"I know can't lie to myself," he groaned. "I wish I could. For then I could really pretend I was a good man."
Lady Pemberton sighed. "I don't now what's happened between you two that's made you so upset, but Althea loves you. If she was a shy or timid virgin on her wedding night, well, that's only to be expected. But it's never going to improve if you don't try to make things better. She deserves pleasure too. Don't ever let anyone tell you the physical side of matrimony doesn't count. It cements people together, binds them, makes them close. You're an experienced man of the world. If you can't make her happy in bed, who can?"
Matthew blushed profusely. "But what if she hates that part of our relationship? Finds it repellent?"
"Does she?" she asked in surprise.
He sighed. "No, not exactly, but-"
"Then if she didn't say anything about disliking it, trust her enough to believe her. Trust and honesty are everything in a marriage. It's all about talking, telling each other what you like, how you feel, appreciating one another."
"But she's so young," he protested with a shake of his head.
"Plenty old enough, and you are married and deserve to be happy, and yes, the two can go hand in hand. I know that true love is foreign to a rake like you, but marriage is different, like nothing you've ever experienced before. I know you think I'm meddling, but I'd give anything to see two of you happy. Whatever problems you might have together in bed or out, you need to solve them together. Bringing a third party into this, or even letting me interfere, is not going help.
"Stay away from Matilda and take whatever advice I give in the spirit in which it's intended. Find out what you and your wife both want and go after it."
He wrung his fingers together and sighed. "I know you mean well, Aunt, really I do. I'm trying my best. I'm just afraid it isn't good enough."
She sniffed impatiently. "Well, at least you'll have tried. That's something. Even if you do fail. But you aren't a coward or a man who gives up easily, now are you, my boy. You'll stand the test of time, and character, I'm sure of it."
Matthew drained his cup of tea and sighed. "Thank you for the vote of confidence."
She stared at him for a short time in silence, then said, "Just one final piece of advice. Your raking can only diminish what you have to offer Althea, so please, try to concentrate all your attention on making her happy. Let her know she's the most important thing in the world to you. If it's true, of course." She eyed him sternly. "If it isn't, well, you should never have married her."
Matthew gave a small tight smile, and it was no lie he told. "Never fear. It's true. Though at times I wish it wasn't."
"Good then. So go into the hot house, make her up a posy, and do something special with her. Go for a walk, or just hold her and tell her how lovely she is. You'll think of something. Just open your heart. Just because your parents' marriage failed does not mean yours will. And just because you were once a rake does not mean you aren't worthy of love."
"Thank you."
"Now I shall take my leave of you. I'm staying with the Duke and his wife for a few days. Come see us if you feel like it, though we will quite understand if you don't."
She gathered her reticule and fan, kissed him warmly on the cheek, and swept out of the drawing room as suddenly as she had arrived.
Chapter Twelve
Matthew sat frozen for a few moments, then took his aunt's advice. He went into the hot house behind the stairs, and put together a small nosegay of African violets.
He adjusted his toilette and entered the small gold and pale blue parlour his wife had taken to using as her own. Once there he was at a loss for words, and knelt at her feet.
"Hello, Matthew, darling." She looked at the flowers in surprise. "What-"
"I've missed you. Come for a walk," he blurted out in a most unloverlike manner, feeling as bashful as a schoolboy.
Althea stiffened slightly, wondering what bad news he was working up the courage to impart.
"Are you sure? I mean I know how busy you are, and I have this work to--"
"Never mind that," he said, flinging the darning aside and taking her hand. "Nothing is more important than us being together."
She felt her cheeks flame with delight, and wished with all her heart that she could believe his words. But she was so astonished that she was unsure what to think.
She was no fool. She knew Matilda was in the neighbourhood. She had overheard the servants talking of it. And what on earth had occurred between Matthew and his aunt that had had her sweeping out of the house before she'd had a chance to see her for more than a minute?
"Is there something wrong with Aunt, perhaps?" she ventured to ask as they stepped onto the gravel path leading to the ornamental lake.
"She's very well. No cause for alarm. She sends her regards, of course, and will be staying with Thomas if we'd like to see her."
"But why doesn't she stay here? Does she disapprove of our marriage?" she asked, feeling near tears.
He shook his head quickly. "Not at all. She's thrilled. She just didn't want to interrupt our honeymoon in any way."
"It is no interruption, really."
He scowled. "A fact I hope to remedy."
"What?"
He waved away the question. "Never mind my aunt now. It's a lovely day. I would not have you cooped up, and I would not like you to go out alone. I've been thinking, we really ought to spend more time with each other, during the day," he hastened to add with a blush.
"All right. So long as you're not too busy," she said doubtfully.
