It did not take Elizabeth long to arrive at his estate after he had send her his calling card. He had visited many bookshops in London, but not all of them. Yet he had decided to go to the one near the Brompton estate and hoped he might see her. He had not wanted to see Andrew, for he would not know how to explain why he was in that particular bookshop.

But he had been in luck. The person he wanted see, had come, and the person he did not want to see, had not come.

He led Elizabeth into the parlour, where he had prepared two glasses and a bottle of wine.

"You truly mean for a celebration," she said with a smile. He filled both glasses and gave her one, taking the other for himself.

"I believe I deserve it, no?"

She nodded her head, her beautiful green eyes on him. "I believe you do, yes."

They lifted their glasses, then took a sip of the cold and floral flavour of the white wine.

"So what will you do with your newly gained fame?" she asked while she took a seat on the nearest chair.

He shook his head. "I do not know yet. I have received an offer to write a book about a touring play and it is quite attractive."

Elizabeth's face suddenly changed into one of disappointment and pain. William had not expected she would be happy to see him go again, but he had also not expected she would want him to stay. Did she want him to stay?

He mentally shook his head. Of course she did not. She did not trust him and she wanted to remain friends. It did not bother her where he went to.

Right?

"But I am not certain yet if I will accept the offer," he added quickly. Her face showed a bit of relief, but she was not completely satisfied yet.

Did he just spoke those words to please her? True, he was not yet certain if he would accept, but had not planned on telling her that. Yet he did without thinking. Did he say that just to see the disappointment disappear from her face?

He walked to the chair next to her and sat down on it, his body facing her. "Do you want me to stay?" he found himself asking.

She looked at him with a surprised look. "You do not have to ask me. You ought to ask your family, and yourself."

"But I want to know if you want me to stay."

She seemed to struggle with herself, opening her mouth and closing it again, looking away from him and back at him, lifting a hand and then dropping it again. Eventually she said: "I like spending time with you."

So she wanted him to stay? "So you want me to stay?"

Did he sound too hopeful? Should he be hopeful? Was it not him who told himself to not trust her? Did that not also mean he should not bother about her?

Yet he knew he could not deny that she was the only person he was truly bothered about. Her opinion meant most to him – mayhap even more than his own. And if she told him to stay, he knew he would eventually agree with her and stay. But why did she have such an influence on him if he knew he should not be bothered about her?

Was it because he had finally realized that she had not lied to him since he had come back? Everything she had said seemed genuine, and when he did not believe her, the truth came to show itself – the truth she had spoken.

"I-" she started, but stopped herself. She swallowed a few times, then admitted: "I should not, but I do."

He looked her right in her eyes, loving the words she had just spoken, for he felt the same. "Why should you not want me to stay?"

"Because my heart is fragile. And because you do not trust me."

"And why do you want me to stay?"

Her eyes intensified and remained on his, showing doubt when she wondered if she should tell him. She surprised him when she said: "because you meant the world to me once. And I am afraid you still do."

He could not stop himself when he felt his hand raise and cup her cheek. "I cannot be your world. We should not feel that way about each other."

"But we do."

He remained silent as he looked in her eyes, observing the green globes he had stared at so many times in the past. They were hopeful yet doubting, but also loving and beautiful. They took him back to the many memories they had created in the past – the far and the near past. They told him of the love she had carried for him, and the love she still felt. The heart ache she had suffered through to be the woman she is today, asking for him to stay.

He had done so much to her. He had given her the world, and he had taken it away. Now he had offered her friendship, yet he was thinking of taking that away too. They both had the memories of laughter and fun, of stolen kisses and secret glances. But those always came with the memories of the heart ache and the tears, of the pain and disappointed, of the hope and the broken trust.

Could he let her go through that again? Could he leave her, knowing she would be in pain – again? All because of him – again.

She had a fragile heart indeed, but she seemed to want to trust him again. And he was left to wonder: if he promised her the world again, but he truly be able to give it to her? Would she put all her belief in his promise, or would she never be fully his?

"Can we ever be what we used to be?" she asked, her eyes never leaving his, his hand still on her cheek.

"Nothing will ever be the same," he said, not able to move away from her.

"But we are older now. We will not make the same stupid mistakes."

William doubted it, but could not voice his thoughts. She had him captured with just her eyes, her breath on his skin when she spoke.

"Should we not give each other a chance?"

"But your heart is fragile," he said.

"And your trust is weak."

"Yet you want it?"

She swallowed, then nodded her head. "I want all of you."

