Upon noting her arrival, Matthew jumped up. Penetrating emerald eyes scanned her plain muslin dress, a garment far removed from the vibrant gown she’d worn to the party. But there were many facets to her character. One dress did not define her.
“Were you expecting me to wear something more fetching?”
“Not at all.” The corner of his mouth curled up. “Where you're concerned, I would not make the mistake of presuming anything.”
The comment made her sound impulsive, daring, those qualities necessary to excite a man. If only it were true. “Someone once said that a person's outward appearance often reflects their inner thoughts. One's choice of clothes can convey mood and purpose.”
“Based on what I know of your character, I would agree.” His inquisitive gaze scrutinised her from head to toe. “Last night you were a woman intent on seduction. Every delicious element conveyed strength and determination. Tonight, you are the natural, unassuming woman whose life is entwined with mine.”
As always, his response was insightful.
“And which one do you prefer?”
“Both, for together they make for an interesting combination.”
A sudden fluttering filled her chest. “Unlike us, most married couples spend time together before deciding to wed. They learn of each other’s likes and dislikes, appreciate the similarities, respect the differences.” She was growing accustomed to speaking so candidly. “We’ve been swept up in a whirlwind and must find a way to muddle through.”
“I know it’s a cliche, but things will become easier over time. Equally, every minute should be enjoyed and savoured.”
How close would they be a year from now? Would they still be lovers? Would the excitement she felt today be something more profound tomorrow? Perhaps she’d made a mistake telling him she intended to harden her heart.
Priscilla sighed. “Worrying about the future can ruin the present. Sometimes I think too much, panic about how things should be. But I expect nothing from you other than your friendship and support.”
Guilt flared. It wasn’t the whole truth.
“I have the utmost regard for your opinion, even if it highlights my weaknesses.” He gestured to the decanters on the side table. “What would you like to drink? Instincts say pour you a sherry, but I suspect I am far from the mark.”
“Sherry is often too sweet, but a nip of brandy will suffice. Uncle Henry believes buying sherry for ladies is a waste of good money. He believes we should all stick to drinking tea. Yet having learnt of his penchant for gambling, I’m convinced it has something to do with not paying his bills.”
“No doubt you're right.” Matthew moved to the drinks table, pulled the crystal stopper from the decanter and poured two glasses of brandy. “Lord Callan’s solicitor is yet to contact me about payment of your dowry.”
“Well, I’d like to say that such things take time to arrange.” Doubt surfaced. “But I fear he may be stalling. Will it be a problem?”
Matthew returned, glasses in hand. Priscilla’s fingers brushed his as she took the drink. The frisson of awareness she’d felt on that first night in the garden returned.
“I hope not.” He raised his glass in salute. “To muddling through.”
“To muddling through.”
Their gazes locked over the rim of the glass as she sipped the brandy. The fiery liquid warmed her chest although she suspected the spirit had nothing to do with the heat building between her thighs.
“Was there a reason you wanted to meet in here before dinner?” The question had plagued her for an hour or more. The soothing effects of the brandy gave her the courage to ask.
“It seems we have reached a knot in the thread, so to speak, and must work to unravel it if we have any hope of moving forward. This morning you said you liked me and enjoyed my company. I feel the same way about you. Perhaps building a solid friendship is a good place to start.”
Priscilla's heart swelled. “People will chastise us for our modern way of thinking. Most married couples lead separate lives. Well, except for Tristan and Isabella.”
Two lines appeared between his brows. “Do you regret the decision you made in Holbrook’s garden? Tristan would have done the honourable thing. He would have forsaken his own happiness to save your reputation.”
She did not need to consider the question. “Tristan is like a brother. Any physical relationship would have been impossible. Ruination was the only option
had you not played the hero.”
His expression darkened. “I am far from a hero.”
“You have never lied to me, Matthew. That is one quality of a hero. I know why you married me — to save your friend, to save yourself and to help me too. It might not qualify as heroic, but it was not an entirely selfish decision.”
“There was another reason.” His heated gaze fell to her lips. “It is only right you know the truth about the man you married. Friends don’t lie, and so I ask you to forgive my bluntness. I married you because I wanted to bed you. I wanted to pleasure you until your innocent mouth begged to be fucked.”