Page 17 of Beguiling the Duke
“The perfect pair,” he corrected, and kissed her again.
She sighed, nestling closer to him on the settee. “I must confess something to you, Matthew. When Alfred died...” Her voice caught, and she swallowed hard. “I was quite sure I would die of grief. The pain was unbearable. I never thought I could feel that depth of sorrow and survive.”
His heart ached for her. Gently, he stroked her hair, wordlessly offering comfort.
“It has frightened me, how I feel for you, and how quickly I felt it,” she admitted in a whisper. “I was terrified of opening my heart again, only to have it shattered once more.” Her eyes lifted to his, dark with remembered anguish. “But you are not Alfred. And I can’t spend the rest of my life in fear.”
Hope swelled in his chest, though he kept his expression tender and understanding. He would not press her, but let her speak in her own time.
“The time we spent together at St. Ervan’s home has opened my eyes. And my heart.” A fragile smile curved her lips. “You bring me joy, Matthew. And love. Not the wild, carefree love of youth, but something deeper. Something that will stand the test of time, I believe.”
He could not stop the smile that lit his face, filled with wonder and warmth. “As you do for me, Lizzie,” he said softly, cupping her cheek. “My love for you is eternal. As constant as the sunrise, as sure as the tides.”
He swept her into his arms, spinning her around until her delighted laughter filled the room. When he set her back on her feet, he kissed her again, deeply and passionately.
Her hands slid up his chest to twine around his neck, her body soft and pliant against his. Heat sparked between them, desire building with each caress of their tongues.
Breathless, Lizzie drew back. Her eyes were dark, pupils wide, a flush staining her cheeks. “Take me to bed, Matthew.”
His heart swelled at her quiet words, as did parts lower. He scooped her up into his arms, carrying her up the stairs to her bedchamber.
CHAPTER 10
Matthew set Lizzie down in the doorway of her bedchamber. The room was dim, lit only by the glow of embers in the fireplace. Lizzie made her way to a small table, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she lit several candles. Their warm, flickering glow bathed the space in an intimate atmosphere that seemed to envelop them like a protective embrace.
“Your bedchamber is lovely, Lizzie,” Matthew said, trying to ease the tension that hung heavy in the air.
“Thank you,” she responded with a small smile, her brown eyes meeting his blue ones, her gaze steady and unwavering. “It has been my sanctuary since… well, you know.”
Matthew nodded, unable to imagine the pain she had endured since the loss of her husband.
The flickers of candlelight danced across the room, casting a warm and inviting atmosphere that seemed to embrace Lizzie and Matthew as they stood facing each other. The tension between them was palpable, a heady mixture of anticipation and uncertainty that hung heavy in the air like a fragrant perfume.
“Your hand, Lady Elborough,” Matthew said gently, extending his own towards her with an air of reverence that belied the intensity of his desire.
“Of course, Your Grace,” Lizzie replied, allowing herself a small smile as she placed her delicate hand within his strong, yet tender grasp. As their fingers entwined, a thrilling shiver raced up her spine, a testament to the connection that had grown between them over these past weeks.
“Are you certain about this, Lizzie?” Matthew asked, his voice barely a whisper as he searched her eyes for any signs of doubt or hesitation. He had become acutely aware of the fragility of her heart, and the last thing he wanted was to cause her pain.
“More certain than I have ever been,” Lizzie answered without hesitation. Her gaze never wavered from his as she spoke, the sincerity of her words shining through the warmth in her brown eyes. “I know my heart, Matthew, and it tells me that this is right.”
“Thank God,” he said, a note of relief evident in his voice.
Slowly, almost reverently, Lizzie led Matthew towards the bed that dominated the room, with its elegant canopy and fine linens.
“Matthew,” Lizzie murmured, her voice barely audible above the soft rustling of their clothing. “I cannot thank you enough for your friendship and your understanding. You have shown me that the world is not as dark and lonely as I once believed.”
“Nor could I ever express my gratitude for the light you have brought into my life, dear Lizzie,” Matthew replied, his eyes never leaving hers.
Matthew raised his hand, fingers trembling slightly as they reached for the delicate tendril of ebony hair that had escaped from her bun. He brushed the strand of hair away from her face, his touch so light it was as if he feared she might break beneath his fingertips. With a tender smile, he leaned in, closing the distance between them until their lips met in a passionate kiss.
Their fingers continued to deftly work at the fastenings of each other’s garments, peeling away the layers that had separated them for too long. As the last remnants of clothing fell to the floor, they stood before one another, bared in both body and soul.
“Matthew,” she murmured, her eyes darkening with desire, “I yearn to know every part of you, to lose myself in you.”
He bent and drew the peak of her breast into his mouth, kneading her flesh with his tongue. His fingers toyed with her other breast, and she shivered. As much as he enjoyed exploring her body like this, his slow, deliberate pace was killing him.
Apparently, she felt the same. “I need you, Matthew.”