“As I want you, my Celia. Forever and always.” He sealed the words with a kiss as he unbuttoned his falls, then gently slid her skirts up out of the way and settled between her legs. He paused and stared down at her. “I love you, Celia. You understand that—yes?”
Once more, she slid her hands up into his fashionably cropped hair and tangled her fingers in the thick silkiness. “I fear I love you too, Elias.” A sadness almost overpowered her, pushing her close to tears. “I am so very sorry.”
“Never be sorry, my precious one.” He nuzzled a tender kiss across her mouth. “Never,” he whispered, then gently rocked his hips forward and eased into her with such a wonderful fullness that she gasped.
She drew her legs up around him and hugged him tight, arching to meet him.
His teasing thrusts started slow, then gained in speed until reaching the perfect pounding that summoned the crashing wave of ecstasy back—even stronger than before. Giving herself fully to the blissful explosion, she bit her lip to keep from shouting. Elias buried his face in the curve of her neck and muffled his roar. They shuddered together, clinging to each other as the delight washed across them and left them gasping.
He nibbled kisses along her shoulder, neck, and mouth before rising and staring down at her with a solemn expression. “I will never leave you,” he said with a gruff softness. The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Not ever.”
Still buoyed by the warm glow, Celia managed a lazy smile. “Never say never, my lord. The future has yet to be written, and the authors of fate are sometimes cruel to lovers.”
He rolled and pulled her with him, tucking her into the crook of his arm and settling her head in the dip of his shoulder. “I shall begin writing our future tomorrow by applying for a special license so we can marry within days.”
The enormity of what he suggested lodged midway in her chest like a poorly swallowed bite of tough beef. If she married him without revealing the truth, how deeply would he hate her when he found out their marriage was void because she had lied?
“You know I have to return to Germany with Her Grace,” she reminded him. “I promised her.”
“We can keep your promise to her together.” He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “That way I can be the one to deal with any issues that might arise with the duke and Lady Cecilia should they choose to treat you ill.”
She cuddled closer and remained selfishly silent, knowing the right thing to do would be to tell him now. Tell him everything. Of course, not to put too fine a point on it, she should have told himbeforethey did what they just did. But after a lifetime of subterfuge and lies, she loathed the idea of losing this precious moment of closeness with Elias to the ugly truth. In fact, she could not bear it. But a successful way to keep the wool over his eyes currently escaped her.
“Are you all right, Celia?” His arm tightened around her. “You are not regretting what just happened?”
She rose and smiled down at him. “I promise you, I will never regret what just happened.”
But instead of smiling back at her, he drew his dark brows together in a worried scowl. “Some will say I married you because of your inheritance.” Before she could tell him that the long-tongued fools didn’t matter, he continued, “But I added a clause to the will, and Her Grace initialed it. The trust you inherit will always be yours. Set aside for you and our children, should something ever happen to me. I cannot touch a farthing of it, nor even sell so much as a mote of dust from any of your future properties.”
She stared at him, taken aback at what he had just confessed. “You did that because you feared the gossips?”
“I did it because I feared losing you.” He caressed her cheek. “I never want you to believe that my interest in you is because of your wealth.”
Now, she felt even worse about keeping her true identity from him. She pushed herself up and turned her back to him, unable to look him in the eyes. “Could you help me repair myself? With everyone else gone to their beds, I should go too. You know how the servants will talk. Nothing escapes them.”
“Quite right.” He sat up and worked on her laces, then gifted her with a tender kiss to her nape before doing up her buttons. “I will come around tomorrow and speak with Her Grace.” He hugged her back against his chest. “Have you any family I should meet with for their approval?”
She swallowed hard and struggled to control her tone, thankful that he couldn’t see her face, for she knew it would give her away. “I have no one other than Her Grace. You might say she is my only family.”
He rose and helped her to her feet, then pulled her into his arms and held her. After a long, heavy silence, he whispered into her hair, “What is it, Celia? Tell me what is troubling you.” He eased back a step and held her by the shoulders, gazing into her eyes as if trying to delve into her soul. “I am to be your husband soon. Let me vanquish the demons who are tormenting you.”
With her hands resting on his chest, she stretched up on tiptoes and kissed him. “You vanquished them by loving me, but you must give me the opportunity to grow accustomed to their absence and realize I can breathe freely once more.” The lie soured in the back of her throat and burned her conscience. She kissed him again. “I love you, Elias. You should leave first, so I might hurry up the stairs with as little notice as possible. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” He sorted his clothes, then kissed her long and slow before leaving the garden.
As she watched him go, her tears slipped free, cutting hot streams down her face. She had everything she wanted and yet she didn’t. All could be lost in the blink of an eye, and the stakes had just risen exponentially.
She hurried to the dining room doors and cocked her head, listening to the hallway to ensure that Elias was gone and Friedrich had gone downstairs.
With all quiet, she scurried up the steps and slipped into her mother’s rooms. Knowing Berta slept in the small bedroom adjoining Mama’s, Celia crept across the sitting room, using only the light of the night candle on the mantel to guide her. She eased open her mother’s bedroom door, slipped in, then quietly clicked it shut behind her.
“Celia?”
“Yes, Mama. I came to check on you. Are you all right?” Celia hurried to the bed and climbed up beside her mother just like she had done as a child when troubled by bad dreams.
Mama took her hand and gently squeezed it. “The question is—are you all right?”
“I am not sure.” Celia refused to lie to her observant mother, knowing it was futile. Mama always ferreted out the truth. “He means to apply for a special license and intends to visit tomorrow to speak to you about our marrying.” She pulled in a deep breath, then released it with a despairing hiss. “I did not tell him the truth about who I am.”
