She took a step towards him and held out her hands. The gesture caused him to suck in a breath, and he crossed the room and pulled her into an embrace.
“I’m sorry, Priscilla.” Large hands stroked her hair, patted her back and shoulders as though searching for a sign of a wound or injury. “What was I thinking? What husband would allow his wife to live in these conditions?”
Priscilla pulled back and touched his cheek. “Don’t blame yourself. A wife was not on your agenda when you planned these parties. These things cannot be helped. Next time—”
“There won’t be a next time.” He covered her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it five times or more. “One’s home should be a place of solace, a place of safety. To hell with the lot of them. Let them find their entertainment elsewhere. I’ll find some other way to supplement my income. Lord, we can take to the gaming hells if we get desperate.”
Priscilla managed a smile. The event with Mr Mullworth had left her shaken. “I’m not worried, and so you shouldn’t be.”
He nodded. “Together we will find a way to muddle through.”
“We’ll do better than that. You’ll spend your days painting, your nights in bed pleasing me. I shall spend my days organising your diary, entertaining patrons and raising our children. Every night I shall show you how much I love you.”
She waited for the flash of fear in his eyes at the mere mention of children and love. But it never came.
“It sounds perfect,” he said offering a wide grin. “But you omitted to mention one vital part.”
“Oh, and what is that?”
He opened his mouth, but no words followed. His watery eyes glistened in the candlelight.
Doubt surfaced and her bottom lip trembled. “We promised to be honest, remember. If I’ve been presumptuous or made an error—”
“No. As always your words speak of nothing but the truth. But there is something else I intend to do as well as painting and rousing your exquisite cries upon release.”
The muscles in her core pulsed whenever he mentioned anything amorous.
He cupped her face between his large hands and kissed her softly on the lips. “I intend to love you my whole life.”
“Love me?” The world seemed to tilt on its axis and she fought to keep her balance. “But are you not a man incapable of deep affection?”
The corner of his mouth curled up. “Only where other people are concerned. But I love you, Priscilla, with every fibre of my being.”
A well of suppressed emotion burst. A tear trickled down her cheek. She couldn’t help it. Indeed, she was in danger of becoming a blubbering wreck.
“Don’t cry.” He brushed the tear away with the pad of his thumb. “Are you not happy to hear my declaration?”
“My lack of confidence begs that I challenge you, but you would not have spoken the words unless you meant them.”
“I would never lie to you, and I am not a man who says things just to please other people.” He brushed his mouth against hers, the kiss sweet, tender. “Damn. I must be in love with you as the thought of holding you close whilst still fully clothed seems appealing.”
“What, you don’t want to bed me?”
“Of course I want to bed you. Trust me. I could rouse the required response within seconds. But holding you in my arms is fulfilling. Just being near you soothes my soul.”
She did cry then, a fast-flowing river that carried away all her fears and doubts.
Matthew held her to his chest, stroked her back and whispered endearments.
Sucking in a breath, she raised her head to look at him. “If the dowager Lady Morford we here I think I’d kiss her.”
“Indeed. When I agreed to marry you, I thought I had settled my debt to Tristan.” The warm glow of candlelight danced over his handsome features. “Now it is evident I owe him a far greater debt, one that can never be repaid.”
A feeling of contentment filled her breast. “Dance with me.”
“Dance? But there’s no music.”
“I can hear love’s melody.”