The Seymour Siblings (Fiona Miers' Regency boxsets Book 2)

by Fiona Miers

  “You are in love with her.”

  “Yes, I am,” Carson answered with confidence. “I am in love with Lizzie, and nothing on this earth can change my feelings for her. Of course, I would not expect you to understand how it feels to truly love someone. The only person you have ever truly loved was yourself.”

  Adrienne bit her quivering bottom lip. “Your words hurt me, Carson.”

  “Good. They were meant to,” Carson retorted and whirled around, hastily leaving the study.

  Carson rushed to the front door, and as he opened it, the rain poured down hard outside. His eye caught movement to his left and he noticed Lizzie in the far distance, making her way back to her house.

  “Lizzie!” he called out, running after her, but the heavy rain drowned out his voice.

  Carson continued to run after her, his hair sticking to his face. When he reached the hole in the wall, he climbed through it easily. Thank goodness, he and Edward had cleared the ivy and vines away. It was much easier to go through now.

  As he stepped onto the grass lawn of Woodlock Manor, he glanced around. Lizzie had changed directions and was now running towards the stables.

  “Lizzie!” he called out again and continued to run.

  He followed her to the stables and rushed inside. A shiver ran down his spine, He was completely drenched.

  “Lizzie?” he called out to her, gently this time.

  After a few moments of silence, Lizzie appeared from the shadows, also drenched to the bone. Her eyes were red, and her breathing was ragged.

  “What are you doing here?” Lizzie whispered.

  “I came to speak to you.”

  “Why? To ask me to stay away from you, and never to set foot at Ferngrove Manor again?” Lizzie answered, her voice breaking from the sadness obvious in her tone.

  “Why would I wish for you to stay away from me?” Carson asked with a furrowed brow.

  Lizzie wiped her cheek with her sleeve, although it didn’t dry her skin in the least, and shrugged her shoulders. “Adrienne informed me that was what you wanted.”

  “Please, Lizzie, you must not believe a single word my sister said,” Carson said and approached Lizzie. “I cannot imagine wanting you to never come near me. You are much too important to me.”

  She lifted her head and met his gaze directly. “I am?”

  “Of course,” Carson answered and took both her hands in his. “You are the most important person to me in the entire world.”

  Lizzie coughed softly, clearing her throat. “But I constantly hurt you by being selfish.”

  “Is that another one of Adrienne’s attempts to make you feel as though you are the one at fault?” Carson asked.

  Lizzie shook her head. “I do not understand.”

  Carson sighed. “My sister was jealous that my mother considered you more of a daughter to her than Adrienne. This is why she has been treating you in the manner she has, this entire time.”

  “Really?” Lizzie whispered.

  “I am truly sorry for my sister’s behaviour. I cannot begin to describe the sorrow it has caused my heart,” Carson said.

  Lizzie smiled as she slid her hands out of Carson’s and placed one hand against his chest, and the other she pressed lightly against his cheek. “You do not need to apologize for the wrongdoings and jealousy of your sister, Carson. You are not your sister. You have always treated me with respect and cared for me when I had no one else. You stood by me during the darkest times of my life, and you defended me without fail.”

  “It was the least I could do, and I would gladly do it all again for you,” Carson gazed down into her light eyes, his heart pounding in his chest, his body filling with desire.

  A desire he could no longer contain.

  And he had no reason any longer to even try.

  17

  A lump formed in Lizzie’s throat as she stared up at Carson. He was so close to her. She ran her fingers through his damp, tousled hair, her heart skipping a beat.

  Carson brought his own hands up and cradled her face, the touch chilly but so welcome. “You are beautiful, Lizzie, and I do apologise for waiting so long.”

  “Waiting so long for what?” Lizzie breathed.

  “To do this,” Carson whispered in return.

  He leaned in closer and their lips met in a tender and loving moment, his hands still cradling her face. Love and desire exploded within her, her heart pounding in her chest.

