Scandal in Spring (Wallflowers #4)(85)

Matthew bent his head to kiss the tear-slicked surface of her cheek. “Pen-knife,” he said succinctly.

Daisy’s eyes widened as she continued to stare at his wrist. “You managed to get a pen-knife out of your pocket and cut the ropes while floating down the creek in a s-sinking carriage?”

“It was a damn sight easier than goose-wrestling, let me tell you.”

A watery chuckle escaped her, but it quickly turned into another broken sob. Matthew caught the sound with his mouth, his lips caressing hers.

“I started to cut through the ties at the first sign of trouble,” he continued. “And I had a few minutes before the carriage rolled into the water.”

“Why didn’t the others help you?” Daisy asked angrily, scrubbing the sleeve of her gown over her dripping face.

“They were busy saving their own skins. Although,” Matthew added ruefully, “I would have thought I merited a little more importance than the horses. But by the time the carriage started moving down the current, my hands were free. Debris was knocking the vehicle into matchsticks. I jumped into the current and made it to the shore, but I was bit pummeled in the process. I was found by an old man who was out searching for his dog—he brought me to his cottage, where he and his wife took care of me. I lost consciousness and woke up a day and a half later. By that time they had heard of Westcliff’s search, and they went out to tell him where I was.”

“I thought you were gone,” Daisy said, her voice cracking. “I thought I would never see you again.”

“No, no…” Matthew smoothed her hair and kissed her cheeks, her eyes, her trembling lips. “I’ll always come back to you. I’m dependable, remember?”

“Yes. Except for the—” Daisy had to take an extra breath as she felt his mouth move down to her throat. “—the twenty years of your life before I met you, I’d say you’re so dependable you’re almost pre—” His tongue had dipped into the pulsing hollow at the base of her neck. “—predictable.”

“You probably have a few complaints about that little matter of my assumed identity and grand larceny conviction.” His exploring kisses moved up to the delicate line of her jaw, absorbing the vagrant tear.

“Oh, no,” Daisy said breathlessly. “I f-forgave you before I even knew what it was.”

“Sweet darling,” Matthew whispered, nuzzling the side of her face, caressing her with his mouth and hands. She held onto him blindly, unable to get close enough. His head drew back and he looked down at her with a searching gaze. “Now that the whole business has reared its ugly head, I’m going to have to clear my name. Will you wait for me, Daisy?”

“No.”

Still sniffling, she applied herself to unfastening the wooden buttons of his borrowed clothes.

“No?” Matthew half-smiled and looked down at her quizzically. “Have you decided I’m too much trouble?”

“I’ve decided life is too short—” Daisy grunted as she tugged at the coarse cloth of his shirt. “—to waste a single day of it. Blast these buttons—”

His hands covered hers, stilling their feverish plucking. “I don’t think your family is going to be enthusiastic about letting you marry a fugitive from justice.”

“My father would forgive you anything. Besides, you won’t be a fugitive forever. Your case will be overturned once the facts are made known.” Daisy pulled her hands free and clutched at him tightly. “Take me to Gretna Green,” she begged. “Tonight. It’s how my sister got married. And Evie too. Elopement is practically a wallflower tradition. Take me—”

“Shhh…” Matthew wrapped his arms around her, cradling her against his sturdy frame. “No more running,” he whispered. “I’m finally going to face my past. Although it would be a hell of a lot easier to solve my problems if that bastard Harry Waring hadn’t died.”

“There are still people who know what really happened,” Daisy said anxiously. “His friends. And the servant you mentioned. And—”

“Yes, I know. Let’s not talk about all of that right now. God knows we’ll have time aplenty in the coming days.”

“I want to marry you,” Daisy persisted. “Not later. Now. After what I’ve gone through…thinking you were gone forever…nothing else is important.” A little hiccup disrupted the last word.

Matthew smoothed her hair and smudged a drying tear-track with his thumb. “All right. All right. I’ll talk to your father. Don’t cry again. Daisy, don’t.”

But she couldn’t stop the fresh tears of relief that leaked from the outward corners of her eyes. A new trembling came from the marrow of her bones. The more she stiffened against it, the worse it became.

“Sweetheart, what is it?” He ran his hands over her shaking limbs.

“I’m so afraid.”

He made a low, involuntary sound and cradled her tightly, his lips moving over her cheeks with impassioned pressure. “Why, dearest love?”

“I’m afraid this is a dream. I’m afraid I’ll wake up and—” Another hiccup. “—and I’ll be alone again and I’ll find out you were never here and—”

“No, I’m here. I won’t leave.” He moved down to her throat, pulling the sides of her nightgown apart with slow deliberation. “Let me make you feel better, love, let me…” His hands were gentle on her body, soothing and distracting. As his palm slid over her limbs, his touch sent darts of heat through her, and a low moan broke from her lips.