Patience (36 page)

Patience curled her fingers around him and her clitoris throbbed as he continued to thrust gently against her hand.

His expression remained relaxed. “What say you? What says my vicar’s daughter?”

Patience tried to concentrate. “I’m thinking.”

“You’re beautiful when you’re thinking. In fact, you’re beautiful all the time.”

Patience grinned and shook her head. “And you’re distracting me.”

“Sorry.” Matthew released her and, leaning his chin in his hand, waited.

“All right.” Patience gathered her thoughts as she squared her shoulders and drew a deep breath. “I can’t say I disagree with the points you’ve made. However, it’s hardly fair to hold women to God’s will whilst men walk around ignoring His will entirely. If woman is meant obey her husband, then it must be acknowledged that man is meant to protect and provide for his wife. And if he is to wield authority, and expect obedience to that authority, then he must bear the responsibility that comes with it. He must be trustworthy, and self-disciplined. He must use good judgment and always have the best interests of his wife in mind. And if his authority is never to be questioned, then he must be a man whose goodness and strength of character are unquestionable.”

Patience nodded decisively as she warmed to her subject. “Yes, like any king, lord, or leader of men, a man who would be a husband must be held to a very high standard. He must do the work for which he is suited—work that will provide a life of safety and security. What’s more, he must cherish his wife and strive to make her happy, just as she so strives for him. He must care for her and show her affection. And, if God wills it, he should give her children, for children are our earthly immortality.”

Patience frowned. “Which brings me to the point that if the staff of a man’s dominance rests between his legs, then he’d best be sure that it is pressed only to his wife, for
she
, and only she, is the one who is bound to it through her holy vows. She, and only she, is the one who kneels before it in submission. And she, and only she, is the one who is entitled to its pleasure.”

Sitting back, Patience expelled the last of her breath in a short burst and waited for Matthew’s rebuttal.

A slow smile lit his face, and it suddenly seemed that his dark dove’s eyes were deeper and gentler than ever. “I agree completely.”

Patience felt her brows shoot up. “You do?”

“Of course.” Matthew stood up and crossed to the wide entrance of the kitchen. He turned and leaned against the doorframe. “There’s only one thing you left out.”

“There is?” Patience quickly reviewed her points in her mind. “What?”

“Love. You failed to mention love.”

Patience felt as if everything stilled. “Did I?”

“Yes.”

“Well, there must be love—mustn’t there?”

“Yes.” His dark gaze touched her like an embrace. “There must be love.”

Patience suddenly felt flushed, her chest too full for breath. What was happening?

Matthew’s expression shifted. He raised his brows. “For example, if a man were to say to his wife”—he looked at her expectantly—“
come
.”

Patience stood and crossed to him, feeling her sore bottom the whole way.

Matthew nodded approvingly. “Then she will do so, without question, because she knows that whatever the reason for his bidding, even if it be to punish her, it comes out of his love for her.”

Patience felt wet between her legs. She shivered and her nipples tightened.

“Of course,” Matthew murmured, “much of the time she will find that answering his summons leads to something quite pleasant.” He reached around the doorframe and produced her dressing gown.

Patience raised her brows in surprise as he held it open for her.

“I packed a full set of your undergarments and a fresh gown as well.”

Patience smiled as she turned and slipped her arms into the sleeves of her gown. “You thought of everything, didn’t you?”

“That’s what I do, Patience.” He settled the gown over her shoulders. “I think of everything you need.”

She sighed as he pressed a kiss against the back of her neck, and her legs trembled a little as she turned to face him.

His eyes searched hers. “I hope you don’t mind that I went into your wardrobe.”

Did she? Three days ago, she might have. But nothing was as it had been three days ago. She shook her head. “No, I don’t mind at all.”

“Good,” he murmured as he began closing the tiny buttons of her dressing gown. She watched his long, deft fingers as they quickly accomplished the task. His attentions were growing on her. She liked when he dressed her—and undressed her.

