“Now,” he growled and thrust up hard.
Their bodies were so in tune that rapture hit simultaneously.
She cried out his name as brilliance streaked through her. Waves of ecstasy buffeted her, sent her reeling. Only a tiny pinhole of light shone in the dark turbulence.
And the light was love.
She rode out one climax. Another. Then another. Each flung her higher. Each left her sure she could give no more. Then the next climax would hit and leave her shuddering in helpless reaction.
When it was over, she wilted in a limp heap onto Matthew’s chest. He was her destiny. He broke her heart. But she’d never regret sharing these days with him. The radiance would glow, no matter how far apart they were.
Between her legs, she was sticky and she ached. It was a good ache. The best ache. She sighed and buried her nose in his chest to dam sudden tears.
How could she bring herself to leave him tomorrow?
Toward dawn, Matthew roused Grace from her restless doze. She’d hardly slept and in the candles’ guttering light, exhaustion marked her lovely face.
He was a conscienceless beast. He’d used her ruthlessly, relentlessly, only giving her brief surcease. She’d be sore. He hadn’t been gentle, to his shame.
They hadn’t spoken of parting. Although impending separation hovered behind every touch, every sigh, every climax. He’d tried to make this night more than a sorrowful valediction. He wanted it to be a celebration of their love that she’d remember with a smile through the years to come. The years he couldn’t be with her.
This was the last time they’d lie together. An elegy played in his heart as he cupped her breast. It fit perfectly in his hand. She was naked. They’d eventually shed the last of their clothes. He’d forgotten quite when. Somewhere before midnight, he was sure. Somewhere between carpet and bed. She must be a mass of bruises from him pounding into her on the floor.
She sighed—she wasn’t awake although she wasn’t asleep either—and turned toward him. Her nipple darkened and tightened. Her body recognized what was to come.
He bent his head and placed a tender kiss on that rosy peak. Then he turned his attention to her other breast, drawing it into his mouth and suckling it. His touch held a bittersweet softness.
The mark of Filey’s vile bite was now only a shadow. It would fade and disappear. What they felt wouldn’t.
“I love you,” she murmured and stroked his hair.
She’d said those words so often tonight. But he wanted to hear them again. How many times were enough? Enough to lend an ember of warmth to the icy loneliness that awaited him?
He nuzzled the delicate skin under her breast and kissed his way across her belly. She sighed and bowed up toward him. He raised his head to find her watching, her eyes dark with grief. The imminence of parting hung heavy between them. He moved over her and kissed her with all the adoration he felt. Her lips were pliant and silky.
She opened to him immediately, her tongue seeking. During the long night, they’d tested passion’s fury. This was different. Sweeter, sadder, deeper. For all that their earlier couplings had been unions of soul as well as body.
Her legs fell open so he rested in the hot apex. He was hard, even after the night just passed. Very gently, for he wanted her to remember he cherished her as much as wanted her, he stroked her cleft.
She was dry. He’d tried her to her limit. It was a gift of love that she turned so willingly to him now.
He kissed her again, trying to store the taste and feel against the desolation to come. She could revive a dead man with her kiss alone. In his case, she had. For one insubstantial moment, he’d tasted life in her arms.
He sucked and licked at her neck and she rewarded him with a rush of moisture against his seeking fingers. He nibbled his way downward, planning on using his mouth to bring her to climax before he took her.
“No,” she whispered, as he lingered at her navel. “I want you with me.”
She was right. This was farewell. He should be inside her. He needed the joining as much as she. They’d shared pleasure all night. Now he must give her everything he had.
“Grace, you break my heart,” he said rawly, raising himself on his elbows to see her face.
She was pale as the moon. Against her white skin, her lips were swollen and red. He’d remember her like this to his dying day.
She stroked his jaw. He pressed his face into the caress. “Make love to me, Matthew. As though the world ends today.”
The world did end today.
He knew what she wanted. She didn’t want desperate passion. She didn’t want the excitement of experiment. She wanted the two of them moving through eternity as though nothing could ever sunder them.
A bird called outside. Sunrise wasn’t far away.
Very slowly, he entered her. Relishing every sigh, every quiver of weary muscles. He planted himself deep, so deep he touched her soul. Then he held still, breathing as she breathed, his heart beating in time with hers.
Her touch was ineffably tender as she traced his shoulders, his chest, his back. Her wandering fingers wrote a lifetime of love on his skin.
He took a deep breath so her scent filled his head. Only then did he move. He was slow, penetrating to her core with every thrust and holding himself there as he glimpsed heaven.
She gave herself up to him. She was his partner, his darling, his lover. He wanted this communion to last forever.
He’d worked off his fierceness earlier. He felt no driving hunger to conquer or subdue or possess. Just this moving toward and away, endless as the tide or the rising and setting of the sun.
He kept up the deliberate, tender rhythm for an inhumanly long interval. He thought of nothing but the woman in his arms and how he loved her. He couldn’t speak. His feelings went beyond words. There was just darkness and sighs of pleasure and the soft sound of his body sliding in and out of hers.
