Never Marry a Stranger (12 page)

Though she was glad she was well-prepared for her masquerade, she felt almost ugly saying such lies. Why did it seem harder to lie to him? She had to ignore that.

“Tell me about our bed,” he murmured.

She inhaled swiftly, giving him a teasing smile. “Surely even if you’ve forgotten me, you remember sleeping in the bungalow on your string-cot.”

He cocked his head as he studied her, eyes narrowed but still glinting with amusement. Was he trying to picture her in his bed each night? Or sorting through his suspicions? No, she had no proof of that.

“I imagine I will begin to remember such things soon,” he said softly, “for I plan to spend my nights in this bed from now on.”

Hope surged through her, then confusion. After calling a halt to their lovemaking that afternoon, now he wanted to sleep with her?

He added, “Perhaps you won’t have such terrible nightmares if you know you’re not alone.”

That didn’t seem like enough of a reason.

He grinned. “And this bed is much more comfortable.”

An outright exaggeration on his part.

His expression sobered. “But I don’t want you to think I’m teasing you, Emily. This afternoon…I lost myself in pleasuring you. Yet I’ve also lost every memory we shared, and it bothers me.”

“You aren’t teasing me, Matthew. You’re my husband, and your presence in this bed is your right.”

“My mind strains to put you in my memories of India. I imagine you sailing upriver with me—”

“But not very far,” she interrupted. “You were concerned about the danger I would be in. When
you were transferred up the country, that’s when you sent me home.”

She went to the desk and put out the lamp. She’d stood for a moment at the windows, where the draperies were still open, and looked out on the dark night. A cold autumn rain fell against the glass, rattling it. Then she lowered the draperies, checked the coal grate one last time, and came to the bed, where the last lit candle illuminated him in a gentle golden glow.

Matthew slid to the far side, still fully clothed, and watched as she removed her dressing gown, to lay it across the chest at the end of the bed. She wondered what he could see beneath the sheer fabric of her gown, hoped it enticed him. She slid beneath the covers, pulling them up to her waist.

She glanced at him. “Are you not coming to bed yet?”

He nodded to her and stood up, shrugging out of his shirt and trousers, leaving his drawers in place as he slid beneath the covers on his side of the bed.

She leaned to the side and blew out the candle, enveloping them in darkness. The pleasurable tension between them was a physical thing. She slid up against him.

“You’re warm,” she murmured.

To her disappointment, he started to talk.

“This is so strange,” he murmured, pillowing his head on his bent arm.

She snuggled against him, her hand on his chest. “Strange for you, but not for me.”

“There’s still some part of the proper gentleman in me, who feels that sharing a bed with you, even innocently, is like seducing a virgin.”

“I am not innocent.” She winced, thinking she spoke too firmly.

He only chuckled. “But you’re my wife. I would certainly assume you’re not innocent.”

A
fter breakfast the next morning Matthew sat alone on a bench in the conservatory, looking at the rain that drizzled down the glass windows.

“You can’t believe how difficult it was to find you.”

Matthew turned at the sound of Reggie’s voice and smiled. “I didn’t mean to hide.”

“I saw Emily drive off in the cabriolet,” Reggie said, sitting down on the bench.

Matthew heard the question in his voice. “I told her to take it because of the rain. She’s teaching again today.”

“Teaching,” Reggie mused. “You mentioned something about that last night, but we didn’t have a chance to talk.
Teaching
?”

Matthew laughed softly. “That’s what she’s been doing in the village. And here I followed her like an army spy, thinking she might be meeting someone in secret.”

“She still might be.”

“I haven’t been able to tell,” he said with a shrug.

“You’ll know more soon, when the report from the investigator arrives.”

Matthew only nodded.

“You seem…contemplative this morning.”

“Contemplative. What an interesting choice of words.” He gave a half smile. “I am thinking of Emily, of course.”

“Of course.” Reggie grinned. “You retire to a private suite each night with her. How could she not be on your mind?”

Matthew recognized the hint for what it was, but ignored it for the moment. “She has this uncanny ability to have an answer—a fabricated answer—to everything I say. There’s not even a hesitation.”

“She’s very intelligent.”

“I don’t know if she made herself that way with all the studying she does for her students. She even talks about India like someone who’s been there.”

Reggie laughed. “Maybe she has.”

“Unless her father took her there, I don’t think so.” He lowered his voice. “I keep wondering why she’s doing this. The more I know her, the more I see how my family loves her, all that makes sense is that she was desperate to survive. Her family died, and she had nothing.”

“Other women who have nothing—and look like her—marry quite easily. Or perhaps she knew
she could not prove herself a virgin on a wedding night.”

For an insane moment that made Matthew bristle. He was getting too close to Emily, entwined with her, sympathizing with her. She was swaying him, and he seemed helpless to stop it.

“I don’t know if she’s a virgin,” he said at last.

Reggie only arched a brow.

“She says she’s not innocent. Yet, without going into details—”

“Oh, please do.”