She looked up at his face. His eyes were lowered, but his hair had fallen forward on his temples and his beautiful mouth was soft and relaxed. With her eye, she traced the curve of his brow to his cheekbone, and then the plane of his cheek to the sweep of his strong jaw. Lord, he was so intensely handsome—and so wise and tender.

As he lifted the collar of her dressing gown more snugly around her neck, Matthew raised his dark eyes to hers. “I like when you look at me. It makes me feel warm.”

Patience’s stomach fluttered. “Isn’t that funny? When I look at you, I feel warm, too.”

He smiled. “Then it serves both of us, and you should do it more.”

Patience smiled, and, somewhere in the house, a clock chimed.

“Four o’clock,” Matthew said softly. “We ought to go, but the storm is still raging.” He stroked her cheek with his finger. “I don’t think it’s safe.”

Patience shook her head. “Neither do I.” Leaving was the last thing she wanted to do. She sighed. “But we’ll surely be missed if we don’t return.”

“Mark knows where we are. If we’re asked after, I’m sure he’ll think of something to say.”

“I’m glad he knows where we are.” That meant Passion would know, too. “But I don’t like him having to lie for us.”

Matthew smiled. “He won’t lie. He’ll say something ambiguous.” He traced his finger along her lower lip. “I have an idea. Why don’t we stay the night and return early—before anyone rises?”

Could they? Patience smiled, and happiness coursed through her. She couldn’t resist the idea. She couldn’t resist
him
. “I think that’s an excellent plan.”

Matthew’s smile deepened. “Good, then.”

There they were, smiling again.

Patience let her gaze flicker down the wide corridor that led to the front of the manse. Earlier, she had paused to admire the landscapes and hunt scenes that decorated the paneled walls. She looked back at Matthew. “I like this house.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, it feels strong and sound. Yet it’s also warm and comfortable.”

He nodded as he ran his hand gently over the worn wood molding of the doorframe. “I like it, too.”

“I’m not surprised, it suits you.”

“Do you think so?” He cocked his brow at her. “It’s old, drafty, and gerrymandered.”

“That’s what gives it character.”

“It’s too secluded and hidden away.”

“Then only those worthy of it will find it.”

He began to smile. “It’s worn and ragged in places.”

“Aren’t we all?”

Matthew laughed, and Patience smiled at the happy sound for his happiness fed her own.

Taking her hand, he led her slowly down the corridor. “It’s called Gwyn Hall, and it was built in 1530 by the Earl of Mar-sham for his young bride. They were married in the tiny chapel behind the garden.”

“How romantic.”

Matthew smiled at her. “Yes, it is.” Drawing her arm through his, he led her into the long dining room. “The house came into Hawkmore hands after the Restoration. Charles II granted the house and its land, which bordered the western edge of the Hawkmore estate, to the fourth Earl of Langley as a gift.”

Patience admired the beautiful linen- fold paneling of the room.

“The fourth earl ignored the place,” Matthew continued, “but the fifth earl used it as a hunting lodge. It was he who had over a hundred trees planted around the house. He thought it looked more rustic that way. The sixth earl kept the place up but rarely used it, and my fa—” Matthew cut himself off. “George Hawkmore gave the house its modern improvements.”

Patience felt him stiffen. She smiled and pulled his arm close. “Well, thank goodness for George Hawkmore, because I particularly enjoyed that deep copper tub. And the kitchen is a wonder.”

Matthew looked down at her, and she watched the tension melt from his face.

“As I was looking for the kitchen,” she continued, “I noticed that there’s a study off the library with a number of model trains on the shelves. Are those your trains?”

“They are. Before I bought Angel’s Manor I used to spend quite a lot of time here. I believe my practice instrument is there as well. Would you like to play?”

“No, thank you.” She felt absolutely
no
inclination to play. “But I’d like to see the trains. Will you show me?”

He clasped her hand and pulled her with him.

