Eden waited patiently while Elliot tasted the coffee and looked over her. She was used to it. So she stood with straight-backed perfect posture and her eyes trained on his face while he evaluated her appearance. Lips that had pressed into a tight line curled at the edges. She bowed her head - the slightest of tilts - in acknowledgment of his comment.
“You flatter me. I am glad you like it, my Lord.” She thanked him graciously as if she had styled her hair for his preference. Under more peaceful circumstances, she would have been pleasantly surprised by his compliment. She would have made a mental note to continue styling herself this way for his benefit if she weren’t distracted by the child. The blankets fell away from the squirming thing revealing lynx ears. The tip of her tail twitched as her curiosity peaked. Whose child was this?
She tsked for the lost jacket looking more concerned for the missing and no doubt ravaged garment than the clearly stolen baby in Elliot’s arms. “I’m not sure it would be worth the stain remover for the rest of it either.” Her eyes passed over him again and she let out a longing sigh on behalf of the fine clothes he ruined so easily.
The topic changed suddenly to the state of her hand. A tiny scrape he’d apparently taken notice to. His touch was familiar but still sent an electric chill down her spine. Better to let him do as he pleased that resist. She easily acquiesced to him taking her hand. “It’s nothing. Just a scrape.” But he was apparently determined to fix it for her with warm lips on her fingers. The slight curl to her mouth seemed a semi-permanent fixture for the moment. Eden would have perhaps enjoyed the contact if not for the squealing child. The curiosity was killing her as was the pathetic crying but Eden was a patient woman and knew the delay in informing her was part of Elliot’s game.
Suddenly her hand was hers again. She examined the appendage, holding it in front of her like a woman examining a ring her lover had given her. Finding it in perfect condition she dropped her hand back in front of her just in time for the baby to be thrust at her.
Eden’s hands flew up and captured the child lest Elliot let it fall to the floor. He had held the child out as if it were a game of hot potato and it was her turn. Her hands brushed over his as she accepted the charge. A feeling of dread washed over her anew. This baby was her charge now. She could feel it. Just as she had been planning her exit from his service. Timely charge indeed.
Whether she had some motherly instinct or was just bent on cleaning Elliot’s messes, Eden cradled the child against her, instantly taken to fussing over the pathetic being. She petted her fingers over fine dark hair and held the child against her chest so she could pat its back and rub little circles into its spine soothingly. The child wasn’t so easily calmed but it stopped squirming as violently seeming to sense that Eden meant safety and warmth. It’s cries were more muffled against her shirt.
“I don’t recall you impregnating anyone, sir.” She said with a tone of suspicion. “What should I call it?” she shifted the child to peek under the wrappings. “Him.” She corrected as she fixed the blankets swaddling the child expertly as if she’d done it many times before. She returned to her previous task of comforting the upset boy, fingers passing over his hair again. “What am I to do with this child, Lord Wilder?”
She assumed keep it alive, but with Elliot assumptions were a dangerous thing. Better to let him express his will.
“You flatter me. I am glad you like it, my Lord.” She thanked him graciously as if she had styled her hair for his preference. Under more peaceful circumstances, she would have been pleasantly surprised by his compliment. She would have made a mental note to continue styling herself this way for his benefit if she weren’t distracted by the child. The blankets fell away from the squirming thing revealing lynx ears. The tip of her tail twitched as her curiosity peaked. Whose child was this?
She tsked for the lost jacket looking more concerned for the missing and no doubt ravaged garment than the clearly stolen baby in Elliot’s arms. “I’m not sure it would be worth the stain remover for the rest of it either.” Her eyes passed over him again and she let out a longing sigh on behalf of the fine clothes he ruined so easily.
The topic changed suddenly to the state of her hand. A tiny scrape he’d apparently taken notice to. His touch was familiar but still sent an electric chill down her spine. Better to let him do as he pleased that resist. She easily acquiesced to him taking her hand. “It’s nothing. Just a scrape.” But he was apparently determined to fix it for her with warm lips on her fingers. The slight curl to her mouth seemed a semi-permanent fixture for the moment. Eden would have perhaps enjoyed the contact if not for the squealing child. The curiosity was killing her as was the pathetic crying but Eden was a patient woman and knew the delay in informing her was part of Elliot’s game.
Suddenly her hand was hers again. She examined the appendage, holding it in front of her like a woman examining a ring her lover had given her. Finding it in perfect condition she dropped her hand back in front of her just in time for the baby to be thrust at her.
Eden’s hands flew up and captured the child lest Elliot let it fall to the floor. He had held the child out as if it were a game of hot potato and it was her turn. Her hands brushed over his as she accepted the charge. A feeling of dread washed over her anew. This baby was her charge now. She could feel it. Just as she had been planning her exit from his service. Timely charge indeed.
Whether she had some motherly instinct or was just bent on cleaning Elliot’s messes, Eden cradled the child against her, instantly taken to fussing over the pathetic being. She petted her fingers over fine dark hair and held the child against her chest so she could pat its back and rub little circles into its spine soothingly. The child wasn’t so easily calmed but it stopped squirming as violently seeming to sense that Eden meant safety and warmth. It’s cries were more muffled against her shirt.
“I don’t recall you impregnating anyone, sir.” She said with a tone of suspicion. “What should I call it?” she shifted the child to peek under the wrappings. “Him.” She corrected as she fixed the blankets swaddling the child expertly as if she’d done it many times before. She returned to her previous task of comforting the upset boy, fingers passing over his hair again. “What am I to do with this child, Lord Wilder?”
She assumed keep it alive, but with Elliot assumptions were a dangerous thing. Better to let him express his will.
Bitch, I'm limited edition.
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