by Gayle Callen
His eyes widened, then crinkled with amusement. He looked past her toward the dining room and sighed. “Speaking of things you’re not telling me, what is this about you and Susanna in the laboratory today, right after we discussed bringing her back into the folds of Society?”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“I assumed we were of one mind, that she needs to give a woman’s daily routine a try.”
“So you do not want her to pursue the things she loves?”
He hesitated. “I was hoping to convince her to find other, more feminine pursuits.”
“You didn’t make that clear to me. I think painting is a very typical pursuit for a young lady.”
He put his hands on his hips as he stared down at her, saying nothing.
She sighed. “Very well, painting musculature for an anatomist is not very typical. Do you really think she should give it up?” She let her voice express her doubt, but did not contradict him. How could she, in her role as his wife?
“Perhaps there are men who think it unseemly—if they even know about it.”
“A few may,” she mused.
“Which means they told a few more.”
“I see. What would prompt Susanna to give up something she loves, for a future that might never happen?”
To her surprise, he stepped closer to her. “We can show her what a happy marriage can be like. You know, she grew up with only our parents’ strained relationship to emulate.”
Emily licked her suddenly dry lips, his chest so broad before her. “Our happy marriage you cannot even remember?”
He touched her chin, lifting it. “I want to remember. I will remember. You captivate me, Emily.”
For a moment she thought he might kiss her, right in the corridor while his family waited luncheon for them. She wanted him to. She needed him to be captivated.
But she didn’t want him to remember.
She smiled and touched his chest. “I am beside myself with curiosity. Did you find answers to all your questions when you spoke to your father? Or am I still a mystery to you?”
He smiled. “My parents are very fond of you. But I hear they weren’t totally surprised when you showed up on their doorstep. They said they had received a letter from your parish vicar in anticipation of your arrival last year.”
Tension contracted her stomach, chasing away all the pleasurable feelings he’d inspired. “Yes, I hadn’t known the dear man was sending it.”
“Was he the man who married us? I could not remember his name, and neither could my parents.”
“He was.” She wanted to stroll to the windows, try to find air to breathe, but didn’t dare give evidence of retreat. “Mr. Tillman. He’s dead now,” she said impassively, and she saw the flash of memory as a pillow was held over his face. She could not control her shudder.
“I am sorry to remind you of such sad tidings,” Matthew said, putting his hand on her shoulder.
“You couldn’t have known.”
“Was I supposed to remember?”
The faint pain in his voice made her look at him again. “No, this is nothing you’ve forgotten. He died just before I arrived here.”
He held out his arm to her. “Let’s put such sadness behind us. Shall we rejoin my family?”
She nodded, hiding her relief.
During luncheon, Matthew found himself watching Peter Derby, who did his best to not even glance at Emily, and any time Peter looked at him, it was a tentative glance. Matthew made it a point to smile at him, to let him know that his past behavior toward Emily was understandable.
“What have you been doing with yourself these past few years, Peter?” he asked.
“The usual social engagements, of course. I accompany my mother when she needs me, and assist my brother with the management of our lands. Although right now, as I explained earlier to Lady Rosa, I am more idle than usual, as my mother and brother have gone north to visit her sick aunt. I stayed behind on my brother’s behalf.”
Lady Rosa inclined her head to Peter. “And so I told him he should not stay at home alone. He should spend several days here with us.”
She was not very good at hiding the look she gave each of her daughters. Both of them smiled politely.
“This is very gracious of you, Lady Rosa,” Peter said, his eyes bright. “Matthew, I would enjoy hearing all about your time in India.”
Matthew smiled. “Of course.”
Peter turned to the Leland sisters and opened his mouth as if to speak, but Rebecca interrupted.
“Did you see the abundance of mail we received today?” she asked, too brightly, of the entire room.
Lady Rosa smiled. “Did you receive any special correspondence, Rebecca?”
She blushed. “Nothing unusual, Mama. Just an invitation to tea with Lady Brumley.”
“Ah, and isn’t her son handsome?”
Matthew watched his sister smile and shrug, and it could have been a coy move, but…it wasn’t. For a brief moment he thought she seemed uninterested. Wasn’t she supposed to be the sister eager for marriage? What had been going on here the last two years? he wondered with mild disbelief.
Rebecca continued, “Emily, I set your letter beside your plate.”
Matthew’s gaze shot to Emily, who only smiled.
“All of the newest invitations also included Matthew in the address,” Rebecca added.
“Then the whirlwind has begun,” the professor said dryly.
Matthew smiled at Rebecca. “Who are they from?”
She listed the invitations from various families to breakfasts, dinners, and even a ball there in the country. He recognized all the names as friends or relatives, and although he smiled and made the right responses, even frowned as if his memory failed him once or twice, he continued to watch Emily. She had received a single letter, and for a moment betrayed confusion as she looked at the name affixed to it. Did she not receive many letters? Or just not recognize the name? She didn’t open it at the table.
