Lord Brightwater had stepped even closer to her at some point. They now stood only a breath away from one another. She looked up to see him staring down at her with such intensity.Lust glazed over his blue eyes.
“I…do not think you understand what you are asking.”
Disappointment was clear in his features, but he composed himself. “Do not complicate this, Miss Browning. It is as simple as it could be. Do you want to marry me?”
It was the sincerity in his question that caught Augusta off guard. He did not, in her estimation, appear to be blustering. If anything, he appeared to be holding back.
Would she ever be certain? She did not think so. At some point, she would have to simply accept his words and hope that they were true, would she not? And Reginald seemed so dedicated to the idea of Lord Brightwater being the right choice for her. Her brother had never once done anything against her better interests.
On paper, it was the right thing to do. And, if she was being honest with herself, standing here with his body so close to hers, the scent of him filling her lungs, the sight of his broad shoulders and his eyes bearing down on her, a fluttering in her stomach made her feel that it was right in more ways than pragmatism.
Still, the man deserved to know what he was getting into.
“Lord Brightwater, I am afraid that whatever image you have created of me is painted in too flattering a light.” She swallowed, unsure of how to continue. She’d never had to explain her spells to anyone but a few doctors. Even Reginald did not know much of her experience with them, not what it felt to go through one and come out the other side. “I have an ailment that you ought to know about before I give any answer.”
Curiously, Lord Brightwater did not appear surprised by her confession. Indeed, the man actually nodded with a crooked, sympathetic smile.
“I understand already. Your brother spoke quite openly about it.” He paused, looking around the garden in thought before returning his gaze to her. “Miss Browning, if I were to walk into a ballroom and lay bare the faults and ailments of everyone in attendance, I am certain we would all be astounded. Everyone has deigned to cover the worst parts of them, and yet you are rushing in to ensure that I do not make a choice in haste, to your own detriment. I have great admiration for such a sacrifice.”
Once again, he had painted her actions in only the most acceptable way possible. He truly must be in love, Augusta decided, if he could hear of her melancholia and spin it to be a virtue.
But if what he said was true, then he had spent some time knowing of her spells. He’d had opportunities to think over them, and to decide if he wanted to see the marriage through. And still, he stood here before her, proposing as though she were a diamond of the first water. It more than flattered her; in truth, it completely disarmed her. It felt as though the very ground beneath her feet were shifting, and with it, her mind.
She thought of Lord and Lady Wallingford, and the love that they shared, and imagined a world in which she, too, could have it.
It was that thought which sent her hurtling over the edge. The fluttering in her stomach increased to such a degree that she felt light in the head. This made it much easier to say the words that next escaped her.
“Yes, then. My answer is yes.”
The corners of Lord Brightwater’s mouth twitched, as though a smile had started and then stopped, so great was his shock at her answer. His eyes widened, then narrowed as he looked over her with a heat that made Augusta take a step back, only to find herself backed against the oak tree.
Lord Brightwater leaned down, bringing his mouth closer to hers. His movements were slow and lazy. She swallowed, knowing that whatever happened next, it was going to be very new, very frightening, and very exciting.
One of his hands went to cup the back of her neck. She gasped at the more intimate contact, then settled into his warm palm as he brought his lips to hers. At first, he merely brushed against them, the heat of his breath tingling against the burning nerves of her mouth. She found herself opening for him, tilting her head up to gain more friction against his lips.
He responded with a firmer kiss, insisting upon her lips, her tongue, her whole body as he pressed into her. Her breasts pushed into his chest, creating a pulsing between her legs that she had only ever felt before in her most shameful, private moments alone.
His other hand gripped her waist tightly, the grip of a man barely holding onto control. She wondered how he could have any control at all, when she had lost all of hers.
She held onto his biceps to steady herself, only to be thrown off-balance once more when his mouth left hers and dropped kisses along her jaw, then down her neck. Her sharp inhale sounded greatly like a whine.
Something about the sound affected Lord Brightwater. If he had been holding onto control before, he shed all of it now. With a primal grunt, he pressed his entire body flush with hers, pinning her to the tree. The hand at her waist dropped to her backside and gave a tight squeeze, which she found both humiliating and exhilarating.
His mouth returned to hers, though this time it was with complete abandon - open-mouthed, his tongue playing with her own. She felt devoured. And yet, somehow, it was stillnot enough.
Something hard pressed against her lower stomach. She knew what it was, had seen the medical drawings during her reading, but even in those shameful moments alone she had not imagined that she’d one day feel one pushing against her like this.
Of its own accord, one of her hands brushed down his chest and abdomen. Finally, she rested her palm against his hard length.
“God,” he breathed shakily, and he did not sound like himself. He sounded like an animal. She was shocked to find that she wanted to hear more of it. “You are going to kill me.”
Augusta understood precisely what he meant.
“I want a special license,” he said suddenly.
Augusta was so dazed, her mind so thick with wanting, that she could do nothing but nod. Whatever might get him back to kissing her, to touching her.
It did the trick; Lord Brightwater returned to kissing along her neck, pausing briefly at the space where her flesh met her neckline. Here, he stiffened. His hand left her backside and he stood up, stepping back from her slightly.
