By the Bay Ch. 08

When he pulled away, they were both panting, but Anita was pliant beneath him. Anguish was reflected in her eyes.

"Do you regret it?" he asked again, and this time, she shook her head slowly.

"There is nothing that I regret in the time I've spent with you. But please, there cannot be-."

A sickening thud echoed in the room, and Anita watched as a looked of surprised pain contorted Jay's features. Within seconds, a trail of blood dribbled from the back of his neck and onto her white dress. Letting out a string of curses, Jay grabbed the back of his head and fell to the mattress, verbalizing his pain.

Anita sat up and felt her heart freeze when she saw Meera a few feet in front of them, an iron pot clutched between her hands. Her eyes were murderous as she looked at Jay. When she raised the pot again, Anita's limbs came to life and she threw herself at her sister.

"Meera, what are you doing?" she shouted, grappling with Meera to get the pot out of her sister's hands.

"I'm giving him what he deserves. Don't stop me!"

"No, Meera! Put the pot down. Please. Nothing happened."

Meera turned blazing eyes to her sister. "Nothing happened? I saw what he was doing to you! I heard you scream!"

"You don't understand." Anita wretched the pot from her sister.

"What do I not understand? I think I understand quite enough of what the bastard did to you!"

"He was doing nothing, Meera, we were just -." Antia stopped, out of breath, out of words, unable to continue. Jay's groans of pain resounded in the background. "I have to tend to him," she said instead.

"No! Don't go near him. I don't think you understand, ka. The man nearly raped you!"

Anita's eyes narrowed at Meera's tone. Was Meera talking down to her? Did her younger sister think she wouldn't know about a man's advances?

"Meera," Anita said patiently. "We will talk later. I need to tend to Jay's injury."

"What is wrong with you? Why would you put yourself in danger – Jay? Did you just call him by his given name?"

Anita froze in the middle of tearing a sheet apart. Her head whipped around to her sister, who eyed her warily.

There must have been some truth reflected in Anita's eyes. "You haven't," Meera whispered brokenly, shaking her head.

"We will speak later," Anita replied with finality.

"No! We will speak now!"

Anita ignored her sister. Jay needed her attention more urgently than she did. Already Anita could see the pool of blood staining the sheets. With effort, she turned Jay over and winced at the sight of the blood interlacing with his hair.

"Jay, are you all right? Can you hear me?" she asked as she dabbed at the blood around the wound.

There was a muffled reply from the mattress.

"I'll see what I can do. Just hold on."

She turned to her sister. "We will speak downstairs. Now hush and wait for me in the kitchen."

Anita could tell that it was everything her sister could do not to protest. When she finally turned and stalked away, Anita hurried to the watercloset and wet the cloths to clean Jay's wound. She was already praying that it wasn't deep enough to cause great injury. But with the amount of blood...

She spent the better part of an hour trying to stop the flowing blood. When it finally did, though, she saw that there was a long split in his skin, from his nape to the base of his shoulders. She shuddered, unable to think of the pain he was going through. He was conscious as she wrapped the wound and made small, pained noises when her fingers grazed the tender spots.

When she was done, he looked pale, but at least now she knew that it wouldn't affect his life. She was very tempted to place a kiss against his damp forehead, but knew that she shouldn't. Instead, she stripped the bloody sheets from the bed and told him to rest.

Then she girded her loins as she headed down the stairs. She knew exactly what was waiting for her.

*

She set the soiled sheets on the counter, waiting for Meera to speak. Her sister was seated at the kitchen table, fingers tapping a rhythm on the hard wood. Anita didn't know what to expect from her sister, but whatever it was, she vowed she would accept it and give Meera nothing but the truth.

"Did he bed you?"

What had she expected from her sister? Subtlety? Tact?

"Yes," Anita said quietly.

She waited for the harsh words, the insults, but they did not come.

"How long has this been going on?"

"A few months. Perhaps ten weeks."

"Did he force you?"

Anita shook her head, still facing away from her sister. She knew she wouldn't be able to look at Meera without feeling ashamed.

"So it was consensual."

Anita opened her mouth, but no sound would escape her lips. She cleared her throat and nodded instead.

"Why did you not tell me?"

Anita's eyes flickered to her sister's, before she looked down at her fingers again. "Because I didn't want you to think the worst of me."

