Never Marry a Stranger (14 page)

He glanced at Emily, who watched him with interest.

“I haven’t decided,” he answered truthfully.

He knew that his mother loved him, and she obviously wanted his homecoming reunion with the rest of the family to be as normal as possible. To make certain of it, she led them back to the draw
ing room and went on in detail for several hours, explaining every family in the shire and their relationships. Matthew tried to protest that more and more of his memories were returning, but she didn’t believe him.

And during it all, Emily fell asleep at his side, head resting at an awkward angle against her shoulder. When their conversation hit a momentary lull, they all seemed to notice her at once.

Lady Rosa sighed and whispered, “I do believe we might have gotten carried away.”

Matthew and the professor exchanged a glance.

“It is time for us to retire,” Matthew said quietly, getting to his feet.

His mother wrung her hands. “Have I told you about the family dinner party tomorrow night?”

“You have,” he said, striving for solemnity, “and I appreciate all the trouble you’re going to.”

She looked shocked. “Trouble? You think that the return of my son from the dead would cause me trouble?”

He grinned and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Of course not. I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you—and that I missed you.”

Mollified, she playfully pushed him away. He gathered Emily into his arms, half expecting her to awaken, but she only snuggled against him, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. When he turned around, his parents watched him holding
Emily with twin expressions of hope that made him uneasy.

Wishing them good-night, he strode away.

Emily was light and pliable in his arms. He traversed corridors and staircases, moving in and out of faint circles of lamplight stationed at intervals. More than one servant passed him silently, some wearing the same hopeful expression as his parents.

Thankfully, their bedroom door was ajar, and he shouldered it open. The blankets and counterpane had already been turned back, and he was able to gently lower her to the cool sheets. She still didn’t awaken. He closed the door, then began to loosen his cravat as he returned to the bed to stare down at her. After tossing the cravat on a nearby chair, he removed his coat and waistcoat.

With a heavy sigh, Emily rolled onto her side, away from him, her cheek pillowed on her folded hands. Matthew waited, but her breathing continued slowly, evenly.

He took the opportunity presented to him and began to unhook the back of her gown.

A
s Matthew unhooked Emily’s gown, he felt certain that she would awaken any moment. She would never give up an opportunity to have him in bed, to seal this marriage she wanted so desperately. He found himself breathing unevenly, wanting to fulfill every promise of pleasure they’d been creating these last few days, even as another part of him knew it might be a mistake.

Every hook he tugged on sent an answering tug deep inside him. When he found her corset as her gown separated, he untied the laces, letting his fingers brush her back through her chemise. As he loosened the corset he thought she would surely notice that she could breathe easier. Yet her breathing had the same, even cadence.

He rolled her onto her back, and her head fell to the side, facing away from him. He removed her shoes, then drew her gown forward off her shoulders, pulling her arms out of the sleeves. As they fell back like the limbs of a stuffed doll, he knew she
was not going to awaken. She was losing her chance at the perfect seduction, he thought, smiling, and knew she would regret it greatly in the morning.

Gently, he slid her dress down beneath her hips, drawing it past her legs. His smile faded as his mouth dried. He was making this even more difficult on himself, but he couldn’t stop. He was able to pull the corset off her as well, although it took some tugging.

Her face scrunched up and she made a sound. Matthew froze, his hope—and other things—surging. But she only sighed and seemed to slip into a deeper slumber.

It was his turn to sigh. She was lying before him in her chemise, cut low in the bodice to allow for a more revealing evening gown. For a wicked moment he debated removing that as well. But it would be so much more enjoyable if he could watch her expression as he did so.

Had he given up and decided to take her after all?

He slid his hands up her legs to remove her garters and roll her stockings down. At each brush of her flesh his fingertips seemed to burn.

He wanted her to open her eyes and reach for him, to bring him down to her. Why did he care if he was giving her what she wanted—when he wanted it, too? He was the one in control after all, the one who with just a word could end this whole masquerade.

But still she didn’t awaken, her face was so innocent in sleep. Leaning over her, he brushed her hair from her eyes, then at last pulled the covers up over her and left.

The next afternoon, with Emily at his side, Matthew stood at the front portico of Madingley Court and watched the caravan of carriages and wagons coming slowly down the long drive. All of his relatives were arriving at last. It had been two years since he’d seen the two men who’d been more than cousins to him—they were like brothers, with only a few years’ difference in ages between all of them. They’d been raised together and went to school together until separating before Cambridge. Daniel and Matthew went to university, but Christopher’s father had died, making him the duke at eighteen, and burdening him with too many responsibilities and duties for Cambridge.

It would still be several minutes before the carriages came to a stop. Matthew was curious when Emily spoke his name in a hesitant voice.

