Kanna-sama: This is just a brief story that I felt like writing. Please read below and enjoy.

X

Title: Without consent

Rating: M for mature content

Genre: Romance/Drama

Summary: She was given to him as a gift, a young girl with no family ties. He didn’t want her at first, but then things became different as their dull, lifeless relationship turned into something more. One shot.

Notes/Warnings: Sexual content; language; set in regency England

X

Without consent

The trade that took place in England, and most of Europe at that time, dealt mostly with women. In Asia, if one wasn’t careful in that foreign land, one would be shipped off to an entirely different area, sold to an owner as a slave. It didn’t matter what one’s social status was, whether one was white or black, or how young or old one was. The similar trade occurred in Europe, but most prominently in England and France. They sold young, lovely orphans from one place to another, all which were women. Men were rarely taken into this particular trade.

Emille, a white-blond haired girl of fifteen, had been carefully sheltered in the convent with the nuns. However, she, as many girls, ended up being snatched out the security of her life. While at the market, a man had grabbed her and dragged her into a carriage. She was knocked out in the carriage and then taken to the rich apartments that served as the “shop” for the young girls. Once she had woken up, Emille had been torn of her clothes and shoved into a simple white dress that was more like a peasant’s. Afterward, a man tied her hair up and bound her, throwing her in a room that was windowless and guarded by two burly men. She was doomed.

For two years, Emille had remained untouched and virtually ignored in this horrible “store.” At last, the time had come for her, like so many, to be chosen.

In the middle of March, an elderly nobleman strolled through the doors to examine the girls. Emille sat huddled in a chair, her eyes halfway closed. She had come to realize that playing the meek, almost demented, girl worked the best. However, unlike the rest of the people that came by and their eyes merely passed over her, this man’s eyes locked on her and she could feel the intense power of his gaze. Emille hesitantly raised her eyes and their gazes met. She shivered, turning away, wrapping her arms around herself securely as he approached her. He lifted her chin and met her cerulean eyes. He smiled.

“She will do beautifully,” the elder told the man who had come to make the deal. The man, whose name no one knew, raised an eyebrow in skepticism. Ever since Emille had arrived here, she hadn’t uttered a word, not even when they beat her or threatened to kill her.

“Are yeh certain, milord?” The male grumbled, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, a frown on his lips. “She’s been ’ere for two years and no one has chosen her before. She don’t speak, either.”

“She has no need to,” the latter dismissed, waving a hand. “She’s not being bought for idle chatter. My doctor friend doesn’t care for talking, anyway. Besides, who needs words in the bedroom?” Emille’s blood ran cold at the implication. The dealer sighed and looked at Emille, his brow furrowing slightly as though he were still reluctant to give his customer what everyone believed was a mute girl.

“I suppose...if yeh really want her...” He muttered.

“I do. Now, let’s close the deal, shall we? How much do you want her for?”

“Five hundred pounds.” The nobleman scowled at him, obviously finding the price ridiculous.

“Greedy little bastards...” He whispered under his breath irritably, taking out a small velvet bag and handing it over to the male. The dealer weighed it in his hands, a smile flitting over his lips.

“Nice doin’ business with yeh, milord.” The nobleman nodded in answer, his good mood apparently fouled. He grabbed Emille by the arm and toted her out of the building. Emille blinked as they stepped outside. She shivered as her bare feet hit the cold ground. Light streamed over her and she smiled slightly to herself. It had been so long since she’d been outside in the cool, crisp air. The nobleman shoved her into his carriage and got in after her. His driver snapped the door shut and as soon as the nobleman tapped the top of the carriage, it jolted forward.

“We’ll get you cleaned up so you’ll be presentable to Doctor Reigal,” the nobleman told her, frowning to himself. “I didn’t buy you for myself, you know. The doctor, however, is lonely and doesn’t indulge in the beauty of a woman’s company often enough and I think it would be nice to get him a companion.” He flicked a look at her, continuing, “I hate going to illegal places such as that. It’s distasteful. You should be thanking me, really, for saving you. Don’t try to so much as think of escaping, either. I’m a Duke, you know and I’d have the Runners on you before you could say, ‘Versailles.’”

Emille didn’t respond to his long lecture, merely staring at him the entire time. The elderly man’s face drooped a bit and he sighed, leaning back in the seat, saying, “I was hoping you might say something. I assumed that the men there were what caused you to not speak.” He glanced at her remorsefully. “Perhaps he was right. Perhaps I should have gotten another girl. Though, you were the prettiest there. The doctor will like your hair. It’s very becoming.” Emille continued to stare at him, before turning her head from him, not wanting him to see the flattered blush that had seeped onto her pale cheeks. “Well. At any rate, we’ll get you all ready for Doctor Reigal.” She remained silent, gazing out the window thoughtfully.

I’m finally leaving that wretched place. Her heart dropped. But I’ll still be kept hostage. She blinked as a white substance began to float from the heavens. It had been so long since she had seen snow she had almost forgotten what it looked like. Snow in March... She smiled to herself, lightened a bit by the appearance of the snow.

When they arrived at the nobleman’s large manor, he sent her up to a bath and the maids got rid of her white, used dress and scrubbed every inch of her body. She was petite for her age, and was pale from not being in the sun for such a long time. After she was bathed, the maids helped her into an elegant blue and white dress that had a large ribbon in the back that flowed almost to the ground. They then set her down and did her hair up in a hairdo that left her chin-length bangs down and curling against her cheeks. They had curled some of her hair and the curls hung from the bun they had put the rest of her hair in. They then gave her soft, white slippers and a simple silver necklace with a sapphire, glass rose on it.

