From a prompt on tumblr. Own nothing. Enjoy!
How dare he?
After all, who was Matthew Crawley? A simple solicitor? A man being handed what should be her inheritance on a golden platter, granted the keys to her kingdom with a smile and a masculine pat on the back?
A decidedly middle-class interloper who had the nerve to…
She shivered from soaked skin and irrational emotions, distant thunder barely registering in her otherwise occupied mind.
A rough sigh escaped her.
They're clearly going to push one of the daughters at me. They'd have fixed on that when they heard I was a bachelor.
And before they or you get any ideas, I will choose my own wife.
She should have felt nothing but relief at his assertion. God only knew that she shouldn't give a fig for whomever he chose to wed. Why should she? She would marry far above him, be wife to a titled gentleman respected in the finest circles.
She moaned audibly, hunching her shoulders as a shudder rocked her spine.
The rain dripped from her hair down her cheeks, her sopping hat discarded roughly by this point as the sudden cloudburst did nothing to cool the heated tumult growing relentlessly inside her.
Her hands clenched, grabbing wet fabric as her back pressed against the barely adequate shelter.
How dare he?
Did he really imagine that she—Lady Mary Crawley—would allow herself to be pushed on anyone, especially on the likes of him?
Especially…him….
How was this even happening?
Her muscles were tightening, flexing in manners unknown to her as her chest rose and fell rapidly. How could he rouse such a response from her when she cared nothing for the man?
Absolutely nothing for golden hair as wet as her own, woven tightly through her fingers to keep him as close as humanly possible.
Not a whit for cobalt eyes that nearly devoured her before his lips did just that in the midst of an apology, still claiming...marking…
Burning her.
How dare he kiss her like this…fiercely, possessively, until she just didn't care if her dress was soaked through and ruined, her hair disheveled by sheeting rain and searching hands?
Until she wanted nothing more than to meld into him completely in the same manner as their tongues and mouths were doing just now…wildly, deliciously.
God—this man!
How…dare…..