An Affair of Honor (Rebel Hearts Book 2)

by Heather Boyd

  Her gaze narrowed. “How handsomely?”

  Matilda had overcome her aversion to taking his money at last. Thank heaven for the adoption of good sense. He approved of her reversal, and since time was of the essence, he made several calculations quickly. The right amount of honey could attract the sweetest bee. “An allowance. A town house. Servants of your choosing. Whatever you require for your comfort.”

  Her eyes gleamed. “Anything?”

  He nodded curtly. “As long as I don’t have to bleed or go bankrupt.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “You will apologize first.”

  He moved close to her. “For what?”

  Her jaw lifted and her eyes blazed. “For hurting me.”

  At last, an opening to discuss his mistake. The Fords lived by a code he thoroughly approved of—never admit fault—but when it came to Matilda Winslow, he’d make an exception. He should have exercised better control and protected her from his nature.

  He leaned closer, brought his face down beside hers so his voice wouldn’t carry. As much as he’d enjoyed spanking her bottom until it had glowed red after catching her in his room, he’d had no true right to ever discipline her, even if she’d given her permission. She had not known enough of his nature to accept what it was he offered.

  That day he’d lost his head and had not fully considered how his desires must have seemed to an innocent young maid. And he was sure she’d been an innocent that day, judging by her frantic escape from his rooms. Afterward he’d made a vow never to run such a risk again, but he’d never stopped thinking about her bare skin, hot against his palm, or her reaction to his intimate touch.

  “I apologize for spanking your pretty backside,” he whispered.

  Her eyes widened as if she’d not expected him to admit fault at all. She swallowed, her eyes fixed on his. “Apology accepted. A house in London to live in, five hundred pounds, and you’ll pay my expenses from any Bond Street merchants for two years.”

  A great deal less than most mistresses demanded, or wives, from what he’d gathered. He breathed in her scent, a familiar mixture of rosemary and lemon, and his senses stirred. Dear God, he wanted to devour this woman, spend hours bringing her exquisite sensations of pleasure and pain if she would let him. He licked his lips as the urge to kiss her grew. “I can live with that.”

  Matilda spun on her heel and marched to the door that connected to the drawing room.

  “Wait.” He hurried to stop her. “No one will believe the pretense if you look too buttoned up or shabby.”

  She paused at the doorway, glanced over her shoulder and then down at her dress. “What does what I look like have to do with pretending to be in love?”

  “Everything. Trust me. I am known to have particular standards when it comes to my lovers.” And a preference for dark-haired women not unlike Matilda Winslow.

  He reached forward and lightly touched her face for the first time. She had a strong jaw, slightly pointed chin, and her eyes flashed with alarm. His hand trembled, but he steadied himself. “You must look softer, irresistible.”

  He tugged a few strands of hair from beside her ears. The dark strands bounced into curls instantly, just as they had when he’d let her hair down. Next he plucked the ugly tucker from the top of her bodice, prepared to draw it over her head.

  Matilda reared back when his fingertips caressed the upper swell of her breast accidentally. “I will do it.”

  She moved to his mirror and pulled the scrap of lace over her head, then rushed to remove her damp apron. Without it, the plain gown seemed a good deal more fetching, and Matilda looked less like a servant who had made his bed every morning.

  William moved behind her to tighten the ribbon beneath her bust to accent her figure. He caught his reflection in the mirror and quickly averted his eyes. Next to Matilda’s feminine grace, he appeared an ogre, hideously scarred. He shifted his attention to Matilda and kept it there, liking what the mirror revealed with those few alterations. He grabbed the tightly bound mass of dark hair at the back of her head and wiggled it a little, softening her coiffure.

  She pinched her cheeks and licked her lips. “Good enough?”

