by Heather Boyd
Matilda gazed at him with sparkling eyes and then leaned forward, at last appearing to forget she was sitting down to breakfast in her unmentionables, to touch his arm. “How clever of us to have picked the same name!”
A little thrill swept through him. That was the first time Matilda had referred to them as a couple, and he liked the sound on her lips. He also liked that she’d reached for him. It was the first time since their marriage. The first time even since he’d left his sick bed.
Since Matilda appeared disinterested in eating, William took her hand and raised her from her chair, then returned her to the center of the room where she could see her reflection well. He collected her new gown, a soft green muslin with yellow flowers embroidered at the neck, sleeves and hem, and buttoned her up in it. Even though the gown was of a modest design, dressing her aroused him enough that his cock swelled inside his breaches.
Only the faintest hitch in Matilda’s breathing suggested she’d noticed his state, but he ignored his condition and her reaction.
They were not going to remain married, and he believed taking liberties would only cause problems for both of them. The complication of a pregnancy would extend the duration of their arrangement. If she birthed a boy, the child would be his heir and their arrangement might have to continue indefinitely.
Matilda wasn’t meant for a life with him. But he wanted to educate her in the ways of his world, and perhaps if their natures aligned the way he hoped, he might tempt her to enjoy what they did together.
When she was stylishly dressed in the manner he preferred, modest chain about her neck and blushing deeply from his attention and compliments, he grinned. “Wife.”
Her answering smile was just a little embarrassed. “Husband.”
He held out his arm. “Let us go inspect this carriage of Sally’s, and if it suits our purpose we can move on to the second task of the day.”
“What might that be?”
“There is a litter of puppies waiting for our inspection in the adjoining mews. They are too young to be taken from their mother today but in a few weeks, if you like, we can bring one home with us. Shall we walk?”
Matilda had kept to the house and the drawing room a little more than he considered healthy. He wanted her seen on his arm. He wanted her to want to spend time with him.
“I would like that,” she agreed, a hesitant smile blooming on her lips.
He paused to add a stylish bonnet to her head, passed her short kid gloves to slip on while he collected his own possessions and a few coins. He escorted her down the staircase and out onto the street, well pleased with how the morning had gone between them.
Dressing her had been both arousing and comforting. He could stand a little more togetherness if she would only agree.
Matilda, however, let out a shaky breath as soon as they were out of sight of home.
He clasped his hands behind his back as they strolled along side by side. “You have nothing to be nervous about.”
“Surely you must regret your grandfather’s interference. You’ve only just recovered, and now you are saddled with a wife. I am afraid I have not been a very good wife to you.”
He wasn’t concerned, but he was curious about her opinion on marriage. “What sort of wife should you be?”
“I don’t know,” she said, clearly worried. “I never imagined marrying a stranger.”
He raised a brow. “Would it surprise you to learn that you know my nature better than anyone? I’m not the sort of man to reveal my habits to just anyone.”
She blushed again. “I do know your nature, but you do not know me.”
“You might not have noticed, but I was attempting to fill in the gaps of my knowledge this morning over breakfast.” He fell silent as they strolled side by side for a while. They kept pace easily enough, and he was pleased he did not have to shorten his strides very much at all to match hers. “Many marriages among the ton are hardly ever more than a business arrangement.” He shrugged. “As is ours to a degree, I suppose, but I hope that we might become friends.”
“Friends?”
“Well, yes.” He leaned toward her. “It will be a long and trying affair if you keep avoiding me.”
Her hand rose to her lips guiltily. “I’ve hidden from you this week.”
“I did notice that, but no more. Agreed?”
“Yes, William.”
He took her arm to help her across the street and then decided to keep it, steering her around people and obstacles in their path.
Miss Chudleigh’s carriage was also approaching them. He ignored the woman whose face was pressed to the glass and smiled at Matilda as they carried on at an unhurried pace. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Yes, of course.”
William stopped once Miss Chudleigh’s carriage was out of sight. “How did you feel after I spanked you last year?”
Her eyes widened in shock. “I… I cried,” she whispered, glancing around to see who was near.
He patted her hand and drew her along the street again. “You did not cry this morning?”
“No. It did not hurt as much.”
Holding back had been quite deliberate. “Did you tell anyone what we did last year?”
She shook her head quickly. “But I think Dawson might have heard us.”
That was what he’d suspected too. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“I was sure no one would believe me,” she admitted. “I have not been spanked since I was a little girl.”
He moved her away from a hawker selling pigeon pies, keen to keep their conversation going without distractions. “I enjoyed it, you know. Spanking you then, and this morning too. I find discipline pleasurable.”
A shocked gasp left her pink lips. “You like hurting me?”
He had indeed. The memory of her red bottom had warmed many of his evenings while he’d been away. “What I did to you caused no lasting harm.”
“I felt pain the next day every time I sat down, and this morning.”
He chuckled. “That pleases me.”
She stopped then, slipping from his grip. “Why?”