“Excellent,” the nobleman cheered, beaming at her when the two maids brought her down to his drawing room. “You look darling! Ah...I will need you to tell me your name.” She stared at him, and then looked around before her eyes landed on paper. She moved to it and took the quill, dipping it in ink and then writing her name with graceful curves. She returned to him and handed him the paper. He blinked, staring at her, outsmarted, before taking it and reading it aloud, “ ‘Emille.’ ” He raised his eyes to hers. “Is that right?” She turned from him disinterestedly and he sighed, setting the paper aside. “Let us go, then, Emille. The doctor will like you, I think.”

X

Doctor Gideon Reigal frowned when his butler entered, one of his gray eyebrows raised in question. Most assumed that doctors weren’t paid much, but Gideon was no mere doctor. He worked specially for the upper classes – the nobility, clergy, and even the royal family. It was thanks to this that he could live so comfortably. He did not, however, like the idea of servants in his house so kept only his butler, Thomas, a cook, a stableman, and a maid came twice a week to clean the house. And, when Thomas raised his eyebrow, something was up. “His lordship, the Duke of Canterbury, and his guest...” He turned from Gideon and heard a murmur. “And his guest, Emille.” Gideon’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as his long-time friend, Dodson of Canterbury, entered with a young, pretty girl just behind him. Dodson pointed to a chair and the girl sat, her face completely devoid of any emotion. Dodson remained standing, smiling. “Shall I bring refreshments, my lord?” Thomas asked, his gaze going to Emille for the briefest moment. The doctor opened his mouth, but Dodson beat him to it.

“That won’t be necessary, Thomas,” Dodson assured. “I won’t be here for long.” Thomas nodded slowly, bowing and letting himself out.

“What is the meaning of this?” Gideon grumbled, lifting his handsome glasses to rub his eyes. “I am not in the mood for frivolities today, Dodson, you old man.” Dodson laughed boyishly and the girl shifted uncomfortably, startled by his laughter.

“No, no, of course not, Gideon, my boy. I have brought you a gift.”

“Well, let’s see it then.”

“But I have not told you what for.”

“A gift is a gift, so just give it to me.”

“Can I leave as soon as I do?”

“No.”

“Oh...Well, she is the gift!” Dodson ushered at Emille, who looked from him to Gideon, as though she were watching a boring play. Her expression didn’t change one bit. It remained neutral, though the doctor’s face turned from shocked to furious.

“What the hell are you talking about, Dodson?!” He roared. “I will not take her as a gift!”

“You certainly will. I will, of course, finance her completely. She will be yours every night. She doesn’t speak, though. Well, she won’t speak more like.”

“I don’t want her!”

“I’ve already paid for her, doctor, and she is a fine lady, is she not?”

“That’s beside the point,” Gideon seethed. Dodson had done many extravagant things for him from since he was a boy to the present to thank him or just to show his favoring of him more prominently. He had been complaining of Gideon not indulging in the fun of prostitutes and loose women after his wife’s death (which wasn’t a regretful thing since Gideon and she despised each other.) Out of all the mad, lame-brained things for him to do, Gideon never suspected his friend to do this!

“You will take her,” Dodson said sternly. “I will be by next week to check in. Have a nice time, Gideon.” He curtly nodded to Emille and then stalked out of the room, leaving the house, shutting the door with a firm click. Emille had watched him leave with a dispassionate face. She then looked to Gideon, who had leapt to his feet to stop Dodson. He returned her gaze, glaring at her as though it were her fault. Her gaze drifted and she stood abruptly, moving over to the window, staring at the snowfall. He let out a string of curses, storming out of the room, yelling something at Thomas. Emille looked from the window as Thomas came in.

“The doctor has informed me to show you the rooms,” he informed her. “You may choose one.” Her brows furrowed in confusion and then she remembered that she was now the doctor’s property. She closed her eyes briefly, sighing through her nose, before approaching the butler, her head bowed demurely. He showed her up and showed her each room. Emille went over them once more with the butler following her. When she came to the room that was cloaked in azure tones, she pointed at it and looked at the butler. “This one?” He questioned. She nodded in reply. “Very well. Have you any belongings?” Emille frowned at him as though he were a fool. “Forget that question. I will tell the doctor what your choice is. I’m certain it will be no problem.” Emille watched as he left down the hall before she entered the room.

I thought I was supposed to sleep in the same room, but I guess the doctor doesn’t find me particularly appealing, she thought, running her fingers over the bureau. This room is very nice. I like it. She heard a sound and looked to the doorway to see the doctor frowning at her with narrowed eyes.

“So can you speak or not?” He demanded. She turned from him, looking at the bureau again, running her fingertips over the smooth oak. “Fine. Don’t talk. It matters not to me. You’ll only be staying until Dodson gets back. I don’t need a prostitute in my house.” She turned to him sharply and briskly stepped towards him. She shoved past him and paced up and down the corridor, before going downstairs. He followed her, his arms crossed over his chest. She finally found his study where paper and ink was located. She scribbled on the paper and shoved it in his face. It read, I am NOT a prostitute!! He snorted in answered and crumpled the paper up. “Can you play anything?” He asked, diverting the insult he had placed upon her. Her face cleared and she nodded, raising her fingers, miming playing the piano. He gestured to her and ushered her to a large room where a piano was sitting. “Play,” he ordered. She went to the piano, looking at it in admiration.

It’s been forever since I’ve played the piano. I hope I can still play. If not, he’ll really think that the man, Dodson, picked me up from the street. She sat on the bench, smoothing her skirts out. She raised her fingers, sliding them over the base keys. Her eyes moved over the keys, a thoughtful expression on her face. She glanced up as the doctor came to stand behind her, a cynical look in his eyes. She turned back to the keys, striking middle C as a test before her fingers began to move on their own on a complicated melody that she had been taught at the convent. She normally sang as well, but she didn’t want to talk to anyone. She wanted to be silent forever until she could return with the kind nuns that had cared for her since she was a child.

