by Fiona Miers
Her hand grazed the skin below his navel and goose bumps formed on his skin. She smiled against his lips and opened her eyes. He followed her cues and slid his trousers down his legs.
Carson’s hands made their way down her ample bosoms, around her narrow waist and found their way under the skirt of her dress. She shivered at the feeling of his skin pressing against her thighs and stared deeply into his green eyes.
“Carson,” Lizzie whispered, her breathing laboured. “I must confess sometime to you.”
“Is this the best time?” Carson grumbled.
“I am certain that it is, since...” Her voice trailed and she glanced at him expectantly. “I am not pure.”
Carson smiled at her and brushed a lock of wet hair from her face, “Nor am I.”
“But it is very different for men and women,” Lizzie insisted.
“My dearest Lizzie,” Carson assured her, “the only thing that matters to me is your heart, and that is the purest one I have ever known in my life.”
Lizzie bit her bottom lip and glanced at him with the utmost gratitude. “I love you very much, Carson.”
Carson smiled the corners of his eyes crinkling together. “I have loved you from the moment I saw you, and I love you even more now than I did in that moment.”
Lizzie wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close to her, their lips finding their way to each other once more.
Lizzie brought her leg up and rested her heel on the small of Carson’s back, allowing him access to her most private parts.
Carson placed his hand on her thigh, and slowly pressed himself inside her. A soft moan escaped her throat. She had never felt happier. She had envisioned this very moment so many times that she had lost count.
Carson kept his gaze on her, which only caused the desire to build up even faster. He pushed himself up, straightening his arms and kept a perfect rhythm, which caused Lizzie to moan softly at regular intervals.
Lizzie raised her hands over her head and rested them on the soft hay, breathing in every single nuance and every shred of pleasure she felt. She wished to remember this moment for as long as she lived.
The smell of the hay below her, the scent of Carson – the man she had come to love and was unable to live without. She wished to remember the sound of the rain against the stable walls and the ragged breathing of Carson above her. The exact hue of green in his eyes, and the cleft in his chin, the laugh lines around his eyes and his mouth. The wayward strands of hair that fell forward and into his face, his thick eyebrows and the warmth of his breath against her neck as he moved closer to her. His lips grazed the soft skin of her neck, close to her throat and it overwhelmed her entirely.
His rhythm started to increase, and Lizzie’s back arched. Her loins ached for him, and as if he had read her mind, he began to thrust himself deeper inside her, causing all her walls to come crashing down around her. He had brought her to the edge much faster than she’d thought possible.
“Oh, God,” she panted.
“You may call upon your God in church, my lady. Now, you belong only to me,” Carson whispered against her ear in a husky manner and shivers of delight consumed her.
Carson gripped her hips and continued to thrust himself inside her, and her back arched once more. Her hands grasped handfuls of hay as loud moans formed in her throat.
He groaned against her lips, and his body contracted as he emptied himself inside her, his form jerking and twitching. He collapsed beside her and they lay quietly on the hay, breathing raggedly.
After a short while Lizzie turned to Carson and whispered, “You are right.”
Carson’s brow furrowed and he glanced at her. “Regarding what?”
“I do belong to you. In fact, I always have, and I always will.”
“I didn’t mean it in any way that you are my property, my lady,” Carson clarified.
“I am aware. You are too much of a gentleman to ever say such a thing to a woman,” Lizzie said sincerely, and a smirk formed on her lips. “Although, what you did to me was not very gentlemanly.”
Carson chuckled and he rolled onto his side to face Lizzie. “If you wish, I can do it again, in a more gentlemanly manner.”
“I would like that very much.” Lizzie chuckled as well.
THE RAIN CONTINUED to pour down as the sun was replaced by the moon, but even though she wanted to ignore time, Lizzie was well aware that she had been gone from the manor house for a long while. She didn’t wish for her brothers to worry over her.
“We must go. We would not want Will and James to fret about me, or worse, assemble a search party to look for me,” Lizzie whispered as she ran her fingers down Carson’s chest.
“Please, I wish only to hold you for a while longer,” Carson murmured beside her and wrapped his arms lovingly around her.
A warm and welcoming feeling exploded in her heart as she melted into Carson, drifting off into a deep and peaceful slumber, having everything she had ever wanted in her arms.
Chapter Eighteen
Carson was awoken by the sound of violent coughing and he opened his eyes. Lizzie lay on her side, her back to him, and a sheath of perspiration on her skin.
“Lizzie, are you all right?” he whispered as he turned to her.
The moment he touched her skin, he realised there was something very wrong. Her skin was hot to the touch, and as she weakly turned her head towards him, he noticed how dark the skin under her eyes had become. “Are you feeling ill, my dear?”
“I feel very warm, and not in a good way,” Lizzie answered.
“I shall take you back to the manor now. I have kept you out here in the cold stables for long enough.”
It took Carson a few moments to ensure both Lizzie and he were adequately dressed before he scooped her up into his arms and left the stables. Her body was warm against his chest as he proceeded to hurry back to Woodlock Manor. He banged on the door with his foot, and within moments the door was opened by a manservant.