Matthew smiled. “I don’t think she’s ever known a woman’s pleasure before. And I know all that could mean is that no man took his time with her.” He paused, looking back outside at the wet park, feeling awkward but needing to talk. “I think I’m getting caught up in her, Reg. I thought pursuing and taking her to bed would be fun. After all, didn’t she ask for that by being here, by lying? But…”

“But?” Reggie finally urged.

“But that’s what she wants.”

“And that is a bad thing?” he asked with disbelief.

“I’d be falling right into her little plot. And what if she became pregnant? That would change everything.”

Reggie sighed. “Not an easy decision, I’ll admit. Not ready to confront her?”

“No. Not until I hear from the investigator. There’s some part of me—” He ran a hand through his hair, feeling like a fool. “God help me, there’s a part of me that almost wishes it were real.”

“Her passion? Or the marriage itself?”

With a groan, Matthew pushed to his feet. “Forget I said anything. I’m just confused.”

“I think you’re thinking too much.”

“I used to be very good at that, overthinking everything. I put it behind me in India—and then I came home to this.” He donned a perfunctory smile. “So what are your plans today? Are you coming to our picnic?”

“Of course! More eligible ladies. This visit is proving so entertaining.”

“What are you doing before the picnic?”

Reggie shrugged and glanced outside. “I don’t know. I might ride.”

“In this weather?”

“We’ve seen worse.”

As they left the conservatory together, Matthew had the distinct feeling that Reggie was holding something back. But everyone had secrets, so his friend was welcome to keep his.

Emily drove the two-wheeled cabriolet, keeping the carriage hood up over her as a defense against the fine mist of rain. She was uneasy all the way
into Comberton, and knew she couldn’t blame the gloom of the countryside.

Was Stanwood—or one of his minions—watching her even now?

In the taproom of the inn there were more strangers than usual, and she felt watched as she hurried through the entrance hall and into the private dining chamber. She tried to relax through the morning of teaching, but her nervousness never quite left her. When only one man threatened her, it had seemed easier to handle, to plan for. Now she didn’t know from which way a confrontation might come.

Yet—why didn’t Stanwood just get it over with?

As she drove out of the village, the itchy feeling between her shoulder blades returned, as if someone was staring at her. She urged the horse into a canter.

Behind her, she suddenly heard the sound of a horse galloping quickly, as if to overtake her. Calm, sensible Emily was replaced by a vulnerable woman whose mind raced with plans of escape that made no sense at all. She flicked the reins, urging the horse faster.

“Emily!”

She gasped at the sound of her name, then saw Matthew’s bobbing head as he peered beneath the carriage hood from the back of his racing horse.
She sagged against the bench in relief, pulling up on the reins.

“I must have missed you in town,” he said, slowing down to ride beside her cabriolet.

She gave him a bright smile. “I am sorry, too.”

Why had he been following her?

But he was smiling down at her with such happiness.

“The picnic,” she said suddenly. “Did the plans change?”

His smile broadened into a grin. “No. But I was worried you might think so because of the earlier weather and delay your return. But it stopped raining several hours ago, so the picnic will continue. I had the servants raise several pavilions, just in case.”

He was only being a good brother, she told herself.

The old castle seemed to stretch to the sky, replicated in the nearby pond. As a child, Matthew had spent hours exploring the ruins, pretending he was a knight in armor, fearless and reckless in battle. As an adult, he’d become a soldier. Had he made those childhood dreams come true?

Nearby were two colorful pavilions, with tables and chairs haphazardly spread about, the remains of their picnic feast still evident. The elders of the
party still lingered there, talking with his parents, and to Matthew’s surprise, he saw Reggie among them.

A half-dozen easels were spread across the lawn, and young ladies sat before them, contemplating how to capture the view. Susanna moved among them, talking, teaching, looking so at ease with her skills. Several young gentlemen milled among them all, and Matthew was pleased that she easily answered their questions, smiling.

Peter Derby said to Susanna, “Haven’t you drawn or painted this view a hundred times?”

She raised her nose primly. “Every day is different, every sky different, and even my talent is different year to year. And I never tire of such beauty and history.”

Matthew knew he didn’t have to worry about her. He spread a piece of canvas for protection against the damp earth, then a blanket over that. He threw several plump cushions on top, ready to relax against them.

“You aren’t going to paint?” Rebecca said as she approached.

“Of course not. My hands are far too clumsy.” He smiled, but it faded as he studied his sister.

To his surprise, she sat down on the blanket, legs folded demurely beneath her.

“Rebecca, are you feeling well?”

“I’m just tired,” she said, waving a hand. “We
stayed up late with Mama, discussing who was coming, how we should behave.”

“As if you don’t know that by now,” he said dryly.

She giggled, then plumped several cushions behind her and leaned back. She fell asleep too quickly. Her pale face reminded him of the terrible illnesses of her childhood.