"If you're not," he said, his tone cool.
"No, I'm always at your disposal. I would very much like to see more of you. Day or night," she said candidly.
He smiled slightly, pleased. "Then we shall make plans. Starting with breakfast tomorrow, and every morning thereafter. Then work and calls, dinner and a constitutional such as this if the weather is fine. And perhaps, if you're well enough some time soon, a ride?"
"I'm feeling well enough now."
He blushed. "I would like to get Blake's advice before we allow you to embark on such strenuous activities."
She looked up at him, her blue eyes pained. "I promise you, I'm fine. I know you fear lasting effects from my ordeal. I do too. I fear not being able to give you children, for example-"
"Er yes, um, but I have been taking steps to prevent that in any case, so you need not worry about for the moment."
Her gazed sharpened perceptibly. "What steps have you been taking, precisely, apart from avoiding my bed?" she asked, feeling chilled to her marrow.
"The um, well, protectors. You might have noticed, seen one."
She felt a coldness in the pit of her stomach at his offhanded manner."And they are comprised of what, exactly?" she demanded.
"Sheep intestines, gut and ribbon."
"So that's why I've been in such pain, then? Not because I was imagining things, but because it was well, rough and dry?" she asked, wide-eyed.
He winced at her revelation. "Oh damnation, Althea, I've made a mull with you again-"
He began to stride away, but she ran after him and caught his arm. "Wait! We need to discuss this. YOU determined we weren't going to have a baby, and decided to use those things without telling me. Now you just want to walk away without explaining anything?"
"It's because I didn't want to hurt you."
"But you have!" she protested, shaking his elbow. "Oh, no, not the way you mean. I'm talking about emotionally, about feelings. Ever since we married, there's some sort of wall you've built around yourself to shut me out. The only time I ever get past it is when we're in bed together."
Matthew turned away, his turquoise eyes taking on a pained expression.
"We were developing intimacy, or at least I believed we were, until you started to get all tense and frozen. Started using those things as yet another barrier between us. They're called armour, aren't they, by the rakes about town? You've been walking in a suit of armour ever
since I first went to London for my Season, treating me so politely as if we were mere strangers."
He sighed heavily, and didn't even bother to try to deny it. "I'm sorry, but there were reasons--"
She paced up and down in front of him now, shaking her head as if trying to clear it. "You were warm and tender when you finally came down to Enfield after my father died. But within a fortnight you had your armour back on and an excuse about important business, and left. I don't understand. I can't reach you, Matthew, even though you're standing right in front of me." She planted her hand on his chest and he froze, stockstill, before he gave in to temptation and kissed her senseless.
"You see, even now, I touch you and you flinch or stiffen. I'm you're wife, Matthew, for pity's sake. I want to know what it is that I've done wrong that merits such treatment?"
He rubbed his face and the back of his neck with one hand and shook his head. "You haven't done anything wrong, Althea."
Her patience at an end, she demanded, "Then why am I being kept a prisoner, treated to a life sentence inside and out of this house?"
He started. "What do you mean?"
"We never go anywhere, see anyone. If we do have visitors apart from the Rakehells and their wives and children, you hang on to me like you think I'm going to bolt or be snatched away from you. That isn't a full and happy life. And yet as solicitous as you are during the day, you're, well, you're so cold and indifferent to me at night." She blushed, but plowed on. "You only come into my bed now as if it were some sort of business appointment. And even when you are there, you act as though you can't bear to touch me. As if it's some unpleasant duty or task you feel you have to perform."
His eyes flew wide. "No, that's not it at all!"
"Now you tell me you don't want to have children, when I've been thinking all this time that I was a failure in that regard. Plus you've been using something that feels like, well, an old sock, and wonder why I don't take delight in the conjugal act as I did when we first married."
He turned away from her. "The less said about that, the better."
She stared at his broad back in confusion. "I don't understand what's wrong. Why can't we talk-"
"Because I feel guilty over what I did to you, my appalling selfishness, and the hurt I caused as a result," he said over his shoulder, staring out moodily over the rolling hills.
"But you haven't hurt me since except with your armour. It is natural to feel pain when one is a virgin, and to bleed then. You did nothing wrong. I'm sure it can't be normal to feel pain all the time when I felt such pleasure before, well, before you started to avoid me and used those things. If it really is me doing something wrong, we need to find the answer-"
"You aren't doing anything wrong!" he repeated tightly.
Understanding that they had reached a critical juncture in their marriage, she stood up to him boldly, surprising even herself. She reached for his broad bicep, and turned him around to face her. "Hear me out, Matthew. If there is something wrong, we need to try to cure it. I don't want to be only half a wife, or a disappointment to you."
