Never Marry a Stranger

by Gayle Callen

  Susanna’s demeanor brought Matthew back into the present. She looked like she was headed for the French guillotine, resigned and no longer fighting her fate.

  He arched a brow at her. She heaved a great sigh and donned a smile that showed every tooth in her head.

  He approached his sister and spoke softly. “I thought you only needed your spectacles for reading or painting.”

  “I do.” Light reflected off the lenses as she gave him a stare that was almost mutinous.

  “They hide your lovely brown eyes.”

  With another sigh, she removed them and slid them into the reticule dangling from her wrist.

  “Thank you,” he said, trying to be solemn.

  “Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “Do not try to make me believe you are only suffering through a brotherly duty. You are enjoying yourself.”

  “I always enjoy myself—now.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “That is another thing that is different about you. You didn’t even protest going to this dinner, when you used to tolerate them before. You haven’t even asked if there’s going to be dancing—you used to hate to dance.”

  And he had. Every young lady he used to dance with had wanted a proper courtship and marriage—so very boring. All he’d wanted to do was shock them with the lascivious direction of his thoughts, but he’d held himself back. Now he had his own woman to seduce, and the rest of them paled in his memory like ghosts of a forgotten past.

  “If there’s dancing, you will dance,” Matthew said. “It’s part of our bargain.”

  “Yes, Captain,” she said grimly, giving him a salute.

  An hour later, when they all stood in Lord Sydney’s drawing room with another dozen guests, Matthew lost sight of Susanna in the face of an eager crowd. They gathered about him, all talking at once, the ladies dabbing their eyes and repeatedly hugging Lady Rosa, the men clapping Professor Leland on the back. Over and over Matthew explained how the mistake of his death announcement had happened. At least a half dozen times the women exclaimed over “dear” Emily’s bravery until Emily blushed at last.

  He noticed that Emily remained with his family and not the other women, but then again, his parents had warned him that her closest friends were his sisters.

  When Reggie brought him a claret, Matthew was able to step back against the wall. He downed a healthy swallow. “It’s so close in here, it might as well be summer.”

  Reggie glanced past him, arching a brow.

  “Or perhaps there’s another reason you’re overheated?”

  Matthew followed his gaze and saw Emily standing with Rebecca. He smiled. “Why, yes, perhaps there is a contributing factor. But where is Susanna?” Then he caught sight of her against the far wall, amidst the elder ladies and the chaperones. He groaned. “So much for our bargain.”

  When Reggie expressed his curiosity, Matthew told him about wanting to help Susanna.

  “She is a lovely girl,” Reggie said. “I don’t see the problem.”

  “The problem is she’s not a girl, but a woman, a not-quite-so-young woman.”

  Reggie shrugged. “Give her time. This is only the first night of your bargain. Instead, tell me about your day with Emily.”

  Matthew’s focus returned to his “wife,” although he did look about them to make sure he could speak without being overheard. “She is wily,” he began slowly.

  “You still say that with admiration. The bloom is not yet off the rose?”

  Matthew chuckled. “I find myself more and more intrigued. Yet I am ever practical. Do you remember a Mr. Tillman, a vicar near Southampton?”

  “My mother despaired of me ever being a churchgoer,” Reggie said, taking a healthy sip of his claret.

  “So that is a no?”

  Reggie only grinned.

  “Apparently, he ‘married’ us. His signature is on the forged license. I sent a letter today to the duke’s investigator to look into Emily’s background, specifically this vicar, whom she claims she worked closely with.”

  “Worked closely?” Reggie said dubiously.

  Matthew gave a soft snort. “Charity work with the other ladies of her village.”

  “Ah. And you don’t believe it?”

  “I don’t really know what to believe. I am keeping an open mind. It will be several days before I receive an answer.” His smile faded and he found himself once again studying Emily. Softly, he said, “What did she do when she found herself alone after her family’s death? Assuming her childhood was as she said, why wouldn’t a beautiful, well-bred woman just marry a man if she needed to support herself? Unless this marriage she’d created set her free to do as she wished.”

  “Yet what has she done?” Reggie asked.

  “That’s it, exactly. I heard today that she rides into the village often. I’ll pursue that next.”

  “Someone approaches,” Reggie said in warning.

  They both focused on Peter Derby, making his way through the milling guests. Matthew watched him glance Emily’s way where she stood with the rest of the Leland family.

  “Is that regret in Mr. Derby’s eyes?” Reggie asked.

  Matthew heard his friend’s smothered laughter, and though he joined it, he spoke seriously. “Am I supposed to watch a parade of men lusting after her, wondering which will be the one who isn’t what he seemed, perhaps her accomplice?”

  “But Peter Derby?” Reggie said doubtfully.

  “He was her suitor after all.”

  Emily must have noticed Peter’s glance, for she joined him to approach Matthew and Reggie.

  Matthew greeted Peter, then let his smile deepen for Emily. She responded by taking his arm and giving it a squeeze.

  “Matthew,” Peter said amiably. “Quite the crowd tonight. I’m surprised you even have a moment to yourself.”

  “Returning from the dead makes one popular,” Reggie said.

