Meet Me at Dawn

Chapter Twenty Nine

I'm back y'all. Sorry it's been so long. Life got in the way.

"Miss," the little voice rang inside my head. "Miss!" it became louder as someone shook me from my wonderful slumber. I slowly opened my eyes, squinting against the morning sun entering through the curtains. "Miss," my lady's maid whispered hurriedly, "you have slept far too long. The entire house party is gathering before their departure."

I propped myself up on my elbows briefly before letting myself fall back against the plush bedding. I did not wish to leave my bed at this particular moment. "Miss!" she said tersely, pulling the covers away from me. Reluctantly, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stretched my arms above my head. Belatedly, I noticed that my nightgown was backwards; my maid took care to not notice. I quickly pulled it over my head, and dressed in nothing but a thin chemise walked over to the vanity to begin my morning ablutions. The sun shone brighter this morning, the colors in my chambers appeared brighter than I had remembered from the day before, and the sounds of the birds outside rung musically.

When all was complete, I dressed quickly in a simple cotton walking dress and my maid dressed my hair in a loose chignon. My steps were light as I glided down the staircase, the same one I so worriedly sauntered down the night before. And there he was, awaiting me at the bottom. He appeared disinterested in his surroundings, intensely studying the shape of his fingernails or the way his signet ring glinted in the sunlight. I slowed as I reached the last few steps, hoping to catch him by surprise.

Sutherland attended to the appearance of his hands so vehemently I was able to come up behind him. I smiled as I tapped one of his shoulders. He immediately stiffened and I could hear his breath catch. Still I stood smiling waiting for him to turn. He did so quickly that I had not yet retracted my hand; he grasped my wrist almost unbearingly in a vice grip. I gasped slightly.

"Lud!" he exclaimed, "What are you thinking sneaking up on me?"

"Apologies," I said sheepishly as he released his grip. Sutherland took my hand in his and gently kissed the inside of my wrist, as if he could take away any and all of the pain he had caused. I allowed his ministrations before taking a step, closing the distance between us.

He stopped and looked down at me, his gaze as intense as it was the night before. I could sense that fire burning just beneath the surface, his hand burning my skin where he touched me. I could feel that all too familiar ember smoldering at my core. My pulse began to race as it rang in my ears; my breath came swift and shallow. I willed him to kiss me. I longed to feel the warmth of his lips upon mine and the velvety feel of his tongue as he traced my lips.

I had to be closer to him still. All but pressing myself against him, I stood on my slippered toes and pressed my lips to his. He immediately deepened the kiss, and I felt his tongue probe its entry into my mouth. My hands snaked their way up around his neck, fingers burying themselves in the curls at the nape of his neck. He growled deeply and I felt him pull me closer. I was going to lose myself in this man; our past grievances seemed trivial now.

A feminine throat clearing broke us apart. "I knew there was something wrong with you the minute you set foot on his estate," the voice exclaimed. Sutherland and I uncoupled immediately, cheeks aflame and chests heaving. Lud, I needed that man like I needed air. We stood apart still gazing at one another as the voice whined again. "You both act with such abandon; no wonder you are the black sheep of the ton.

Simultaneously we both looked towards the orator; it was none other than Abigail Harding. The twit. "Miss Harding," Sutherland began as I rolled my eyes towards the heavens, "do excuse us, we have an appointment to attend." He gasped my elbow and all but pushed me through the halls towards one of the salons, leaving Abigail looking like a fish, her mouth opening and closing. I took a sideways glance at Sutherland as he whisked me away from the harpy. He quirked a brow and grinned back at me.

"Would you rather we return and exchange more pleasantries with Miss Harding?"

"Not particularly," I mumbled as he opened a massive door into a private salon. This was Mayfield's private salon that was generally closed off to party guests. I wondered why Sutherland brought me here. "We have much to discuss before departing," he informed me as if he could read my mind.

"Oh?" I replied, wondering what exactly was up for discussion. Was it his intent to propose marriage once more? To discuss if I was traveling back with my parents or with my grandmother? I did not even know the answers to that.

"As you know, I gave you my word that I would wait until the end of the party for your answer. And now I've come to collect." He stood near the mantle, leaning against the shelving, hand running through his unruly mane. He appeared agitated. An unfamiliar facade for the man I knew. His eyes were silver and completely focused on me as I remained still at the doorway. I took a step toward him, unconsciously wanting to assuage his worry. I paused after a few steps when he held his hand up to stop me, shaking his head. "Please, my love," he started, "if you come any closer I won't be able to keep myself from you. And if that happens, I will ruin you for any other man." His gaze locked with mine, eyes steely and hungry.

"Kathryn, you must know by now how much I adore you. You occupy my every thought and concern. I search for a glimpse of you in every room I enter; I strain to hear your voice when you are across the room speaking to another."

His eyes were pleading now, willing me to understand him. "Will you accept my hand? Will you marry me?"

I loved him. I wanted him. He hurt me unwittingly, and there was no promise that he would never do so again. But he had changed, and so had I. I looked down at my hands, gripping the fabric of my skirts. "Yes," I whispered, so quietly I did not think that I even spoke.

Before I could glance up at him, his arms came around me. I felt his lips brush my temple, his heart pounding against my ear. His hand tilted my face upwards and he impatiently seized my mouth with his. It began so soft I hardly knew if he was kissing me at all; but the pressure grew as his hands moved to my neck. I opened for him wanting more of him and he greedily took all I had to offer.

Not before long he pulled away from me, leaving me bereft of his warmth, of his scent. "We shall leave together and head to Gretna Green."

"Mama will kill you," I said flatly, still trying to regain my breath. He chuckled at the thought.

"I will speak to your parents. No doubt they will be disappointed, but the sooner we are married the less the tongues will wag." He held me at arms length, running his hands down to meet mine. My stomach took this opportune time to grumble at its lack of food.

"Well then," he announced with a smile, "I suppose we should break fast before our departure."