  Too good. The changes made a world of difference and played havoc with his control. The gown, although serviceable and plain, was a good color for her. He dug a sea-green silk shawl and gloves, impulsive purchases with no purpose save that they’d appealed to him, from his sea chest and dressed her in them. He was gripped with a sudden idea that would guarantee him success. A fine silver chain and cross pendant he’d hoarded for years completed her transformation from distracting servant to delectable temptation. The revelation was utterly breathtaking. “You’ll do,” he managed to say, feeling uncomfortably hot.

  He caught her newly gloved wrist so she couldn’t flee and towed her toward the staircase, still dreading the coming meeting but determined. He would marry when he liked, whom he liked, and not a moment sooner than when he had had enough of being a bachelor.

  At the top stair, he took a breath, threaded her arm through his, and led Matilda down the staircase as if she were indeed his lady.

  Five

  His butler was waiting on the landing, eyes wide at the sight of Matilda on his arm.

  “I knocked over a vase upstairs,” William said. “Have it cleaned up immediately, Carter.”

  “Yes, Captain.” He hurried past them but glanced back a time or two before he disappeared. Yes, it was time for Matilda to leave his employ. The first course of action would be to find her somewhere safe to stay tonight once his guests had gone on their disappointed way.

  “I do love my sisters,” he informed her, returning to their earlier discussion about his family. “But I have never been comfortable showing how I feel.”

  “They deserve to have their season,” she whispered, hand rising to the pendant at her neck and twiddling with it nervously. “Don’t spoil it for them with your usual bad grace.”

  That deserved at least one strike on her pretty bottom. He gritted his teeth until the desire passed. “You are correct. They do deserve a chance to find a husband. I simply dread going back into society again and being stared at.”

  She paused on the last stair, turned, her gaze full of understanding. “You cannot lurk indoors forever.”

  He would like to try. The few times he’d gone out this week had not soothed his temper. His first trip to the brothel had been a disaster. He’d looked, meant to indulge, but the women’s shocked reaction to his altered features had ruined his intentions. He’d been gawked at, whispered about, until he’d rushed back to his carriage and drawn the curtains on the world.

  The mirror didn’t lie.

  Matilda was the only person he knew who looked at him without pity in her eyes.

  However, for this ruse to work today, she had to look at him with warmth and desire. And after today, it might be necessary to venture into society a few times just to be sure their ruse of lovers was believed. He pictured Matilda hanging on his arm at the theatre, dancing together in a crowded ballroom and pretending she enjoyed every moment in his company while everyone whispered about them and his altered looks. It would take courage he hoped she still possessed in abundance. For if she was anything like him, she might hate every moment of scrutiny.

  “I’ll lurk if you’ll lurk with me.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ll convince them today, and you will pay me well enough for the trouble,” she insisted.

  She gathered up her skirts in one hand, and William caught a glimpse of her slender ankles encased in dowdy stockings. She still needed the new ones he could have paid for last year if she’d accepted his gift of coin for the purchase, and once he considered her stocking covered legs his mind traveled upward to her well-rounded bottom. He gritted his teeth. Damn, but dressing her up for this little play might not have been his best idea for continued peace of mind.

  “Where is dear William?” Maria asked in a shrill voice that c
arried into the hall with perfect clarity.

  Matilda’s eyes rose with a question and he nodded. “That’s her,” he whispered.

  William held on to Matilda’s elbow just a little tighter as his father replied, “Nothing could keep him away.”

  Father had wanted this alliance since he’d been a boy, never understanding why William fought the connection.

  “He’ll be here when he’s ready,” his grandfather proclaimed in a raised voice, surely meant to reassure William that at least someone in the room might be on his side.

  William drew in a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and braced himself to face his family with his new and scarred face. He did not look the same as they would remember, and he was sure they would be taken aback when they saw him for the first time.

  He kept his gaze down and only when he passed the arch and the thick rug appeared in his line of sight did he lift his face and show them the changes. “Here I am, for better or worse.”

  Audrey, Evelyn, and Victoria screamed and ran to him like wild creatures of the woods.