He did not have any more time to think, for he felt himself move closer to her and press his lips onto hers. His hand moved to the back of her head to push her closer, securing her lips where they were. He felt her hands go around him and move through his hair, while she opened her mouth and allowed his tongue inside.

Twas not the first time they had kissed – not even after those seven years. Yet this time it felt different. She did not hold back and he did not hold back. He was not expecting her to push him away and she only pressed him closer to her. Her kisses were hungry and she showed him she wanted more.

She moved to sit on his lap, her legs around his hips and her arms around his torso. Her lips moved over his, warm and passionate, heat exploding where she touched him. He held her tight and knew he never wanted to let her go.

Her groan was the only thing he needed to lift her up and carry her up the stairs, all the while keeping his lips on her skin. Once they entered, he closed the door, pushed her against it and turned the lock. No one was to disturb them while they gave their all to each other.

His mouth trailed down to her chin and neck. He kissed every inch of her skin, tasting everything she showed him. He went down to her shoulder, while her chest expanded with every loud breath she took. He pulled down the sleeve of her skirt because he wanted more. More skin to kiss. More passion to be felt. More moans to be heard. More love to be true.

She had said she wanted all of him, and she proved it when she allowed him to take off the bodice of her gown. Her hands moved to his front and unbuttoned his vest. His lips sought hers once she had thrown away the piece of clothing. Her hand wrapped around his neck again and she pulled him closer. The only times their lips left each other was to take a breath, or to take off a piece of clothing.

William found her stays and starting pulling them lose. He felt her laugh against his mouth, then her hands moved to her skirts. She untied all the layers and stepped out of them. He quickly pressed her against the wall again, and while her lips trailed to his cheek, he untied the cravat and threw it away.

He cupped her face and turned it so that her lips would be on his again. She opened her mouth for his tongue while he searched for her stays again. Her hands found his front once again and started unbuttoning his shirt. Once she reached the bottom, he turned her around to face the wall and untied her stays. It was difficult, for his lips did not want to leave her bare skin. He wanted to touch her all the time, he wanted to kiss her everywhere, and he wanted to make her moan.

Once he was finished, he threw the stays on the floor. She turned around and sought his lips again. She was passionate and hungry for more. Her hands moved up his shoulders and pushed down his shirt so that it fell on the floor. Her hands continued down until they found his hips, and she pushed down his trousers so that they dropped at their feet.

He pressed his naked body against her, wanting to feel her naked body through her undergarments. His hands found the hem of her chemise and pulled it over her head. Before he kissed her again, he bend down to take of her shoes and stocking, then pulled down her drawers.

He stood up and looked at her. She was gorgeous. He had seen women naked before, but none were as beautiful as Elizabeth. He loved how she looked nervous, yet longing. Her breathing was hard, lifting her chest up with every intake of breath.

She remained where she was, her eyes roaming over him. When she looked back into his eyes, she asked him: "are you having doubts?"

He shook his head. "Are you?"

"No."

He did not need more motivation. He walked closer to her and embraced her. His lips kissed her cheeks and temples, then found her mouth. Wherever her hands moved over his naked back, she left a trail of heat. Heat he felt all over his body. Heat he was certain she felt too. Heat he wanted forever.

He heard her take in a sharp breath when he entered her. He moved slow, trying to minimize the pain he knew she was feeling. Her nails dug into his skin while she tried to bite through it, not making a sound.

After a few movements, he felt her loosen her grip on him. "I am sorry," she breathed.

He merely nodded his head, then made her shut up by covering her mouth with his. He moved inside her, pleasing both him and her. It did not take her long to forget the pain. She started to enjoy him. When she moaned, he smiled. When she moved, he moaned.

His kisses were hungry. The fire build up inside him. He moved her arms above her head and held them against the wall. He kissed her shoulder and arm while moving inside her. Then he found her mouth again.

There was heat between them. Making love with her was amazing. Her moans were ecstatic. Her passion was addictive. His heart skipped every beat.

He pulled out of her and carried her to the bed. After kissing every part of her belly and her breasts, he entered her again. And for many hours more, he allowed her to show him how much she loved him.

But when she had fallen asleep in his arms, his mind had time to calm down and he finally realized what he had done.

He was uncontrollable when she kissed him. And once she was undress, all strength had been gone. He had kissed her and truly enjoyed her – all of her.

But in the end, he knew he could not be with her. He could not trust her, and he did not want to live a life in doubt. She should not have him, for there were so many better men than him. She had declared her love and he had taken it. He had used it.

He had ruined her.