  Peter grinned. “I’ll have to try that.”

  “Oh, no, you mustn’t,” Emily said, her voice full of mock sincerity. When the three men stared at her, she continued, “How could you expect such a ruse to succeed twice?”

  Peter laughed heartily. “Mrs. Leland, your wit is so subtle.”

  Matthew felt Reggie’s glance but ignored it. Flirting with a woman in front of her husband was an unusual tactic. But of course, Emily wasn’t his wife, he reminded himself.

  Then why was he once again feeling annoyed at the thought of her with other men?

  Peter’s laughter faded. “But truly, Matthew, returning from the dead seems to have agreed with you.”

  Matthew studied his drink for a moment. “Much seems different when one returns from the other side of the world. I have seen”—and done, he thought—“terrible things, and it has enabled me to put my own life in perspective. I feel…more at peace with myself. I’ve chosen to stop fighting my own temperament, to accept things I once rebelled against.”

  Reggie and Peter were staring at him. Emily studied him thoughtfully, and he wondered if he’d revealed too much to her.

  Reggie cleared his throat. “I had a very different response to being on the other side of the world. It made me want to do nothing more for a time than to enjoy good Madingley brandy, ride fine Madingley horses with no destination in mind, and even read a book in the Madingley library, with my feet upon expensive leather furniture.”

  They all laughed.

  “What a rebel,” Matthew said dryly. But he was glad Reggie had distracted their attention from him.

  “I did have a pint at the inn,” Reggie added. “I listened to wild stories of your death-defying return to England.”

  “And what were those?” Peter asked, still laughing.

  “Find me another drink and I’ll tell you.”

  The two men went off together, leaving Matthew alone with Emily. She was still watching him too closely, but her eyes suddenly sharpened as she glanced past his shoulder.

  “Oh dear,” she murmured, her expression full of regret.


  Matthew turned to look. “Well, if it isn’t Albert Evans,” he drawled, relieved to see an old friend.

  Albert was short and husky, with a mane of black hair and open, honest features. To Matthew’s surprise, Albert hugged him fiercely. After glancing at Emily, Albert turned his determined face toward Matthew, who felt his enthusiasm suddenly wane.

  “Damn, but how did this miracle happen?” Albert demanded, smiling with delight.

  Matthew repeated his story, knowing this wouldn’t be the last time. Albert nodded to Emily reluctantly, respectfully, his face even redder, and Matthew at last accepted the truth. Albert was another would-be suitor. Was every man after Emily?

  For several minutes the two men discussed the health of Albert’s family and what he’d been doing in London. Matthew would have been content to let the subject of Emily go. After all, what more needed to be said?

  But at last there was a momentary silence in their friendly conversation, and Albert glanced at Emily.

  “Matthew,” he said, lowering his voice, “perhaps we can speak privately?”

  “I already know what you’re going to say,” Matthew said, sliding his arm around Emily’s tense shoulders. “When my wife emerged from mourning, you showed an interest.”

  Albert sighed and looked away. “I feel…strange about it, old chap.”

  “Oh, please don’t, Mr. Evans,” Emily said softly, her face suffused with a blush.

  Matthew smiled. “You aren’t the only man who feels he needs to apologize to me.”

  Albert sighed heavily. “I saw you with Derby. So you’ve had this same conversation?”

  “More or less,” Matthew said with a shrug. He gave Emily a gentle shake. “Neither of you should feel guilty. Emily is a rare flower, and I’m a lucky man.”

  She stared up at him solemnly, and Matthew wondered what frantic thoughts were going on behind those clear blue eyes.

  Making a decision, he continued, “Emily and I have been apart almost a year. I admit it felt strange to know that she’d decided to see other men—”

  Matthew was surprised that Emily could become stiffer, but she did.

  “That’s not how it was,” Albert quickly said, bobbing his head respectfully toward Emily. “I will speak frankly, Matthew, so that you understand the truth. I met Mrs. Leland once or twice while she was in mourning. She was polite but distant. It was only after she came to London this past summer, and your mother encouraged us all to include her as much as possible, that the rest of the male population began to see the treasure you’d won yourself.”

  Emily’s smile was faint and strained.

  “My mother wants a marriage for everyone,” Matthew said, giving a crooked grin.

  “All mothers do. But Mrs. Leland didn’t seem to wish the same thing. I don’t know a man who won more than a dance with her at a ball—and rarely two.”

  “Surely Peter Derby was a bit more insistent?” Matthew said lightly.

  “Well, yes,” Albert admitted. “But your wife—she was polite, but uninterested in any of us.”

  “Please, Mr. Evans,” Emily murmured. “You do not need to defend me so. My husband is a most understanding man.”

  Albert harrumphed and rocked on his heels, looking uncomfortable. “Matthew, I just wouldn’t have felt right until I’d explained everything to you.”

  “And you have,” Matthew said. “Any duty you felt is fulfilled.”

  After promising to attend a dinner soon, Albert moved on, barely able to look Emily in the eyes. Matthew had no problem watching her.

  She raised her chin and spoke softly. “Surely you have more questions for me than you asked Mr. Evans.”

  “I have met two of your suitors in one day,” he said.