  Feminine arms wrapped around him tightly, and through the overwhelming babble he discovered they didn’t care one whit about the alteration of his features. They proved they missed him, as they always did when he’d been away, but this time their enthusiasm toppled them to the carpeted floor in a tangle of arms and legs. William came to rest on his back among the trio.

  “Dear God, you’re all heathens,” he cried out as Eve prodded his scar with no fear or evident revulsion and Victoria scrubbed his head, disturbing his hair.

  “Does it hurt?” Eve asked boldly, rubbing her fingertips over the rough and bumpy scar just as Matilda sometimes did when applying a cream to ease an itch.

  He’d much rather Matilda’s gentle fingers than Evelyn’s prodding, so he moved out of danger. “Not now.”

  “You talk funny,” Audrey said after adjusting her gown. At least she held back from attacking him with affection. “Your words slur just a little too.”

  “So they do.” Despite his best efforts to cure himself, he still had trouble making his mouth do what he wanted all the time. When he smiled, he was left with the suspicion that he was utterly terrifying to others.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Victoria insisted with a grin. “You still sound enough like our surly brother that you could never be mistaken for an impostor.”

  He sat up, shaking his head. “I cannot believe we’re having this conversation on the floor.”

  “We don’t care where we are,” Victoria claimed. “We are so very glad to see our big brother.”

  He took in the faces of three women most dear to him, noting how much they’d grown, changed, in the past year while he’d been at sea. They were stunning, and his hope for a quiet and uneventful season died a sudden death. They would undoubtedly be popular with the gentlemen in society, and that meant he’d have to be right by their sides for each event they attended. He needed to keep a watchful eye over them and make sure they were not pestered or imposed upon and that his family didn’t marry them off to unworthy men.

  “Girls, girls,” Maria said as she broke into their conversation.

  William looked up into the pinched face of the woman who had schemed to become his wife for the past five years. She paled when she saw his face properly at close range and then collapsed back into the softness of a well-padded chair in a very fair impression of a faint.

  William scowled at her behavior. He was not about to be lured over there to reassure Maria he wasn’t a monster now.

  He stood and helped his sisters to their feet while Chudleigh and his father fussed over Maria and helped her sit up. They offered her sherry and pillows and any number of foolish things.

  William turned to his grandfather, the Duke of Rutherford, and bowed deeply. “Your Grace.”

  The old man, never one to stand on ceremony with family, hugged him tightly until he squirmed. Rutherford pounded his back a few times. “About time you sent for us.”

  William drew back, concerned by the catch in his grandfather’s voice. The duke’s expression was steely; there was no hint of the tears William had feared he might see. “The worst is over. I am as good as I will ever be.”

  “Could have been worse,” the duke whispered, studying his face keenly. William’s face was caught in a tight grip and turned so the shorter man could see the scar properly. “Thank heavens for that.”

  “No. Thank Matilda,” he murmured when released. “She is the one who deserves the credit for keeping me alive.”

  When he glanced around for her, Matilda had backed away to wait in the shadows of the dining room. Dutiful. Silent. A perfect servant doing her best to be overlooked by her employer’s guests. That would not do if she were to play the part he wanted her to.

  He looked her over boldly and then tipped his head, hoping she’d remember to keep up her side of their bargain and pretend to enjoy his attentions. “What are you doing over there, darling?”

  A hesitant smile fluttered over her lips as everyone gasped. “Waiting for the right moment to be introduced, sweetie,” she said with a small smile of triumph.

  Sweetie?

  Oh, that was good. He’d happily discipline her for uttering such a cloying remark if he could. She drew close, and when she reached his side she slipped one hand over his shoulder. The gesture was perfect. Affectionate and just a touch too assured for her to be mistaken for anything but an intimate female acquaintance of his. William did not allow women to handle him in public.

  He grinned at her boldness. He’d missed that about her. He’d missed her touch and never realized how much until now. “I should introduce you all to my Matilda.”

  “Your what?” his father burst out, eyes widening.

