by Heather Boyd
“Or a season—if you help me with them.” Captain Ford folded his arms across his chest as he swayed from foot to foot. “There are a number of things I need to know for the marriage contract. Your exact age, please?”
“I am not yet twenty years.”
He grunted. “Do you have a relation or guardian I need to speak with to obtain permission to marry you?”
“I have no one.” She pressed her hand over her face. Her mother, a gypsy with a restless nature, had discarded her years ago and could hardly care what she did with her life or worry what might have become of her. “I had no one but Harry, and now he’s gone.”
“As I feared.” He sighed deeply. “The season is drawing to a close, and for the ruse to work you must act the part of my wife immediately. There are gowns to be fitted, invitations to accept if we are to chaperone my sisters in society during the coming weeks. You cannot continue to weep over your former betrothed like this.”
She dropped her hands. “I just heard he was gone.”
“He left a year ago.” His face set into stubborn lines. “You’ve had adequate time to forget him.”
She shook her head stubbornly. “There will never be enough time for that.”
“Then I suggest you weep in private.”
“How can you be so unfeeling?” She clenched her hands until her nails dug into her palms, her anger giving her the courage to confront him. Something she’d never done before. “Don’t you dare tell me what I may feel. You may think you control my actions because I am—was—in your service, but my thoughts are very much my own and always have been.”
His jaw clenched and his arms unfolded slowly. “Be careful how you speak to me, Matilda. Do not forget who I am.”
“How could I forget that?” But she trembled at the tone of his voice. “You care only for your own comfort.”
“Which is how it is supposed to be when a man is a bachelor and lives alone.” He sighed. “I have depended on you, trusted you above anyone else these past months. Trust me now. I will take care of you, I promise. You will have a very comfortable life ahead if you just do as I ask for now.”
He sounded sincere enough that her temper subsided. Matilda turned away from him. “I will keep my heartbreak to myself because it is mine alone.”
He grasped her shoulders, preventing her from straying far. “No one in London society knows who you are, so that is to our advantage. You’ve been by my side for months and understood my moods better than anyone, even when I could not speak. Given the depths of our acquaintance, I think you could fool anyone into believing we’re man and wife. Acting as my wife would put me forever in your debt.”
“You were not so complicated when you were confined to bed,” she grumbled. Matilda had liked caring for him though, knowing he improved every day because of her efforts. But marriage was madness. She might have once been curious about London society, having listened to the Fords speak so often about their friends and acquaintances, including all the wild and wonderful entertainments to be found in other houses, but she’d never expected to be part of that life. Not even for a little while.
Their eventual separation would cause scandal for his family. The duke would not be pleased. However, with William’s sisters married off, would there really be no impediment to prevent it?
She turned when the captain remained silent for several minutes. Captain Ford’s face was tipped downward, his attention lowered. With a start she formed a suspicion he had been staring at a part of her anatomy only he had ever seen.
His gaze rose very slowly; his lips were parted and the tip of his tongue rested on his teeth. She shivered at the heated intensity of his expression.
Matilda drew herself up straight, determined not to be intimidated by him. “Was the prospect of marrying Miss Chudleigh so utterly terrifying, Captain, that you’d offer so much without limits?”
“There are limits. To my purse and my patience, as you well know.”
She shivered at the mention of his temper. If she did something he didn’t like, would he turn her over his knee again?
“Let me clarify my relationship with Miss Chudleigh because you need to know what I don’t like about the woman. Our fathers are close friends. Because of that connection, my female cousins befriended her, an awkward girl who was never asked to dance. They eased her way into society. I was persuaded to stand up with her once, and since that day she has followed me around with melting eyes in the hopes I’d single her out again. I have needed to leave entertainments because she followed me relentlessly round and round the ballroom in the most embarrassing fashion. Enough so people were laughing about her infatuation and commenting upon it. She knows nothing of me except that I’m the grandson of a duke.”
“You can be kind when it suits,” Matilda whispered, concerned for the woman’s state of mind. One dance was not enough reason to bind yourself to William Ford. “If your sisters do not make a match in two years will I be able to retire from society regardless?”
“You have my word this marriage is a temporary arrangement. If my sisters choose not to marry at all, we will discuss together what to do next.” He frowned as his hands fell away, his fingers curled into a fist at his side. “Society will be easy to fool.”
“Forgive me that I have not your confidence. I might know your nature, but you do not have the faintest idea of mine. I have no experience in being a lady.”
“I will ensure you have everything you need.”
The duke laughed as he rejoined them. “Is she not delightfully direct?”
“Indeed,” William agreed. He stood stiffly now, as if he was annoyed by the interruption.
If she failed to please her husband, and she was positive she would at some point, would she be punished for it? And why did the idea of it not terrify her more?
“What is your answer, Miss Winslow?”
She blinked. “To what?”
His jaw tensed and then he bit out, “Will. You. Marry. Me?”