The spacious room was chilly as no fire burned in the hearth. And even though a large bay window and two tall side windows let light in through diamond-shaped mullions, the fury of the storm and the hour made that light dim and watery. As Matthew lit some lamps, Patience crossed to the shelves behind the desk. Interspersed throughout the books were models of engines, carriages, and depots. There were so many, and they all sported the gold initials of GWR—Grand West Railway wasn’t a company, it was an empire.

Patience remembered the gossip of Lady Humphreys and her companions. They had said people didn’t want to do business with Matthew anymore—that he would find himself in the poorhouse. She shook her head as she scanned the many models. Ridiculous! GWR was huge—even the Swittley sisters knew of Matthew’s wealth. He’d taken ten thousand pounds to the gaming table for heaven’s sake. And now he owned a coal mine as well!

Besides—she picked up the heavy model of a shiny black engine—what possible effect could a scandal over illegitimacy have on a rail company the size and stature of GWR? Especially when that illegitimacy had no real or practical consequence upon anything.

Matthew joined her. “That’s the model for our first engine.”

“It looks different from the engine of the train that brought me from Lincolnshire,” Patience said, returning it carefully to the shelf.

“Yes.” Matthew pointed out another black engine that was far bigger and heavier looking. “This is the beast that brought you here. It’s called the Black Dragon—so named for its strength and speed.” He raised his brows. “And its insatiable appetite for coal.”

“Well, fortunately you own a coal mine. By the way, I read the article in the paper this morning. It’s credits you with ‘changing the face of two monumental industries.’ ” She smiled. “That’s very exciting, Matthew. Congratulations on your success.”

“Thank you.” Matthew’s dark eyes studied her for a moment. “You know, when I went to play cards, I had no idea that Danforth was carrying the deed to a coal mine in his pocket. I could have come away with nothing.”

“When I attended the ball, I had no idea you were carrying the deed to my desires in
your
pocket. God often sends blessings when we least expect them, Matthew.”

Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her deeply and thoroughly. Patience moaned and pressed more tightly against him as his hands squeezed her sore bottom.

Breaking the kiss, he spoke against her lips. “Are you sure you want to continue discussing trains?” He held her to him as he rubbed slowly against her. “Because I do believe I have something in my pocket for you right now.” He smiled. “Something I think you should see.”

Patience laughed as she pulled back. “I believe that I’m already acquainted with what’s in your pocket, sir.”

“Ah, but not nearly well enough, miss.”

Patience shook her head with a smile. “Are you going to tell me anything more about your business or not?”

Matthew sighed. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, what about this new coal mine? You know, despite the laws, conditions in mines and mining villages are typically horrible. Do you have plans to visit?”

Matthew regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. “You really are a vicar’s daughter, aren’t you?”

Patience grinned and felt herself blushing again. “Well, it may not always seem like it, but yes.”

His arms came around her. “I’m aware conditions for miners are typically poor.” He pressed kisses to her brow and temple. “And, yes, I plan to visit.”

She sighed and leaned into him. “What if it’s terrible?”

He nuzzled her ear. “Then I’ll fix it.”

Patience smiled into his neck and held him tighter. “You’re the best of men, Matthew.” She shivered. “The best of men.”

SONG OF SOLOMON 8:13

 

 

 

 

“So tell me, Matt, dearest. How are things progressing?” Aunt Matty sat in a chair beside Matthew on the large terrace overlooking the garden. The storm of the day before was gone and, as the autumn party and hunt was over, most of the guests had left that morning after breakfast. The house was peaceful. “Can we expect an announcement soon?”

Yes.
Matthew tipped his head toward her. “Well, you know Patience, Aunt Matty.”

Narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips, the woman drew a breath in loudly through her nose. “I most certainly do.”

Matthew held back his smile and shook his head. “There’s just no rushing her.”

“Oh!” The word came out as a frustrated exhalation. “That girl—I could just . . .” Aunt Matty clenched her hands as she looked across the rose garden at Patience.

She was walking the gravel paths with Passion, and the late morning sun made her hair look like fire.