“I know,” Meredith interrupted. And she did. But it didn’t make it any less painful. And she didn’t think she could face him any longer.
In a moment of vulnerability, she pushed back her chair and got to her feet. Then, her voice pained and distant, she spoke up, “I believe I shall retire to my chambers now. Thank you for your company.”
Ethan stirred, and for a fleeting moment, Meredith thought he might reach out to her. She almost wished he would as she moved to the door. But as she opened it and shut it behind her, a tragic reality set in. She knew he wasn’t going to chase after her. This wasn’t that kind of marriage, this wasn’t her fairytale dream of love. This was her reality.
CHAPTER9
Rain soaked Ethan’s frock coat as he exited the gated castle. He felt suffocated inside, and he needed to leave. His slicked-back hair was now disheveled and falling over his face messily, the black locks sticking to his forehead. He slid his hand into his pocket, his soaked fingers brushing against the crumpled vellum of Meredith’s note.
The mere thought of her seized his muscles with an icy grip, guilt stabbing at his conscience over and over. He had not intended to wound her so deeply. Only moments later did he realize how hurtful his words would have sounded to hear to anyone, let alone to a woman like Meredith, who seemed lost in her own world of romance and love.
“You’re a veritable fool,” he muttered to himself.
Why the devil do I care? We are to part soon anyways, and I won’t be seeing her again. Oh, for heaven’s sake.
His jaw set tightly, and his boots rooted to the cobblestones as he came to a sudden stop. He chuckled to himself in disbelief as he realized the implications. Yes, he felt guilty. Yes, he had been a blackguard. And yes, they would separate very soon. But he couldn’t stop himself. Over the past week, he found himself irresistibly drawn to her, unable to tear his gaze away whenever she was near. He was drawn to her silly little quirks, her passion for scandalous books, and her citrus scent that seemed to permeate his every thought. She was driving him mad.
Ever since their wedding night, he'd yearned to explore the soft allure of her form, from her full lips that perpetually beckoned, to the tantalizing length of her pale legs that he'd only seen once.
Blast the minx for tempting me. And damn me for wanting to see her.
He couldn’t resist. The image of her being disappointed and hurt was burned in his mind, and he knew he needed to make things right. Knowing he would be the cause of that smile would bring him so much joy.
“Regardless of how little time we have left together, I’ll be damned if I don’t make this next week the best of her life,” he muttered.
Whirling around, he threaded his way back over the garden shrubbery to avoid the risk of slipping on the slick garden walk. As he neared the entrance doors, he thrust them open forcefully. Perplexed housemaids stole glances, but he paid them little mind.
He raced up the imperial staircase, his grip on the railing whitening his knuckles as he strode purposefully in search of his wife, oblivious to his surroundings. He collided with his butler who promptly offered an apologetic bow.
“Ah, Stanley,” he stammered, his voice wavering, partially from the chill of the rain and partially from desperation. “Have you seen my wife? She seems to have…eluded me.”
Stanley stared at him with raised brows, but then quickly recovered. “I believe she retired to her chambers for the night, Your Grace.”
"Good man,” Ethan said with a curt nod. He continued along the hallway, his Hessians thudding against the floor as he hastened.
Finally, he reached her chamber. He paused, his heart pounding as he hesitated with one hand raised. A small part of him was advising against what he was about to do. That he could regret it the next day, the next week, the next year. But he did not care, not right now.
He knocked on the door, doubtful of his own intentions, and waited for a response.
* * *
Tears streamed down Meredith’s cheeks as she sat on the edge of her bed. Of course, he married her out of pity. This was a loveless marriage after all, and all hope of anything more was a foolish thought she had once tried to convince herself of. But she would not make that mistake again.
Turning away, she squeezed her eyes shut against her heartache, only to be startled by a soft knock on the door. It was so soft and faint, she was unsure as to whether she was imagining it.
Wrapping a shawl around her frame, her bare feet touched the wooden floor. She headed to the door, opening it just an inch to see who it was. Suddenly, the door was thrust open in desperation, leaving her vulnerable to the intruder. Her mouth dried, and her eyes widened once she saw Ethan standing before her. His frock coat was damp, and his hair, messy and uneven. A trail of water dripping from his skin and pooling at her doorway became a refuge for his coat that he let slip from his shoulders.
“Ethan?” she began, concern etched in her voice. “Are you…are you all right?”
She was interrupted at once as Ethan lunged forward, an arm possessively wrapping around her waist and a hand settling against her cheek. Suddenly, his lips claimed hers in a kiss, in a daring act that was unapologetic, desperate, and confusing. The rush of heat it sent through her was euphoric.
His lips, soft as velvet, tasted of an intoxicating blend of mint and tobacco, and as he deepened the kiss, his passion grew more insistent. He didn’t utter a word, the only sound coming from him a low groan.
He kicked the door shut behind him and lifted her into his arms, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as her gown shifted up, revealing her white stockings that had begun slipping down her thighs. Her hands moved to his neck, caressing his damp hair. A shudder passed through her as their bodies melded together, his wet clothing chilling her to the core. But it all disappeared the moment his hands rested on her rear and a new source of warmth flashed through her whole body, nestling in her lower stomach and demanding satisfaction.
As he carried her to the bed, he drew back his lips, giving her a chance to breathe. Her breathing was deep and her thoughts cloudy but she only wished he would continue with his passionate assault.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as if he was exhausted. He set her down on the featherbed.