“Oh,” she whispered. He was proposing with such bad grace. His attitude amused her. This was exactly how she’d picture the gruff captain proposing to anyone. She cast a quick glance at the Duke of Rutherford and saw his curt nod. Rather than risk aggravating the captain further, Matilda dipped her chin, sealing her reputation as a woman who’d tricked her employer into marrying her. After all, her other choices were just as difficult—a false life as a ruined woman living alone, or a false life as William Ford’s unwanted bride.
None promised happiness. Only one offered security.
“Speak the words,” he demanded, eyes boring into hers relentlessly.
Matilda bit her bottom lip and then squared her shoulders. “Yes, Captain. I would be honored to be your wife.”
The duke crowed happily, but she was more concerned by Captain Ford’s sudden smile. He seemed entirely too pleased with her answer, and that could not be good. Not good at all.
Seven
“William!” Evelyn shouted as she dashed across the Newberry House drawing room to greet him and then threw herself into his arms as usual.
He embraced his sister quickly and set her back on her own feet, staring down into her eager face. His baby sister was growing up, but she hadn’t lost her enthusiasm for the people she loved. He harbored hope that her exuberance might dim somewhat when in company once she was out in society. “How many times must I remind you not to run across these floors? The number of rugs on the Newberry House drawing room floor makes for a hazard to everyone’s health.”
“At least once more,” Evelyn said, then her smile dimmed as her attention flickered to his scarred cheek. “It is a miracle you’re here to scold me for doing it.”
He grunted. She had a point. He’d prefer not to think about the past months. The future was much more interesting.
He glanced around the empty room, puzzled by that fact that his sister was by herself. “What are you doing sitting here alone?”
“Nothing in particular. I was read
ing.” She twisted from side to side, making her gown float around her like waves lapping at the shore. “Victoria went to call on friends, and Audrey is”—piano keys crashed in the music room—“having difficulty with a new piece of music.” She winced. “That’s been going on for three hours actually.”
He glanced toward the sound coming from the distant music room. Audrey’s daily practice would usually span hours, but in the past the notes she struck had been much more promising.
“I’ve not heard Audrey play so badly for a very long time. It sounds as if she’s not even trying,” he said, frowning at the terrible noise.
“Audrey has been out of sorts of late.” Evelyn shrugged. “Not to worry. She will come good eventually. She always does. You did not bring Matilda with you today. I was hoping to see her before the real wedding takes place.”
“Ah, no. She is”—he’d not the faintest idea what she might be doing today, so he made up something on the spot—“resting, I imagine.”
“Why? What has she to rest from?” Evelyn’s expression turned sly as she looked up at him.
“Being employed as a maid,” he suggested. “It is a very taxing occupation.”
He considered Matilda’s hand sliding into the glove yesterday. Her skin had seemed not as soft as it ought to be for one so lovely.
“Oh, I thought you must have spent the night seducing her.” Evelyn giggled behind her hand.
He blinked and then scowled at the suggestion. Evelyn was growing up too fast to be speaking of such matters, and he was unwilling to be teased in such a manner by her. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re going to marry her, silly.” She waved her hand. “Everyone knows couples in love do the most romantic things when no one is watching.”
He set his hands to his hips. “Evelyn, you do understand your assumption was a mistake? We are not courting. We never were.”
“And yet you will marry her.” Evelyn blushed. “It seems to me that a man could not consider marriage without at least some courting having already taken place. Given the circumstances of your association with Matilda, the time the two of you might have spent alone, I imagine all sorts of improper moments might have occurred by now.”
A wistful sigh escaped Evelyn as she turned to sit in a comfortable chair. “I do look forward to being an aunt one day and cuddling my dark-haired nieces and nephews.”
Good God, his father’s influence had over taken the girl’s once-promising nature. “I assure you it was not like that. She has no romantic interest in me whatsoever. Nor I in her.” He raked a hand through his hair and followed Evelyn to sit. “She bullied me to live—threatened me with all sorts of tortures. For God’s sake, she changed bandages on my wound a dozen times a week and spoon-fed me all my meals.”
Evelyn bit her lip as tears filled her eyes, but she shook her head, preventing their fall. “And in that time I am sure she learned more about you than most new brides could ever dream of knowing about their real husbands after a long and entirely proper courtship. If caring for you—grumpy beast that you can be at such times—has not caused her to flee, then she must care for you a great deal.”
“Evelyn, Matilda and I made an arrangement that will ensure she is financially well-off so that I am free of romantic misadventures while you make your come-out. I do not want any nonsense this year.”
Evelyn straightened a little. “She was always my favorite.”
He stared at his sister in consternation. Who was this creature? “You have favorites among my servants?”
“Oh, always.” She waved her hand airily. “Some dress hair better than others. Some share gossip, and a very few will never tell your secrets if they overhear them.”
He peered hard at his sister. “Which one is Matilda?”
“The latter, of course.” Evelyn blushed. “You made a wise choice in her.”
He wasn’t completely convinced he had any choice but to marry her given Evelyn’s outburst yesterday. However, for the moment he had no complaints. “Matilda is why I am here. It occurred to me that as a servant she would not possess a great many of the articles a young lady in her new situation should have.”
