I must beg your forgiveness.
Captain Wentworth is a total………………………………….
IDIOT? WICKHAM? Oh no, what have I done????
“It is all my fault,” he replied. “I should not have put you in such an uncomfortable situation.” Looking up at the sky, he noticed that the sun was nearly set. “Come, let us go inside for supper.”
His hands, as if of their own accord, lowered the neckline of her dress slightly so he could have access to her shoulder.
Scarlett’s scent was intoxicating. His lips began to roam other places: her nose, her ears, her neck.
Wentworth responded with equal fervor, barely able to rein in his emotions. His hands roamed up and down her back, and he pulled her in closer.
Wentworth sprinted back with his cravat soaked, to find that her eyes had not opened. “Scarlett,” he breathed, “You can’t leave me! Please!” He place the compress on her forehead and prayed that it would be enough to help.
Captain Wentworth could feel her form go limp in his arms. He panicked, afraid he had done something to hurt her. Gently lowering her to the ground, he ripped off a piece of his cravat and tore towards the pond, hoping to get water for a cold compress.