He clung to that mystical closeness. But eventually his body bayed for satisfaction. He couldn’t hold himself back.
Her climax started slowly and built and built. It was like nothing he’d ever felt. The waves became a great crescendo that swept him with her into wild release. He gave himself up to her in a blinding burst of joy and love. Then held her safe as she slowly came back from the brink of the universe.
They would speak the words of parting later. But in his soul, he’d just said every farewell he needed to say.
Chapter 22
Grace crept into the salon and scuttled across to the elaborate desk that dominated one corner. It was still early. Mrs. Filey worked in the kitchen and paid no attention to comings and goings. Matthew had slipped outside to check on something with his roses.
She and Matthew wanted to present as normal an appearance as possible today. After the night’s unbridled passion, there had been a poignant joy in talking quietly as they dressed. She always loved to watch him shave, but this morning, the pleasure had been tinged with sharp regret that it was the last time she’d share the small, precious intimacy.
They had touched constantly as they’d moved about the bedroom. Tiny, glancing contacts. She wondered how she’d survive without the gentle brush of his hand on her skin.
All the while, sorrow hovered unspoken, darkening the air. Matthew had infiltrated her very marrow. Every beat of her heart repeated his name. His scent was the air she breathed.
After such a night, how could she abandon him to his lonely prison?
She didn’t just abandon him. She meant to betray him.
Quickly, she checked over her shoulder but the door remained closed. As once before, she rifled Matthew’s desk. She wasn’t sure what she’d say if he found her snooping through his private papers. Certainly anything but the truth.
Pigeonholes ranked across the top held writing implements and stationery and nothing else. Frantic with guilt and her need to get back to Matthew, she turned her attention to the drawers.
Here she found what she wanted. Or at leas
t she hoped it was, she didn’t have time to check. If Matthew knew what she intended, he’d never forgive her.
Hurriedly, she bundled handfuls of documents into her pockets and down the front of her dress. She grabbed another pile without looking and fled the room.
Grace prayed guilt wasn’t written on her face when she entered the courtyard. Matthew looked up with a smile when she appeared. He’d seemed calm, composed this morning, but he’d learned to hide his deepest reactions in a cruel school. Biting her lip, she forced back tears. She had to be strong. For both of them.
“Come for a walk,” she said huskily.
His marked black brows contracted in a puzzled frown. This wasn’t part of the original plan. “Grace?”
She squared her shoulders as if she prepared for battle. Why not? She did. “Please.”
She didn’t know what he saw in her face but he set down his pruning shears and came to take her arm. “As you wish.”
Wolfram rose and trailed after them.
Silently, they made their way through the sunlit woods. As if by agreement, both stopped in the glade where he’d first kissed her. That magical moment seemed so long ago. She’d lived a lifetime with him since. A lifetime in a little over two weeks.
“Are you afraid?” he asked in concern, brushing a few wisps of hair back from her face. She played the widow Paget today and she’d braided her hair tight around her head.
“Yes, I’m afraid.” Then in a rush, “But I’m more afraid for you.”
His eyebrows arched in surprise. “Me? What can they do to me that they haven’t done before? I’ll be fine. I told you—my uncle’s control of the Lansdowne gold ends if I die.”
Once she might have believed him. Now she knew better. She’d had time to consider all the implications of his decision to send her away. With an abrupt gesture, she pushed his hand from her face.
“I know what you intend,” she said curtly. Wolfram whined at her tone and pressed closer to his master’s side.
“I intend to get you back to the real world,” he said in a grim voice, dropping one hand to the dog’s head.
“Yes. Then you’re going to kill Filey and arrange your own death. I’m not a fool, Matthew. You’re only biding your time until you think I’m safe.” Her voice broke, leaving her resolve to remain cool and pragmatic in ruins. “This may be the last time we speak to each other. We can’t part on a lie.”
“Grace…” He paused, looking stricken. This attack surprised him, she knew. “What happens to me doesn’t matter.”
“How dare you say that?” she spat. “Of course it matters.”
“I’m not living like an animal in a menagerie until I die of old age. I refuse to let my uncle plunder my inheritance any longer. I can’t escape this estate without harming the innocent. My only options are life in this prison or death. I choose death. That is my one freedom.”
“Promise me you’ll wait six months,” she said steadily even while her heart screamed denial at the cold accounting of his options. He couldn’t die. She wouldn’t permit him to die.
“Why?” he snapped, goaded into a flash of anger. “Nothing will change.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her stomach cramping with nausea as she pictured the lonely hell she consigned him to.
His anger faded and his lips tilted in a smile, although his eyes were dull with hopelessness. “I’m not, my darling. I’ll die seeing your face and remembering your voice saying you love me. There are worse ways to leave this world.”
Her brief weakness fled. He sounded resigned to his fate and she wasn’t letting him get away with it. She wouldn’t give in on this, no matter how her heart keened for his misery. “I don’t want you to leave this world!”
His smile vanished. “Jesus, Grace! Would you rather I sit in this cage like a prize capon until I become mad indeed? If you love me, leave me the liberty to choose my destiny.”
