“Don’t worry,” he said softly in her ear. “I am perfectly capable of sewing it back on. I am exceedingly skilled with a needle.”
Delighted by his response, she turned back to him with an arched brow. “What else are you talented at?”
“My pursuits are generally scholarly, but I am hoping that may be changing.” Matthew’s words were an endearing combination of bashfulness and flirtatiousness.
Charlotte discovered that her hands had steadied. This time she could have made short work of unbuttoning his waistcoat, but she drew out the process. Their breathing became increasingly ragged as they closely watched more and more of the white lawn of his shirt appearing. When his waistcoat hung open, Charlotte pushed back the layers of his outer garments and spread her hand over his chest. Only the thinnest of linen separated her palm from his flesh. She could feel his heat, the contours of his muscles, and the shallow dip and swell of his rib cage as he breathed. A marvelous, hot, slick emotion spiraled through her, and she felt almost as if she were spinning. She glanced upward to find him gazing downward, her own frenetic emotions reflected in his silvery eyes. The obsidian shards around his pupils glittered with intensity.
Their mouths crashed together. Want met want with an incendiary blast. If she’d felt caught in a whirl before, she was now being spun into the air, the tempest within and without. Beneath her fingers, she could feel the thud of his heart that matched the increasingly maddening tempo of her own. Their internal rhythm drove the kiss, and their upper bodies began to move in time with the wildness of their pounding blood.
They became lost in each other, their world concentrated down to the sliding of lips, the intertwining of eager tongues, the roving of hands. Bliss and magic. Wonder and delight. Passion and need.
They kissed until a loud—very loud—throat clearing, as if the creator of the noise had been making it for a while now and increasing the volume each time.
Charlotte jerked, but poor Matthew sprang. He leapt with the might of a cat, but unfortunately, not with its grace. His left knee whacked against the stone seat with a resounding crack. He bobbledand somehow managed not to pitch over the bench entirely. He did, however, thump back down on the marble slab surface with enough force that he emitted a rather painedooooof.
“Are you all right?” Charlotte asked.
“Aye.” Matthew had to audibly squeeze the word out, but he did not appear to be sorely injured.
In unison, Charlotte and Matthew slowly turned to face the throat clearer. Charlotte half hoped that Pan had learned how to make the human-like sound. Unfortunately, Charlotte’s gaze did not land on a certain glowering, lime-green parrot but rather on her brother, her decidedly uncomfortable-looking brother.
“I beg both of your pardons, but I tried opening and shutting the door with a good deal of enthusiasm.” Alexander seemed torn between amusement and embarrassment. “It seems that even several bangs were not enough to disturb your—erm… perhaps it would be most prudent if I just end the sentence there.”
“That would be for the best,” Charlotte said shortly as she struggled to find her own composure. At least Alexander did not appear outraged, nor had he devolved into overprotectiveness. For her own part, she felt terribly self-conscious but not guilty.
Alexander scratched his head with the hand not holding the handle of his cane. “After Hannah’s cryptic message last night, Tavish sent for me this morning. He said you’d been injured, Lottie, but that you were safe now.”
“That is correct,” Charlotte said primly. If Alexander wanted to skirt around any awkward conversation, she would gladly play along.
“Tavish also asked me to fetch the both of you. He thought it was best that we discuss as a group the full story of what led to last night’s adventures.” Alexander was still prattling, but he seemed to have regained some of his typical jovial equilibrium. “When Lottiewasn’t in her room, Hannah suggested that the two of you may have gone to the orangery to see Pan and Banshee, so I came here.”
“I—I… well… I—I.” Matthew stumbled incoherently over his words, and Charlotte wished she could grab his hand to soothe him. But given the circumstances, she was fairly certain it would have the exact opposite effect.
Alexander became uncharacteristically grave as he regarded them. “As I have told you both on separate occasions, I could not be happier than for a match between my best friend and my sister.”
The bubble of happiness that rose in Charlotte quickly burst upon his next words.
“But you must be cautious. Charlotte is as good as engaged to Lord Hawley, and until we extricate her from the impending betrothal, you must be very discreet. If the viscount learns about your mutual affection, he’ll devise the cruelest punishment possible.”
A chill ripped through Charlotte, shredding all the happiness dancing through her. Between the events of last night and this morning, she had somehow managed to expel Hawley from her mind. She hadn’t even thought of him when she’d rushed to meet Matthew. Considering she was not technically engaged and the proposed union was not her choice, she felt no remorse. But she did worry about the peril she’d unthinkingly unleashed.
“I promise nothing like this will happen again until we have everything properly sorted,” Matthew said quickly.
Although Charlotte knew that Matthew was making a prudent vow given the circumstances, she felt a keen sense of loss. She wanted to embrace Matthew again. To kiss him. To hold him. Perhaps to do even more—a more that she could not fully verbalize, but that she instinctually yearned for.
A congenial grin touched Alexander’s lips, and he looked morelike his usual self. “You shouldn’t refrain entirely. Just do not engage in too much exploration.”
Alexander paused for effect. “It would be very wise if you make sure in the future not to meet in a building comprised mostly of glass windows.”
“I shall endeavor to keep that in mind,” Charlotte promised, making her voice as light as her brother’s.
But despite her sibling’s attempt at levity, a heaviness now lay upon Charlotte’s spirits. She had allowed Matthew’s nighttime heroics to distract her from her own mission. Until she could irrevocably tear herself from Hawley’s grasp, she must remain on guard… and not just of her person but also of her heart. Even as that warning churned through her mind, she knew she would not be able to stay away from Matthew. Prudence be damned.
Chapter Twenty-One
Matthew sat stiffly in a silk-cushioned chair in Tavish’s favorite sitting room for entertaining guests. He wished he could draw some comfort from the familiar surroundings where he’d spent many agreeable hours discussing science.
Unfortunately, the insertion of Charlotte into another of Matthew’s haunts reinforced his sense that everything had changed. She had thoroughly and completely upended his entire existence.
