An Affair of Honor (Rebel Hearts Book 2) Page 20

  He stood when she remained silent. “I’ll be downstairs if you should wish to talk again tonight. And unless you say otherwise, we will go on as we have been—sleeping beside each other at night, dressing together in the morning.”

  On a sudden impulse, he kissed the top of her head. “Think about it, Matilda. I can give you everything you need and more. A home, wealth, security, passion, and friendship. I don’t want to crush your spirit. I want to nurture it. Reveal it until others can see your worth too.”

  William looked for signs of agreement, but her eyes remained closed, her face stained with tears. Should he tell her his secret wish? A truth he’d never been sure how to voice? But this moment was the worst time to confess that he loved her. She might think he was trying to manipulate her again. Better to say nothing and wait until the time was right if she stayed.

  He strode out with a heavy heart. The truth was always a discomfort, and loving Matilda had always been a secret he’d kept close to his heart. He made his way to the library and stopped before the window.

  Outside, Harry Lloyd waited on the street, eyes fixed on the upper drawing room window where William had left Matilda to decide the fate of their marriage. Miss Chudleigh’s carriage rolled past, the woman’s face turned to him. She waved.

  William glared at them both until they went on their way, and wished they would never darken his door again.

  Twenty-One

  Matilda wiped at her eyes as tears continued to fall. Indecision gripped her. She was furious, confused, bound up in lies and desire, and hope, with no certainty of what lay ahead.

  Seeing Harry again had been such a revelation. He’d forced her to see a truth that had been staring her in the face all along. She preferred to keep the easy life she was living now. Despite the lie, she wanted to remain with William.

  If Harry Lloyd did actually go into a partnership at a tavern and married her after her marriage to William ended, Matilda as his wife would have to work, and work very hard, for the rest of her life.

  Every form of the life William offered was very easy in comparison.

  She stared at her hands. Once red and chafed from hard work, they were soft and paler than she’d ever seen them since her father’s death. William hated it when she even tidied a room.

  She was also appalled at the idea of running out of her marriage, even if William had lied to her to obtain her agreement.

  She drew her knees up to her chest and placed her chin upon them. Harry was right too, after a fashion—she was always in this part of the house for the latter part of the day. Even when William had been at sea, she had gravitated to this pretty room—seeking a moment or two of peace from the other servants. For a short while she had pretended to be the lady of the house rather than the lowly maid who cleaned it.

  And now, thanks to William’s new and startling wishes, she might live with him forever.

  All she had to do was believe in him. To trust him without reservations.

  She liked this house, and she’d grown accustomed to her easy life here. His family was kind and she was slowly growing accustomed to them being around.

  She had even grown accustomed to William’s scoldings and rules. He was very steady in temperament once she had figured out his quirks and made allowances for his desires.

  She’d learned to understand her own.

  Matilda looked forward to the next punishment so much that the very memory of the last made her body quiver with anticipation. But despite the pleasure of her situation with William, she had never believed she belonged in his world. She’d always known she could never stay with him.

  And yet the thought of leaving, of never seeing him and his scowl again, brought unbearable pain.

  There was a tap at the open door, and she quickly placed her feet on the floor so she was again a proper lady. “Come in.”

  As it swung open, her disappointment was acute that William had not come back to her. “Yes, Dawson?”

  “Captain Ford begs me to ask if you would be joining him for dinner.”

  She frowned, unable to decide. She didn’t want to leave the comfort of this room yet because the moment she did she would have to decide what to do with her life and their marriage. “Tell me about your friend, the one Harry Lloyd stole from you.”

  Dawson shut the door quickly and took a few paces into the room. “Not stole. She was never really mine. Marta worked as a kitchen maid. She was young, pretty, and very shy, just like you in some respects. A little flattery, and before I knew it Lloyd had a claim on her heart.”

  “Marta? I think I remember meeting her when I began working here. I was sorry when she left. She was nice to me. I thought we might have become friends one day.”

  Dawson winced. “I think she would have liked you too. I didn’t understand until it was too late that Lloyd had promised her marriage in return for her favors. Marriage was never his goal. She came to me in tears as soon as her condition became apparent and told me how he’d disappointed her. I had some money saved, and I gave it all to her, and after appealing to the captain he gave me leave to escort her into the country myself. My sister had married well, to a carpenter with his own shop, and was willing to harbor Marta until she found her feet. By the time I returned, the captain had dismissed Lloyd from his duties. I had thought Lloyd might have done the right thing and married Marta, but in the end, she lost the babe and remained with my sister in the country as her housekeeper.”

  Her throat tightened at the similarities between her and Marta’s past. She had almost succumbed to Lloyd’s seduction once, made a little too merry from punch she’d later learned had been embellished with alcohol. It was probably pure luck that she’d not been ruined, but Matilda had never been comfortable in her own skin, or bold enough to risk behaving in a manner that might lose her a position. Not until William’s strict instruction and seduction had educated her a little about the truth of her nature. “Do you still see her? Marta?”

  “Not for over a year now. My sister writes that she is well and asks for news of me on occasion. I will most likely ask her to marry me next Christmas, if she’s not found someone else.”

