How long did it take to ride in the park? An hour — two at most?
“Yes. By the time I’m washed and dressed, Mrs Chandler should be home.” When she found him sitting alone, she was bound to feel an ounce of guilt. Consequently, she would be inclined to give him the key to the connecting door.
“If you have no preference regarding your attire, may I suggest the yellow waistcoat with the midnight-blue coat, sir?”
Damn. He’d not suffer the embarrassment of informing his valet he’d been locked out of the dressing room. Besides, for Priscilla to feel any remorse did he not need to appear somewhat solemn? Yellow simply wouldn’t do. But then it was not pity he wanted her to feel in her breast.
“On second thoughts, just hand me my silk robe. I shall eat in here. When Mrs Chandler returns, send her up at once.”
Lawson inclined his head and retrieved the burgundy dressing gown from the chair. “Shall I leave it on the bed, sir, or do you require assistance?”
“Leave it on the bed.” Matthew had no problem with nudity, but would rather not flaunt his engorged manhood. He would have to conjure a repulsive image in order to deal with the problem. To be in a state of arousal would not serve him well when dealing with Priscilla.
The small hand on the mantel clock had moved past eleven when he heard the light rap at his bedchamber door. Matthew was sitting on top of the coverlet, his robe gaping at the chest but covering his modesty, his breakfast laid out on a tray in front of him. The toast in the rack was as cold and hard as stone. The tea in the pot had stewed and resembled runny gravy.
“Come in.” He buttered a slab of toast with feigned enthusiasm.
The door eased away from the jamb. Priscilla peered inside. “Hopkins said you wished to see me.”
“Come in and close the door.” It took a tremendous effort not to gag as he bit into the bread and it crumbled in his mouth. “Lawson informed me you were out riding in the park.”
She slipped inside and closed the door. “I rode along the Ladies’ Mile, observed the fallow deer in the Pound.” A chuckle escaped from her lips. “It’s so fresh out this morning. I could have stayed in the park for hours, but Pike is not easy company.”
A ruby glow coloured her cheeks. Her blue eyes sparkled with a vitality that stole his breath.
“Pike can be rather solemn and not very personable. But he’s loyal and takes his responsibilities seriously. Next time, I might join you. I can’t remember the last time I rode in the morning.”
What was he thinking? He detested riding.
She stepped further into the room. “There is nothing like an early morning ride to get the blood pumping.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“It really sets you up for the day.”
“That has been my experience.” He noted the outdated style of her faded blue riding habit. A sudden desire to lavish her with gifts took hold. “I’m told it’s been a while since you rode. Perhaps you should order a new habit. Something a little brighter. Something to reflect your sunny disposition.”
A smile lit up her face but quickly faded. “Under the circumstances, it would be unwise to be frivolous.” She brushed the sleeves of her coat. “This will be fine for now.”
Matthew considered the woman before him. Most ladies of his acquaintance would not refuse the offer of new clothes. They had no care where the money came from to fund their extravagant tastes. Nothing was more important than being seen in fashionable garments. His wife was not so shallow. His wife saw their marriage as a partnership. Once he’d repaid the vowel and implemented his plan to beat the card-sharps, he would give her everything she needed and more.
“You do not desire a new riding habit?” He was keen to understand her reasoning.
She shrugged. “I would like to believe I am not so vain as to put financial pressure on my family merely to satisfy a whim.”
The word family prickled like pins digging into his shoulders. In his experience, family were not to be trusted.
“Indeed.” He pushed the tray away and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “May I ask you a question?”
Her gaze journeyed southward over his robe, lingered on his bare legs. Pushing two fingers down between the ruffled blouse and her throat, she sucked in a breath.
Matthew suppressed a grin though he felt like a disgruntled mistress using every tactic possible to secure a lover’s attention.
“You’re my husband. You may ask me anything you like.”
“And you’ll answer honestly?”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Of course. Does truthfulness not form the basis of our marriage?”