Alright, Gideon grumbled in his mind, so Dodson picked me up a girl that’s half-intelligent. That still doesn’t make me lose suspicion. He bought her for sex, not to play the damn piano and have philosophical conversations with. She won’t even talk, so that wouldn’t work either way. “Hm.” Gideon frowned at her as she turned to look at him, a slightly smug look on her face. “Very good,” was all he said as he turned and left the room. She returned to the piano, letting her fingers glide over the keys as she started on another song.

X

Gideon returned from one of his patients in the evening, when dinner was nearly finished. When he had left, the girl, Emille, had still been playing the piano. Now, it was silent. He turned to Thomas as his butler took his bag and coat, asking, “Where is the girl?”

“The girl?” Thomas repeated blankly. “She was wandering around the house earlier, but I haven’t seen her lately.” Gideon nodded mutely, moving around the house idly before stopping at his study. She was sitting on the floor, staring at a blank piece of paper, his quill in hand, the feather touching her chin. She looked puzzled, as though she had expected something to turn up on the paper.

“What are you doing?” He questioned, not in a harsh manner. She looked up, a startled expression on her face. She spread her hands out towards the paper as though it were obvious. “Yes, I can see the paper, but what are you doing with it?” She shrugged helplessly, as though he were the stupid one. He frowned and continued, “It’s almost time for dinner. Finish up with whatever you’re doing and...” He trailed off, blinking, seeing a stack of paper beside her, except it had writing on it. “What in God’s name have you been doing?” She looked at the stack of paper and gave him an exasperated look. “Oh, forget it, I don’t even want to know. Just finish up and get to the dining room.” She set the quill down and hurried after him, walking behind him.

“Good evening, doctor,” Cook greeted. He looked at Emille and tilted his head to the side curiously. “Good evening, my lady. Thomas told me that you had a guest, doctor.” Gideon sat at the head of the table, not replying, his face taut with irritation. “Well, anyway, please sit down, my lady.” She gave Cook a lost look.

“Up there,” Gideon told her, gesturing to the opposite end of the table. She hesitantly approached the other end of the table and settled into it. Cook dished her some food and she stared at it in surprise. Emille grabbed Cook’s hand and rested her cheek against it in thanks. Cook laughed, his plump face flushing in pleasure.

“Well, thank you, my lady!” She released his hand and turned to the food, daintily eating her food, even though she was famished. She didn’t want to shame herself anymore than she had with the incident in the study. The doctor had looked genuinely surprised at her writings.

After dinner, Emille collected the papers and put the other unused paper and quill exactly where it had been. She then headed up to bed and paused at the drawing room where the doctor was sitting, reading. He looked up and they stared at each other for a moment before she shrugged and continued up to her room to sleep. He frowned and returned to his book, wondering what that had been about.

Emille put the papers in a drawer in the desk in her room and then shut the door, going to the bed and slipping into the nightgown that had been put out for her. She lovingly set her other garments on a chair and slipped into bed, smiling to herself as she fell asleep. “Goodnight,” she whispered to herself, as she did every night when no one could hear her.

X

The next day, when Emille woke up, someone – most likely Thomas – had put out a light blue dress out for her. When she had managed to get into it and looked at herself in the mirror, she was pleased with the image. There was an underskirt to it that added onto the sleeves, covering her hands and covering her bosom. After fixing her hair into a half ponytail, she left downstairs. Thomas greeted her mildly, asking, “How do you like that dress?” She smiled at him and gently patted his arm to show that she liked it. “If it is the doctor you worry that will hear you, you needn’t worry. He’s out.” She blinked. “I wouldn’t tell if you spoke.” Emille turned from him, frowning to herself.

I’m starting a new life, she thought. Maybe if I talked, the doctor wouldn’t mind my presence here. Maybe I could stay as a guest and then... Her heart lifted suddenly. Then it really would be a new life!

“Come,” Thomas said, taking her silence negatively. “Cook will have something for you to eat.”

“...Thank you,” she said quietly. He blinked in surprise as she raised her eyes hesitantly. “I want to start anew.”

As though he had heard her thoughts, he told her seriously, “The doctor doesn’t like many people. This does not necessarily mean he will change his opinion of you. However, I have a feeling you are not one of those whores that hang in doorways.” She shook her head.

“I am not,” she murmured. He nodded and ushered for her to follow him in the kitchen. She didn’t speak anymore after that, her hopes of having a happy life dashed. Thomas acted nonchalant, as though he hadn’t been the one to break her hope. After her small breakfast, Emille went to the piano room and played it, almost mechanically, her mind on other manners. For hours she continued to play various songs, her eyes staring at the piano top before a clang of keys came to her ears. She jumped, snatching her fingers from the keys as though burned. She raised her surprised gaze up to Gideon’s. He frowned at her, noticing the slight quiver in her body.

“You wouldn’t answer me,” he informed her as an explanation. “Not that you ever do, but you normally look at me when I say something to you.” She blinked, uncomprehending. She lowered her face, staring at his polished shoes fixedly, clutching her hands to her chest. She swallowed and raised her gaze back to his. “Go upstairs and rest,” he commanded. She nodded mutely and fled from the room, bumping into Thomas on the way out.

If I can’t make a new life from here, then I’m going back to the convent! She told herself, moving to the doors. He won’t notice, nor care. She slipped out of the house, shivering as the wind blasted against her fragile frame. She peered into the darkness and saw that the wind was thrashing the snow in every direction. It looks like a blizzard. She pursed her lips and stepped into the snow that was almost knee deep. She clenched her eyes closed and stumbled through the thick substance, slipping and stumbling. She let out a cry as she tripped on her dress, falling into the snow, her whole body being covering with the icy substance. I won’t give up! She got to her feet only to be knocked down again, but this time by another body. She was lifted up, covered in warmth. Her head spun and she slumped against the other person, hearing a growl of frustration. “Thank you so much...” She whispered before drifting off to unconsciousness.