  “I hope she hasn’t for your sake.” Matilda was filled with sadness and wiped at her eyes. “You are a good man, Dawson.”

  “I wish I had known he’d promised to marry you. I could have saved you so much trouble by revealing his flaws.” Dawson came closer and perched on a chair nearby. “He was desperate for coin, but then you knew he had light fingers, didn’t you?”

  “He always swore it was accidental.” Matilda grimaced. “And then would talk about how wonderful our life would be far away from here.”

  “You can’t leave with Lloyd.”

  The idea of a liar and seducer of innocents in her life was decidedly uncomfortable.

  Dawson continued. “I am sure it seems unforgivable that Captain Ford lied to you. I am equally sure he did it because he cares about you so much more than he reveals. He never meant any harm, and he is a much better match for you in my opinion. Please give him another chance, or at least don’t be fooled by Lloyd’s claims that Captain Ford chased after all the maids.”

  “I know William wouldn’t do that.” Matilda drew in a sharp breath. He’d focused his attention on her from the moment they’d met though. She’d sensed his interest, been flattered by it a little. He’d claimed he’d tried to fight his attraction. “I am quite done with Mr. Lloyd, I assure you.”

  But was she done with William too?

  She did not know the answer to that, but she would have to decide and soon. Despite William’s claim, their marriage could not stay the same. “I’d like to be alone now.”

  “Very good, madam.” Dawson released a heavy sigh, as if he’d been truly afraid she’d throw over her husband so quickly. “Shall I bring up your supper tray?”

  “Yes, please.” The sun was setting, her favorite time of day. “I will remain here for the evening.”

  “And the captain, ma’am?�
��

  She glanced at the ring on her finger. The only thing she had that made her a respectable woman. “I have no message for my husband.”

  Dawson added more fuel to the fire and then fled. By the time he’d returned with her supper tray, Matilda had decided what to do. Everyone believed her properly wed and bedded. It was only a matter of time before the inevitable fall happened. Why deny that her own nature required William’s firm hand to bring her peace?

  If pleasure and pain were all she could have, she’d take it. Her hope of being loved would have to go begging.

  Twenty-Two

  Since Matilda had not come down to speak with him or left the house to meet with Harry Lloyd, William kept to his regular schedule as best he could. He ate, read, and at the time he felt right, he climbed the stairs and strolled to the dressing room. Thank God his sisters had returned to Newberry House earlier. He could not have borne their questions or disappointment in him.

  He’d made a bloody mess of his marriage. The question though was could their friendship be saved?

  He went into the dressing room first, but the space was empty of Matilda. Her nightclothes were still laid out upon the chaise next to the gown she had worn that day. He stared at her stockings, corset, and chemise and glanced around. What was she wearing?

  He picked up her chemise and held it a moment, pulse racing as he breathed in her scent. Rosemary and lemon. Familiar scents that always decided his moods. She stirred his passions and his temper.

  Matilda never slept without clothing.

  To do so was immodest and sure to tempt him to break their bargain.

  He hoped she knew by now that her bare skin excited him beyond reason.

  Although he should not read anything into her nightgown being in the dressing room still, the sight of it made him tremble with hope. Matilda hadn’t chased after Harry Lloyd and had two options before her—keep to their terms, which ended with separation, or become his wife in every way that counted.

  He had expected to talk about her choice and move forward in the manner they agreed. He needed to know her limits so he could do his best to always meet them and never stray beyond.

  He undressed slowly, stripped down to his breeches, and then approached their dark bedchamber, his candle held aloft. Inside, sheets rustled as she moved in their bed restlessly.

  When he stepped through the doorway his heart raced. Matilda lay in the exact center, her dark hair spilled over his pillow, but the sheets were pulled up to her chin modestly. He couldn’t tell if she was naked under the sheet, but after a moment of silent scrutiny he assumed so. She seemed more than a little nervous.

  He put the candle aside on a chest of drawers, moved to the bed, and pulled back the sheet only a little so he could climb in next to her. “Matilda.”

  “William,” she whispered.

  He rested on one elbow, watching her carefully, and then slowly peeled back the sheet an inch or two. Her shoulder was bare. He fought jubilation and traced a circle on her skin with his fingertip, unwilling to rush to any assumption that might lead to embarrassment for either one of them. “Does this mean what I hope it means?”

  “Our bargain wasn’t fair. Not to either of us.” She met his gaze. “I want to be your wife, William. I want to be the wife you want me to be.”

  “You already are.” He smiled and flung the bedding away.

  Matilda jumped, startled by his actions. “William!”

  He loved his name on her lips. He kissed her shoulder, her neck, overcome with hope for their future. “So very beautiful, and all mine.”

  “And you’ll be mine too.” She captured his face and pulled him in for a kiss. Her behavior was a little startling since she usually waited for him to act. He couldn’t say he didn’t like her wanting him, but there was an order to his amours.