The moment she’d dreaded since she’d guessed his plans had arrived. She straightened her spine and stared at him, reading his pain, reading his brave resolve to end his captivity in the only way he believed possible.
She bit her lip and strove for courage. Thank heaven he wasn’t touching her. If he touched her, her resistance would crumble like chalk. Raising her chin, she forced herself to speak with merciless clarity.
“Unless you promise to take no action for six months, I’m not leaving.”
The blood drained from his cheeks and an expression of ineffable hauteur masked his distress. “This is beneath you. I won’t submit to blackmail.”
“I’m asking for six months.” She prayed she found help before that time was up. She prayed she lived so long without falling into Lord John’s clutches.
“For God’s sake, don’t endanger yourself to save me.” His voice developed a taunting edge. “What do you imagine you can do against my uncle? He’ll crush you with less thought than he’d give to swatting a fly. Have you learned nothing?”
He spoke directly to her greatest terror. Or her greatest terror after her fear that Matthew would die before she found aid.
She sucked in a deep breath. She could handle fear. She’d been frightened so long, it had become her natural element.
“I won’t take stupid risks. But I may meet someone who can help.” She’d always known her plan was flimsy. Hearing it aloud, it sounded insubstantial as a cloud.
“I’ll never be free. You just extend my torture.” He spoke as if he hated her. He probably did right now. She could imagine what it had cost him to decide to end his suffering. Now she thwarted his chance to retrieve his honor and stop his uncle’s depredations.
“Just for six months, Matthew.” She reached for his hand but he flinched away.
“You insist that your will prevails by giving me an impossible choice.” He hadn’t spoken to her so coldly since her first days on the estate. She shivered. She’d forgotten quite how astringent that tone was.
“I want your word you’ll do nothing to endanger your welfare for six months.”
Lord, what if she’d stuck to her original plan and asked for a year? Could she rescue him in six months?
He stared into the trees as if he could no longer bear the sight of her. She didn’t need to see his expression to recognize his desolation or how angry he was.
After a long pause, he shrugged with a carelessness she didn’t believe and turned to her. His golden eyes were guarded as they’d been guarded when he’d first seen her. Even Wolfram’s stare seemed an accusation.
Matthew’s lips twisted in a caricature of a smile. “As you say, what’s six months? Yes, you have my word.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding. His honor was more precious to him than life. He wouldn’t break his promise.
“Thank you.”
“Now, are you ready to leave or do you have further conditions?” He presented his arm with an elegant flourish. He was at his most lordly, his deep voice clear and crisp. No trace now of her ardent, tender lover.
He was furious and hurt at what he saw as her betrayal. She’d had an unfair advantage. When she bartered his cooperation for her safety, she’d known she’d win. Now the sun rose high in the sky. Must rancor contaminate their last memories of each other?
She ignored his extended arm. She didn’t want him to escort her back to the cottage like a stranger. “Matthew, is this how you want to say goodbye?” she asked in a small voice.
“Grace, you test me to my limits. You know what we’re about to do. You know why we’re doing it.” He didn’t sound angry anymore. Instead he sounded deathly unhappy, which was worse.
The guilt that had tortured Grace since she’d stolen his private papers twisted in her belly like a snake. This was for his own good, she assured herself desperately. She couldn’t tell him the full extent of her plan or he’d stop her. She knew that as she knew she loved him.
“It breaks my heart to leave.” She blinked away tears.
His smile became more natural a
nd he reached out to take both her hands loosely in his. Beneath his smile, he still looked tired and sad.
“You have my promise. I’ll do nothing to change my situation for six months. Now let us make peace, my love.”
He’d always been so generous, even when he believed her his enemy. How could she bear it if she failed him?
If she thought about that, her courage would shrivel to nothing. She needed every ounce of courage to escape. Although not as much courage as he needed to stay.
“There will be no peace for me until you’re free,” she whispered, her heart brimming with misery.
His face sharpened with grief. “Don’t, Grace. Run as far as you can and forget me.”
She didn’t bother arguing. What was the point? Nothing would deter her. “Kiss me,” she said in a broken voice.
Very gently, he took her face in his hands. At first, his lips were cool but heat soon overcame restraint. He took his time, savoring her as if she were his last meal.
She trembled and opened her mouth. She couldn’t bear this parting. She couldn’t. Only the fragile hope that she could rescue him kept her from begging him to let her remain.
As his tongue drove into her mouth, he snatched her up against him. She twined her arms around his back and kissed him with equal hunger.
There was passion. And sorrow.
Above all, there was love. Love burning like a flame.
She wanted to stay in his arms forever.
It was impossible.
Danger awaited her. Untold suffering awaited him. He’d said little about the consequences of what he meant to do. She knew enough to guess. And he’d face the aftermath without her. She felt as though she deserted him on the field of battle to face an invincible enemy alone.
Gradually, the frenzy abated. The kiss ended as it had begun, in gentleness and regret. He drew away and she glimpsed tears in his eyes. Tears he was too proud to shed.
“I love you, Grace.” It was a vow.
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