips barely touch hers. He stayed suspended like this for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he pressed his mouth more firmly to hers. He moved his hand to her neck as their lips mingled, each enjoying the warm sensations of being connected. This kiss was more tender than the one in the hall; Eliza felt heat spread through her. It prompted her to tangle both hands into his hair. William moaned quietly when she did so, and his other hand reached up to hold her other cheek. He suspended their kiss long enough to tilt his head to the left and gathered her lips again. Eliza sighed, content to let him kiss her until the sun rose. Finally, William pulled away minutely, holding her face. Her eyes fluttered open; they were glassy with pleasure, and William could not deny how that fed his ego.
They sat, faces close, breaths shallow. Then Eliza touched her forehead to his.
"Ow!" William winced and touched his head.
Eliza jumped back. "What's wrong?"
"Nothin,'" he said and sniffed.
"William! Why does your head hurt?" Eliza was not backing down from his blatant lie.
"I'm fine. It's nothing," he said, avoiding her eyes.
Eliza scrutinized him. "Did Nicholas Stewart hit you?"
William scoffed. "No. But I gave him a Glasgow kiss before he left the hall." He chuckled at the memory.
Eliza winced and tried to see his bruise. "Did you hurt him?"
William dropped his hand. "I may have given his nose equal to what he gave to Johnny's." He grinned lopsidedly.
Eliza shook her head with resignment. Impulsively she put her fingers to her lips, kissed them and gently reached over to transfer the kiss to William's injury. The tenderness of her gesture had caused his smile to fade, and he stared at her in awe.
They sat staring affectionately until they heard the driver clear his throat and cough. With the spell broken, Eliza also cleared her throat. His kiss had affected her, and her gesture had enamoured him. She returned to her seat and put her gloves back on. While she did so, William debarked from the carriage and held the door for her.
Eliza reached for his hand and stepped into the misty, damp air. She stood on the wet cobblestones, holding his hand firmly and gazing up at him with deep affection. The street lamp behind William cast light on Eliza's flushed face, highlighting her green eyes. The warmth he could see in them kept the night's chill from invading his coat. He returned her gaze with equal intensity, conveying his desires and his internal struggle with them.
Eliza hesitated to speak; she knew the evening would be over as soon as she did. But standing in front of her house holding the Inspector's hand much longer would draw the attention of any nosy neighbours, and Eliza had more than one. She reached up and pushed back a stray curl on William's forehead. "Put some tonic on that bruise," she said tenderly.
William nodded and blinked slowly. "Good night, Eliza," he said, kissing her fingertips and reluctantly letting go of her hand.
Eliza smiled contentedly. "Good night, William," she breathed and turned to walk up to her steps as he re-entered the carriage. She turned back to him once reaching her door, his face in the carriage window watching her. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he sounded to alert the driver to move on.
Eliza watched the carriage pull away, the aching in her feet all but forgotten. She placed her fingers over smiling lips. Opening her door to go inside, she realized she'd had the most wonderful time…