“We are not lacking in fairy godmother matchmakers at least,” Charlotte said as soon as Hannah’s footsteps on the stairs faded away.
Matthew snorted. “I suppose I feel a bit like Charles Perrault’s Cendrillon, although I must say a glass slipper sounds deuced uncomfortable.”
“Does that make me the prince?” Charlotte asked. “Because I also feel akin to Cendrillon. I may not be sweeping ashes and working as a servant, but you are saving me from a terrible fate.”
“You are freeing yourself,” Matthew corrected, leaning forward in his chair to frame her face with his hands. “You are neither a prince nor a princess but the ruler of your own destiny.”
Emotion rushed through Charlotte like a fast-moving river. She leaned a scant two inches forward, and once again their lips met. Headiness mixed with the already powerful swell, and Charlotte lost all sense of caution. She allowed the current to carry her as eddies of lust bubbled and frothed within.
Their kiss deepened, their mouths working against each other with such fury that their breaths soon became short gasps. Brilliant sensations cascaded through Charlotte like bright musical notes. She’d never felt so alive, so connected with her own body. She had never understood before how it could be an instrument of her own pleasure.
Yet even among the glorious symphony, an off note echoed deep inside her. One of worry. Of fear. And definitely of danger.
Charlotte eased back from Matthew. “But it is not only me involved in this plan. You are all risking yourselves for my safety. Every one of you.”
Matthew pushed her hair back, his fingers lingering to brush against her cheek. There was so much kindness in his touch, so much reverence that it almost brought tears springing to her eyes.
“It is a battle that I am very willing to fight,” Matthew said, his voice hoarse. “With the exception of Sophia and Hannah, each of us in this skirmish had previous dealings with Hawley. It was already our separate missions to stop him from wreaking harm from the shadows. You’ve only brought us together. And the Wick cousins are fierce. They have made it their life’s purpose to defend the weak against people like the viscount. You ask nothing of us that we do not wish to give.”
Charlotte reached out with her uninjured arm and pressed her palm against Matthew’s bicep. She could feel his strength, not just of his hard, unyielding muscles but of his spirit. He had the ferocity and loyalty of the fabled English lion… or maybe, more accurately, the tenacity of the Scottish wildcat. He did not flaunt his power—a power many overlooked—but it made it no less real.
Matthew gazed at her, his gray eyes awash with an intensity that seared her. He was a protector, but then, she also fought for her loved ones.
“I could never forgive myself if you are injured in this madcap plan of mine,” Charlotte said.
“It is not so madcap. After all, I am generally accustomed to breaking onto ships patrolled by the Royal Guards. Any adventure that does not involve flinging oneself through the air and landing on questionably sound slate or thatch is a well-planned one in my opinion.” A glimmer of a smile tugged at Matthew’s lips, and thatlittle bit of mirth swept inside Charlotte, rejuvenating her flagging courage.
“I am not sure. There may be rooftop jumping yet.” Charlotte paused to kiss Matthew’s cheek. “I wouldn’t mind sailing through the starry skies with you.”
Matthew released a soft chortle. “One rough landing on rotting reeds and grass will disabuse you of that notion.”
“Hmm,” Charlotte tapped her finger against Matthew’s chest as she made a show of considering his words. “I do suppose there is another kind of frolicking I would prefer to do with you.”
Her words triggered another splutter of laughter from Matthew. “I would vastly prefer that as well.”
“When this is over, we will need to arrange it,” Charlotte said, as that glorious, freeing emotion returned. Matthew made her happy in a way she had never expected to feel. She giggled. “You have turned me into a veritable minx, and I like it.”
“I do too,” Matthew said, his voice so wonderfully sonorous that it triggered a shiver of delight inside Charlotte.
She leaned forward and kissed him. His lips immediately softened, and within moments, she’d coaxed a deep moan from him. His arms wrapped around her, cradling her snugly against him. Their bodies began to move against each other, the rhythm echoing the pulsating need inside Charlotte. She poured her pent-up fears, longings, and even uncertainties into the embrace. For once, she didn’t fight or stifle the feelings brewing inside her. She let them flow, messy and uninhibited, and she knew with absolute clarity that Matthew did the same. There was a desperation and a wildness to their embrace, yet also a depth that both excited and calmed.
When they finally broke apart, panting for air, Charlotte gasped out, “We will defeat Hawley. For me. For you. For his other victims. I won’t let him hurt you again.”
“Nor will I let him bring his evilness into your life,” Matthew vowed.
Their mouths meshed again, their words devolving into groans of pleasure, yet still promises all the same. In the bliss surrounding them, a bright future seemed gloriously possible—even when it would appear utterly improbable in harsher light.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tension twisted Matthew’s insides into a veritable Gordian knot as he and Alexander climbed the steps to Charlotte’s familial home. Matthew hazarded a glance over at his friend who looked as grim as Matthew felt.
“I cannot believe we are about to forcibly insert ourselves into a dinner party consisting of my father and brother and your parents and sister.” Matthew, with Pan perched on his shoulder, paused on the top of the stairs to wait for Alexander, who was making his way more slowly as he used his cane and the railing for support.
“Neither can I, but it is integral to Charlotte’s plan.” Alexander joined Matthew but didn’t raise the door knocker just yet.
“Did we really need to bring Pan?” Matthew glanced up at the bird who’d begun to whistle innocently.
“The goal is to irritate Hawley as much as possible. Including Pan ensures that the dinner party will end in disaster without an official betrothal.” Alexander paused and then addressed the bird. “Isn’t that true?”
