Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
C aroline barely had time to take a breath before Daniel slipped his arms around her waist, lifting her effortlessly. A startled gasp left her lips as he carried her deeper into the room, his movements decisive, unshakable. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing them in a world of flickering candlelight and the heady scent of pine and burning wood.
He swept her onto his bed, the feather mattress dipping beneath her weight. She had imagined this moment, dreamed of it in ways that left her body aching, but reality was so much more devastating. He stood over her, his storm-gray eyes dark and hungry, as if drinking in the sight of her alone could satisfy some deep, insatiable need.
“Daniel …” Her voice was barely a whisper.
He knelt beside her, one hand sliding into her hair, threading through the waves he had admired in silence for far too long. His other hand tugged at the ties of her nightgown, loosening them with infuriating slowness. The thin linen fell from her shoulders, pooling at her waist before he guided it down her hips, baring her completely to his gaze.
Caroline’s breath hitched. Heat flushed her skin at the raw reverence in his expression. He did not rush. He did not move to cover her. Instead, he studied her, as if committing every inch of her to memory. His fingers traced the slope of her collarbone, then lower, brushing over the swell of her breasts. She shivered.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough with restraint.
Then his mouth was on her. A kiss to her throat, lingering, savoring. Another along her shoulder, the scrape of his teeth sending sparks of sensation through her nerves. When he reached the peak of her breast, he circled her nipple with his tongue before drawing it into the heat of his mouth. Caroline arched with a sharp cry, her fingers sinking into his hair, her body trembling as he lavished her with slow, unrelenting attention.
His hands roamed lower, down her ribs, over the flat plane of her stomach. She gasped when he cupped her between her thighs, his fingers exploring her most intimate place with a touch both reverent and claiming.
She should have felt embarrassed, should have been shy—but the way he touched her, as if she were something precious, something to be cherished and devoured in equal measure, stripped her of every inhibition.
When he slipped a finger inside her, she moaned, her hips instinctively pressing into his palm. He groaned at her response, his mouth returning to her breast as he thrust deeper.
“So perfect,” he murmured, slipping a second finger inside her.
Caroline whimpered, her body stretching to accommodate him. His fingers moved with agonizing precision, curling, pressing into something that sent pleasure shattering through her nerves. Her nails bit into his shoulders.
“Daniel …”
“Yes?” His voice was deep, almost teasing, but there was an unmistakable strain in it.
She could not form words—only gasps, whimpers of desperate need. He thrust his fingers deeper, then added a third, stretching her, claiming her, and suddenly she shattered. Her body arched, her thighs clenching around his wrist as pleasure crashed over her, a sharp cry ripping from her throat. He did not stop. He coaxed every last tremor from her, watching her unravel beneath him with a look of pure masculine satisfaction.
Before she could recover, he lowered himself between her thighs. She barely had time to register his intent before his mouth was on her, his tongue parting her, stroking her with deliberate, unrelenting precision.
“Daniel—oh—” She could not breathe.
He groaned against her, as if tasting her was his sole purpose in life. His hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as he licked her over and over, dragging her closer and closer to the edge.
“I cannot get enough of you,” he murmured against her, the vibrations of his voice sending a fresh wave of pleasure rolling through her.
Her hands fisted in his hair, her body bowing beneath him as she came apart once more, her cries muffled only by the thick blankets beneath her. When she finally surfaced from the storm of sensation, Daniel was rising above her, shrugging off his shirt, unfastening his trousers with steady, unhurried movements.
She had known he was strong, had felt the power of his body each time he touched her—but now she saw him in full, and her breath caught. He was beautiful, all sculpted muscle and bronzed skin, his chest dusted with dark hair, leading down to the thick, rigid length of him.
She swallowed hard. A flicker of uncertainty passed through her—he was so large, and she …
He caught the look in her eyes, his gaze softening. Leaning down, he kissed her, slow and deep, as his hands skimmed over her body, soothing her nerves with touch alone.
“I will not hurt you,” he promised against her lips.
“I will make this good for you.”
She trusted him.
When he positioned himself between her thighs and began to press inside her, she gasped, her nails digging into his back. The pressure grew, a slow stretch that burned with both discomfort and something deeper, something overwhelming.
A sharp ache flared as he seated himself fully within her, his breath shuddering against her cheek. He groaned, his entire body taut with restraint.
“God, you are so tight,” he rasped.
