Expect the Unexpected

Hello, luvs...

Just thought I'd let you know, I'm using the beginning of one of my sister's stories. She wasn't going anywhere with it (she concocted it to make fun of romance, or something) so I asked to finish. She said it was fine. It looks sort of typical right now, but it won't be later, I promise!

Thanks for reading it!

Yours always, Inkblot.

"You invited the Marquis de Sonfield over for dinner?"

Ellen's soft honey-colored tresses brushed against her blushing cheek as she swung around to face her cousin. Her turqoise eyes, surrounded by long black lashes, glared at her cousin who was sitting on the bed.

"Oh, and what's wrong with that? Really, Ellen, you don't have any reason to hate the man. Especially as you've never met him."

"I hate him for his reputation as a rake and a ladies' man, Anne! And you should too, if you know what's good for you," replied Ellen furiously, returning to the mirror and running the brush through her long, smooth hair.

"I never hate good-looking men, especially not when they are charming. What's a little kiss now and again? If the Marquis takes an interest in either of us, we'd do well to respond favorably, Ellen. He's a powerful man."

Ellen frowned at her cousin. "Anne, really. I don't care how powerful he is, I just..."

Her voice trailed off as she heard men's voices downstairs. "Oh! My brother must be home. Let's greet him, shall we?"

Anne put out a hand to catch Ellen and remind her that her hair was loose and looked a fright, but the impetuous girl had already gone. She sighed and followed, but stopped frozen at the top of the staircase at what she saw below. Ellen was standing, hair astray and flowing down her back, not fully clothed, in front of the dignified, incredibly handsome and very amused Marquis de Sonfield.

***

"Well, James, a pretty little establishment you've got here and no mistake," the Marquis said.

Ellen's brother grinned. "Yes, I like to think so. Of course, it's my sister who keeps it in tip top shape."

"Your sister?"

"Yes, Ellen. Let me tell you, Thomas, that she's a fine little woman."

Thomas, the Marquis, grinned. "I'd like to meet her sometime."

"I'm sure you would," replied James. "But you shan't, not until I say so. She's a prickly little bur, and not to be trusted in polite company."

Thomas was about to reply, but was interrupted by the sound of bare feet pattering down the stairs. He looked up and was stricken with astonishment at what he saw. A young woman floated down the staircase, lightly wafting along, her bare feet seeming not to touch the ground. Her hair was beautiful, long and luxurious, cascading down around her perfect form. Her breasts were accented by the light summer dress she wore, and Thomas found himself unable to tear his gaze away. Her face was perfectly lovely, alight with happiness.

"James! You're home..." Her soft voice died away as she saw Thomas standing there. Her hand went to her hair, and she glanced involuntarily at her dainty white feet. "Oh, dear...I'm so sorry, James. I wasn't expecting visitors."

James sighed, then grinned and held out his hand. The lovely woman took it and came down the remaining stairs with as much dignity as she could muster.

"Thomas, this is my sister, Ellen. Ellen, may I present the Marquis of Sonfield. I understand Anne has asked him to dine with us tonight. I was just showing him around our little estate."

Thomas watched in amusement as the woman's expression darkened imperceptibly. Her warm and friendly manner was gone in an instant, and her red lips tightened. Unfortunately the effect was that her lips pursed together and looked even more kissable and delicious than they had before.

She curtsied stiffly and held out a cold hand. "I am pleased, Marquis, I'm sure."

"And I am equally sure you are not pleased at all," replied Thomas, grinning. He seized her tiny hand and noticed how it trembled in his. He bent and dropped a light kiss on the back of her white skin, then released it immediately. She pulled back and shuddered a little, looking at her hand and knitting her slender eyebrows.

"I must leave you, I am afraid, to prepare for dinner, which will be served at eight. I look forward to seeing you then," said Ellen, and hurried back up the stairs. Thomas refrained from whistling as she retreated, then turned and raised an eyebrow at James.

"See what I mean?" said James tiredly. "She's so impulsive."

"I think she's quite...disastrously lovely," said Thomas. "Now, show me the library."

***

Ellen stared stoically down at her plate, refusing to meet the eyes of the odious and insufferable Marquis. And it didn't help that he was so handsome! Really, it wasn't fair for a man so lacking in principles to have such warm, deep green eyes.

"Don't you think so, Miss Dagrew?" The Marquis's voice cut through her thoughts and she started, blushing.

"I'm sorry, my lord, I believe I missed the question," she said irritably, still looking down.

"I had asked if the country was not lovely in these parts," repeated the Marquis, and Ellen gritted her teeth at the obvious amusement in his voice.

"Yes, quite," she snapped. James looked at her reprovingly, but she was still studying her untouched food intently.