“That is true. I’ve only ever seen her wear two gowns. The gray she wore the other day and a muddy brown I utterly detest. As your wife, she should have a complete wardrobe of beautiful gowns made immediately. Jewel colors I think would offset her rich complexion.”
That was what he’d concluded at midnight last night. He’d been musing about the changes he’d need to make in his life to accommodate a temporary wife. He’d spent the hours after midnight debating the merits of where to keep her after the marriage too. She’d left the servants’ quarters already since she should act the part before the household staff as well as out in society.
There was only one bedchamber on the first floor. His. He’d eventually decided to keep her in the front guest bedchamber on the second floor after they married properly, so she would have a view over the rooftops of London. Her room was located directly over the drawing room where he liked to spend his evenings when at home. He would be able to hear her walking about her chamber in the late evening before he went to sleep. He would know when she was restless. He would know where she was at all times.
“I am going to need help.”
Evelyn beamed. “For this I need Audrey. We would only be too happy to take care of Matilda’s wardrobe for you.”
“No.” He wanted help, not to be pushed aside. “I want to have the final say on her wardrobe, but I would appreciate suggestions and company on a shopping expedition this morning.”
Evelyn’s brow crinkled. “You know women must be fitted for gowns in person.”
“Yes, but I will choose the styles and fabrics today. Then you or Audrey can direct me to a competent dressmaker who can hold her tongue.”
She stared at him in horror. “But William, what will Matilda say if you make all the important decisions for her?”
He expected her to accept. He had a vision in his head, an image of how he’d like Matilda to dress, that he would see come to pass. “I am confident she will comply.” William folded his arms across his chest, unwilling to be turned from his decision. “She cannot be seen about town in her current garments, so we will have to expand her wardrobe a little until we are actually married, and then she may shop to her heart’s content.”
“That is a little cold, even for you.”
“Not at all. Part of our agreement is that I fund her purchases for the next two years. She can hardly be discontent that I might choose some of it to begin with.”
“I feel so bad. I made you get married.” Evelyn winced, wringing her hands. “You don’t say you are, but are you sure you are not very annoyed about the match?”
“No. I’m not in the least annoyed about it.” He shook his head. It wasn’t a marriage meant to last, so he had no expectations. No dreams would be dashed when the mistaken affair was over. “Matilda suits my purpose.”
Evelyn punched her hands to her hips. “You are so utterly without romance in your soul. It is such a surprise to me that she said yes to you at all.”
“It was indeed. She could have made quite a scene if she’d been anyone else.” However, she’d hardly have a comparably comfortable life if married to that scoundrel Harry Lloyd, if he’d ever intended to do more than dangle a hint of a wedding ring beneath her pretty nose. William was confident he was saving Matilda from very disagreeable life indeed, which was why he’d not corrected her wild assumption of the other man’s death. With William, their eventual separation might cause a bit of a scandal in the beginning, but she would have the funds to escape to a better life in the end.
It was done, or almost done, and they would wed soon. He was rather anxious that nothing should get in their way on this unexpected trip to the altar. Undeterred by his apparent marriage, Maria Chudleigh had passed by his home in a slow-moving open carriage twice that morning that he had witnessed. She had stared at
the house, looking for signs of him or Matilda perhaps. The sooner he was squared away with Matilda as his wife, the sooner he could breathe easily.
“Better to be unromantic than a fool in love. Which reminds me, I understand you offered a vast array of advice for my recovery.”
“Matilda told you of my letters,” Evelyn said, beaming.
“She mentioned them in passing but was concerned about your state of mind in suggesting such actions. A gold crown over my heart? Where did you think a servant might acquire one of those? By stealing it from me in the first place?”
Evelyn only laughed. “How sad that she is as equally unromantic as you!”
“That suits me too. I am spared any nonsense with her.” He held out his arm. “Come along, Evelyn. Shall we lure Audrey away from what troubles her?”
Audrey was only too happy to abandon her music to accompany them. “This would be more enjoyable if your bride was with us,” Audrey insisted as the carriage rolled along toward Bond Street. “We could fetch her with no trouble.”
“She is resting,” he repeated for Audrey’s benefit. “I will not have her disturbed today.”
Audrey shook her head. “She must be lonely locked up in that house.”
“She is not a prisoner.” William squirmed though. He’d not thought she might become bored. “I am sure she is fine, and Dawson is on hand to see she has everything she might need today.”
Audrey appeared unconvinced. “Still, the other servants could be difficult for her. They have their own way of doing things.”
His conscience nagged him. He’d promised Dawson an interview last night. In the excitement of his upcoming change of status to husband, he’d not had time to see him. He’d thought the man wanted to discuss the running of the servants’ hall and Matilda’s employment. She was free of that now, wasn’t she? “Difficult how?”
“The elevation of a servant can cause resentment within a household. Matilda was always one of the quiet ones and might have trouble giving orders. I often thought she was unpopular with the other maids before and now…” Audrey did not finish the thought, but he received a clear impression.