Caroline whimpered, her thighs trembling around him. The pain was there, undeniable, but beneath it was something else—the delicious fullness of him, the heat of his body pressed so intimately against hers.
He kissed her deeply, his tongue stroking hers in time with the slow, measured movement of his hips. A careful retreat, a gentle thrust back in. Her body adjusted, the burn giving way to a strange, curling pleasure.
He moved again, deeper this time, and she gasped at the friction, at the way her body clenched around him instinctively.
“That’s it,” he murmured, voice thick with need. “Let me love you.”
The next thrust sent a shudder rolling through her, the pleasure mounting, sharper now, undeniable. He rocked into her, slow and steady at first, but soon his control frayed. His pace quickened, his groans vibrating against her throat as he drove them both higher, into a world of nothing but sensation.
Caroline cried out, her fingers clutching his shoulders as he sent her spiraling over the edge once more. He followed with a hoarse groan, his body tensing before he shuddered above her, his release spilling deep inside her.
As the world settled, he pressed soft kisses along her jaw, her lips, her collarbone, holding her close as they both caught their breath.
“You were incredible,” he murmured against her hair.
Caroline smiled, drowsy, sated. “So were you,” she whispered, curling into his side and falling asleep.
Caroline stirred, sensing warmth and movement. She was in someone’s arms. The scent of sandalwood and crisp linen surrounded her. Then she felt the softness of a bed beneath her, and her eyes fluttered open sleepily. She was in her bedchamber. Daniel, now fully dressed, his shoulders rigid with tension.
Her heart lurched, and she murmured, “You are leaving.”
You are leaving .
The quiet words came from behind him, laced with something raw, something unspoken. The room was dim, bathed in the soft glow of early morning light filtering through the parted curtains. The fire had burned low, the embers glowing faintly in the hearth. Daniel sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed, his valise packed and waiting.
Daniel closed his eyes for the briefest moment before turning.
Caroline sat upright in bed, the sheets pooled around her waist, her golden hair a riot of waves over her bare shoulders. There was sleep in her eyes, but also awareness. Understanding. A quiet kind of heartbreak that she was trying desperately to conceal.
“Yes,” he said, his voice rough.
She held his gaze for a moment longer before lowering it to her lap, her fingers twisting the coverlet. “I suppose I knew you would.” A small, uneven breath. “You made no promises.”
His stomach clenched.
“I made no promises,” he agreed, hating the words even as he said them.
Her throat moved as she swallowed. Then, with slow deliberation, Caroline lifted her chin and looked at him again. “I did not expect them, my lord.” Her lips curved into something that almost resembled a smile, but it did not reach her eyes. “I was fully aware of the risk I took.”
Daniel wanted to say something—anything—to ease the quiet pain in her voice, but he knew there was no comfort to offer. No words that could fix what this was. What it had always been.
And yet…
He stepped forward, drawn to her like a man stepping toward the edge of a precipice. He reached for her, cupping her face with both hands, brushing his thumbs over the soft skin of her cheeks.
Then he kissed her.
Not with the hunger that had consumed him in the conservatory. Not with the reckless passion that had burned between them in the darkness of the night. But with something slower. Deeper. Something that terrified him far more than desire.
Her lips parted on a breath, and he took it, claimed it, swallowed it like a man desperate for air. He kissed her again. And again. Letting the taste of her imprint itself onto his tongue, as if somehow that would be enough. As if somehow that would be enough to keep her with him.
But it wouldn’t.
With a shuddering breath, he forced himself to pull away.
Caroline’s lashes fluttered open, her gaze slightly dazed, her lips pink and bruised. For one impossible moment, he thought about staying. About throwing all logic and reason to the wind.
But then reality reasserted itself, and he stepped back.
She inhaled sharply, her hands tightening in the sheets as if to keep herself from reaching for him. He turned away, grabbing his valise, and without another word, he strode to the door.
He did not look back.
The air outside was sharp and biting, the pre-dawn sky painted in soft hues of blue and gray. Snow crunched beneath his boots as he made his way down the steps, the waiting carriage a dark silhouette against the pale landscape.
The groom dipped his head as Daniel approached. “Ready, my lord?”
He nodded and climbed inside. The door closed behind him with a soft thud, sealing him away from the house. From her.
The carriage jolted forward, the horses’ hooves clattering against the frozen ground.