"I have not yet had a chance," continued the Marquis, shooting a mischievous glance at James, "to view the country upclose. Only from the carriage on the road."

"Indeed, my lord," replied Ellen distantly. She had determined not to listen at all to what the terrible man was saying.

"Perhaps Miss Dagrew would be interested in joining me for a horse ride next week, after my staff has had time to settle down."

"Mmm," said Ellen distractedly. She was beginning to find little shapes and figures in the meat sauce on her plate.

"Good! That's settled, then," said the Marquis, wiping his mouth firmly with his napkin. "Thank you for a wonderful dinner, Miss Dagrew."

James started up. "Oh, please, Thomas, come into the library and have a drink before you go. A toast to your new home and new neighbors."

"And new...friends," said the Marquis, green eyes twinkling disturbingly at Ellen.

"Ellen," said James sharply.

"Oh!" said Ellen and jumped to her feet. "Yes, James, I'm sorry. I was distracted."

"So it would seem," said the Marquis wryly.

"Thomas and I will go into the library to have a drink," said James firmly.

"All right, James," said Ellen, smiling at him fondly. "Don't get too foxed. I don't want to have to drag you to your bed."

The Marquis snorted with laughter, and Ellen turned, bowing frostily. "It has been a pleasure, sir."

"Oh, yes," he said, bowing deeply. "Much more pleasure than you could ever guess."

Ellen glared coldly at him, then swept out, beckoning at two maids to go in and clean up the table.

***

An hour later, Ellen was cursing the Marquis roundly, methodically, thinking of all the words she could and repeating them alphabetically. She had been so intent on ignoring him during dinner, she had not even touched her food. Her stomach was growling like a bear after winter, but she wasn't sure if the Marquis was gone yet, and she was in her nightdress. It would surely be a blow to her pride to be seen getting a snack in the middle of the night in the kitchen, when she hadn't eaten her dinner.

Ellen tried to distract herself by sketching a profile on a blank piece of paper, but the profile looked disturbingly like the Marquis's. She crumpled it angrily, and her attention once more returned to the empty cramp in her stomach.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, she decided to risk whatever embarassment lay below and get something to eat. She drew on a dressing gown and crept down the stairs softly. She cursed again, inside her head this time, when she saw the light in the library still glowing softly from underneath the door. She stepped close to the walls, trying to avoid the creaks in the floorboards.

She held her breath as she slipped past the library, and let out a sigh of relief when she finally reached the kitchen. She quietly assembled a bit of bread and a glass of wine mixed with water for herself, then stood at the counter to eat it.

"Oh, good. It's just you."

Ellen gasped and spilled wine all over her dressing gown. She drew in her breath to scream, but a strong, slender-fingered hand came over her mouth.

"It's just me," said the voice. Ellen recognized the voice...the odious Marquis.

"My lord," she said, lifting his fingers from her mouth and dropping them delicately. "I'm so sorry to have disturbed you. I was hungry."

The Marquis's teeth flashed in the pale moonlight as he grinned. He folded his arms and stood back, and Ellen felt his eyes raking over her body.

"I find myself...glad that I offered to investigate. James thought it was a burglar, but I assured him it was very unlikely. I was right. Instead it was just you."

Ellen copied his stance, folding her arms over her breasts. "Yes, well, I'm finished now."

"No, no, you have spilled your wine. Let me get you some more," said the Marquis, all politeness.

"Oh, really, it's all right," snapped Ellen. She stuffed the last bit of bread into her mouth and prepared to stomp out of the kitchen.

"At least let me clean off a bit of this wine," said the Marquis, advancing towards Ellen.

She stared up at him, fully poised to run away, but caught somehow by the way the moonlight shone in his dark hair. His eyes glinted and caught the distant glow of the library's lamplight, and in their depths there smoldered...something Ellen didn't want to think about.

"I...that is, I..." her voice came out cracked, and she licked her lips. "No!"

She finally broke free of the moonlight's spell and turned, pulling her wine-stained dressing gown about her more tightly.

"No? Well, perhaps not. I recall distinctly that you do seem to hate me," said the Marquis, laughing.

Ellen flushed deeply, and turned, flying down the hall, past James who stood bewildered in the library's doorway, and up the stairs.

"I'm looking forward to next week's ride!" she seemed to hear the Marquis say in his languidly amused voice, but she shrugged it aside, speeding down the hallway to her room and shutting the door.

"Wait a moment," she said, panting as she leaned against the door. "Next week's ride?" She stared in trepidation at the closed door, then groaned and leaned her forehead against it. "What have I done?"

Yep, so there it is! I dont' actually know anything about England, so if I've had some technical errors about the way things were there, please let me know, all you Brits, eh? Thanks! ~Inkblot~