Wrecked Page 8

  William Sherton was a man with great influence, power and loads of money, and he never let anyone forget it. He had emphatically refused to allow Elizabeth to marry any man that he deemed unworthy. And Andrew had been placed in that category from the first moment he’d stepped into the Sherton home in Kent, England, nearly six years before.

  As a young man with no fortune of his own, and no distant relative likely to leave him one, Andrew was not remotely good enough for Elizabeth and never, ever would be. But Elizabeth, Lizzie, as Andrew called her, fell in love with him anyway, and he with her. They both knew without doubt that they were destined to be together forever and they promised each other that they would wait as long as they had to in order to be together. Andrew proposed and Lizzie immediately accepted, although nobody but them knew of their secret engagement.

  When the opportunity presented itself for Andrew to find his fortune at sea, buying a commission in the Navy, he took it without hesitation, knowing that he would return for his love in a few short years. He was eager and excited to make himself into a man that William Sherton could, and would not deny marriage to his daughter, and thus they would be wed immediately upon his return and begin their life together.

  But the eagerness dissipated quickly when his last day in England arrived and he would have to say goodbye to his lovely Elizabeth. How he would manage to be without her for the years to come was beyond comprehension. She felt the same way as she clung to him and sobbed, knowing he would be gone in just a matter of hours.

  “How will I survive without you?” she sputtered.

  “Oh, my love. It won’t be that bad. And know that I will be thinking of you every hour of every day.”

  Lizzie pulled a locket from the ribbon tied around her waist and handed it to Andrew. “For you… to remember me.”

  “I don’t need anything to help me remember,” he smiled. “You are forever here,” he said as he placed his hand over his heart. Then, he opened the locket to find a lock of Lizzie’s silken hair. “Thank you.”

  “I will wait no matter how long it takes,” she declared.

  “I have something for you too.” Andrew pulled a small velvet pouch from his waistcoat pocket and handed it to his love. “It was my mother’s, the only possession she ever had that she treasured, or that was worth anything. It is the only thing she had when she died,” he sobered.

  Lizzie opened the pouch and retrieved a strand of small delicate pearls on a pale pink ribbon. “Andrew!” she spoke reverently. “I can’t accept these. They are beautiful but they are all you have left of her.”

  “You must have them, please,” he pleaded. “It is all the wealth I have in this world and it is yours. It is my promise that I will make a man of myself and when I come for you I will be worthy of you.”

  His kiss was soft and gentle as his warm lips touched hers. Her response was impatient and greedy, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him close as she pressed her body against his. She swallowed his moan as his body responded swiftly, hardening with each beat of his heart.

  “Lizzie,” he gasped.

  “No,” she stopped him from saying anymore. “I will give you all I have to give and you will know that no other man will ever have me. Now, make me yours while we still have some time.” It was not a request but a demand, and Andrew had not the willpower to deny her, nor did he want to. He desired nothing more than to take her as his.

  He pulled the pins from her hair, letting the golden curls loose and cascading down her back, and untied the ribbons that held her dress on her shoulders, the satin falling to her waist, exposing her perfect pale breasts. His breath hitched as he gazed at her bare skin, and as his fingers grazed the sides of her firm round breasts, she gasped and he hardened more as he watched her rosy pink nipples peak with need.

  Lizzie arched her back and Andrew needed no more encouragement as he took one pebbled bud into his mouth, his hand holding the weighty flesh of her bosom and feeling her heavy breath on his cheek as her chest rose and fell under his deft tongue.

  “Andrew,” she moaned into his hair as her head fell forward, watching his lips kiss across her pale skin to the other nipple waiting for his lips to caress her more and more.

  Once all of her clothes had been removed, Andrew laid her on his dark blue woolen coat covering the thick green grass under the moonlight and kissed every inch of her body, leaving Lizzie arching and moaning with unbridled hunger for what was to come. Once he could wait no longer, knowing his restraint was hanging on by its last miniscule thread, Andrew stood over his beloved and removed his boots first, and then his clothing.

  Lizzie gasped at the sight of his nakedness and then smiled as she reached for him. “Please,” she begged. “Make me yours.”

  “You are mine,” Andrew growled as he lowered himself over her, propping himself up on his elbows. “You will always be mine and only mine.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I will always be yours.”

  Andrew entered her slowly, knowing it would hurt her for a moment, and once she had taken every inch of him, he stilled as Lizzie caught her breath.

  “Mine.”

  *****

  Andrew couldn’t stop the tears from falling from his cheeks as he stood over the only woman he would ever love. She slept soundly, wrapped in his coat, gloriously naked underneath, his mother’s string of pearls around her neck and green blades of grass twisted in her hair. He had loved her and made her his. She had given him the only things that mattered to her – her body and her love, and he would treasure her always. Committing her face to memory, he turned and walked away, not knowing how long it would be until he would see her again, his tears leaving a trail behind him as he walked to the stables, mounted his horse, and rode for London and the ship that would enable him to make his fortune so that one day he would be worthy of her.

  13.