He hadn’t realized that Emily was also watching Rebecca soberly. He rose, inclined his head toward the ruins, and held out his hand. She took it without hesitation, and they walked around the pond toward the old castle.

They were silent as they entered. He wondered if she knew it as well as he did. “I remember a room where the roof had collapsed…”

“This way,” she said, moving before him down a dank passage, before heading up a flight of stone steps and out beneath the sky.

The sun shone down on her, broken walls towering around them. But one was only a half wall, and they could see the entire countryside spread around them, the autumn trees shining with the many colors of Susanna’s palette.

He glanced at Emily, whose face was serene as she took in the view. Strands of pale blond hair had come loose and now fluttered gently about her face. God, she was truly beautiful. Long ago he would have courted her, he realized with a start. If he had
simply met her in Society, he would have wanted to know her better.

“How was Rebecca while I was gone?” he asked.

Emily looked at him then, her blue eyes full of understanding. She read him too well.

“Don’t let her taking a nap make you think the worst,” she said.

“But there are over a dozen people here. And she fell
asleep?”

“Susanna told me of Rebecca’s fragile health in childhood. But I’ve been here a year, and she’s only had a cold or two, nothing worse.”

“She almost died,” he said softly, looking away from her. “More than once my family feared the worst.”

“But she’s so strong, she was able to recover,” Emily said in a gentle voice.

Perhaps the whole family would recover when at last they knew the truth about Emily. But would they forgive her?

“Your concern for your sister is touching,” Emily continued. “There are not many men who would show such emotion.”

“I once thought it very easy to lock emotion away,” he found himself saying ruefully. “Sometimes I didn’t think I’d ever let myself feel truly alive again.”

“But you were doing a soldier’s duty. You had to protect yourself.”

He let her think he was talking about his service in the army. She was such a sympathetic listener, facing him now, her eyes blue mirrors of understanding and solemnity. To his surprise, she reached up and cupped his face. Her touch brought to life the latent desire for her that never went away.

“Don’t think of what you had to do,” she said quietly, her face close to his. “Circumstances can change us, but it doesn’t have to be forever.”

She was warm and sweet, and he leaned down to kiss her, enjoying the twin heat of her hands on his face. He pulled her into his arms so he could feel all of her, the softness of her breasts and belly against his body, the lushness of her hips as he ran his hands over them to hold her against him. Their kiss grew more and more urgent, deeper, greedy, and he let himself sink into the raw desire he felt for her.

“You know I’m going to make love to you soon,” he said against her lips, breathing hard.

“I know. But do you love me, Matthew?” she whispered between the gentle kisses she pressed to his lips.

Words froze in his throat; he couldn’t lie about this, not as easily as she could. But she hadn’t said she loved him.

At his continued silence, her gaze was sad but understanding, like that of a real wife. He found himself wishing he could take what was offered.

They walked back to his sisters arm and arm, and he saw the way Susanna and Rebecca exchanged a knowing, happy look upon seeing them together. Then Susanna took Emily away to discuss her plan to sketch the ruins from inside, her students and their male admirers following behind. He remained with Rebecca.

Smiling, she poured him a glass of cider, and he drank deeply. “You know,” she began thoughtfully, watching the others disappear inside the castle, “you left marks on her chin from your whiskers.”

He coughed into his glass, barely able to keep from spilling it.

Rebecca laughed merrily, bringing a pretty blush of pink to her cheeks. He was glad that his foolishness could make her look so.

“I know the signs of a man’s kisses,” she continued, eyes sparkling.

“I hope not from experience.”

“Of course not!” she said too quickly, then laughed. “What is it like to court a woman you’re already married to?”

He stretched out, leaning back on one elbow as he regarded his sister with amusement. “It is a challenge, but a pleasant one.”

“I am glad you think so. Many men would be angry and frustrated by everything they couldn’t remember.”

“Again, you know that from experience with the opposite sex?”

She lifted her chin haughtily. “I’m well read.” Then she laughed and regarded him thoughtfully. “For the first day or so, I thought you would be one of those other men.”

“My feeling angry at this insane situation would have disappointed you?”

She shook her head. “No, of course not. If important parts of
my
memory were just—gone, I think I would handle it far worse. I value every precious memory, perhaps because I don’t have as many as people who’ve lived ordinary lives.”

He studied her thoughtfully, thinking of the weeks of her childhood she’d spent ill and weak in bed, while life went on for everyone else. “You’ve grown too wise, little sister.”

She laughed merrily. “I’m not so wise. If I were, I would be able to settle on a husband.”

“Perhaps you have not met the right man,” he said, trying to be gentle.

“Is that how you felt when you met Emily?”

He couldn’t help it—he laughed.

Rebecca playfully pushed him. “You did marry her very quickly.”

“And you blame me, too, as Mother must, for not being at the wedding?”

She shook her head and raised both hands. “Oh, no, I thought it all quite romantic.”

Romantic,
he thought, lying back again, closing his eyes against the sun. He wouldn’t even need romance to take Emily to bed now.