"You could never be that," he sighed, cuffing away the tears which had formed behind his lids.
"Then stop locking your doors, turning your back to me," she said gently, taking his hand to turn Matthew around to face her fully.
A surge of pure lust shot through him as he gazed down at her, though he told himself that was the last thing he needed right now. Ignoring his surging loins with every ounce of willpower in him, he said with all sincerity, "I don't know how to do anything else. I've never been married before."
"Neither have I. Do you think we could just try to discover a happy married life together?"
He squeezed her hand. "Oh Althea, I want to try. But I'm afraid I'll muddle it up just like my father..."
She blinked. "Your father? I don't understand."
His expression closed up like a vise. "Never mind."
She blinked. "Never mind? But you brought it up. Tell me the truth, Matthew. I need to know what it is you fear."
"A thousand things," he admitted at last.
She took his hand firmly in both her own. "Let's just start with this one then, shall we?"
She led him over to a nearby ornamental bench and listened as he told her what his aunt had revealed.
"It's a sorry tale," Althea sighed when Matthew had concluded the story of the end of his parents' marriage. "I can't promise to never give you cause to be jealous, for jealousy is about what's inside of you, what you feel, see, choose to interpret. But I can promise to be honest with you always, no matter how unpalatable the truth might be, or how difficult.
"So in the vein, I have to say, darling, the truth is, I miss you in bed beside me and hate those protectors. I want to have a baby, though I agree with you that perhaps I'm not quite ready at the moment. But I know there are other ways to avoid it, and at least it's my choice, our choice together. I want to have at least some control about what's happening within my own body. And I'd like to be allowed to go pay some calls around the district."
"All right. I understand. I'll support you no matter what, you know that. I just want you to be well and happy."
She gazed at him, her eyes shadowed by pain, and squeezed his hand. "I want to, well, I want to take up Blake's suggestion that I go over to Millcote and spend time with Eswara. I think perhaps talking to a woman about some of what's been happening might put my mind and body more at rest.
"And since you're obviously so uncertain about having me go out into company, we can invite people here. Cards, a soiree. I know we're supposed to be on honeymoon, but they'll think it odd eventually if we never see anyone except the Rakehells, who only come to visit for five minutes. I'm not mad, or an invalid."
"No, of course not," he agreed, squeezing her hand.
"I'm guessing that somehow your aunt found out we were wed and wanted to know why she had not been invited?"
He gave a sheepish smile and nodded. "Yes, rather. Though she forgives us. I'm sorry, I've just been so worried about those men coming after you."
She blushed, but said in a low tone, "They prized my virginity as some sort of ritual sacrifice. That's long gone, so what could they-"
Matthew grimaced at her candour.
"I'm sorry. That wasn't intended as a reproach." She patted his shoulder and held his hand. He leaned into her, allowing him himself the luxury of her touch for a few brief moments before pulling away to stand up.
"I shall take you over to Millcote myself."
"And I want you to consider talking to Blake about the way you feel."
"The way I feel?" he said in confusion.
"I know you very well, Matthew. I can see something has been troubling you. You've not been sleeping. You have terrible headaches, you're short, abrupt and tense all the time. It could be an illness, or it could be, well-"
"Yes?"
"You kicking against the restraints of our marriage. Stuck here day after day protecting me when you really want to-"
"No, it's not that," he denied hotly.
"You're trying to tell me you don't miss the cut and thrust of life in the Ton?" she said, her doubt evident in her tone as they walked to the stable block side by side, the wind rippling her dark blue day gown against her shapely legs, which only made Matthew desire her even more.
"You're forgetting that I was down here for months, for the most part, before I went up to London to seek some entertainment, as it were. And for six months I had been celibate. I know my past doesn't bode well. But I'm trying to be a better man."
"You are a good man. I just feel this distance between us which I'm not sure how to breach."
He kissed her hand. "It's me. I'm just not used to having any woman with me day and night. I don't know how to share. I long for you, but want to be kind and decent. Believe me, you're a perfect angel in every way. I'm the one who's at fault."
"What would you do if I weren't here?"
He shrugged. "Pay visits, make
calls, ride, oversee the estate and the renovations, go see my bankers in Bristol, shop in Bath or Brimley, read, keep up with my correspondence. That sort of thing."
"Then you must do all those same things now, not hide in the house hovering in case I should need you."
"But I shouldn't hide from you either. I've gone from not letting you out of my sight, to avoiding you because I'm never sure what I'm going to do when I see you next."
"I don't understand what changed, why you've become so diffident."
He sighed. "You were crying. Told me you didn't need me to be solicitous all the time-"
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