When Meera didn't reply, Anita continued. "I'm not like mother, I need you to understand that. I'm not a whore. I just wanted someone to share..."

"I know," Meera said softly, staring down at her own hands.

"What?"

"I know you're not like mother. I've never thought you were."

Meera slid off the stool and walked to her sister. "I'm just disappointed that you never told me."

Anita said nothing, still waiting for the derogatory words from Meera. "Is he what you want? That man?"

Anita looked away.

"Ka, we're women now. You can talk to me about these things. You don't have to hide them from me."

Anita felt odd that she was discussing her relationship with Jay with her baby sister. But she knew she had to tell Meera something. "I-yes. He's what I want."

"Then who am I to stop you? You don't have to hide from me; just speak to me. I'll understand."

Anita held her sisters hand. "I thought you were angry. In the room..."

"I was shocked, that's all. I thought he was raping you."

"He wasn't. We were – that is – we had an argument."

Meera wrinkled her nose. "And you were solving it on the bed?"

Anita shook her head. "I told him that I couldn't carry on with our relationship because it was too risky."

"After two months, you realized that it was risky only today?" Meera asked with a slight laugh.

Anita felt the beginnings of a blush heat her cheeks. "No, I've always known it would be. But... last night his sister caught us in bed, and it felt like two worlds were colliding. I couldn't handle it."

"His sister? He has a sister?"

"Yes, Catherine, I believe. Are you friends with her, by any chance? She mentioned you."

Was that a shot of panic in Meera's eyes? Or was it the play of the light? "Oh, um, uh, yes I do. She's a friend." Meera changed the subject before it became uncomfortable. "I'm going to go upstairs now and see if he's all right. I didn't mean to hit him that hard. I thought I was protecting you."

Anita noted the quick change of topic, but gave it little importance. "I doubt he'll blame you for misinterpreting the situation. Don't worry."

"I'd like to apologize to him either way."

"I'll tell him when he wakes up. Now you should go to bed. It is late."

Meera shook her head. "I'll sit by him until he wakes up." Sensing that Anita was going to protest, Meera reached out and took her hand. "It's my fault that he's hurt."

"What about school? Won't you be too tired?"

"The examinations are over, so it doesn't really matter."

"All right then," Anita agreed, though half-heartedly. "Why don't you go upstairs while I put these sheets to wash?"

"I will." She leaned forward to kiss her sister on the cheek. "Please don't keep anything from me the next time."

"Considering that the consequences are quite drastic, I will not."

*

She couldn't believe it. Had it really been that simple? Had Meera really accepted Anita's relationship with Jay? It was so surreal that it left Anita in a daze for several minutes. She stood in the same spot, staring at seemingly nothing, trying to understand the clashing emotions within her.

There was joy, yes, a good amount of joy that her sister had been understanding of her situation. But then again, there was guilt at not having told her sister in the first place. She shouldn't have kept anything from Meera; if she'd discussed the issue with her sister in the beginning, lots of problems could have been avoided, especially with Jay.

Jay.

After soaking the sheets in the washing basin, Anita went to the garden to snip a handful of herbs to make into a salve. Since it was too late to call for the doctor, she just had to rely on traditional medicine until morning to help reduce Jay's pain. She wished she could turn back the clocks so that Meera would never have hit him. Anita felt it was her fault that Jay had been injured.

As she added the citrus juice to the herbs, Anita wondered what her life would be like with the new change. Would Meera try to get along with Jay? Will they be able to have meals together with laughter and gaiety instead of the solemnity of the last time? The idea of all of them together sounded wonderful to her. She hoped it would be possible.

*

When Meera reached the room, she saw that the bastard was awake. He reached a hand to his bandage and winced with the pain of it. Good. In Meera's opinion, he deserved more than he'd received.

She sat on the edge of the bed and watched him. He stared back at her, his eyes unapologetic. It was just as she'd thought. He was like all the other men she knew. Did he think he could corrupt her sister and not pay the price for it? Anita might have trusted this man with her virginity, but Meera knew better than to trust a man with anything.

"You ruined her," she stated simply without preamble. "I thought you didn't find her attractive?"

"I didn't ruin her. We have an agreement." He spoke haltingly, the pain evident in his voice.