“Because I am ashamed to say I wanted you to remember me when I went back to my ship. My hand on your skin, my attention on you. I was brought up to believe a gentleman is not supposed to dally with the hired help. You have been my greatest test and greatest failure. There must be a reason for that.” He considered her. It was strange how much he was drawn to her. “Do you remember everything I did last year?”
She blushed again and glanced left and right.
Was she too shy to admit what had occurred after the spanking even now they were married? He leaned close, close enough that his breath would tickle he ear. “I wasn’t the only one aroused by the spanking, was I?”
She closed her eyes as he drew back, as if that action would deny the truth of what they had enjoyed together. When he’d spanked her bottom red last year, the quality and volume of her moans had tempted him to slip his hand between her legs. She’d been so wet with arousal that he’d rubbed her clitoris until she’d cried out in pleasure a few short minutes later. Some women truly enjoyed punishment, and he’d felt extremely proud he’d discovered Matilda’s secret delight and brought her fulfillment that day.
It had been a memorable moment with her, and he wanted more of that. When she was a servant he shouldn’t have done it again, but with her being his wife, they could indulge their passions in private as long as he remembered not to ruin her.
But only if she agreed.
“You didn’t ask me to stop; you didn’t ask to be released. You lay across my knee, moaning to every beat of my hand against your skin.” He captured her hand. “And when I judged the pain enough, I rewarded you with pleasure.”
Matilda trembled. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I couldn’t have left you in such a state of arousal and not provided complete satisfaction. That would have been callous and unkind.”
A ho
t blush rose up her cheeks, warming her skin as much as it had been that day.
“You like it,” he whispered to her after a couple had passed them by. “There are many women who enjoy a strong hand and direction. There is nothing to be uncomfortable about. You like how I make you feel, and I like taking care of you.”
She shook her head. “I was innocent until that day.”
“You are innocent still, Matilda. I don’t intend to change that fact no matter how many times you spill across my knee. I can pleasure you without taking your virtue. I would like to touch you intimately very much.” He glanced ahead, noticing Miss Chudleigh’s carriage had somehow circled around the block very quickly to roll past them again. He set his arm about Matilda’s back and turned her toward the adjacent buildings so she did not notice the woman was watching their every move. She might find it as unnerving as he did. “Ah, here we are. The Duke of Rutherford’s London residence, Newberry House. What do you think?”
Matilda glanced ahead at the massive structure, but he could tell by the way her breath was rushed that she was fighting with herself, struggling not to be affected by their frank discussion of pleasure and pain, all while his arm remained curled about her body.
“Impressive,” she whispered.
“Yes, you are. The house also to a lesser extent.” He grinned when she spluttered in shock at his words. He might not always be a charming conversationalist, but when the time was right he could utter honest compliments. Matilda challenged him in a way he’d not expected. There was more to her than met his eager eyes. She had strength and courage, two traits utterly necessary for any real wife of his to possess.
She made him want to discover her depths, valleys, and limits. “We will discuss the matter of satisfying your desires at a later time when we can speak freely again. Agreed?”
She stared at him and then slowly nodded. “Yes, William.”
Ten
Matilda held her breath as the announcement of their arrival was made to a full room. “Captain Ford and Mrs. William Ford.”
Her first ever ball.
Her first evening out as William’s wife.
Matilda’s heart began to pound in time with the thrumming of a dozen dancing feet as her husband led her into a room lit by a hundred candles at least. The light reflected off four enormous mirrors that hung on the four walls of the Cavendish ballroom and dazzled her eyes. The sparkling windows were shrouded by an abundance of heavy burgundy drapes, and gold braid held them back to reveal the darkness of night beyond.
She grew weary thinking of the work involved to keep this room clean, only to notice a heartbeat later how many disapproving stares were aimed in her direction.
A tall man of middle years swung around. “You’re late,” he complained to William. He held out his hand though. “I thought you would miss my ball altogether.”
“Forgive me, Cavendish.” William glanced her way. “I lost all track of time.”
The man—whom she finished cataloging at wearing three rings on each hand, one obscenely large ruby cravat pin, and gold-headed walking stick—glanced her way with a raised eyebrow. “You should speak to her about that.”
William muttered softly. “Later.”
“I would advise not to delay.”
“Matilda, darling.” William released her. “Might I present His Grace, the Duke of Cavendish?”
Matilda dipped a curtsy to their host, remembering William’s instructions on the length and depth that would be required for meeting this particular man. He was not of royal blood, but he was extremely important in society. William expressed a wish that of all the instructions, she must pay most attention to this one. “Your Grace. It is an honor to meet you.”
Apparently appeased, the man bowed. “Madam.” He clicked his fingers, and a younger but elegant gentleman appeared almost immediately. Not dressed as flamboyantly as the host but very impressive just the same. “Lord Fox. Captain Ford. I trust you remember each other.”
“I do indeed. A pleasure to see you again, my lord,” William said.
The younger man, much warmer in manner than their host, grinned widely. “Captain and Mrs. Ford. I have looked forward to this meeting most eagerly.”