X

“Is she fine, my lord?” Thomas questioned as Gideon slammed the doors closed. He shook snow off him and Thomas took his cloak, a concerned expression on his face. Gideon had been standing at the window, brooding, when Thomas came in with a tray of coffee. He had seen a look of confusion, then alarm cross his employer’s features before he barreled out of the room, cursing. After peeking out the window and seeing the small figure of Emille’s, he, too, began to become a bit distressed. It was below freezing outside and she was only in a thin dress and slippers. And, as Thomas’s eyes rested on Emille’s limp form and her blue lips, he felt a cold shiver go down his spine. He didn’t like the idea of watching such a young girl die.

Gideon, on the other hand, wasn’t worried about her health. She was freezing, yes, but there wasn’t any frostbite yet and her pulse, though sluggish, was there. He was unnerved that, right before slumping in his arms, she had actually spoken to him. She didn’t have the voice of an uncultured woman that had been on the streets, spreading her legs for men. It was the kind of voice you heard from a girl selling flowers on the corner of a street and smiling cheerfully at the same time. For some reason, he didn’t like that.

X

Emille woke, seeing a blurry head in front of her. Gasping, believing she was going blind, she jerked up to a sitting position. She blinked quickly as her vision cleared, turning to see the doctor frowning at her. He had a stethoscope in his hands and she realized he had been listening to her heart when she’d woken up. “You’re awake,” he remarked, bringing the stethoscope out of his ears and setting it aside. “Are you still cold?” She shook her head. “Good.” He crossed his arms over his chest, pinning her with an accusing stare. She sunk back down. “I’ll be honest. I don’t care if you leave here. However, I do care if you die in the process. I don’t know what you were thinking, going out in that blizzard, but just be thankful I saw you out of the window.” He paused and continued, “Along with that, you might as well stop acting mute.” She looked at him in confusion. “You spoke to me before you fell unconscious. You thanked me, in fact.” Her eyes widened in surprise before she looked at herself.

I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore, she thought bitterly, her lashes lowering. Why not speak when I already have to him? “...Thank you again, then,” Emille quietly said. He stared at her impassively, not responding. “I want to leave.”

“There is still a blizzard,” he told her bluntly. She turned to him, noticing that his glasses were slightly crooked. She reached up and straightened them. His mouth tautened and he got to his feet. “Don’t do anything stupid. I won’t rescue you again.”

“Why is it,” she queried, “that you do not use me for the purpose in which I was bought?”

“Because I don’t take something like that without consent,” he answered sharply.

“Then will you let me leave when this blizzard is over?” He didn’t respond, opening the door and saying, “Rest,” before leaving her alone. She tried to get up, but her arms gave out and she collapsed on the bed, panting. I am ruined, she thought helplessly.

X

“My lord?” Thomas approached him, noticing the dark expression on his lord’s face. He knew that Gideon Reigal often had his black moods – his employer had had a hard life – but this was a different sort of black mood that he was uneasy about. Thomas felt thankful that his employer wasn’t prone to acts of violence. He had feeling that his head would be whopped off instantly. “How is the girl? Well?”

“Weak, but living,” his employer replied, pausing, glaring at Thomas. “First thing tomorrow, I want you to send a message to Dodson, demanding he come here immediately.”

“Sir, if I may...” His butler grimaced and continued, “The girl seems sincere. Whatever caused her to end up in such a place that the Duke could buy her from must have been purely from mistake. She seems far too elegant, too educated, and too...” He trailed off, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Pretty?” Gideon sneered wryly. Thomas frowned, but didn’t reply. “I understand your reasoning, Thomas, and after I speak to Dodson – and if he doesn’t take her back – I will speak to her of it. In the mean time, forget the girl and go to bed. Nothing else is to be done tonight. Good night.”

“Good night...”

X

Dodson drank his brandy, a pleasant expression on his old features. Gideon pierced him with a furious look, but he didn’t speak, afraid he might start yelling. He knew by the way Dodson sipped at his brandy and made light, useless conversation that the elderly fellow knew very well why he had been called here. It had hardly been two days since Dodson had last been here and Gideon supposed it was only natural for the latter to take his time in everything. When Dodson finished his brandy and cleared his throat, asking, “Yes?” politely, Gideon jumped for the opportunity to speak.

“The girl. Where did you get her?”

“Was she adequate?” Dodson queried in true interest, tilting his head to the side.

“Answer the question, Dodson,” Gideon coldly ordered. His friend lowered his eyes to his glass before setting it aside.

“Haven’t a clue, really,” he admitted honestly. “It was a place that sold orphan women, though. Why?”

“You don’t know her background, then?”

“Not at all. Why?”

“I don’t want her, Dodson. Take her back. Wherever she came from, take her back.” Dodson frowned at him.

“I told you, Gideon, that I am not going to take my gift from you. I’m better than that. What in the world has possessed you to hate that girl?”

“I simply do not want anything to do with her.”

“That’s too bad, because I bought her for you. Not me. Good day.” Gideon watched him leave with cold, cold eyes. He bit off a nasty curse, getting to his feet and stalking upstairs. He paused at her door and sighed, calming himself enough to knock lightly on the door and not break it down. He pushed it open and found Emille riffling through a book with an apparently disinterested look. She gave him a suspicious look as he closed the door behind him.

“Emille,” he greeted cordially. She inclined her head politely. “You seem to be stuck with me until I can figure something out for you.” She stared at him for a long time and dropped the book – almost on purpose, it seemed.

“The convent takes in countless numbers of woman and children every day,” Emille informed him, her expression light and devoid of any emotion so he couldn’t decide whether it was a good idea or not. “They would accept me.” He made a steeple with his fingers, surveying her carefully. A good physician had to know whether their patient was lying. Sometimes one’s lie could kill them. And as the doctor observed Emille through his glasses, he knew there was something she was hiding. The slight waver in her fingers, the small light of hope in her eyes – it made him wary.