  “And you’ll probably meet other men who considered me fair game. Your mother wanted my happiness. She did not want me mourning only a brief memory in my old age. She couldn’t understand that…” Her voice fell away.

  “Understand what?” he asked gently.

  Emily didn’t explain, and Matthew wondered what she’d meant to say.

  Without giving her a chance to protest, he took her hand and led her along the wall, toward the French doors that opened onto a terrace. He knew people gaped as they left the drawing room, but no one followed them out into the cool autumn evening. The moon hung low in the sky, providing faint light. He needed no light for guidance. He was giving in to his irrational impulse to prove something to Emily, even though he didn’t know what it was.

  “Matthew?”

  Ignoring her query, he pulled her away from the light of the doors and along the wall of the terrace, where he crowded her until her back was against the smooth stone.

  “Emily.” Her name was a rumble deep in his throat. “You don’t have to explain anymore. I understand everything you did while I was gone. What I don’t understand is why I feel so…disturbed by it all. The thought of you with someone else makes me feel positively primitive with jealousy. I want to put my hands on you in public, remind them all of my claim.”

  She was watching him with wide eyes, but there was excitement, too, and he shared it. With her shoulders back against the wall, her breasts were thrust forward, and he looked at his leisure, where the faint moonlight dipped into the hollow between them.

  He rested his hand on her shoulder, his thumb just touching the upper slope of her breast. “Were we one of those couples who cannot stop looking at each other, who cannot keep their hands off each other during any moment of privacy? Teach me the truth, Emily.”

  Without waiting for an answer, he kissed her, this time with all the passion he wanted to share with her. He clasped her head with his hands, used his whole body, his chest to her breasts, his hips to hers, his thighs keeping her immobile. Her mouth he plundered, tasting deeply, wanting as much of her as he could take. She put her arms about his waist, hands sliding up his back, her tongue meeting his with eager passion.

  His mind went blank; they were alone in the world, cool wind tugging at their hair and clothing. But between them rose a fire, hot with desire, little caring that it consumed their souls.

  Matthew lifted his head, breathing hard.

  “Did I make you forget those other men?” he asked with playful arrogance, letting his thumb slide down her cheek, then rub back and forth over her moist lower lip.

  “I never forgot you,” she whispered. “And I never kissed anyone while you were gone. I never wanted to.”

  He kissed her once again, then stepped back. “My desire for you makes me forget all my promises to help my sister.”

  She smiled. “It is hardly too late. Shall we return?”

  He nodded, but didn’t return her smile as he said, “Yes, but I’ll have great difficulty in concentrating on anything but you, Emily.”

  She ducked her head away and led him back inside.

  Emily found herself seated beside Matthew through dinner, and she took advantage of it, brushing his elbow with hers, letting their hands “accidentally” touch, leaning in to speak softly to him. She had worried that finding out about two former suitors would anger him, but miraculously, his desire only seemed to be inflamed by the challenge.

  She might be winning him, she thought, trying not to be too excited and relieved.

  As she ate her turkey stuffed with chestnuts, she noticed Matthew’s sisters watching them. Sensible Susanna looked at refined Rebecca—and both smothered laughter. Emily tried to frown at them but couldn’t quite make it believable.

  “And what is wrong with my sisters?” Matthew asked, amusement in his voice.

  “A fine example you set,” she murmured. “They certainly saw the way you dragged me outside. Perhaps they thought it so romantic that they’ll permit their suitors to do the same.”

  “They understand the difference between courtship and marriage,” he said dryly. He arched a brow. “I assume I was a proper suitor?”

  “Oh, very. My family had just died, after all. You were very respectful. Yet
you made certain I knew the seriousness of your intentions.”

  Matthew nodded. “It is time for Susanna to know such a thing.”

  “You can’t force it,” Emily warned him. “Susanna is talking to men. She’s sitting beside your friend Mr. Evans, after all. Perhaps they’ll dance together.”

  “There will be dancing?” Matthew asked, giving a faint frown.

  “I know you didn’t dance much.”

  “That is no longer the problem.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t remember how.”

  “Oh, dear. Then perhaps you should avoid it today. I promise to work with you before your mother’s ball.”

  He gave her a cocky grin. “Then I have something to look forward to.”

  After dinner, the guests returned to the drawing room to find all the rugs rolled up and the furniture moved against the walls. A quartet of musicians had begun to play from a corner of the room.

  Emily followed Matthew as he retrieved Susanna, who’d already lined up with the chaperones and spinsters against one wall. Susanna followed them willingly, with only a touch of resignation.

  When the three were far enough away from the musicians to speak, Matthew put his hands on his hips and loomed over his sister. “And what do you think you’re doing burying your loveliness against a wall?”

  “That is very sweet of you, Matthew, but—”

  “I do not remember such shyness from you, Susanna. Tell me what happened.”

  Flustered, she spread both hands. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Matthew softened his voice. “Do you think you cannot trust me?”

  “I—” She gave Emily a look that appealed for help. “It isn’t that,” she said. “It’s all so silly, really. You’ll think me a fool. It’s just…easier to remain unnoticed, to do what I want with my life.”