  “Oh, how romantic,” Evelyn shrieked. She clutched her hands to her chest with all the dramatic flair of a stage actress. “You married your maid!”

  He faltered at her assumption. Claiming a marriage had taken place hadn’t been his intent, but it absolutely solved his problem of how to thwart his father’s matchmaking efforts. He wanted his father and Mr. Chudleigh to understand that enough was enough. He would not marry Miss Chudleigh. Being excluded from the marriage mart was exactly what he needed to send her packing. Claiming he’d already wed guaranteed they would never darken his door again.

  Matilda’s hand slid down his shoulder when he did not immediately speak up to deny they’d wed. He caught her wrist before she could run, then threaded their fingers together and squeezed tightly, holding her close to his side. Keen to appear affectionate, he raised her gloved hand to his lips and kissed it too.

  “Indeed we are. We wanted to surprise everyone with the news.” He stared at his father, unsurprised that the old man appeared ready to explode.

  Matilda squeezed his hand in return, and her face transformed into an utterly besotted expression. He was astonished. He’d never seen the like before—not directed toward him.

  “How could I say no when he was so adamant that he could not live without me?”

  “But she’s a nobody,” Miss Chudleigh exclaimed, clearly recovered from her supposed faint.

  He placed himself before Matilda, angry at Miss Chudleigh’s utter rudeness. “Don’t you dare speak of my wife like that,” he growled.

  Miss Chudleigh lifted a trembling hand to her lips. “You cannot be serious.”

  “He’s always serious,” Matilda murmured, rubbing his arm to soothe his temper. “If you truly knew him, you’d have already learned never to question his decisions.”

  William glanced at Matilda quickly and nodded. She was doing and saying exactly the right things to make his plan succeed. He couldn’t be prouder of her performance under such trying circumstances.

  “Now see here. This nonsense can be sorted out,” his father promised the Chudleighs. “William has not been well. An annulment can be arranged soon enough I’m sure.”

  “I’d like a whiskey,” Rutherford announced loudly enough that
everyone quieted to stare at him. He moved close to William, winked, and then addressed Matilda. “Mrs. Ford, would you care to join me in the drawing room? I believe William has long kept a decanter or two hidden there.”

  “He does indeed.” Matilda appeared startled though and glanced at him for permission to go. He nodded decisively. There was no reason for Matilda to remain and listen to rude people. “Do join him. I’ll be along shortly, darling.”

  “As you wish.” She dropped his arm only to be claimed by his grandfather. “Your Grace.”

  “Matilda Ford? What a pretty ring that has,” Rutherford began as they moved away. “We’ve never had a Matilda in the family before. How lovely. Come along, girls,” he called out to Victoria, Audrey, and Evelyn, who rushed after him and very quickly formed a wall of protection around William’s wife.

  Once the group was beyond the door, his father rounded on him. “What are you thinking, marrying a woman like that? Did she trick you into it?”

  “Of course not. I chose her.”

  His father started to shake his head. It was always a bad sign when that started up.

  William turned to Mr. Chudleigh. “Sir, I hope you and your daughter will excuse us. You have intruded on something of a family celebration that I have long been looking forward to. This is the first chance my wife and I have had to be with my grandfather and sisters since my recovery. I am a very happily married man. Whatever my father has promised you will never come to pass.”

  Miss Chudleigh sobbed, clutching her father’s arm, but Mr. Chudleigh thankfully ushered her out without uttering a word about his choice of bride.

  William was not so lucky with his own father. “You will live to regret such a hasty marriage.”

  “Did you?” William bit out. “You barely waited a month after my mother’s death before proposing marriage to my cousin’s governess.”

  “The situation was entirely different,” George Ford blustered. “You needed a new mother to curb your tears.”

  The usual resentment stirred at the suggestion that the second Lady Ford had mothered him at all. “How could she have comforted me when you sent me away almost immediately after Mama’s death? From where I stand, my marriage is decidedly different than yours and truly none of your business.”