“Call His Grace and Will to the drawing room immediately,” Carson barked, and the manservant quickly obeyed.
Carson continued down the hallway until he reached the drawing room. He entered and gently lay Lizzie on the long chaise. She weakly grabbed his hand and he clutched it tightly.
“I am here, my love.”
Within moments, both James and Will rushed into the room.
“Carson, what is the matter?” the duke asked, but as he noticed a very pale Lizzie laying on the chaise, his eyes widened. “Lizzie!”
Lizzie opened her eyes weakly and attempted a reassuring smile. James’s jaw clenched as he ran his fingers through Lizzie’s damp hair.
“She has a fever,” the duke pointed out as he pressed his palm against her forehead. “She is burning to the touch.”
“What happened?” Will inquired and glanced at Carson.
“We were caught in the rain and took refuge in the stables.”
“The entire day?” Will asked apprehensively.
Carson lowered his gaze for a moment and said, “We didn’t realize how much time had passed. We both fell asleep and I awoke to her violent coughs. She was covered in a sheath of perspiration and feverish.”
“William, call Hamilton to take the coach and fetch Dr. Ferguson. He must come at once,” James ordered and William nodded, leaving immediately.
James turned to him. “Carson, would you be able to carry Lizzie upstairs to her bedchamber?”
“Of course,” Carson nodded.
“Good. I will call upon Frances to see to her until the physician arrives. Do not leave her side,” the duke ordered.
“I do not intend to,” Carson stated and rose to his feet. He scooped Lizzie up in his arms once against and whispered. “We will ensure you are taken care of.”
Carson held her tightly against his chest, her body curled up against him, shivering violently. He swiftly ascended the stairs and walked directly to Lizzie’s bedchamber. Frances and two maidservants joined
him.
Frances hurried out in front and opened the door for him. He stepped inside her chambers, the maidservants following closely behind him.
A maid on their side of the bed peeled the blankets away, and Carson placed Lizzie gently on the mattress. He stepped away for a moment, allowing the maidservants to cover her with rags drenched in cool water. His heart broke as he watched her on the bed, her face pale and her body shivering.
A short while later, Will entered with Dr. Ferguson, the physician, and Carson was asked to leave the chambers in order for the physician to examine Lizzie, in the presence of Frances, of course.
It felt like hours to Carson while he and Will, along with Lady Emma, waited outside.
Finally, the door opened and Dr. Ferguson appeared in the doorway with his medical bag. Will and Carson approached him, and Will asked, “How is she?”
Dr. Ferguson adjusted his spectacles on his nose and spoke slowly. “Lizzie has pleurisy, as well as a high fever.”
Carson bit his bottom lip and his jaw clenched. He was no stranger to pleurisy, as his father had contracted it, as well as Adrienne when she was a child. She had nearly lost her life due to it, and his father had.
“My apologies, Dr. Ferguson, but what precisely is pleurisy?” Emma inquired.
“It is a swelling of the lungs that causes coughing and shortness of breath. I have seen many patients with this condition. It seems as though Lizzie contracted the illness due to elongated exposure to the elements, especially the rain.”
“And the mortality rate of this?” Emma inquired.
Dr. Ferguson hesitated and glanced at Emma, which caused an unsettling feeling in the pit of Carson’s stomach. He knew only too well that it was high.
“She requires rest. The cold rags on her arms and chest do help with the fever. I have instructed Frances to give Lizzie milkweed every few hours, as it eases her breathing difficulties, the pain in her chest, and it will lessen the inflammation.”
The doctor turned to Will. “I am not certain whether my lord is open to leeches, as they would also help to cleanse the blood.”
As Carson was about to respond, Will interjected by shaking his head. “No leeches. She becomes easily light-headed, and it will only put extra risk on her life. It happened when she was younger, and we will not take that chance.”
The doctor nodded. “Very well. I will return in a few days to examine her once more, to see if there is any improvement.”
“And if there is not?” Carson insisted.
“You can call upon me anytime,” Mr. Ferguson informed and quietly left.
Carson ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and felt Will’s hand on his shoulder, offering him some comfort.
“My sister is strong, Carson,” Will uttered. “Perhaps you and I could retreat to the drawing room.”
Carson’s brow furrowed and he glanced at the closed door for a moment. “I promised her that I would not leave her side.”
“She requires rest, and Frances is with her. Frances has looked after Lizzie many times in the past, and we trust her implicitly.”
Carson nodded and followed Will to the upstairs drawing room. James was already there, pacing to and fro.
“Lizzie has contracted pleurisy and a high fever. She has to take milkweed, which will ease her breathing and her pain, and the wet rags against her skin will certainly help with her fever,” Will informed. “She requires rest, and Dr. Ferguson will examine her again in a few days.”
The duke nodded quietly and pursed his lips.
“This is all my fault,” Carson admitted. “I was the one who kept her in the stables longer. Her illness would have been entirely avoided had I not been selfish and wished to keep her there.”
“You are not at fault, Carson,” Will defended.
“No, he is right. He was selfish and negligent with our sister,” James answered and glanced at Carson. “But I am certain that you meant no harm to her.”