  Lizzie ran her fingers along Carson’s torso, her hands searching for the hem of his shirt tucked into his trousers. His skin was warm against her cold, shivering fingers, and he drew in a breath against her lips.

  “Sorry,” Lizzie whispered.

  “Allow me to warm you up, my lady,” Carson whispered, his eyes sparkling with charm and mischief.

  He scooped her up into his arms and moved to a more comfortable place in the stables. Carson lay Lizzie on the soft hay in the corner of an empty, and her heart continued to pound in her chest. Carson’s lips met hers once more as he lay beside her, his hands lovingly touching her body.

  Lizzie had waited her entire life to feel his hands touch her in such a manner, and even now, as it happened, she wanted to pinch herself in case it wasn’t real.

  Would she wake at any moment and find herself alone in her bedchamber?

  The rain continued to drum against the windows, but the horses in the stables were all peaceful and resting, not taking notice of the passion that had started to build between the two lovers who had finally found one another.

  Carson loosened the lace ribbon in the front of Lizzie’s dress and slid her sleeves down her shoulders and arms. Her skin was still cold to the touch, but within moments, it began to warm up.

  Lizzie’s hands moved to the front of his trousers and she managed to loosen them quickly, much to her surprise, and relief. It was dimly lit in the stables, which made the entire atmosphere both dreamlike, and difficult to see.

  Her hand grazed the skin below his navel and goose bumps formed on his skin. She smiled against his lips and opened her eyes. He followed her cues and slid his trousers down his legs.

  Carson’s hands made their way down her ample bosoms, around her narrow waist and found their way under the skirt of her dress. She shivered at the feeling of his skin pressing against her thighs and stared deeply into his green eyes.

  “Carson,” Lizzie whispered, her breathing laboured. “I must confess sometime to you.”

  “Is this the best time?” Carson grumbled.

  “I am certain that it is, since…” Her voice trailed and she glanced at him expectantly. “I am not pure.”

  Carson smiled at her and brushed a lock of wet hair from her face, “Nor am I.”

  “But it is very different for men and women,” Lizzie insisted.

  “My dearest Lizzie,” Carson assured her, “the only thing that matters to me is your heart, and that is the purest one I have ever known in my life.”

  Lizzie bit her bottom lip and glanced at him with the utmost gratitude. “I love you very much, Carson.”

  Carson smiled the corners of his eyes crinkling together. “I have loved you from the moment I saw you, and I love you even more now than I did in that moment.”

  Lizzie wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close to her, their lips finding their way to each other once more.

  Lizzie brought her leg up and rested her heel on the small of Carson’s back, allowing him access to her most private parts.

  Carson placed his hand on her thigh, and slowly pressed himself inside her. A soft moan escaped her throat. She had never felt happier. She had envisioned this very moment so many times that she had lost count.

  Carson kept his gaze on her, which only caused the desire to build up even faster. He pushed himself up, straightening his arms and kept a perfect rhythm, which caused Lizzie to moan softly at regular intervals.

  Lizzie raised her hands over her head and rested them on the soft hay, breathing in every sing
le nuance and every shred of pleasure she felt. She wished to remember this moment for as long as she lived.

  The smell of the hay below her, the scent of Carson – the man she had come to love and was unable to live without. She wished to remember the sound of the rain against the stable walls and the ragged breathing of Carson above her. The exact hue of green in his eyes, and the cleft in his chin, the laugh lines around his eyes and his mouth. The wayward strands of hair that fell forward and into his face, his thick eyebrows and the warmth of his breath against her neck as he moved closer to her. His lips grazed the soft skin of her neck, close to her throat and it overwhelmed her entirely.

  His rhythm started to increase, and Lizzie’s back arched. Her loins ached for him, and as if he had read her mind, he began to thrust himself deeper inside her, causing all her walls to come crashing down around her. He had brought her to the edge much faster than she’d thought possible.

  “Oh, God,” she panted.

  “You may call upon your God in church, my lady. Now, you belong only to me,” Carson whispered against her ear in a husky manner and shivers of delight consumed her.