Lady Rosa cleared her throat, and the table became silent. “To celebrate your homecoming, Matthew, I propose that we invite the entire family to come at the end of the week, and that during their visit, we host a ball for all of our neighbors.”
“That sounds fine,” he said. He could confide in his cousins, Daniel and Christopher. The three of them had always been able to solve a problem together.
After a long conversation about who they would invite to the ball, Lady Rosa asked, “And what are you doing this afternoon, Matthew?”
“Emily and I are going riding.”
Susanna brightened. “Can I c—”
She broke off as Rebecca elbowed her.
When Lady Rosa stood up, everyone else joined her. “Mr. Derby, do send for your things. I was very serious about you joining us. You young people will have so much to do together.”
“I’ll journey home this afternoon, my lady,” Peter said. “I have correspondence to take care of before returning.”
As everyone left the dining room, Matthew didn’t realize that Emily was gone until he turned around. If she was simply changing into her riding clothes, why not say so?
He caught Reggie’s arm. “Did you see which way Emily went?” he asked in a low voice.
“Sorry, I thought you were keeping close tabs on your wife.”
He laughed. “I don’t have time right now. Susanna?” he called, seeing his sister reach the end of the corridor.
She turned back to him, and when she saw Peter going a different way, smiled and approached Matthew.
“I have something to discuss with you,” he said, ignoring her reaction to Peter—for now. “Reggie, what are you doing today?” he asked as his friend moved away.
Reggie turned around but kept walking. “Obviously not riding with you,” he said, and waved.
By then Susanna stood next to Matthew, who took her arm and led her into a smaller drawing room across the corridor from the dining room. Lady Rosa hesitated, her
expression concerned. He smiled as he closed the door without inviting her inside.
When he turned around, Susanna’s arms were folded over her chest, her chin lifted, spectacles glittering on her nose.
Matthew blinked at her. “Is something wrong?”
“It depends what you mean to say,” she answered coolly.
“Very well, I’ll come right to the point. I’m worried about you.”
She sighed loudly and threw her arms wide. “You’ve been talking to Mama and Papa about my spinsterhood, haven’t you?”
“You speak like it’s a foregone conclusion.”
“I am twenty-six years old, Matthew. Let me be. My life is as I wish it, and I am happy. Even Mama has accepted it.”
“I haven’t. And Emily hasn’t.”
Susanna looked briefly stricken. “Emily? But she and I—”
“She did not betray any confidences, let me make that clear. But she is a woman who has known what it is like to feel alone in the world. She is worried about that happening to you.”
“Alone? But I have all of you, my aunts, and my cousins. How could I be alone?”
“Emily thought she had a large family to protect her, and they were all taken from her in one moment of heartbreak.” He raised both hands. “I know you have extended family, and such a tragedy is highly unlikely, but we’re both concerned that you will end up feeling alone, when everyone has their own family but you.”
“I like being alone.”
But she spoke too quickly.
“That may be. But much as we hate to consider it, someday our parents will be gone, and Rebecca and I will have our own households. I do not think your inheritance will be enough for you to live very comfortably alone.”
“So I’ll live with you.”
“And you can do so forever. But…Emily and I plan to have many children.” A small lie to persuade his sister.
“I can help her.”
“But will it be easy to watch, knowing you’ll never have any of your own?”
Susanna swallowed, saying nothing for a moment. “I will take my life as God sees fit to grant me.”
“Then do me a favor. Give me the next few weeks. I want you to accompany me to every event I attend. I want to show off my accomplished little sister.”
“Accomplished?” She gave an awkward laugh. “Will you hide my bluestocking ways?”
“Not hide, no,” he said gently. “But I’ll ask you to refrain from them for just a while. This isn’t about appeasing Mother—it’s about making sure there is not a man out there for you to love, one who would accept you in every way, if given a chance.”
“When did you become a romantic?” she asked with suspicion, but her voice was mild.
“Perhaps Emily made me one.”
“You are very different since your marriage.”
He did not explain that marriage had had nothing to do with the way he’d changed his life. “I hope you mean that in a good way.”
“You are happier, Matthew,” she said softly, touching his arm. “The entire family has noticed. And if only for that reason—and my deep joy at your return—I will briefly acquiesce to what you’re asking of me.”
He smiled. “Thank you.”
“It will be very difficult, do not doubt that.”
“Oh, I know. We males of the species are terribly difficult to get along with. But I thank you for humoring me.”
“We’ll have to prepare Mama. Otherwise she will faint with shock when I willingly attend the dinner tonight.”
Matthew decided not to let her know he’d already discussed her problem with his parents. As they left the drawing room side by side, he was already focusing on Emily, and the afternoon he had planned with her.
Emily couldn’t return to Matthew’s suite—he would certainly come upon her reading the letter, and she couldn’t risk that. So she headed for the library and closed the door behind her.
Then she looked at the letter again, angry with herself for the way her hands shook. The penmanship was a man’s. Who would be writing to her?