Meera shook her head. "You ruined her for any other man and you know it. What would you have her do when you decide to sail away to your perfect English country? Would you have her wait for you to return for the rest of her life? Leave her with three mix-raced bastard children to raise while you marry a proper tea-serving English lady? You may have fooled my sister with your promises but you don't fool me."

His skin was pale from the loss of blood, and Meera knew he should rest, but she'd be damned if she didn't tell him that she disapproved of what he'd done to her sister.

His lips parted to speak, but his voice was soft. "I didn't make her any promises. She knows I'll leave someday."

"And she still agreed to sleep with you? Do I look like I was born yesterday?"

"Honestly, yes. What happens between Anita and I is personal and none of your concern. Now, if you would leave..."

Meera stood. "I told Anita that I was coming upstairs to apologize. I'll be staying here for the night just to show her that I am genuinely sorry for hurting you and would do anything to help you recover... though we both know that that it isn't the case. I would rather you die and leave my sister alone."

He didn't respond, but his eyes showed veiled resignation.

She padded to the cushioned chair near the window and sat, her eyes never leaving him. Gods, she hated men.

Anita came in a few minutes later, carrying a basin of warm water and a bottle of green salve. Even though he was incapacitated, he had a smile for her, and a reassurance that he was feeling better, even though he probably was not. There was a familiarity between them in the way she touched him, and Meera was quick to pick up on that. There was a secret in their smiles as well, and Meera felt a pang at that realization. She'd thought, just two days ago, that she had that with someone. Apparently, it hadn't been real...

Meera folded her legs onto the chair and watched her sister with that man. She didn't like him, but she had to admit that he made her sister happy. Even though the happiness might not last long, it felt good to hear carefree laughter from Anita after a long time.

*

England

Lady Holly waited in quiet anticipation for her best friend's arrival. Her long, thin fingers interlaced with one another as she sat by the window, waiting for the grand phaeton to pull up in front of the countryside manor. Holly had been waiting for days for Elena's visit, and now that her friend was here, Holly could finally obtain a second opinion on the colors and materials of the gowns she would be wearing for her first season in London. She knew little of fashion, mainly because she hadn't a mother to chide her if her gown was out-of-style, but she knew that Elena would be able to help her in that aspect. She had, after all, already attended two seasons in London.

When she saw the white phaeton in the distance, she grabbed her skirts and scurried for the foyer. Winston, their butler, opened the massive front door for her, and she ran down the steps as recklessly as a young child. She watched as the phaeton rumbled across the cobblestone path and come to a stop a few feet in front of her.

Holly nearly gasped at the ensemble Elena was wearing. She looked beautiful, with her auburn curls falling over one shoulder and her hat tilted at a mischievous angle. The dark blue dress she sported ended at mid-calf and was accentuated only by a thin gold chain around her waist. Holly hoped her own ensemble didn't displease the older girl.

"Elena!" she called, coming forward to help her friend down the phaeton. Elena accepted her hand gratefully.

"Holly," Elena returned with a smile and an embrace. "How has your week been thus far?"

"Oh, just fabulous! Father ordered a selection of cloths and dress designs from a modiste in the city and I've been trying my best to pick out the ones which would look good on me."

"That is indeed wonderful. Perhaps I could help you select your dresses?"

"Oh, would you? That would be fantastic!"

Both women started up the front stairs, engaging in idle chatter. Winston welcomed Elena into the house.

"What would you like to drink? Tea? Perhaps some cider? Oh, youmuststay for dinner. Father ordered the cooks to prepare your favorite Apple Crumble for dessert. Please tell me you'll stay."

Elena smiled at the enthusiastic girl. Holly reminded her of the sister she'd always wished she had. "Of course, Holly. Now, where is your father? I should thank him for his kindness."

"He's left for a meeting in the city."

"Oh."

Holly noted the dip in Elena's spirit. "Oh, don't worry! He's promised to be back for dinner." She grasped Elena's hand and walked towards her bedroom. "I'm sure we'll be occupied with the dresses until then!"

*

"You have beautiful calves."

Elena turned to smile at Holly, still buried in a pile of different squares of cloth. Holly was seated on the bed, looking through several dress designs from Paris. Her hair had come loose from its pins.

"Thank you."

"Mine are like twigs. They're ugly."

"I'm sure they're not, Holly."

"They are!" the girl protested, slipping to the edge of the bed. She hiked her dress up. "See?"