  Carson gripped her hips and continued to thrust himself inside her, and her back arched once more. Her hands grasped handfuls of hay as loud moans formed in her throat.

  He groaned against her lips, and his body contracted as he emptied himself inside her, his form jerking and twitching. He collapsed beside her and they lay quietly on the hay, breathing raggedly.

  After a short while Lizzie turned to Carson and whispered, “You are right.”

  Carson’s brow furrowed and he glanced at her. “Regarding what?”

  “I do belong to you. In fact, I always have, and I always will.”

  “I didn’t mean it in any way that you are my property, my lady,” Carson clarified.

  “I am aware. You are too much of a gentleman to ever say such a thing to a woman,” Lizzie said sincerely, and a smirk formed on her lips. “Although, what you did to me was not very gentlemanly.”

  Carson chuckled and he rolled onto his side to face Lizzie. “If you wish, I can do it again, in a more gentlemanly manner.”

  “I would like that very much.” Lizzie chuckled as well.

  The rain continued to pour down as the sun was replaced by the moon, but even though she wanted to ignore time, Lizzie was well aware that she had been gone from the manor house for a long while. She didn’t wish for her brothers to worry over her.

  “We must go. We would not want Will and James to fret about me, or worse, assemble a search party to look for me,” Lizzie whispered as she ran her fingers down Carson’s chest.

  “Please, I wish only to hold you for a while longer,” Carson murmured beside her and wrapped his arms lovingly around her.

  A warm and welcoming feeling exploded in her heart as she melted into Carson, drifting off into a deep and peaceful slumber, having everything she had ever wanted in her arms.

  18

  Carson was awoken by the sound of violent coughing and he opened his eyes. Lizzie lay on her side, her back to him, and a sheath of perspiration on her skin.

  “Lizzie, are you all right?” he whispered as he turned to her.

  The moment he touched her skin, he realised there was something very wrong. Her skin was hot to the touch, and as she weakly turned her head towards him, he noticed how dark the skin under her eyes had become. “Are you feeling ill, my dear?”

  “I feel very warm, and not in a good way,” Lizzie answered.

  “I shall take you back to the manor now. I have kept you out here in the cold stables for long enough.”

  It took Carson a few moments to ensure both Lizzie and he were adequately dressed before he scooped her up into his arms and left the stables. Her body was warm against his chest as he proceeded to hurry back to Woodlock Manor. He banged on the door with his foot, and within moments the door was opened by a manservant.

  “Call His Grace and Will to the drawing room immediately,” Carson barked, and the manservant quickly obeyed.

  Carson continued down the hallway until he reached the drawing room. He entered and gently lay Lizzie on the long chaise. She weakly grabbed his hand and he clutched it tightly.

  “I am here, my love.”

  Within moments, both James and Will rushed into the room.

  “Carson, what is the matter?” the duke asked, but as he noticed a very pale Lizzie laying on the chaise, his eyes widened. “Lizzie!”

  Lizzie opened her eyes weakly and attempted a reassuring smile. James’s jaw clenched as he ran his fingers through Lizzie’s damp hair.

  “She has a fever,” the duke pointed out as he pressed his palm against her forehead. “She is burning to the touch.”

  “What happened?” Will inquired and glanced at Carson.

  “We were caught in the rain and took refuge in the stables.”

  “The entire day?” Will asked apprehensively.

  Carson lowered his gaze for a moment and said, “We didn’t realize how much time had passed. We both fell asleep and I awoke to her violent coughs. She was covered in a sheath of perspiration and feverish.”

  “William, call Hamilton to take the coach and fetch Dr. Ferguson. He must come at once,” James ordered and William nodded, leaving immediately.

  James turned to him. “Carson, would you be able to carry Lizzie upstairs to her bedchamber?”

  “Of course,” Carson nodded.

  “Good. I will call upon Frances to see to her until the physician arrives. Do not leave her side,” the duke ordered.