“Why the convent?” He queried, sitting back arrogantly. “I could just sell you for a good price at a brothel.” Her eyes went wide with horror.

“Please, don’t! I’ve never – ” She froze and colored, falling silent. He blinked in surprise.

She’s a virgin! He thought in shock. “I want you to tell me everything about you, Emille, and trust me, I will know if you lie.” He glared at her in warning and she took a slow, shuddering breath. He could tell that she regretted ever opening her mouth. “Now,” he ordered.

“...I was born into a noble family, as you can guess,” she slowly told him. “My parents were a count and countess, but they were killed in a carriage accident. I had no relatives that could take me in, so I was sent to the convent when I was six.” She hesitated and continued, “I was there for nine years and then was kidnapped by a man. He took me to some place where women were sold. I became mute to be unfavorable to the customers. For two years, I was locked in that place and then Mr. – Dodson? – came and bought me. You know the events after that.” The doctor wasn’t looking at her, peering out the window. He finally turned his attention to her.

“Is that why you wish to return to the convent?”

“Yes.” He looked thoughtful, before snorting to himself.

“Unfortunately, as Dodson repeatedly reminds me, he gave you to me a gift and therefore you are now my responsibility. With that in mind, I cannot give you up to the convent. You shall stay here, Emille, as my guest. You will help me in my work to earn your stay here.” Her face lit up a bit.

“I am...not a prisoner?”

“You never were,” was his cool reply. He got to his feet and said with that same indifference that he had always shown to her, “I will send something up to eat for you.” She watched him leave, the door clicking shut behind her. She lowered her eyes to the book that she had dropped and leaned over the bed, picking it up, her blonde braid flopping over her shoulder. She set the book in her lap and opened it to the first page, beginning to read, pausing every once in a while to stare at the wall, absorbed in some kind of thought that the words in the book had inspired.

“Your dinner, miss,” Thomas’s voice broke through her thoughts and she blinked, turning to look at him. Emille then glanced down at the book and almost sighed, seeing that she was only on page twenty on the book. She could hardly remember what had been going on. She closed the book and gave a small smile to Thomas, who set up a tray in her bed, placing her dinner on it. “The doctor wants you to eat it all. What would you like to drink?”

“I...don’t know,” she replied, staring up at him in curiosity. Emille was unused to such nice treatment and though she was thankful for it, she was hesitant in becoming too accustomed to the lavish food and home in which the doctor lived in. Thomas, however, merely raised an eyebrow at her puzzlement. She supposed the reason that Gideon had chosen Thomas as his butler was the lack of reaction that was received.

“...I’ll get you some mead, then,” the butler told her slowly, eyeing her almost suspiciously. “I’ll be back in a moment.” She nodded mutely and sat up straighter when he was gone, peering down at the roast chicken, strawberry tart, bread, and mushroom soup. She hesitated, then picked up her spoon and, remembering her etiquette class when she was a child, began eating her soup, not making a sound in her eating. Thomas returned briefly to give her a glass of mead.

After she had finished her supper, she set it aside and only a few moments later, Thomas came in and collected the things while she sat in bed, staring at her book with a slight smile on her lips. He frowned, wondering what could be so funny about her book, but he didn’t say a thing, leaving her be.

X

“How is our guest?” Gideon queried of his butler as the latter took his medicine case, card case, and frock coat. “Any better?” Thomas didn’t answer immediately, carefully setting his burdens in the closet. He closed the door quietly and turned to his employer with a frown on his lips. “What did she do?”

“She’s on her feet. She’s been in the drawing room the whole day, scribbling away at paper,” his butler answered him neutrally, though there was apparent irritation and disapproval in his eyes. Gideon eyed him, and then gave a slow nod.

“I’ll go see her, then,” he said, leaving him to the drawing room. Emille had papers lined up on the rug in front of her like cards. She was dressed in a flattering white dress and her hair lay on her shoulders, pushed back with a blue ribbon in her hair. Like an elegant child, she was seated on the divan, her legs curled beneath her. “Emille.” She looked up from the paper she was writing on.

“Welcome home,” she said lightly. “The ink had to dry,” she explained at his glance towards the papers before her. “I will clean them up, do not worry.”

“I am not the one who worries. Thomas acted as though you wrecked havoc on him.” He eyed her. Emille’s expression was shuttered, like it was so often. He didn’t like it. He had learned, though, that those pale eyes of hers were what could tell him so much. But she kept shifting them nervously. He was beginning to think that she had wrecked havoc on his butler. “What did you do?”

“We had a disagreement about theological matters,” she answered evasively, setting the tablet on her lap aside and getting to her feet with the grace of a true lady. She knelt down and gathered the papers in three quick scoops of her hands. She collected them and straightened them, setting them next to the tablet. “And he didn’t like that I was helping Cook in the kitchen.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he told her frostily. “Cook is paid for that.”

“But I have nothing to do. Everything I do seems to annoy him.” Her brow furrowed and he was beginning to see how inexperienced she was. He hadn’t been too aware of how young she was, but as he stepped up next to her and she had to tip her head back to make eye contact, she looked unnaturally young. “My fingers hurt after I play the piano too much and I only know a few songs by heart, so it makes Thomas mad. He tells me I can’t be in the library without your permission, so I cannot read. He won’t let me indulge in any service for your kindness and he gets irritated when I write and put the papers on the ground to dry.” Gideon’s mouth tautened, understanding her predicament. There really was nothing for her to do.

“Hm. Alright. I’ll inform Thomas you can use the library. I’ll also let you go out into town – but only for two hours. Am I clear? If you stay out later, I’m only going to say there will be hell to pay.” He paused and then added, “Actually, I’ll have Thomas go with you.”

