Charles sat unmoving, just staring. Every inch of Priscilla’s felt as though she had just dived into cold water.
He placed his glass down on the side table and took a deep breath. “Why?”
Priscilla fought down the instinct to make a joke. A simple jest would turn him away from the truth.
Or she could be honest with the man she loved.
If she wanted him, truly wanted Charles, then she needed to accept that marriage would involve discomfort, difficult conversations, and moments of awkwardness.
If she really wanted him, she had to accept the good and the bad.
“I think I have been in love with you for a long time.”
Charles’s eyes widened. “You think?”
“I-I hardly knew it until you were engaged,” Priscilla said quietly. “But since then, I have realized that…yes. I am in love with you, Charles.”
The words hung in the air like butterflies hovering around them. There was still nausea in her stomach, and her hands did not know what to do with themselves, but as she sat and waited for Charles to respond, he did…nothing.
What was he going to say? That he loved her, that he hated her, that he did not care, that he could never have guessed?
Anything to break this terrifying silence as he just stared, soundlessly.
And then he sighed heavily. “Damnit, Priscilla, you should have said something sooner. Then we could have done something about it. As it is, I am engaged to Miss Lloyd.”
Was it – was it possible that he felt the same way? Did he mean he would rather be engaged to her? He had not said enough to be clear, and she could not think of a question to ask him.
No questions, then. Just action. She had been patient long enough, passive long enough. Sure this could still all be a terrible mistake, she leaned over, shaking slightly, and kissed him.
Charles responded with such ardor that he pinned her against the settee, his arms around her, his fingers clutching her, his lips passionately pressed against hers.
This was a dream, surely! Priscilla could hardly believe it, so lost in the moment, but it was real. Charles was kissing her, and with such desire that she had leaned back, and he was now on top of her, holding his weight on his elbows to prevent her from being crushed. The strength of his body, the hardness of his muscles, made her feel more alive than she ever had done. Every inch of her was crying out for him, and now his body was answering that call.
Eventually, the kiss ended, desperation for air only just surmounting their desperation for each other.
“Charles,” she whispered, eyes wide, staring up at the man she loved.
Hearing his name on her lips made him groan and kiss her even more passionately, his kisses trailing from her lips to her neck.
Priscilla’s eyes closed in adoration as she allowed bliss to overwhelm her. How was this happening? If she had known it was as simple as making herself vulnerable, she would have done it weeks ago!
Charles returned to her lips, unable to leave them alone, teasing them open and making Priscilla shudder as their tongues met.
“I knew it,” Priscilla said jerkily between their kisses. “I knew you must feel this way.”
He chuckled, stroking her cheek with his free hand. “Damnation, Priscilla, I didn’t – not before that damned bullfight! Why didn’t you tell me?”
She smiled and answered in the only way she knew how, by pulling him closer and kissing him, abandoning all thought of control and letting her desires free.
As he kissed her, his hand was not idle. It moved to her hips, pulling her closer, and Priscilla let out an instinctive moan of delight.
In an instant, he was gone.
Priscilla opened her eyes, hazy with love, to see Charles standing on the other side of the room. “What is wrong?”
His breathing was heavy, and he was looking away as he managed, “It is too late. I am…I am engaged to Miss Lloyd.”
Barely able to catch her own breath, she forced herself upright and tried to smooth down her gown. “Engagements can be broken.”
“No,” said Charles quickly. “I will not do that to her. She has done nothing wrong.”
“And neither have we,” said Priscilla quickly. What was happening? Was it possible the joy she had only just found was to be taken from her within the same minute of discovering it?
He sighed and turned to face her. Anguish covered his face. “Do you think I like this? Do you think I wish to marry a woman with whom I have nothing in common, no real affection for? But this is the situation I am in, Priscilla, and I know my duty. I will marry Miss Lloyd.”
Priscilla found herself on her feet. “So, because you made a mistake and refuse to rectify it, we all have to suffer?”
“You could have said something earlier! Why did you not admit your feelings to me, if you felt so strongly about them?” Charles dropped into another chair, his shirt still unbuttoned, but now there was a hardness to his breeches that Priscilla knew was all down to her.
Trying to keep her voice calm and not escalate their argument, she said, “I only realized when you became engaged. Of…of course, I would have said something if I had known before, but I did not – and neither, may I point out, did you!”
Charles put his head in his hands. It was awful seeing him like that. So hurt, so unable to do anything about the pain he felt – and yet Priscilla knew he could act. Miss Lloyd had seemed, at best, nonchalant about their engagement. Surely she would not be injured if Charles called it to a close?
But then, it was not her place to say that. If Miss Lloyd wanted to be released from their engagement, she would have to say. Just like Charles would.
“I do