  He leaned over her a little farther and sank into their kiss. Her fingers wormed between them, and she unbuttoned the fall of his breeches. She eased them down over his hips until they bunched at his thighs, and he was too shocked to utter a word of protest. Too excited to slow things down. William rid himself of the garment and returned to Matilda, expecting to talk honestly about her change of heart.

  Except she caught him in her hand and stroked his length until he was unbearably aroused and very nearly incapable of coherent thought.

  The very thing he’d been secretly longing for since they’d met, acceptance of his nature and affection from his wife, had become his most gratifying experience. His Matilda was the strongest, most forgiving, bravest person he’d ever met. By God he loved her.

  He drew back a little, staring at her lips. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, “but I will treasure every moment we have together.”

  “Make me your wife,” she asked, eyes huge and trusting. “Make me feel you want me for myself and not just as a means to keep others from having you.”

  “I do want you, Mattie. I always have.” He eased into position between her thighs, fighting his instincts to claim her immediately. But she was so untouched, so truly pure, that he feared no matter his hesitance that he would cause her pain. To keep her as his wife, and William wanted nothing else but that, he would have to be very careful not to disappoint her again. “This might hurt.”

  “No more than I expect.”

  She was warm against him, and he held her close as he made love to her mouth and body, trying to prepare her. She was restless beneath him, but he would not be rushed.

  He slipped his hand between her legs, discovering warmth and moisture between her lower lips. He teased her, sliding over her clitoris and the entrance to her quim. He’d never had a virgin. He’d heard all manner of things could go wrong though. Nothing could ever go wrong between them again. Matilda had to enjoy this too. He wanted her to love everything they did together. He wanted her to love him.

  He carefully inserted his fingertip into her tight sheath and pushed in.

  Matilda gasped.

  “I’ll go slow,” he promised, easing his finger back out immediately.

  He moved back to her clitoris and swirled his fingers around. She was used to his touch there, and her body relaxed again. He returned to her opening, teased and toyed with her until she grew accustomed to his invasion. When he had two fingers gliding in and out of her body, when Matilda’s breath was coming in short little pants, she tightened her arms about his neck and rubbed her nipples against his chest with a happy little moan.

  He eased down the bed and lightly suckled her breast, flicking his tongue over the hard point as Matilda twisted and moaned on his fingers. “Oh, William. That feels so strange.”

  He raised his head enough to ask, “Good strange?”

  “Yes.”

  He shifted downward, lapping her belly and bestowing firm kisses over the flat surface. He moved lower to the nest of curls that protected her core and buried his face there, flicking out his tongue to tease her clitoris too. He loved her taste.

  Matilda held his head, tugging at his hair in her distress and arousal. “Don’t make me wait.”

  He withdrew his fingers, rose up to stare down at her. “I choose the manner we come together, or have you forgotten?”

  “No, but… I’m afraid you might stop before I’m truly a wife.”

  He turned her hips a little and slapped her bottom. “Impatience will only lead to pain.”

  “I like your pain. I want it. I need it, William. Please.”

  William flipped her over to her back and joined with her before she could issue any more demands or doubt him again. They belonged together.

  Her shocked cry and tight confines brought out every fear and secret longing as he pressed deep. She hadn’t been ready. He should have taken more time.

  He should have gagged her so she couldn’t goad him on.

  He held still as the idea made him quake. He had only ever gone so far with women, but there were more opportunities for dominance with a wife than his imagination could conjure up. Binding Mati
lda would be so wonderful. Exciting for both of them too.

  He kissed her lips before he thought too much about that, thrusting his tongue into her mouth the way he wished to take her sweet body. Her fingers moved on his chest delicately, and he drew back. Tears slid from the corner of each eye and disappeared into her hairline. She offered a tremulous smile.

  “Oh, Mattie mine.” He hugged her tight, lost in the wonder of her unflinching spirit. “I hurt you.”

  “Am I complaining?”

  “No, but then again you never do.” He began to move, slowly at first, giving her time to grow used to him being inside her. After a time he pulled back, resting his weight on his hands so he could see her face as he quickened his rhythm. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she took her bottom lip between her teeth.

  Fearing he was hurting her, he froze.

  Her hands clamped down on his hips and her legs brushed his. She lifted her gaze to his and he saw desire, pure raw hunger in her expression. “Don’t stop,” she begged. “Oh, please stay with me. I never expected this. I’m so close.”

  He moved again, watching her face now. She frowned, grimaced, and twisted against him, clearly enthralled by their tryst and desperate for the inevitable conclusion. He cupped her breast with one hand then pinched her nipple hard. Matilda gasped softly, a sound he’d grown to love hearing as he spanked her, and he twisted his fingers to give her more pain.

  She came around him, a soft shriek filling the room, and he released her breast to watch her face relax. She lay beneath him afterward gasping, a wondrous smile spreading over her face. Her body quaked around him for a long time, and when she was spent, her hands slipped off his skin slowly. “I’m glad it was you.”

  William shifted over her fully, cock hard and eager to pump into her body every feeling he possessed. No one ever but him would have this honor. He would never give her up now. He braced his forearms around her head and flexed his hips, driving into her tense sheath, relieved that she appeared not to be in any great pain.