“He doesn’t like me,” Emille pointed out to him. She frowned suddenly and reached up and fixed his cravat. “Thomas won’t like the idea of being out with me for two hours.” He glanced at his cravat, but she seemed to think nothing of it.

“He’s going with you or you don’t go out at all.”

“What if I stay on the estate?”

“Alright. But if you go into town, Thomas has to go with you. I won’t have you getting stolen and sold into a brothel while you’re under my wing.”

“Yes, sir,” she answered respectfully.

“And there are music books lying around in the library that you can use,” he added. She eyed him, her eyes wary, before a reluctant smile broke out on her lips. It transformed her features, brightening them significantly.

“Thank you.” He nodded mutely and left her to inform Thomas of the changes.

X

About a month passed from when Gideon had that conversation with Emille. Her sullen attitude turned more jovial and she seemed at home with her surroundings. Thomas had grown accustomed to her, too, so he didn’t have a sour face when Gideon returned from his practice. The doctor himself had become less rude towards Emille, who he discovered (after he’d coaxed her into careful conversations) was actually an intellectual at heart. He respected a woman that could have the manners of a lady, but not be a twitter-brained idiot. She was less the suspicious woman and had tentatively began to follow Thomas to the door when he arrived, giving him a small smile. It was a good change.

“Do you suppose there is much poverty around, Thomas?” Emille asked on one of their walks into town, looking around her with curiosity. “The nuns at the convent always had me doing charity work for the poor. There were so many of them, too.” The butler frowned, glancing at her. The weather hadn’t become too warm, so it was still rather cold out and if there was one thing he hated, it was the cold of winter.

“I couldn’t say, miss,” he replied tonelessly. “Why?”

“I was just curious, that’s all.” He paused, rubbing his arms as she went across the street. He moved forward, but a wagon slowly pushed in front of him, carriages following after. He cursed and stood, glaring at the carriages, slowed by the wagon. Eventually, they passed and he was able to jog across the street. Dismay settled into his normally stoic features as his eyes darted around. Emille was nowhere to be found. He couldn’t find her bright white cloak among the dark cloaks.

She mustn’t have noticed my absence, he thought. It was unsurprising since he rarely spoke unless addressed by her. But if she had, then she would have waited for me. She has no desire to get kidnapped again or to leave. At least, I was under the impression so. “Miss Emille!” He called, turning to look around, frantic. The doctor will have my head!

“Thomas!” A strangled cry came and he turned to see a man dragging Emille by the arm towards a hackney. “Thomas!” He raced through the crowds to get to her, but another got to her.

“If you’ll please,” Doctor Reigal said coldly to the man, his hand latched onto Emille’s arm. The man stared at him in surprise. “Unhand my ward.” The hoodlum instantly released Emille at the glare shot to him. Thomas hurried forward, looking at Emille’s disgruntled appearance and the fury flashing in his employer’s eyes.

“’Course, gov’nor,” the man grunted, stepping into the hackney, a clearly sulky expression on his face. He snapped the door shut and the hackney pulled forward, away from the three. Others were casting curious looks towards them, which were ignored.

“My apologies, sir,” Thomas said quietly as Gideon peered down at Emille, who was fixing her cloak with shaking fingers, her complexion paler than usual. “It is my fault Miss Emille was attacked.”

“I know it was your fault, Thomas,” he briskly snapped at him. “I told you to keep an eye on her and make sure nothing happened to her.”

“...I know. I apologize.” The doctor just heaved a sigh and looked at Emille, whose fingers were curled around her cloak, her head bowed. “Miss Emille?” He looked to her worriedly. “Did he...?”

“She’s merely frightened,” Gideon intercepted sharply, taking her arm and shoving her towards his carriage, which was some ways away. “Get in, Thomas. We will discuss this at home.” Thomas felt his heart drop.

“Yes, sir.” Gideon handed Emille in so she was safely encased between the two men. She clung to herself the entire ride home, her head bowed, her small frame trembling. She could never understand why men were constantly trying to hurt her. She had done nothing. There was nothing significant about her (at least that was how she felt.) “Doctor? May I question as to why you were not at your practice?”

“I had no other appointments for the day, so I was heading home early when I saw that.” The disgust was clear in his voice and his butler winced. He knew how Gideon felt about someone under his protection nearly getting mauled. That was simply how he was.

They arrived at the manor and Gideon stepped out, swinging Emille out, noticing that the small bit of color she possessed had not come back. Thomas gave instructions to the coachmen and then followed his employer and Emille into the manor, shutting the door behind him. Gideon waved Thomas away and led Emille into his study, where he sat her down by the fire. He crossed his arms over his chest, noticing the way her lips trembled. “Emille, talk to me,” he ordered, frowning at the way she jerked at the sound of his voice.

“...It’s always me, isn’t it?” She quietly said, hugging herself more securely, pursing her lips. “I am always the one getting stolen, forced into hackneys and dragged off to some unknown place. It was like that last time. I was with another orphan my age, but they didn’t take her, just me. It’s always me...”

“Is that what’s bothering you?” He queried, feeling himself relax a bit. So he hadn’t done anything to her like he and Thomas had feared. That was a good thing, at least.

“No. I’m afraid that when I finally go in the world by myself that as soon as I step foot into it, I’ll be whisked away to some dark place by a stranger.” Tears pooled in her eyes and the image of the fire became blurred. Her voice was unsteady, but she continued, “And I’ll never have a real life and...” She covered her mouth, smothering her sobs and hiccups, tears dripping down her cheeks and on her hand. Her eyes clenched together to stop the tears, but they continued nonetheless.