Yes, the twin stockinged calves did indeed resembled twigs. "Well, thin calves are in fashion this season."

"They are?"

"Yes, definitely. Here, I think this green would match your eyes." Elena changed the subject and handed the girl a silky green patch of cloth. Seemingly satisfied, Holly took the cloth from her and laid it against the book of designs.

"Which design should I pick?"

Elena ruffled through more material. "Perhaps the second design on the first page? The one with the brooch?"

"Oh, yes! Of course. You're brilliant!"

They spent an hour that way, combing through material and designs. Holly's excitement about her first season was contagious and Elena found herself agreeing to be by her side on the very first night.

They were selecting the sixth dress when Elena heard the telltale sounds of a carriage coming to a stop in front of the manor. Immediately, the blood began to run thickly in her body. It could only be one person returning home.

"What's wrong?" Holly queried when Elena stopped speaking.

She was quick to collect herself. "Nothing. I, uh, need to visit the watercloset is all." She stood, brushing off the cloths that clung to her dress.

"Would you like me to-."

"No, that's all right. I know where it is."

She hurried from the room, passed the watercloset, and waited at the top of the stairs to hear his booted footsteps. She knew, beyond a doubt, that he would head directly to his study before anywhere else. True to his nature, she heard him ascend the stairs and hid herself in the alcove between the handrail and the wall.

When she saw his frame at the top of the stairs, she pulled him into the darkness. His hands gripped her shoulders almost painfully before he realized it was her. Then his hands dropped away completely.

"What are you doing, Elena?" he asked, mildly frustrated.

"I was waiting for you. We need to talk, do we not?"

He ran a hand through his roguishly long blonde locks. "We have nothing to talk about. I told you the last time that it could not happen again."

"Why not? I don't understand. Until you give me a good reason why it can't..."

"You are young enough to be my daughter. That is reason enough."

She flipped her hair over her shoulder defiantly. "That isnotreason enough. We are only seventeen years apart. Lady Chesire married Lord Taulin who was twice her age. The ton accepted it."

"She's a thirty-year-old widow. He's a sixty-year-old duke. The ton would have no choice but to accept them. The ton would never accept us."

"Well, I don't care what the ton thinks..."

"You can't speak that way, Elena. Your actions have consequences; my actions have consequences. Understand that."

"I do! I understand it wholly. But I am willing to deal with the consequences."

"Well, I am not."

He brushed past her and headed for the study. She followed close behind him. "Why? Did our kiss mean nothing to you, sir?"

He whirled toward her, fury blazing brightly in his eyes. "I have told you not to mention it ever again. It was a mistake, a moment of weakness!"

"A mistake neither of us regrets."

"Elena..."

"You know I desire you... and I'm convinced you desire me as well."

"It is impossible, Elena. What will I tell my daughter? What will I tell your father?"

"The truth. That you wish to court me."

"It would be a betrayal of trust and friendship. I cannot do that."

"You can!"

"Elena, listen to me!" He took her by the shoulders, shaking her. Her hair slid across his palm, teasing him with its silky texture. He steeled himself against every feminine wile she could use to conquer his senses. "There isnothingbetween us. Nothing. Please understand that. I have vowed never to marry again, and that can't be changed. Not for anyone, and certainly not for you. Now, we will both act like mature adults and forget anything ever happened between us. Do you understand me?"

Her eyes glowed with unshed tears in the light of the hallway. He had hurt her; he didn't need her tears as evidence of that. When she broke away and ran from him, he let her go because he knew no other way to make her forget him. She would probably hate him now, and a few years into the future, remember him as a fond but bitter fragment of her life.

He, on the other hand, would be re-living the few moments he'd shared with her for years to come.

*

The Island

Anita sat in a chair opposite Meera, a cook book open in her lap. She'd found the leather-bound book in one of the bookcases in the guest room, and had always wanted to read it. She'd never had the time however, until now.

Jay was sleeping soundly on the bed, his breathing deep and even. She was glad that he wasn't too seriously injured. The doctor had visited them in the morning, and had stated that Jay had a concussion. It might cause nausea, severe bouts of pain and bleeding, but it would mend as time passed. Jay was also young and healthy, so it would take less time for the wound to heal, or so the doctor had said. He'd also prescribed some medication that Anita assured Jay took three times a day.