“Of course not,” Carson insisted and took a step forward. “I love Lizzie. I always have, and I would do anything in this world to ensure her safety. I am even willing to send for our family physician, but he would only be able to arrive in a day. It is quite a long journey. I am even willing to pay—”
“There is no need to prove your loyalty to Lizzie, we are already aware of it,” the duke interjected as he raised his hand.
“You are?”
“Indeed. You have been a devoted friend for as long as you have known her. You have defended her, consoled her, and kept her safe through it all,” James answered. “And for that, we cannot express how grateful we are to you.”
Carson nodded quietly and his jaw clenched. “I love her, so it is only natural. I’ve always felt that I wasn’t good enough for her, and it stopped me from admitting my feelings to her, but it didn’t stop me from being someone on whom she could depend.”
“You never have to feel that way ever again, Carson. You are family. You always have been and always will be,” Will stated as he approached Carson and embraced his friend.
“Thank you both,” Carson replied with gratitude. “Your words mean the world to me.”
“There is however, another matter we probably need to discuss,” James said.
“Anything I can do to assist?” Carson asked.
“What are your intentions toward our sister?”
“To love her, to marry her, and to make her as happy as she possibly can be,” Carson answered without even a moment’s hesitation. “I wish to spend every waking moment with her, and every other moment beside her. I will continue to protect her, defend her, and ensure that she is the best version of herself she possibly can be. I wish to build a home with her at Ferngrove and have a family that I am proud of. I wish to grow old with her and die lying in her arms.”
Will and James exchanged satisfied glances and the duke uttered, “Spoken like a true Royal.”
Carson frowned and he glanced at Will. “How long have you known?”
“A few years, but it doesn’t change a thing, let me assure you. You will always remain the man you are,” Will said with a shrug. “At least you will to me.”
“Does Lizzie know?” Carson asked.
“Perhaps you can speak to her when she is better, but I can already assure you it won’t matter to her,” Will answered, then said with a smirk. “Although I never imagined that one day she would outrank us.”
“Ranks and titles don’t mean a thing if you don’t behave accordingly, and you, Carson, deserve to carry that title with pride,” James said warmly. “And it would give me tremendous pride to have you as part of our family. Officially, of course.”
Carson smiled gratefully and lowered his gaze. “Thank you, but it is I who am honoured to have you both think so highly of me.”
After all these years of feeling sub-standard, it seemed like everything was coming full circle.
A FEW NIGHTS LATER, Carson finally felt her stir. His entire world seemed to stop spinning as her hand moved from under his and he glanced at her face.
“My dearest Lizzie. Can you hear me?” he whispered.
“Carson?” she mumbled and tiredly opened her eyes.
Carson shifted closer to her and a relieved smile formed on his lips. “I am here.”
“It is cold in here,” she mumbled. “Can you light the hearth?”
“Perhaps I can offer a better solution,” he suggested.
Carson slowly climbed in beside her in bed and held her close to him, as he had in the stables. Only this time, he was very careful how he was holding her. Her skin still burned under his touch, despite her words insisting she was cold. Her scalp was damp, causing small tendrils of her hair to stick against her hairline.
Her cheeks were still pale as he kissed her forehead and rested his head against the pillow.
“This is my fault. I should have taken you home when you told me to. I only wished to have you to myself for a while longer. If something were to happen to you, it w
ould be the end of me,” he whispered, but Lizzie didn’t respond.
Carson glanced down and noticed she had fallen asleep once more, as she had been doing for a few days now. She slipped in and out of consciousness often, and when she did respond, her words slurred and were incoherent at times. Carson feared for the worst as her body became limp, but her laboured breathing indicated that she was still alive. And so did, of course, her heart beating steadily in her chest.
“It may not be Spring yet, my lady, but I will gladly marry you,” Carson whispered as he stroked her hand. “All I ask of you is to get better.”
As loud breath expelled from Lizzie’s lips and a quiet whisper filled the air. Simple words that carried the weight of Carson’s entire world.
Simple words that filled him with a lifetime of hope.
“For you, anything.”
Chapter Nineteen
After nearly a fortnight of being bedridden, her maidservants entering with cold rags to place upon her body, and many nightmares that plagued her fragile mind, Lizzie’s fever started to subside. Episodes of delirium had occurred quite often, and she only wished for it to end.
Luckily, it did.
Lizzie opened her eyes, uncertain of which day it was, and glanced at the beams of sunlight that broke through the small gaps in the two curtains. Her head still ached, and she recalled numerous instances where Emma and William had visited her, as well as James.
She had not recalled seeing Kitty, but if she had not visited, Lizzie would certainly not hold it against her. The duchess was heavy with child and she didn’t wish to spread her illness to the duchess and cause any harm to the unborn child.
She also recalled Carson being there most times and that he had held onto her hand, speaking in a low voice. His words had soothed her mind and soul, and in a manner, it had helped her through the worst of her illness.
Lizzie turned her head and a smile formed on her lips as she noticed Carson sitting beside her bed, peacefully asleep in the chair, his hand still over hers. She moved her hand slowly away, and his gripped hers tightly.