He let out a slow breath, but the weight in his chest did not ease. With every turn of the wheels, every rhythmic clack against the snow-packed road, the crack inside him deepened. Daniel curled his hands into fists atop his thighs and closed his eyes.
And yet he could not shake the sound of her laughter. The way her eyes lit up when she spoke of her dreams. The warmth of her body curled against his in the middle of the night. Daniel blew out a slow breath, staring out the window at the snow-covered countryside rolling past. He would not look back. But his mind betrayed him. He saw her on the bed, the shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes, her hands gripping the edges of her sheet as if holding herself together. He saw the way her lips had trembled, the moment of weakness she had fought so valiantly to hide.
God, he had been a fool to touch her at all.
Daniel’s heart damn well pained him. His body was still taut with restraint, still aching for what he had left behind. He inhaled deeply, then released it in a slow, controlled breath.
I only knew her for eight bloody days .
It shouldn’t feel like this. It shouldn’t feel as if something inside him had been hollowed out and left empty.
It is just the wonder of Christmas. That is all.
Daniel closed his eyes and forced himself to believe it.
A warm house filled with music, the laughter of a family that loved each other unconditionally, the bright joy of a holiday he had long ago abandoned. It had only been that. The magic of it all. And Caroline… she had simply been part of that enchantment.
Nothing more.
He would return to his estate in Berkshire. He would stay away. And if the longing remained, if the ache did not fade, then he would understand what it truly was.
And if it did fade… then he would know it had only ever been an illusion.
Caroline curled into herself, hugging her pillow tightly as silent tears slid down her cheeks. Her chest ached, her heart squeezing painfully with every breath she took. She allowed herself this moment of grief, sobbing softly into the linen, muffling the sound so no one would hear her. Only when she heard the distant clatter of carriage wheels rolling away from the manor did she force herself to stop. Her breath hitched as she listened to the faint echoes of departure, each sound hammering home the painful truth.
The earl was gone, and he had deemed whatever lay between them unworthy of pursuit.
A deep breath shuddered through Caroline. Enough . There was no use crying over what had never been promised. She had always known he would leave. She had never expected him to stay. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she reached for the bell pull. Within minutes, a maid entered, her expression warm.
“Would you like a bath, miss?”
“Yes, please,” Caroline murmured.
The maid bobbed a curtsy before disappearing into the adjoining bathing chamber. Soon, the scent of roses and lavender filled the air, the delicate floral fragrance mingling with the rising steam curling through the dimly lit room. When the bath was ready, Caroline dismissed the maid and stepped into the deep copper tub. She lowered herself into the heated water with a sigh, closing her eyes as the warmth wrapped around her, soothing the tension in her limbs and dulling the ache between her thighs.
A blush crept up her skin at the memory of him, of the passion with which they had come together last night. She had never known such pleasure, such overwhelming desire. Caroline let her head fall back against the rim of the tub, her breath shaky as she recalled the heat of his touch, the possessive way his hands had gripped her hips, how he had taken his time unraveling her, making her his.
I am falling in love with you, Daniel... Did you fall a little for me as well?
The thought whispered through her mind, breaking her already fragile restraint. Her throat tightened, and she squeezed her eyes shut, but the truth crashed into her with all the force of a storm. She loved him.
It felt impossible—madness, really—but now she understood what Ester had meant when she had once confessed she had known, within days, that Edmond was the one for her. Caroline had thought it absurd at the time. But now… Now, she saw the possibilities with Daniel so clearly. Long walks in the woodland. Laughter and whispered secrets. Climbing trees and teasing one another like reckless fools. Sharing quiet, intimate mornings. Raising children. Loving and exploring life together.
A fresh wave of grief threatened to consume her, but she fought it, her fingers curling into fists beneath the surface of the water. How had she not anticipated this? How had she been so blind to how much she had given her heart to him?
Caroline slid down into the bath until the warm water covered her entire body, submerging her beneath its soothing embrace. She stayed under for a few long seconds, the silence pressing in around her, blocking out the ache in her chest. When she surfaced again, water streamed down her face, mingling with the last of her tears.
“No more tears,” she whispered, her voice unsteady but determined. “No more regrets. Not when the night was so beautiful, and I will have this memory forever.”
With that silent vow, she pushed herself upright, drained the bath, and reached for a drying cloth. She refused to wallow in misery. Not now. Not when there were people she loved downstairs, celebrating the warmth and joy of the season.