She broke the wax and unfolded the single piece of paper. Her stomach twisted with fear when she saw the initial at the bottom. Then she forced herself to read.
My Dearest Emily,
I was so touched to read about the return of Captain Leland. Have you told him you’re not his wife? Does he know the other things you’ve done? Let us discuss your plans. I have already arrived nearby, and will contact you soon.
S.
Emily’s eyes finally blurred as she reread the threat again, and then once more. Stanwood had found her at last. She’d always known there was a chance, but as the months went by, she thought herself safe.
Matthew’s return—and her crime—had finally given Stanwood new leverage against her. She impatiently pushed away her guilt, for it could only weaken her. All she could do was try harder to make Matthew love her, and think of what she’d say to persuade Stanwood to abandon any mad scheme he’d concocted. He was a murderer, and she was someone now, Captain Leland’s wife. Stanwood had no proof otherwise.
She tossed the letter onto the open coal fire, watched the flame light, and walked swiftly from the room.
It had been difficult to sneak away from Matthew, the entire Leland family, and the servants, but he’d managed it. Now he was hidden within an overgrowth of tropical ferns in the conservatory, watching Emily Leland through the open library doors. He could tell nothing from her expression as she read the letter. Why had she felt the need to hide from the family?
She tossed it onto the coals before leaving the room. He silently ran in and managed to pull out the charred paper. Dropping it to the marble hearth, he put out the flame with his foot, then picked it up, holding two scraps together.
Most of the letter was gone, but he did see “you’re not his wife” and “will contact you soon.”
He felt stunned at the treacherous implications for the family. He would have to keep a very close eye on Emily Leland—or whoever she actually was.
♥ Uploaded by Coral ♥
Chapter 7
Emily leaned her forearms against the stone balustrade of the terrace, looking out over Madingley Court’s beautiful park, the one Matthew didn’t remember. As she squinted up at the overcast sky, she thought again of the letter from Stanwood. Though nausea still churned in her stomach, she was determined to keep a clear head, to protect herself. This afternoon alone with Matthew, flirting and enticing, would be a good start.
Someone spoke her name, making her jump. She turned around to see Matthew’s smiling face.
“My, you’re jumpy,” he said casually.
His gaze dipped down to her breasts, which were already rising and falling far too quickly with each breath. And his intimate look only encouraged her reaction.
She pasted a smile on her face. “I didn’t even hear you cross the terrace.”
“It’s all my expert training in the art of sneaking up on people.”
“Then you’re a success.”
Before she could even ask, he indicated the basket in his hand. “Treats in case we’re hungry.”
She smiled. “Your mother?”
“Actually, my sisters.”
“They are thoughtful young ladies,” she said, leaving the balustrade to walk down the broad steps to the gravel path.
Matthew walked at her side. “I spoke to Susanna. She agreed to my proposal.”
Emily widened her eyes. “So easily?”
“I think she wants to please her brother who’s so recently back from the dead.” He grinned. “And the way marriage has changed me also persuaded her.”
She deliberately brushed her shoulder against his. “We wives work magic on our husbands’ stern temperaments.”
He laughed. “Then we begin tonight. She’ll see that she doesn’t have to be alone.”
“It can be a terrible thing,” she said, a shade too solemnly.
He glanced at her with sympathy, then took
her hand. His was warm, rough with calluses, so very different from hers.
“Much as I love my sisters,” he said softly, “today I am finding you much more interesting.”
She forced a laugh. “But we have all afternoon to talk.”
“Don’t we have the rest of our lives?”
She caught her breath. When she met his gaze, she felt the power of him, the intent focus of those changeable eyes. How could any woman resist him? She squeezed his hand.
At the main stable, grooms and stable boys were hanging on the paddock rails, staring at Matthew with open curiosity.
“I recognize no one,” he said quietly.
She gave him a reassuring glance. “They’re young boys. They grow like weeds in two years. Why would you recognize them? I’ll tell the head groom that we’d like two horses saddled.”
She went inside, and by the time she returned, Matthew was sitting on the rail between all the young stable boys.
“No, I tell you, it wasn’t jolly fun to aim your musket at the enemy and fire,” he was saying. “And a soldier only does so because of his duty to queen and country.”
The boys watched him solemnly.
“They thought ye was dead,” said an older lad, John, with several missing front teeth.
“It was a terrible strain on my family. I’m certain you all did your best to help them during the difficult times.”
“Is Mrs. Leland happy now?” John asked. “She sometimes seems so sad.”
Matthew’s eyes found her. She had done her best to portray a woman in mourning.
“It is a sad thing when a wife thinks her husband is dead,” Matthew said, not taking his eyes from her. “Does she come to visit the stables often, boys?”
She felt uncomfortable, uncertain of his purpose. Why did he not ask her how often she liked to ride?
“Usually when she goes to the village,” John said candidly. “And that’s a lot.”
Just then, Lavenham, the head groom, emerged from the gloomy recesses of the stable leading two saddled horses. He gave her a polite nod, but was already looking past her to grin broadly at Matthew.