  With no subtlety whatsoever, Ethan had arranged for Bess to get the perfect dress for their dinner date. A local vintage clothing store had some exquisite pieces, according to Regina, so Ethan had called the owner and confirmed that Saturday morning Regina would take Bess to the store before it opened to the public and choose whatever she wanted, at his expense, of course.

  As expected, Bess balked at his offer, which he ignored, much to her chagrin. Eventually, however, her anxiety about the date won over and she agreed to go. She was grateful he’d suggested she go with Regina as she needed a friend to help her decide what to wear. Bess had never been to a fancy dinner and she was desperately worried that she would somehow embarrass Ethan. At least Regina could help her dress in the appropriate attire and look the part, even if on the inside she was completely out of her element.

  Bess had watched the movie Pretty Woman and loved it. It was the fairytale all girls dreamed of. Well, not the whole prostitution thing, but the rich, handsome man and falling in love in just a few days and living happily ever after. There were actually a few moments after Bess left home that she’d been terrified that her situation was so desperate that prostitution may just end up being part of her life, as she had to earn money to pay rent somehow. Flipping burgers and emptying garbage cans paid only so much and landlords didn’t care where the rent money came from, just as long as it was paid on time. Julia Roberts made it look so easy. In real life, hooking was not glamorous, nor fun and exciting. Bess had known several girls who ended up on the streets. Rape, drug addiction and getting beaten up were just a few of the perks… perks that Bess wasn’t interested in. Yet, as Bess stood in the dressing room of Satin & Lace, she stared at herself in the mirror feeling just like Vivian Ward with Edward Lewis’s credit card. Prostitute or not, Vivian had ended up living the dream with her charming prince, and had looked fabulous doing it.

  There was truly something magical about trying on dresses that made Bess feel nothing short of a Disney princess. Clara, the owner of Satin & Lace, had picked out some amazing dresses for Bess to try on and Bess was sure that an actual princess must have had them
made because they were dazzling. The decades of the thirties and forties had gifted women with some of the most delicate and gorgeous fashion and Bess was enjoying the leftovers. Clara informed her that some of the dresses were, in fact, from that era, being carefully preserved for the modern-day woman to enjoy, although not many realized what they were missing.

  Regina and Bess drooled over many of the gowns that Clara had selected, and Bess tried most of them on, but once she found the one, it was all over. She stood in the small room outside the changing room and stared at her reflection in the multitude of mirrors that surrounded her. From every angle she was amazed at the way she looked and Regina could only gasp in delight.

  “It’s like it was made specifically for you,” Clara declared with joy.

  “Ethan isn’t gonna be able to take his eyes off you,” Regina whispered. “I mean, you are gorgeous without the dress, but wearing that? Damn!”

  “I’m taking it you like it?” Bess asked hesitantly.

  “Uh, yeah!”

  Clara fiddled with the long skirt, pulling it so it fell to the floor in soft flares and folds, making her look tall and elegant. “You’ll need shoes with about two inch heels,” she noted.

  “That works,” Regina replied. “Ethan is a good five to six inches taller than her.”

  “I don’t wear heels,” Bess worried.

  “Two inches aren’t heels,” Regina laughed. “They’re just heel lifts.”

  “Oh! I think I might just have the perfect pair. What size shoes do you wear?” Clara asked Bess.

  “Eight.”

  And Clara hurried off to find shoes to compliment the dress.

  “You seriously look amazing,” Regina said as she walked over to Bess. “If he hasn’t already, Ethan is gonna fall head over heels for you tonight.”

  “Pfft,” Bess huffed. “Ethan would never want a girl like me.”

  “You’re clueless, aren’t you?” Regina chuckled.

  “Here!” Clara interrupted as she shoved a pair of silver sandals into Bess’s hands.

  “Oh, man. They are cute,” Bess grinned. “I think I might even manage to stay upright in these.”

  Regina and Clara scoured the store and found a couple of perfect accessories to complete Bess’s ensemble, and once they were carefully wrapped and placed in her shopping bag, Bess was set for the evening with an outfit that truly made her feel beautiful. She couldn’t wait to get home and get ready for her date with Ethan.

  *****

  Ethan stood on the porch and adjusted his bowtie for the umpteenth time. He felt much more at ease in scrubs and tennis shoes, but he knew he looked good in his Armani tux. He just hoped like crazy that Bess would notice. He’d never really cared what a woman thought of him, but Bess was very different from other women. Talking a step forward, he wrapped his knuckles on the wooden door a couple of times and waited.

  When the door swung open, his breath was snatched from his lungs as he saw Bess standing before him. She was nothing short of stunning and his jaw dropped in response. The first thing he noticed was her eyes, dark and smoldering under thick black lashes and expertly applied makeup. Her lips were a pale mauve and glossy… so ready to be kissed properly.

  She wore a silvery satin gown that gathered at her waist with a belt and then fell to her feet that were adorned with silver sandals. Even her toenail color matched her lips. Ethan’s eyes rose back up to her face and golden hair, ringlets cascading down her back, begging him to run his fingers through the silky curls. She literally had stolen his breath… and his heart.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he whispered softly as he reached for her hand.

