After seeing Emily to bed, Catherine found herself restless and unable to sleep. Her mind raced with thoughts of Edward, of the potential dangers lurking in the shadows, of her own conflicted feelings. Before she could talk herself out of it, she found herself outside Edward's private quarters, her heart beating wildly as she raised her hand to knock.
She wasn't sure why she was here. Was it jealousy? Protectiveness? Lust? All she knew was that she needed to see him, to speak to him.
The door swung open, revealing a surprised Edward. His hair was mussed, and he looked tired, clearly having been unable to sleep as well.
“Miss Winslow?” he said, his voice rough with surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Catherine took a deep breath. “My Lord, I... I needed to speak with you. May I come in?”
Edward hesitated for a moment before stepping aside. Once inside, Catherine turned to face him, suddenly unsure of what to say.
“I wanted to... that is, I hope the dinner went well,” she began awkwardly.
Edward ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “It was fine,” he said finally. “Though it is certainly not enough reason for you to come to my bedchamber in the middle of the night.”
Catherine felt her face flush. “I know,” she muttered. “I shouldn’t have. Forgive me.”
His voice interrupted her as she turned to leave. “You were right, you know.”
Catherine blinked in surprise and turned back to him. “Right about what?”
“About encouraging me to go to the ball, to reconnect with society,” Edward explained. “It was time to move on, to remember that there is a world beyond these walls and the ghosts that haunt my memory. Your presence here... it's reminded me that there's life outside of my own dark obsessions.”
Catherine’s heart raced at his words. “I am glad,” she said softly. “I only want what is best for you, Edward. For you and Emily. You must believe that I am only trying to protect you.”
Edward’s expression softened. “I know,” he murmured, taking a step closer to her. “And I am grateful for it, even if I do not always show it.”
The air between them seemed to crackle with tension. Catherine was acutely aware of Edward's proximity, of the warmth radiating from his body. Before she could think better of it, she found herself leaning toward him.
Then, suddenly, their lips met in a kiss that was passionate and desperate—neither of them truly expected it, butthey were unable to resist. Catherine’s hand fisted in Edward’s shirt as his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her even closer.
When they finally broke apart, both were breathing heavily. Edward leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed.
“This… it is impossible,” he murmured. “We are impossible. You know that, do you not?”
Catherine nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She knew that he was right—the differences in their stations, the complications of their positions… it could never work. And yet… she could not bring herself to pull away.
“We… we should stop,” Edward muttered, even as his hands tightened on her waist.
“We should,” Catherine agreed, her body pressing closer to his.
For an excruciating minute, neither of them moved. Then, their lips met again—the kiss deeper and far more urgent this time. Catherine’s hands moved from Edward’s shirt to tangle in his hair and pull him closer. Edward groaned softly, his own hands roaming her back, tracing the curve of her spine.
Without breaking the kiss, Edward began walking them backwards toward his bed. Catherine’s knees hit the edge, and she fell back onto the soft mattress, pulling Edward down with her. He braced himself above her, his eyes dark with desire as he gazed down at her.
“Catherine,” he murmured, his voice husky. “We shouldn’t…”
“I know,” she whispered, but her hands were already working at the buttons of his shirt.
Edward’s hands traveled down to cup her breasts before trailing a path down her waist. “We shouldn’t,” he repeated. “But I want to. God help me, I want you, Catherine.”
With a deep, guttural growl, Edward captured her lips again. His hands fumbled with the laces of her dress, loosening them just enough to expose the soft skin of her shoulders. Immediately his lips latched onto her milky skin, trailing a path along her jaw, down her neck and eliciting a soft, needy moan from Catherine.
Catherine arched into him, her body on fire wherever he touched her. She managed to push his shirt off his shoulders and ran her hands over the planes of his chest. Edward shuddered at her touch, his control visibly slipping.
Both of them breathed heavily, their clothes disheveled, and their hair mussed. Catherine’s dress was halfway undone, exposing the tops of her breasts while Edward’s shirt lay discarded on the floor.
His hand moved slowly, trailing a path up her creamy thigh to the warmth that exuded from her center. They were teetering on the edge, so close to the point of no return. Catherine could feel the hard length of Edward pressed against her thigh, and she ached to feel him closer, to join their bodies as completely as their hearts seemed to be.
