At last. She had escaped the suffocating congratulations of the guests staying at Downton and the smirking of her sister to the solitude of the small church in Downton Village, where tomorrow, she would become Mrs. Richard Carlisle. Mary wandered slowly down the aisle, her footsteps echoing around the deserted church. She felt sick with the thought that from tomorrow onwards, for the rest of her life, Richard could do whatever he liked with her. She would have to allow him intimacies when her heart ached for another. But Matthew had made his feelings perfectly clear; "We're cursed, you and I..." Mary slumped into the highly polished wooden pew, exhausted with pretending everything was alright, always putting on a brave face. The flower arrangements were laid out on the pew, ready to decorate the church for the wedding, for the happy couple. Mary trailed her delicate fingers over the silken petal of a white rose as she allowed a single tear to roll down her beautiful face. She knew she had to marry Richard to save her family, including Matthew, from sharing in her disgrace. She pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle the sob when she tortured herself with the same thought she tortured herself with everyday; if it wasn't for that one stupid, reckless moment with Pamuk, she and Matthew would be long married.
As she rose to leave, she wiped the tears from her face and shook herself. After all, she thought, perhaps she and Richard could be happy. To the outside world, it certainly seemed an advantageous marriage for both parties. As Mary tried to convince herself she could be content with Richard, she suddenly heard a noise in the corner of the church. Her heart began to pound; she had thought that she was all alone. She bravely marched up the aisle, plastering on her haughty exterior for this intruder, but let out an audible gasp when she saw that it was Matthew, looking at her with yearning in his piercing blue eyes.
Mary felt as though she couldn't bear to look at him, so she tried to march past him with as breezy a "Hello!" as she could muster, but she found herself prevented from doing so by Matthew's strong right arm clasping around her slender waist.
"Mary... please..." he begged, his sky blue eyes brimming with desire.
"Let go of me this instant! How dare you!" Mary did her best to be strong and push him away, but his arm curled around her felt so natural, so safe...so right.
She broke his hold and stepped backwards away from him.
"Mary..." He came towards her; in her panic to be away from him, she walked backwards until the stone wall of the church was pressed against her back, cooling her flustered body. He took advantage of her position, coming to press the whole length of his muscular body flush with hers. Matthew's eyes searched hers, the tension mounting every second. She could feel his hot breath on her face, her heart pounded erratically and she found she couldn't control her breathing, taking in gulps of air at intervals. He smiled as his gaze fell on her lips and they found themselves swaying, inconceivably, towards one another.
"No!" Mary cried. "I won't do this again, Matthew!" She tried to push him away with all her force, but he was too strong for her. He pinned her arms against the wall and growled in her ear,
"I will have you by the end of the night, Lady Mary."
She gasped at the insinuation and at the erotic images his words conjured to her mind. She could feel an unbearable, unquenchable heat pooling inside her and her knees buckled with unspent lust. She had a desire to tease him a little more though; how dare he presume that she wanted him! And on the day before her wedding to another man! Just when he was beginning an exploration of her neck with his velvet tongue, she pushed him and ran as fast as she could out of the church and into the woods surrounding the abbey.
Matthew stood for a moment in pure shock.
The anger he felt at her leaving quickly turned into raw lust; his blood was up and he needed to quench the raging fire now burning inside of him. He had watched as other men flirted with her, controlled his anger as they did so, even managing to be civil to Carlisle.
He was sick of always being kind, sweet, gentlemanly Matthew. His and Mary's encounters had always been so innocent, just a few stolen kisses, a couple of dances. He wanted to show Mary this other side to him; he wanted to make her moan and groan and scream with pleasure when he'd finished with her.
He ran after her, catching a glimpse of her flowing skirts going through the trees. She could hear him coming up behind her. She had no idea how fast he could run but she could hear his footsteps more loudly every second, leaves and twigs crunching and snapping beneath his feet. The pounding of her heart was becoming painful so she stopped abruptly and bent over, trying desperately to catch her breath.
Matthew found her in a matter of seconds and roughly pulled her up and around to face him.
"You can't run from me, Mary..."
They were both panting from their run and Mary's heaving chest was the final straw for Matthew. He grabbed her tightly to him and pressed his lips to hers in a white hot kiss of passion. She groaned softly into his mouth as his tongue thrust into hers. Her head was swimming as all rational thoughts left her. All she knew was she needed Matthew never to let her go. Matthew tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Her hands grabbed his hair as she pulled him closer and closer. No longer content just to kiss, Matthew's hands began exploring her body, stroking her breasts, her waist. She gave a small cry as he teased her breasts through the thin fabric of her dress. He bit her lower lip as he heard and felt her need growing. Matthew gave a growl of passion, picked her up and slammed her back against a nearby oak tree. As she was roughly thrust against the tree, Mary thought she might faint from the cascade of new sensations, from the pleasure his touches gave her. This was her Matthew, sweet, kind Matthew, dominating her and teasing her. She loved him, but she never in her wildest dreams imagined him being so strong and passionate. She unconsciously wrapped her legs tightly around his waist as they continued the kiss, blushing furiously as she felt a hard bulge growing against her centre. He began to rock against her, his every contact forcing short moans from her throat. Mary's moans spurred Matthew on as his hands delved into her soft, abundant hair, tearing the diamond clip from it, allowing her dark tresses to fall sensually over her shoulders and over his face. He looked at her, her eyes closed with pleasure, aroused, flushed and utterly undone. He smiled as he began stroking her legs, exploring her soft white thighs as she shuddered with delight under his skilful hands.
Just as Matthew though could control himself no longer, they heard a man's voice calling Mary's name.
They tore themselves away from each other, fearful that they had been discovered.
"MARY!" the voice shouted again.
"It's Richard!" Mary half gasped, half whispered to Matthew. "What are we going to do?... My hair!" she cried, as she realised their encounter had left her looking less than ladylike.