The fellow took her hand and squeezed her fingers. “Welcome among us, my dear woman. I hope you will allow me to introduce you to my wife very soon.”
“I should be very pleased to make her acquaintance.” She eased closer to William. Such a warm greeting after the frost of their host was just a touch disconcerting.
“Fox, see that my guests are comfortable.” The duke moved away without waiting for a response.
Lord Fox drew them deeper into the room, signaling to a nearby waiter. After William had handed her a glass of punch, they drew closer together to speak. “Everyone is talking about the shock of your marriage,” Lord Fox said in a low tone that reached her ears too.
“Let them.” William scowled.
“I just wanted to warn you that Cavendish is very concerned you have made a grave error in judgment.” Lord Fox glanced her way, frowning. “You know how he feels about misalliances.”
William straightened, capturing Matilda’s arm to wrap about his. “I know what I’m doing.”
Fox appeared ready to say more but suddenly glanced around. He grinned, a look of pure joy crossing his features. “Ah, here comes my one and only to say hello.”
A voluptuous woman a little older than Matilda, eyes bright with excitement, approached and held out her hand to William. “Darling.”
Matilda stared at William in shock as he returned the affectionate greeting. “It is good to see you again, Lady Fox. I have missed our discussions.”
Coldness filled Matilda as she was introduced. The woman was exquisitely dressed and had a pampered air about her. She also knew William very well. Matilda managed an adequate curtsy. “My lady.”
Lady Fox glanced away to William. “So this is the woman who replaced me in your affections.”
William coughed, glancing at the still smiling Lord Fox. “You’ve been married many years, pet.”
She shuddered and pasted a smile on her face. “The happiest five years of my life, Billy.”
William’s entire body tensed at the nickname, and the pair engaged in a staring match. Matilda grew uncomfortable after a few moments, but Lord Fox only smiled.
Lady Fox was the first to break eye contact. She met Matilda’s gaze again. “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Ford. I wish you both every happiness.”
“Thank you.”
William turned to Lord Fox. “How are your children?”
“Thriving,” Lord Fox exclaimed, then spoke expansively about his offspring for several minutes.
Lady Fox assessed Matilda again through narrowed eyes until Matilda shifted uncomfortably toward William. The corner of Lady Fox’s mouth quirked a little in response, which brought a blush to Matilda’s cheeks. She fought it, remembering William’s admonishment that she must behave like she belonged. Matilda did not like to be stared at. She did not feel comfortable around this woman or like the way she spoke to William so intimately. She never wished to meet the woman again.
“I am very pleased to hear it,” William replied. “Ah, I see my sisters. I had better go greet them before they make a mad dash along the length of the ballroom to reach us. I hope to see you again soon.”
“And you too.” Lady Fox nodded. “You must come to dinner, Billy. It shall be like old times.”
William nodded. “We look forward to it, pet.”
Steered across the room by William’s guiding hand beneath hers, Matilda silently fumed. The woman was outrageous. The pair had been flirting right under her nose. She would not go to any dinner that Lady Fox hosted or attended. She would plead a headache or any other nonsense just so she might never have to see her again.
“Sister dear,” Victoria gushed, embracing her gently. Matilda appreciated her caution. She liked this gown too much to wish it to be crushed so early in the
evening. “You are stunning. William apparently does have good taste.”
“Of course I do.” He grumbled, then moved to greet a group of men nearby. Matilda noticed Mr. Cobb whispering in William’s ear again. Her husband shook his head firmly. “I cannot tonight.”
Audrey frowned at her brother. “We worried you were not coming.”
“I… ah,” she began. Being late was not exactly her fault. “I was not sure which jewels to wear, but William insisted on his first gift in the end,” she whispered.
“His mother’s pretty pendant has always looked very well on you,” Evelyn said softly.
Matilda covered the piece with her fingers. She had not known she was wearing a family heirloom. If she had, she would have insisted on not wearing it all the time. She would have given it back. “Did this belong to his late mother?”
“Oh, yes. William would never allow us to wear the piece, even though we begged him often,” Victoria said and then grinned widely. “He trusts you more than he ever did us.”
Musicians announced a dance, and William turned to her. “Will you dance with me, Mrs. Ford?”
“I’d be very happy to, Captain.”
He took her hand and led her onto the dance floor. Out here among the other dancers, she was uncomfortable. It was as if she’d stepped onto the stage of a great performance. And perhaps it was. Tonight she was meant to be in love.
She met William’s eyes, placed her trust in him to guide her safely as they stepped off into her very first waltz before witnesses. At home, she’d feared she’d stumble, but with William’s hand firm on her back and his attention fixed on her, she soon became lost in his dark gaze.
Her pulse sped up with every turn, every brush of his legs against her gown. He was a very good dancer, his grip sure and comforting. He seemed very skilled to keep their spinning tightly controlled. When the dance came to an end, Matilda was so wrapped up in him that she barely registered they’d stopped moving. He smiled down at her a long moment. “Lovely. Thank you for the dance.”