“I told you, Emille, that you were to stay here until I could figure something out for you,” he stated more gently than he normally would. “You can be assured that when I find that something for you, you will be quite safe.” She shook her head in answer and he frowned slightly, not understanding why she was shaking her head. He knelt next to her and he took her hand from her mouth, making her blink open her eyes, tears continuing to flow down in rivulets. He sighed and pulled her down beside him, pushing her face in his shoulder. She sniffed and nestled against him, her body still shaking with silent tears. He slumped on the carpet, bringing her petite body in his lap, holding her to him protectively.

Eventually, the tears stopped and she sat there, exhausted by the crying. She turned her face so her cheek rested on his shoulder and he glanced down to her. He raised a hand and wiped her tearstained face. “Well?” He queried. “Have you cried it all out?”

“Yes...” She sniffed lightly. “Thank you.”

“Hmm.”

“For everything today. You saved me from a wretched life.”

“Hmm.” He lifted himself up and then helped her to her feet, brushing her hair from her face. “Go to bed and rest. You are weary.” She nodded and started towards the door, then paused, turning back to him. He saw hesitation on her face and then she drew close, her head bowed. Then she raised it and leaned up, brushing her mouth over his.

“Thank you again.” She rushed out of the room and he blinked at her departure. His lips tingled from the brief contact of hers. Scowling at himself, he rubbed his face and went to his desk, slumping in his chair wearily. He was getting too involved with this girl and he knew it. She was gorgeous, there was no doubt of that. She was completely innocent, but because the torture she’d been put through, she was wary of the world.

Which is the exact reason why I must remind myself not to think of her in any manner than that she is my ward, he told himself in a chastising fashion. Though, when she had been settled in his lap, he hadn’t been thinking of her as his ward. Far from it. True, in the past, that was all she had been to him. In that moment, though, he was more aware of her as a female with every luscious curve a woman possessed. With every soft, intoxicating scent that a woman had. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, reveling in it, but now he knew that it was dangerous land to tread on. And I will not indulge myself in her! He angrily thought. A little voice in his head said, Not without her consent, anyway. He ignored it and forced himself to focus on the paperwork before him. He had more important things than women to deal with.

X

Thomas settled beside Emille, pouring them some tea, spooning in two cubes of sugar for them both. Even with the estate surrounding them and the thick walls of the manor, they could hear the roar of the riot in the town. Shuddering, Emille’s cup rattled on the saucer as she lifted it to her lips, taking a careful drink. The past two weeks had been strained on her part. She had fallen back to silence, talking rarely. The doctor did nothing to cure her sudden lapse in sociality. The constant hostility erupting in town by the middle class and peasants contributed greatly to Emille’s already sensitive spirit.

“Why do they do it, Thomas?” She asked, letting her cup clatter on her saucer, her hands shaking violently. “So much screaming, day after day... Do you suppose Gideon will be fine? He always seems so moody and tired when he comes home...” He blinked, his mouth hidden behind his cup. He lowered it and parted his lips, uncertain of how to respond to that. She was not unsettled because of her own experiences, but because she was worried for the doctor.

“The doctor is not on either side,” he cautiously explained. “There is to be no reason for him to be harmed. You needn’t worry for him.” She looked away, a worried expression crossing her face. “Trust me, Emille. Gideon is not likely to be hurt. He is always a very cautious man, as you may have noticed.” She bobbed her head, an uneasy feeling burrowing in the pit of her stomach.

X

Gideon raised an eyebrow mildly at the man before him with his solemn face and sweating forehead. “I see.”

“You must understand, Doctor Reigal, that if you cannot choose a side, then I will have to nullify your practice. All doctors have been offered this choice.” He grimaced and glanced away quickly, flipping his handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing at his brow worriedly. The riots were growing more violent and numbers were growing on the opposing side. Gideon had expected it for some time now and had been prepared to allow his practice to be nullified. He could no longer keep Emille safe in the city, not with so many people ransacking people’s homes and beating those within it. Not even the servants, in the same social class as the rioters, could escape their madness.

“But I am the only one who has refused it,” Gideon concluded.

“Yes.” Marcus Ledger, one of Gideon’s friends that had risen in the social scale, looked as though the last thing he wanted to do was cause trouble for his friend. “Please, Gideon, understand that I am in a bad position. If there was any other way...If you would only...”

“No, this works well for me, Marcus. If you planned on ignoring my obvious disobedience, I would have left on my own.” The latter stared at him in surprise, his dark eyes widening. Although a heavy-set male and one of the most ingenious doctors around, Marcus was simple-minded and refused to follow his own doctrines that he preached. Hence, his unhealthiness. “My ward,” he reminded him subtly. Marcus continued to gawk at him before giving his head a violent shake, his jowls shaking.

“Of course, your ward. The pretty little doll you’re hiding. Well...Yes, yes, you are a wealthy man. Whether you are neutral or not, they would still attack you. Yes...It is a good thing you are leaving town, my friend. I am, unfortunately, the Commissioner of the Health Department, so naturally I cannot.” His mouth tilted bitterly. “Such as it is, I hope that you and your ward remain safe.”

“As well as you,” Gideon responded quietly.

After a few more pleasantries with the other doctors, most of whom were as reluctant as Marcus to remain amidst such hostile groups, Gideon exited the looming, grey building and allowed himself to move down the quiet streets towards where his carriage waited for him. He paused a few feet from it as a few men stepped from it, something limp held in their arms. Calmly, he watched as his coachman’s corpse was thrown to his feet. He felt his gut twist with rage and guilt: he had not taken the usual precautions to make certain his servant was safe. Shaking it off and meeting one of the men’s gaze mildly, he questioned, “What is the manner of this?”

“Yeh know just what ’tis, yeh bloody damned doctor. The whole lot of yeh are damned, sneaky – ”

“Oh, yes,” Gideon coldly answered, “how sneaky are we when we save lives.” The bulky man drew himself up. Gideon knew he could take his horses and flee, but it was a matter of getting the three idiots to move in order to get to the horses.