  “Thank you,” she blushed.

  “Are you ready to go?”

  Bess grabbed the silver clutch from the table next to the door and nodded with a deep breath.

  *****

  Andrew stood in the window watching Bess walk to the car with Ethan. She looked dazzling and he looked smitten. Andrew smiled. There was nothing quite like the feeling of new love blossoming. He remembered it well.

  Andrew had only ever been in love with one woman – his Elizabeth. From the moment he laid eyes on her he knew he would never love anyone else… and he hadn’t. She had been his one and only and he missed her terribly.

  Andrew watched the car back out of the driveway, turn onto the highway and disappear over the hill. There was something about Bess that had taken hold of him. He wanted to get to know her… to care for her… protect her. There was nothing romantic at all in his feelings but more of a concern for her well-being. In some ways it was very similar to the way he felt about little Andie.

  14.

  William Sherton, stern-faced as usual, whispered in Elizabeth’s ear and grabbed at her arm, trying to pull her in his direction. Andrew stepped forward to intercede. It was pointless he realized as his arm went straight through William’s, without the old man even flinching. Lizzie pulled her own arm away and told her father that she would meet him at his house after she dropped some biscuits off at old lady Brinkley’s house. William pleaded with her to come and when she refused once again, offered to take Andie with him, to which Lizzie eventually agreed.

  Andrew watched the young child eagerly accept the old man’s hand and skip happily alongside him along the dirt road and up the hill until they were no longer in his sight. He hurried to catch up to Lizzie who was quickly making her way to a small and poorly maintained wooden house, more of a shack really. It was just fifty yards or so off the main road and there were several chickens roaming free in the grass in front of the rickety old porch. He watched Lizzie empty her basket on the chair just inside the door and he smiled. That was his Lizzie – always caring for others. It was one of her many character traits that he loved. She was an extremely generous young lady, always very aware of her fortunate circumstances and knowing most were not nearly as lucky. She didn’t stay long with the frail woman, and then hurried back to the main road and up the hill, the same way her father had gone just a few minutes earlier.

  Andrew walked beside her, gutted that he couldn’t talk to her… or reach out and touch her pale soft cheek. He found himself crying tears of unparalleled despair, knowing that they would never be together… that the happy ever after they had both dreamed of… and waited years for… would never be. How cruel it was that he had made it to the new world and died just feet from her.

  Lizzie strode with purpose to a large home up on the hill above the town. It was an impressive sight and Andrew immediately knew that is was the Sherton home. He continued to follow Lizzie up the brick steps and to the front door. It magically opened and Andrew instantly recognized Mary, the Sherton’s maid that they’d brought with them from England.

  “Miss Elizabeth,” she greeted. “Your father is in his study.”

  “Where is Andrea?”

  “She’s in the kitchen with June.” Andrew knew June too – the Sherton’s cook. William must have brought the entire house with him when he came over the ocean.

  Mary took Lizzie’s outer clothing and her gloves and Lizzie marched down the hall to see her father. She shut the door behind her, leaving Andrew standing in the hall. With hesitation, Andrew stepped forward and found himself in the study, apparently being able to walk through walls. Although somewhat incredulous, and almost making him chuckle at his ability, he would gladly have traded back to being alive and mortal.

  “Please sit, Elizabeth. We need to have a hard conversation,” William was saying.

  “All of our conversations seem to be difficult,” Lizzie retorted, but she sat on a leather armchair as her father had directed.

  With a deep breath, and subsequent deep sigh, William looked at his daughter. “I have some news that will not be pleasant to hear.”

  “It never is,” Lizzie muttered under her breath. “If there is anyone questioning who Andie’s father is again, I swear I will find a musket and…”

  “It’s not that,” her father declar
ed loudly.

  Andrew looked from Lizzie to William wondering what these claims were about the child.

  “Once Andrew returns to us there won’t be anybody who will doubt that he is her father.”

  “My God!” Andrew gasped. He hadn’t even thought of the child’s parents… and who they might be. It hadn’t dawned on him that she was Lizzie’s daughter, but then he’d only had a few minutes to take it all in. Lizzie had a child… his child. “My God,” he repeated. He was a father.

  “Elizabeth,” William gulped. “Andrew will not be returning. He has died.”

  “No!”

  William nodded. “His ship wrecked in the storm two nights ago and all aboard have perished.”

  The wailing broke his heart as Andrew watched helplessly as Lizzie fell to the floor, overcome with grief and sobbing for what seemed like an eternity. Her father sat watching the scene unfold in front of him, and eventually kneeling beside his daughter and pulling her to his chest. It was the first time Andrew had ever seen William show any kind of physical affection towards his child.

  “I am so very sorry,” he whispered as he stroked her hair.

  “No you aren’t,” Lizzie spat as she sat upright. “You hated Andrew and told me that you would never allow me to marry a man so beneath my station. I’m sure you are not sorry at all!” she yelled.

  “Elizabeth,” William began, but Lizzie stood and ran from the room straight to the back of the house and the kitchen. She gathered her daughter in her arms and ran from the house, Andrew following closely behind her.