Romance Novel (Untitled)

Chapter One (V1) - DO NOT USE

         Susannah was charmed that he was actually fumbling for the right words. They both knew why they were here, why they had both eluded company and chaperone to be alone. These dark trees in this warm moonlight was another land, another world, away from the Manor House that would soon be full of clinking glasses and knowing smiles full of care and condescension (and was currently full of the much more watchful eyes of the house staff). That was why they were out here, alone, and they both knew what he was going to ask, and yet—he was tongue-tied!

         He moved into shadow, and she saw him tip his head back. Praying for guidance? She thought, but did not utter. He sputtered, coughed, and turned back round.

         “What I mean, is, Susannah,” he began confidently. “Well, you know what I mean…! “

         He seemed, she thought now, more agitated than nervous. He moved to the shadows, prayed, coughed.

         “Rupert,” Susannah said. “Come, sit with me. Gather your thoughts so that you may speak your mind to me. Or sit quiet with me and admire this wonderful night.” She spoke lovingly to him, softly.

         Instead of sitting, however, he snorted through his nose. “Sit for this wonderful night, eh? When I can’t seem to know—“ He broke off and turned to her, seeming to assess her, brow knitted. His thick brown hair had come loose on the side. He spoke thickly, through his set jaw, but quietly, as though to himself. “Are you coy? Will you answer me or tease me—for I couldn’t bear such…!”

         Shadow, cough, sputter.

         Susannah was done being confused and was rapidly becoming piqued. They did both know why they were out here. And she would settle for sitting quietly with him with nothing being said. But this muttering and retreating was…insulting! She opened her mouth to put voice to these thoughts just as Rupert plunged to his knee before her.

         “Susannah,” he all but blurted. “I want you for my wife, and I—well, that is…” He was pushing the words out too fast and stumbling over them. He took a breath, and squared his shoulders. Brows still tense, as though concentrating on what he was trying to say, Rupert spoke slowly and precisely. “Susannah. Will you do me the honor of giving you my hand in marriage?”

         He was so studious about it she almost chuckled, but knew instinctively his feelings would be hurt. But he had tried so hard and still gotten the words out of order. So when she spoke, her sincere answer came out with a giggle.

         “Of course, I accept,” she said.

         His face darkened, even in the moonlight, and moved closer to her. “Why do you mock me? Why do you laugh?”

         She smelled the liquor then on his breath and understood that the shadows had covered the silver flask he carried.

         “Rupert! Are you drunk?”

         “Nerves,” he said dismissively. Then he repeated: “Why did you laugh?”

         “Rupert,” she said, regretting that they had come away, understanding that the liquor had spoiled something. “I am not laughing at you. I love you. I consider myself the luckiest girl in Southampton. I suppose I am nervous, too. I am sorry, love.”

         She reached out to him, and he softened some; she pulled him to her and they kissed, as they could not have done in the Manor House at a formal proposal.

         His lips were soft and wet, thrilling with the taste of the liquor. He was passionate at first, but became insistent. His hands moved from her arms to her waist, his mouth moved to her neck. Susannah put her hands on his shoulders and gently pushed.

         “Rupert,” she whispered. “You mustn’t!”

         “I cannot help myself, my wife!” His voice was muffled by her collar as he kissed lower on her neck.

         “We are not wed yet,” she hissed, pushing more insistently on his shoulders. “And this is not the place for such behavior in any case!” He did not budge.

         Instead, he answered devilishly: “You’re right!” And raising his head, he lifted her from the sitting bench by her waist and pulled her into the shadows. “The shadows are the place for lovers!”

         He kissed her, and his hands moved up her sides, in toward her belly, up, up…

         Susannah knew they must stop, but was getting as lost in the moment and the feeling as Rupert was. “You must stop, Rupert,” she giggled. “This—“

         His hands moved suddenly to her arms and tightened. “You laugh!” he hissed. “You don’t even know--!”

         In an instant, Susannah’s mood changed from excited to frightened. Rupert was snarling, his strong hands squeezing her arms. “Rupert…” she whispered. “You’re hurting me.”

         He snorted at her disgustedly, rolled his eyes away, and shook his head. “Rupert,” she started again, still in a pleading tone. He pushed her away and lurched back toward the light, turning back only when she said nothing in reply.

         But she was no longer there! He shook his head to clear it, blinking several times. Where…?

         She was on the ground, he saw. Her legs had tangled in the high roots of the trees, and when she stumbled, her head had hit one also. She was starting to move again, dazed; one stripe of moonlight turned her light-blue gown to silver, clinging to her legs and hips.

         He had to have her, here in the moonlight, now…! She was his wife for all intent now in any case. He pulled the flask from his coat and drank from it again, a long draught that left him gasping.

         She was beginning to sit up. He moved to her quickly, kneeling, pushing her back down. Kissing her, relishing her, wanting to ravish her. She was pushing against him, but she was to be his wife! She had said yes, and he would not let her go back on her word! She had said yes!

         His hands were on her, impatient, clumsy, kneading her breasts roughly. She was crying, but could not push him away. His lips were no longer enticing with liquor, but pungent: he reeked of the stuff, and she was nauseous with it. His kisses lacked passion and patience; his hands mauled her.

         She cried and pushed him with all her strength when he pulled at the front of her dress. She heard it rip clear down the front and was startled, and frightened, and furious.

         He was surprised by her strength, but it was not enough. His own anger came back stronger, and he slapped her face. “You are my woman!” he grunted through clenched teeth.

         Her head rocked back, and she stared at him without comprehension. What had he just done? In a matter of fifteen minutes he had proposed loving marriage, then thrown her to the ground, torn her clothing and struck her. What else…?

         She was no longer frightened; Susannah was in a full panic. She and Elizabeth had talked at length, and she had some idea what to expect in her wedding bed, and though there was fear of the unknown, there was the excitement of love. But this was not a bed, and this was not love, and this was anything but exciting. This was terrifying.

         She screamed then, screamed his name, and seemed to shatter the very night. The sound of her voice in the sleepy darkness was like unexpected thunder.

         “Shh!” he hissed. “Quiet!” He was shaking her, panicking himself, now, at the volume of her cry and the fear in it. A passing moment of clarity descended on him and he realized what he was doing. As she began crying again, his fear at this scene took him, and shook her harder, hissing, “Shh! Susannah, quiet!”

         He rocked her shoulders so violently, her head struck the root again, with much more force this time. And for Susannah Claverly, a total blackness like a stale blanket brought the night to a dull, numb end.

         But the night was far from over for Rupert Thomas. Susannah went limp in his arms. He touched her head where she had struck the root, and his hand came away dark and sticky. The instant of reason passed, and Rupert was once again consumed by fear and panic and liquor.

         Susannah was dead; he had killed her. Asked her to be his wife, and killed her! And in less than an hour, the Manor House would be full of people eager to watch their formal marriage proposal!