“Yes?” he said.

“I have debated if I should speak to you all day,” she said slowly, “and then I decided I had to say something.”

He arched a brow. “About what?”

“Lieutenant Lawton. Yesterday, I found him outside our bedroom.”

“Yes, he mentioned it when he finally found me.”

She smiled with chagrin. “Oh—never mind.”

“No, go on,” he said, glancing at the slowing carriages. “You obviously feel it’s important.”

“It’s simply that…I almost felt like he was…following me.”

Matthew kept his smile in place. Reggie’s concerns that she was suspicious of him were correct. How interesting that she would mention it. “Following you? Why would he do that?”

“I know I sound foolish, but I felt I had to mention it, especially after my maid, Maria, told me that Reggie was seen by the servants sneaking back into the house before dawn this morning.”

Arms folded over his chest, Matthew leaned against a column and grinned at her. “He is a man long away from England. Surely you can understand that he would want to search out amusements that an old married man like myself could not participate in.”

Her cheeks blushed red. “Of course you’re right. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“You’re my innocent wife,” he said softly, cupping her cheek with his palm. “Why would you feel you had to be suspicious of him?”

She looked away, breaking their contact as she spread her hands wide. “I don’t know.”

And then there was no more time to talk. The
first carriage, with two bewigged footmen perched on the rear and the ducal crest as an announcement on the door, came to a stop before the front door. Daniel Throckmorten emerged first, and then Christopher Cabot, the duke himself. Both men had inherited the dark Cabot looks and the impressive height. But Christopher, being half Spanish, had an olive cast to his skin that marked him as decidedly different.

Matthew started down the stone stairs, grinning, but they both turned to help out two ladies, obviously their wives. Just that morning, Emily had supplied him with all the information he needed. Christopher, his once very proper cousin, had done the scandalous thing and married a female journalist, a woman with brown hair and a lush figure. Of course, Daniel, the biggest rake of the three of them, was not to be outdone where scandal was concerned. He’d won the hand of his petite wife, Grace, in a card game with her mother.

Emily descended the stairs at Matthew’s side. He saw her happy wave, and the answering waves of his cousins’ wives. Though the two women hugged Emily, they stared at him with curiosity and amazement. Even Daniel’s and Christopher’s expressions were solemn.

“Have I changed so much?” Matthew asked, smiling.

He reached out a hand to the duke, and to his
surprise, Christopher hugged him hard, then passed him to Daniel, who did the same.

Matthew stepped back and grinned, feeling almost too choked up to speak.

“It is good to see you,” Christopher said softly.

Daniel added, “Always had to make an entrance, didn’t you?”

Before Matthew could respond except with a laugh, a footman opened the door to the next carriage. His aunt Isabella, the dowager duchess of Madingley, descended first, still regal, with only a touch of silver in her black hair. Behind her came his second aunt, Lady Flora, Daniel’s mother, dressed in dark blue rather than black. Matthew remembered her wearing the color of mourning since her husband’s death, when he was a little boy. He was glad her mood had at last improved. Both women were widows. Not for the first time, he realized how lucky he was that his father was still alive and still had the ability to find a second chance at happiness in marriage.

“Matthew!”

The shriek came from his youngest cousin, Elizabeth, Christopher’s sister, who jumped from the carriage without waiting for assistance. She’d still been in the schoolroom when he left, but had blossomed into a lovely young woman. She flung herself at him, and he swung her around.

“Help, she’s choking me!” he called, gasping.

She pounded his shoulders as he let her down. “I am allowed my happiness, after all the mourning you put us through.”

He sobered and saw his aunts dabbing at their eyes, and that even spirited Elizabeth blinked hard against tears. Though there had been years of squabbling with so many families living in the same household, it wasn’t until he was away from England that he’d realized how rare it was that his family all loved each other.

He’d unknowingly put them all through hell. “I…I can only say how sorry I am that I did not realize the terrible news you’d been told.”

Christopher rolled his eyes. “We would go through it all again as long as we were guaranteed the same outcome. You’re home, restored to your family—and to your wife.”

Everyone laughed and applauded. Emily blushed, but didn’t meet Matthew’s eyes. He thought Daniel looked between them with too much curiosity, but there would be time to answer that later. More carriages filled with servants and wagons piled with trunks were waiting to rumble past them, heading both to the servants’ entrance and the luggage entrance.

Matthew gestured up the portico stairs, where the butler and many downstairs servants were already lined up to greet the duke. “Let’s go inside, shall we? You all need to rest and prepare yourselves
for dinner.” He looked at Christopher. “If His Grace doesn’t mind me speaking for him.”

Daniel laughed. “His Grace is becoming far too used to having others speak for him.” He lightly tapped Abigail, the duchess, on the arm. She elbowed him back.