She rang for the maid again, allowed herself to be dressed in a soft winter gown, then smoothed her hands over the fabric and lifted her chin. A deep breath. And then, without another glance at the empty bed where he had once held her, she turned and made her way below stairs.
Caroline hugged her coat tightly to her chest as she walked outside, the crisp morning air chilling her skin. The world was quiet, the kind of stillness that came after fresh snowfall. The scent of pine and frost filled her lungs as she inhaled deeply, hoping the brisk air would clear the lingering ache in her chest. She had barely taken a few steps when she noticed a familiar figure walking toward her, bundled in a thick shawl and lined cloak.
Her mother. She was a plump woman with kind, knowing eyes and softly flushed cheeks from what had likely been a brisk morning walk through the snowy woodlands. Her breath misted in the air as she approached, her brow knitting in concern the moment she caught sight of Caroline’s face.
“You have been crying.”
Caroline stiffened, but then forced a smile, closing the distance between them. She slipped her hand into her mother’s, their fingers entwining as they often had when she was a child. “It is not worth mentioning,” she said lightly, hoping to dismiss the matter.
Her mother made a small, disbelieving sound and gently tugged her toward the lake. Caroline followed, her boots crunching over the frozen ground. When they reached the edge of the lake, she took in the sight before her and felt an odd pang in her heart. The ice was beginning to melt.
A week ago, it had been thick enough to hold the weight of dozens of skaters gliding across the surface, their laughter echoing through the valley. Now, small cracks spider-webbed through the remaining ice, the edges softening into water. The children would be disappointed.
“You will not distract me, my dear,” her mother murmured, her gaze gentle yet unwavering.
Caroline exhaled, staring at the lake instead of meeting her mother’s eyes.
“Does this sadness have anything to do with Lord Walcott?”
Her head snapped up. Shock fluttered through her chest. “Mama—”
Her mother’s lips twitched as she turned to face her. “Must you look so scandalized? I may not be as sharp as your Aunt Margaret, but I am not blind.”
Caroline swallowed, stunned by the declaration. “I—”
Her mother sighed, shaking her head as she looked out across the shimmering ice. “You are both so transparent in your feelings. The way he stared at you with such want made me blush several times. More than once, I nearly marched over to demand he marry you at once.”
A choking sound escaped Caroline, and she turned wide eyes on her mother, scandalized. “Mama!”
Her mother chuckled softly, though her expression remained thoughtful.
Caroline’s lips parted to deny it—to insist that there was nothing between her and Daniel, that what had happened was a fleeting moment, one with no promises attached—but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she dropped her gaze to the icy lake, twisting her fingers together inside her gloves.
Her mother once again sighed, the sound quiet and full of sadness. “The earl departed early this morning.”
Caroline closed her eyes briefly, then nodded. “Yes.”
“I see.”
They stood in silence for a long moment, the air between them filled with the distant sounds of the household stirring awake behind them. A flock of birds took flight from the nearby trees, their wings rustling against the pale sky.
“I wish,” her mother murmured at last, “that I had a good dowry for you.” Her eyes shone with quiet sorrow as she continued, “You have such wonderful connections, my darling. But it is not enough. Not always.”
She glanced back at the house, where her other daughters and son were undoubtedly still abed. “I fear for you, and for Temperance and Eliza, that you will never make good matches, that you will live the rest of your lives lonely.”
A hard lump formed in Caroline’s throat.
“I was fortunate,” her mother continued, her voice wistful. “Your father and I loved each other dearly. We had little wealth when we married, but we were happy before he went on to his rewards. One of my only wishes in life was for my children to have good marriages… to find that same happiness.”
Caroline swallowed past the tightness in her chest, but she couldn’t speak.
Her mother turned to her, searching her face. “Did you fall in love with Lord Walcott?”
Caroline exhaled shakily, her breath misting in the air. Yes .
He had made her feel alive, like she could do anything, be anything. In his arms, she had felt bold, beautiful, desired. She had felt something deeper than she had ever known before.
A small, trembling smile touched her lips. “Perhaps I did,” she admitted softly.
Her mother squeezed her fingers gently. “Then do not despair just yet, my dear. I know what I saw in his gaze. Life has a way of surprising us.”
Caroline inhaled deeply, blinking against the stinging in her eyes. She hoped her mother was right.