“We ain’t talkin’ about that, doctor. Yeh know that we’re talkin’ about yeh playing both sides! Sneaky, good-for-nothing...”

“Consider this: I don’t go around killing innocent people and servants simply because they are there.” The man stared at him, stunned, before lunging, roaring. The other two swept past his great mass of flesh, nimble on their feet as they started towards Gideon. Tensing, he slammed his elbow in one of the men’s faces and kicked the other in the ribs. Without waiting to watch the largest and slowest, he ran around the carriages and withdrawing his pistol, shot off the harnesses. His grey reared up, screaming, and bolted away from the carriage. Gunshots followed him, but pistols were deplorable when it came to long-range and so he remained safe.

Damned lunatics, he thought fiercely as he rode hard towards his manor. He was glad he had used his less valuable and spacious carriage that day or else it would have been an uncomfortable ride from town. It seems I will have to make the arrangements for departure much sooner than I anticipated.

He rode up to the manor, making certain the gates were secure behind him. He hopped off his grey and the servant grabbed it, looking puzzled. When he came to the doors, he paused, seeing a familiar face peering out of the window some feet from him. Emille disappeared a moment later and met him in the foyer. “Thomas, send a message out to Dodson,” he ordered as soon as the doors shut behind him. He shook him off as he attempted to take his coat.

“Mr. Dodson is not in town, sir.” He held up a message. “He has sent word via this letter that he has taken to the country. He wishes for you to join him.”

“Good,” was his short, curt answer. His eyes moved to Emille as Thomas took his coat, this time without protest. She seemed paler somehow and there was a look in her eyes that was nothing if not unpleasant. She hovered in the foyer for a moment before easing out, apparently needing to speak with him privately. He looked to Thomas in question, but the man purposely avoided his gaze, gliding away from him towards the kitchen. Gideon, receiving the more than subtle hint from the man, went to the den where Emille had returned. She sat huddled on the divan, her legs drawn up to her chest.

“You ran into trouble,” she stated in a flat tone, as though she had been there with him. “You returned with only your horse, so you were attacked and had to escape quickly.” Her arms tightened around her legs. “Please, Gideon, will you not go to the country as Mr. Dodson bade you? All this screaming and fighting...” She trailed off and then raised her eyes to his. For the first time, her expression revealed everything. “No one has really cared like you do. I couldn’t survive if you died.”

Steeling himself against the rush of warm emotions that attempted to overtake him, he said in his normal, neutral tone, “There is no need to worry over it. I intended to leave town as soon as my practice was nullified. As it happens, it has been today. The...incident...that happened today has only caused me to act more quickly than I had recently planned.” Emille nodding slowly and looked away, some of the tension in her easing away. Frowning, he queried softly, “Have you been worrying like this ever since the riots started?”

“...Yes.”

“Why?”

“I have told you – ”

“What have you told me, exactly? That I am your guardian and you depend on me? That I am your source of income?” His voice was caustic and he knew his accusations and the tone combined stung her. When it came to him, she was more easily hurt. He was uncomfortable with knowing he was her weakness, but the fact could not be ignored.

“You know that is not true,” she whispered, her face frozen in a stunned expression. “It has nothing to do with that. You...” She trailed off, hesitating.

“I what? For God’s sake, Emille, how can I possibly try to understand my own feelings when you won’t even tell me what yours are?” As soon as the words were out, his entire body tensed, realizing the volumes his sentence spoke. He had never intended on letting that escape his brain, had never intended on letting it be heard by her. She tended to unravel him, though, without even knowing it.

Emille gazed at him, confused, and then lowered her gaze, looking uncertain. “You make me feel safe, Gideon, and...” She struggled for a moment. “...I don’t think I would be much of a person without you. You have made me what I am. Even when I think I might feel sure enough to enter the world, I don’t think I could. I want to...stay with you.” It was as hard for her as it was for him to say the words. Feelings were not something she was accustomed to. The soft kindness of the nuns was all she was used to until the darker part of her life turned into existence. “Gideon?” She murmured when he didn’t speak. He stared at her, a brooding expression covering his face.

“I promised myself,” he said with deliberate slowness, “that I would never, ever become involved with you when you stepped into my drawing room. I knew that you would change everything in my life and it seems that, for once, I was right when I made an assumption about a woman. I usually am not.” She dug her fingers in her legs, trying to make sense of the foreign expression in his eyes. He approached her and settled on the divan beside her. She uncurled her legs and crawled to him. Instantly his arms wound about her, pushing her against him.

Such warmth, she thought, closing her eyes, slipping her arms around his waist, her hands pressed against his strong back. I want to make sense of things and be good to him, but I have nothing to offer. I am an orphan. He is virtually all I have besides the nuns, who are probably dead now... “Gideon...?”

“Mm?”

She drew back and brushed her fingertips over his cheek, saying, “Kiss me.” His gaze passed over her face briefly and then he leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers, covering it, engulfing her in a wind of emotions. Her naïve soul and mind never suspected such soft passion in a mere kiss. She had never considered what kissing really meant. Now, her body, so unused to these strange cravings and emotions, fired up, the flames licking at her senses. His hands, so large and firm, settled at her waist and pulled her closer and closer, never once pausing in his gradual seduction. She fell into the abyss that had opened up for her, responding to the kiss cautiously, but enthusiastically. She could feel his mouth curve against hers and her heart skipped once, pleased by his slight amusement.

Yes... She decided, falling further and further into the depths of an emotion she had always feared since her parents died. This is what I needed...He is everything to me now.

Finis

X

Kanna-sama: I realize I ended it rather poorly, but it’s been sitting like this for quite a few months and when I looked back, I realized there wasn’t much else to add to it. Please leave a review, telling me how you liked it; constructive criticism is embraced. Ciaos!