No, no. I am all wrong. I am not where I thought I was in the garden at all.
“Your Grace! Please, let me speak to you,” she shouted loudly. Thunder rumbled and she shuddered, stepping back.
Her stomach curdled and her teeth chatted. She would do anything to find him now, but without knowing how to find him, she felt lost, quite trapped in the darkness.
Her breath hitched in her throat as she tried to blink the raindrops out of her eyes.
“No,” she whispered to herself. What would happen to her now? Would she be trapped outside in this storm all night? Why had she insisted on coming outside?
She turned around, but her foot slipped on something. Was it wet sods of earth? Or something alive and moving?
“Ah!” She jumped back, yelping, and slipped into a great puddle. Falling, she was tipping toward the ground, about to injure herself and even fall into one of the vast holly bushes on the estate.
Then an arm came up around her waist.
CHAPTER 11
There were no words as Charity strained to listen through the darkness. The rain fell even harder now, drenching her through, as if her whole body had been plunged into a river. She did not think about the rain though, and she did not even think about the rumbling of thunder.
She thought of that arm and the heavy breathing.
He leaned down toward her, and that familiar scent returned.Sandalwood.
“Your Grace?” she whispered into the air.
“Don’t call me that.” His face must have been near to her own. She heard the words close, his breathing near too. One arm shifted to two arms, and she was lifted up, planted on her feet. He did not release her, but both arms wrapped around her waist,cocooning her against him. “Call me Seth,” he whispered, his lips beside her ear. “It’s my name, Charity. Call me Seth.”
Tongue-tied, she just stood there, her hands planted on his chest as his lips drifted from her ear to her temple. He moved the strands of hair back from her temple and kissed her forehead.
What does it mean? What does such a kiss mean?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, needing him to know this. “I did not think you would care. I did not realize. I’m sorry.”
“I am the one who should be sorry.” His voice took on that deep and husky note once again. Her eyes fluttered closed as she thought of that voice. Nothing had ever sounded so seductive to her before. If he just kept speaking, kept talking, she would hold onto him forever. Her hands curled around the lapels of his soaked tailcoat, holding him near. “I thrust you away from me, frightened by how much I wanted you.”
“Wanted me?” she repeated, her eyes opening as they latched onto these words.
His face moved near to hers. She could feel his breathing, his hot breath on her lips. She nearly leaned into him, waiting for that kiss.
“Desiredyou,” he corrected, choosing his words more carefully this time.
She shuddered, and it had nothing to do with the rain or the cold from the storm. It was a shiver of exhilaration that passed up her spine.
“God, Charity.” He whispered the words, his hands moving from her waist to her arms. He ran his fingers over her exposed arms, the bare touch making her just long for something firmer, the tingling spreading so far through her body that she felt a new wetness pooling between her legs. “You do not have to find a man to court.” His words were firmer this time.
His head moved against her own and he planted his lips to the curve of her neck. That open-mouthed kiss he planted there was much slower and stronger than before. Her fingers grasped at him, not wanting that kiss to end.
He lifted his head a little, making her whimper for that kiss again.
“I will marry you,” he murmured, that voice deeper than she had ever heard it.
She blinked in surprise. Was it possible? When she had first mooted the idea, she knew it was mad, but was it so mad now? Was it really so wild an idea?
“You will?” Her breath hitched and her hands shifted from his lapels to slipping beneath his jacket and running down the center of his chest. That lingering touch made him growl under his breath.
“I do not think I could watch you marry another. Not now. Not ever.” He moved his hands to her waist once more. “Let’s get you out of this rain,” he whispered. “Back into the house.” The thunder cracked overhead. “You must hate this. Out here in this rain, this storm. I know you hate it.”
“No, I don’t.” She realized it was true and held him still, preventing them from going anywhere. Out here, with him, she felt safe. She would usually be quivering by now, shaking in the thunder, curled up on the ground, but not now. “I am not so afraid of the storm tonight.”