After dinner, as the ladies were leaving the gentlemen, Emily paused in the doorway and watched Matthew for a moment. His face was alive with animation as he spoke with his cousins. She knew they’d practically been raised as brothers, and it was obvious they had all missed each other during the two years he was in India.

Right now he was distracted from her concerns about Lieutenant Lawton. She had planted a seed, and hoped it would be enough to make Matthew see his friend in a different light, but she was uncertain that she’d made the right decision. Perhaps he would become so curious about what the lieutenant was doing all day—and night—that he would confront his friend. If Lieutenant Lawton knew the truth about her, would he reveal it? He hadn’t so far, and to be fair, she didn’t even know if he was her enemy or not. But something had to change within this household, allowing her to discover Stanwood’s accomplice, even if it placed her at greater risk.

Mr. Derby was polite, but distant, as far as she was concerned. He was still affronted by the sug
gestion she’d made to him about Susanna, and she had not forgotten his hints that she wasn’t worthy of Matthew.

Feeling frustrated and impatient, she turned to leave the men alone in the dining room and found Grace Throckmorten and Abigail Madingley watching her thoughtfully. They were alone in the hall, as if they’d been waiting for her.

Emily smiled. The women each took her arm and led her into a cozy parlor. They were not the closest of friends—she couldn’t afford to allow herself friends—but had socialized often with her when she’d spent the past Season in London. She liked them, and knew that they were very intelligent women. Abigail might be the trained journalist, but they were both regarding her thoughtfully and with too much interest.

“Emily, we were so stunned at the news!” Grace said. “I have never seen my husband so emotional.”

Abigail glanced at Grace in surprise, then turned back to Emily. “And Chris was the same. We were glad for our husbands, of course, but neither of us could stop thinking about you!”

Emily smiled. “Thank you. We have all truly been blessed.”

“All?” Abigail said deliberately. “Of course Matthew’s sisters and parents are thrilled, but…what about you?”

“I feel the same,” she said simply, serenely.

“Yet, after not seeing one’s husband for a year,” Grace said quietly, “was it almost like beginning anew?”

“It has been more…challenging than I expected. Fighting for England has changed him in some ways.”

“We have only heard stories about him, of course,” Abigail said, “but he seems like a very nice man. Much more open and carefree than I’d assumed from the stories I heard. Of course, the fact that our husbands love him like a brother says much about him.”

“He is more than a nice man,” Emily said in a low, fervent voice. “He is a
good
man, who’s seen too much unhappiness. It has been difficult for him, but we are doing fine.”

Abigail exchanged a look with Grace, as if they would say more, but in the end she only said, “Then we are happy for you. If you don’t mind a little advice, be patient with him. Our husbands come from stubborn stock.”

Emily nodded. “That, I already know.”

When everyone gathered in the drawing room after dinner, Matthew enjoyed the lively hum of conversation and laughter. He stood a moment in the doorway, looking at his family, feeling full of happiness and satisfaction. Daniel, Christopher, and
their wives were talking to Emily. Earlier in the day he’d decided to tell his cousins everything, but now, seeing how friendly their wives were with Emily, he changed his mind. She’d been a part of his family while he was gone. How could he tell his cousins the truth, when they would mostly likely confide in their wives?

While the ladies decided to begin a lively game of charades, Christopher, Daniel, and Matthew shared a knowing glance and tactfully retired to the other end of the drawing room to play cards. Matthew invited Professor Leland, Peter, and Reggie to join them.

To Matthew’s surprise, Emily trailed along behind, and it didn’t take long to see why. She hovered near his shoulder as the cards were dealt, and before he could even make a move, she whispered the correct play in his ear.

He realized her need to aid his memory, and smiled up at her. “Join the ladies, Emily. I am fine.”

Smiling, she touched his shoulder softly and then walked away.

When Matthew turned his attention back to the game, Daniel and Christopher were watching him closely.

Clearing his throat, the professor said a little too loudly, “She always likes to help, our Emily.”

Matthew could have groaned. His father trying to cover up Emily’s actions was only making it worse. Then someone childishly kicked him under the table, and he frowned at his two cousins, who wore matching innocent expressions.

For a while they played with little focus, mostly discussing Matthew’s time in India, his injuries, and how the miscommunication about his death had happened.

During the evening, by ones or twos, the ladies gradually retired, and the men began to drink a bit more. The professor at last said good-night, helping Reggie escort an inebriated Peter to the bachelor wing.

Only Daniel and Christopher remained with Matthew—and they were both pointedly staring at him.

“Explain,” Christopher said abruptly. Though his expression was amused, there was an underlying order in those words. The master of the house—the duke—had spoken.