  “I do not intend to,” Carson stated and rose to his feet. He scooped Lizzie up in his arms once against and whispered. “We will ensure you are taken care of.”

  Carson held her tightly against his chest, her body curled up against him, shivering violently. He swiftly ascended the stairs and walked directly to Lizzie’s bedchamber. Frances and two maidservants joined him.

  Frances hurried out in front and opened the door for him. He stepped inside her chambers, the maidservants following closely behind him.

  A maid on their side of the bed peeled the blankets away, and Carson placed Lizzie gently on the mattress. He stepped away for a moment, allowing the maidservants to cover her with rags drenched in cool water. His heart broke as he watched her on the bed, her face pale and her body shivering.

  A short while later, Will entered with Dr. Ferguson, the physician, and Carson was asked to leave the chambers in order for the physician to examine Lizzie, in the presence of Frances, of course.

  It felt like hours to Carson while he and Will, along with Lady Emma, waited outside.

  Finally, the door opened and Dr. Ferguson appeared in the doorway with his medical bag. Will and Carson approached him, and Will asked, “How is she?”

  Dr. Ferguson adjusted his spectacles on his nose and spoke slowly. “Lizzie has pleurisy, as well as a high fever.”

  Carson bit his bottom lip and his jaw clenched. He was no stranger to pleurisy, as his father had contracted it, as well as Adrienne when she was a child. She had nearly lost her life due to it, and his father had.

  “My apologies, Dr. Ferguson, but what precisely is pleurisy?” Emma inquired.

  “It is a swelling of the lungs that causes coughing and shortness of breath. I have seen many patients with this condition. It seems as though Lizzie contracted the illness due to elongated exposure to the elements, especially the rain.”

  “And the mortality rate of this?” Emma inquired.

  Dr. Ferguson hesitated and glanced at Emma, which caused an unsettling feeling in the pit of Carson’s stomach. He knew only too well that it was high.

  “She requires rest. The cold rags on her arms and chest do help with the fever. I have instructed Frances to give Lizzie milkweed every few hours, as it eases her breathing difficulties, the pain in her chest, and it will lessen the inflammation.”

  The doctor turned to Will. “I am not certain whether my lord is open to leeches, as they
would also help to cleanse the blood.”

  As Carson was about to respond, Will interjected by shaking his head. “No leeches. She becomes easily light-headed, and it will only put extra risk on her life. It happened when she was younger, and we will not take that chance.”

  The doctor nodded. “Very well. I will return in a few days to examine her once more, to see if there is any improvement.”

  “And if there is not?” Carson insisted.

  “You can call upon me anytime,” Mr. Ferguson informed and quietly left.

  Carson ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and felt Will’s hand on his shoulder, offering him some comfort.

  “My sister is strong, Carson,” Will uttered. “Perhaps you and I could retreat to the drawing room.”

  Carson’s brow furrowed and he glanced at the closed door for a moment. “I promised her that I would not leave her side.”

  “She requires rest, and Frances is with her. Frances has looked after Lizzie many times in the past, and we trust her implicitly.”

  Carson nodded and followed Will to the upstairs drawing room. James was already there, pacing to and fro.

  “Lizzie has contracted pleurisy and a high fever. She has to take milkweed, which will ease her breathing and her pain, and the wet rags against her skin will certainly help with her fever,” Will informed. “She requires rest, and Dr. Ferguson will examine her again in a few days.”

  The duke nodded quietly and pursed his lips.

  “This is all my fault,” Carson admitted. “I was the one who kept her in the stables longer. Her illness would have been entirely avoided had I not been selfish and wished to keep her there.”

  “You are not at fault, Carson,” Will defended.

  “No, he is right. He was selfish and negligent with our sister,” James answered and glanced at Carson. “But I am certain that you meant no harm to her.”

  “Of course not,” Carson insisted and took a step forward. “I love Lizzie. I always have, and I would do anything in this world to ensure her safety. I am even willing to send for our family physician, but he would only be able to arrive in a day. It is quite a long journey. I am even willing to pay—”